rustle | exo: unforced errors (3/4)

( deuce )

The match with Hanyoung ends in a little under an hour, with Kyungsoo powering through their service games with a flat serve down the middle, or a volley straight to the opponent's feet. Baekhyun nails the last point with a backhand to the back of the court, landing just before the doubles line. They exchange a high-five when they approach the net, Baekhyun's fingers fitting between his own just before he lets go (and pulls Kyungsoo's hand down with his, in accord).

"We could've taken the match 6-4 6-3, you know," Baekhyun whispers, then quickly turns to the opponents with a smile even before Kyungsoo can ask why.

In the bus, Kyungsoo sits near the back of the bus, just passes by Chanyeol as Chanyeol looks up at him with a big smile. He planks his tennis bag just beside him and throws his head back, prepared to slip on his earplugs when Baekhyun takes his bag and stuffs it in the overhead compartment.

"You're not gonna talk?"

Kyungsoo shakes his head and prepares to plug on the headphones, thumb hovering the wheel of his iPod.

"You brushed Chanyeol off just a while ago; do you think he'll let you off the hook when he finally corners you?"

Kyungsoo exhales loudly and pulls off his earphones, coiling the wire before turning to Baekhyun. Baekhyun's still sweaty, bangs sticking to his forehead despite having freshened up a little earlier, but the adrenaline of winning a match is no longer there — there are dark circles under his eyes, more prominent towards the center. There's a short strand of white hair sticking up from his scalp.

Kyungsoo reaches up, slowly running his fingers through Baekhyun's hair, then tugs at the white strand lightly. A small scowl escapes Baekhyun's lips and Kyungsoo sinks back in his seat, chuckling.

"The guy you met back there, that was my—" Past is an incredibly accurate term to use for Jihoon. He'd met Jihoon on court during the qualifiers to make it to the team roster, spent the next few months being mentored by Jihoon. The months leading to the tournaments had seen late nights with Jihoon, hitting balls and polishing shots until Kyungsoo's legs gave away. Some nights, they'd spent in Jihoon's house, with Jihoon teaching him advanced math as he slid a hand between Kyungsoo's thighs, curled the other hand at the base of Kyungsoo's nape. Some nights, they spent in the locker room, rubbing up against each other, clothed, still sticky from practice. Sticky from arousal and the heat of sex and the thrill of getting caught.

(And then some, they'd spent in the showers, Kyungsoo with his face buried in Jihoon's chest, Jihoon with a hand firm on the small of Kyungsoo's back, his other hand pumping their cocks together, slow and inexorable.)

"— former doubles partner," Baekhyun finishes. He shifts in his seat, lips pursed. His shoulders are hunched, curved in. There's a part of Baekhyun that he doesn't want to show Kyungsoo — Kyungsoo's fine with that. He can spend the next few months learning every curve of Baekhyun's body, every movement he makes, but Baekhyun knows very well that Kyungsoo only means business. "I know," Baekhyun adds after a while.

They sit in silence for the next few minutes, with Baekhyun drumming his fingers on his thigh and Kyungsoo studying the cracks of his skin, white patches that have dried up. I love your hands, he remembers Jihoon saying, and he shuts his eyes tight, only opening them when Baekhyun speaks up to ask, "Did he ever—?"

"Ever what?"

Baekhyun shifts in his seat, one leg propped under all his weight. "Proposition you. Try to… take advantage of you or—" He erupts into a peal of laughter, awkward, rough around the edges, choking towards the end. "I'm sorry for asking, it probably makes you uncomfortable— You don't really have to answer that."

"We were more than just friends," Kyungsoo answers after a while. He turns to Baekhyun with a soft smile, walls crashing down as the upward tug falters, as a wave of exhaustion envelops him. "Or at least he was, to me. Seemed like I was just a toy for him."

"I know how it feels," Baekhyun mumbles. He stands for a moment, shifting in his seat, sitting on both feet now. "That's why I never took doubles—"

Kyungsoo leans back, lips parting slightly in a tiny 'o'. Baekhyun's cheeks burn a bright shade of red, and the color is creeping down his neck, up to his ears. "I'm sorry it had to happen to you," Kyungsoo offers, and he reaches out, hand stopping just a few inches shy of Baekhyun's neck. Baekhyun's head snaps up, eyes going wide, and Kyungsoo takes it as a green light, curling his hands at the back of Baekhyun's neck, fingers slowly unfurling as his eyes travel from Baekhyun's eyes, down to the tip of his nose, then the mole near the upper right lip.

Baekhyun tilts his head back, humming, purring like a fucking cat, an easy smile on his lips. "I'm sorry, too," he says, the furrow on his eyebrows easing, skin flushing against Kyungsoo's — the column of his neck exposed, vulnerable.

Kyungsoo has just come out from the showers when Baekhyun walks up to him, one hand holding up the towel wrapped around his waist and a request in the other — "Let's… hagwon?"

"Couldn't you have waited until I got dressed or—"

Baekhyun's gaze has long left Kyungsoo's own, travelling down his nose, the dip just underneath, his chin, then further south to his collarbones. "I couldn't—" Baekhyun's breath hitches, and he moves closer, two steps forward, until Baekhyun's face is too close for comfort that Kyungsoo can smell the stench of sweat and heat in Baekhyun's hair. "I couldn't wait," Baekhyun finishes, one hand rested on Kyungsoo's shoulder, thumb rubbing along the length of his collarbone.

And then Baekhyun takes a step back, like it's suddenly caught up to him — Chanyeol just beyond the door, Jongdae singing in the showers, the water pooled at Kyungsoo's feet. The team and school and the matches they have to play alongside each other. Kyungsoo takes a deep breath, suddenly feeling bare from the loss of warmth, but then Baekhyun has done both of them a favor — you can't play on the same side of the court with a person whose body you'd let your eyes linger on for a second too long, can't think of rubbing against a teammate you're supposed to place your full trust in as you move across from one side of the court to the other, hope that he'd read your movements and hope to God that the gaping holes in your play will be covered. This isn't what they've trained for. This isn't what they're expected to do.

"Hagwon later," Kyungsoo replies. His lips are unbearably dry; Baekhyun's, pink and soft. He thinks of Baekhyun calling out shots, To your right, no, your left! I'll take the one down the center. Don't choke, Kyungsoo. Don't— He keeps his mind on that one thing. "After you shower. We'll study idioms."

"Idiots?" Jongdae chimes as he steps out of the showers.

Baekhyun pulls away with an easy smile. His eyes are still on Kyungsoo. "Yeah, idiots."

The walk to the bus station is silent. There's nothing save for Baekhyun's steady humming, faint enough to be considered a whistle of the wind but loud enough for Kyungsoo to hear. He stays a few good spaces away from Baekhyun even as they engage in a conversation about the previous match. Great backhand back there; that saved my ass. Can you try to toss the ball a little more to the left? It'll give you the extra kick you need for the serve. He's pulled this off far too many times already; by this time, he isn't sure if he's just picking on Baekhyun's play or if he's running away from something, from his words, from himself.

"Our best match so far," Baekhyun comments. "I really enjoyed that one, y'know, even if—"

"Even if?"

Baekhyun stops in his tracks, smack in the middle of an intersection. Kyungsoo looks around for cars or an audience or for any clues, but Baekhyun keeps them hidden in the tight press of his lips. "Nothing," Baekhyun mumbles, then gets back on track, eyes fixed ahead of him, footsteps unhurried.

Kyungsoo catches up.

The most productive study session they've had was a few weeks back, in a coffee shop just a few blocks away from the school. They'd stayed there until nine, and Baekhyun had to excuse himself because he had to make sure his grandmother was tucked in bed by 10. "You spend half the studying time keeping halmeoni awake when we're at my place," Baekhyun complains, the slightest hint of teasing in the undertone of his voice.

Today, they're headed to Kyungsoo's house, and Baekhyun's sitting on his hands and swinging his legs forward in the bus. "Stop moving," Kyungsoo mumbles, and Baekhyun only looks at him and sneers in response.

"What's your mom like?" Baekhyun asks after a while. Kyungsoo glances at his watch — around ten more minutes until they reach the bus stop, then a five minute walk to his house. Fifteen minutes until Baekhyun calms down and slips into his best behavior; Kyungsoo's mother will be enthralled.

"She's nice and pretty," Kyungsoo replies. He chuckles when Baekhyun snorts at him. "We're near. Just wait."

Waiting isn't one of Baekhyun's finer points. He rushes points half the time, catches the ball on the rise whenever he can. More power, Baekhyun would always reason out, and Kyungsoo would tap his calves lightly, countering, more stress on these muscles, too. Then Baekhyun would just roll his eyes, attempt to slow down for the next few games only to bounce back with the same amount of enthusiasm and eagerness to quickly finish a match.

Baekhyun's head lolls on Kyungsoo's shoulder. Kyungsoo tries hard not to laugh, but his shoulders shake lightly, involuntarily.

Baekhyun is quiet from when they alight the bus up until they reach the doorstep of Kyungsoo's house. Three soft knocks, then hurried footsteps. "Oh, I thought it was Chanyeollie—" his mother says at first, and Baekhyun just laughs, shy, maybe even nervous, and he bows to Kyungsoo mother as he greets her.

"This is Baekhyun, my—" Kyungsoo looks to his side, meeting Baekhyun's gaze. He gulps hard. "Doubles partner."

"You're playing doubles again, son? I thought—"

Kyungsoo laughs a little. "Umma, it's getting cold here outside."

The struggle with trying to keep his mother from spilling Kyungsoo's childhood exploits is great, and Baekhyun laughs at every single story, the sound measured and held back even as his mother tells Baekhyun about Kyungsoo falling off a bike and crying for a good ten minutes about it. "You never struck me as the crying type," Baekhyun tells him as they wash the dishes — Baekhyun had insisted that they clean up since Kyungsoo's mother had prepared a really delicious meal for them, and his mother just giggled in response.

"That was only one time," Kyungsoo grumbles.

"Oh yeah? But what about the other time, when you took a pomelo to your left foot and wailed about it—"

"Ugh, just— Stop!"

Baekhyun presses his hand against the head of the faucet, spraying water on Kyungsoo's face, and takes a handful of bubbles, throwing it at Baekhyun in thoughtless retaliation. "Why you—" And then there it is — the sharp rise of Baekhyun's shoulders, his voice peaking, Baekhyun cupping water in his hands and throwing the water bombs at Kyungsoo, hapless. The floor is a sad mess of water and soap and Kyungsoo slips, and he grabs onto the counter for support, and Baekhyun snakes a wet arm around his wait, his free hand pulling his right arm up.

Baekhyun's hands are cold; his smile, warm.

"Uh, thanks," Kyungsoo says when he finally feels his legs again, straightening up in an attempt to regain balance. He only ends up slipping yet again, and Baekhyun's reflexes are still as good as ever — a hand curled on the base of the neck this time, the other flat on the small of Kyungsoo's back.

Baekhyun rubs his thumb along the back of Kyungsoo's ear. Kyungsoo shivers.

"You're welcome."

In the middle of preparations for the match against Seoul Institute, Jongin expresses interest in getting back into doubles, the old swing of things. Yunho furrows his eyebrows at the onset of the news, but Jongin somehow manages to convince him to take some time out from making Chanyeol and Jongdae practice their services more.

"I'm actually really having fun in singles," Jongin says, each syllable drawn out as he meets Yunho in the eye. "But I think… I'm better off in doubles."

"If this is his way of telling that Kyungsoo and I suck, I'm asking for permission to kick him in the balls," Baekhyun says, raising a hand. Jongdae snorts beside him, and Chanyeol smiles but shoots him a look that more or less says you can't just shut your mouth, can you? Kyungsoo clasps a hand on Baekhyun's shoulder more to hold him back than a display of support, but Baekhyun goes on about leaving behind their dreams of playing singles just so they could fill in for Sehun, that brat, making sacrifices. "Fuck, Kyungsoo, you're supposed to be supporting me here, not elbowing me—"

"That's enough," Kyungsoo mumbles, pulling Baekhyun to his side by the wrist. Baekhyun wraps his arms around Kyungsoo's waist like it's the most natural thing in the world, and Kyungsoo flinches, eyes twitching as Baekhyun rests his chin on Kyungsoo's shoulder.

Baekhyun has been extra touchy these days — a hand on the small of the back, arms around the waist, chin tucked on Kyungsoo's shoulder as Yunho gives them pointers on improving their play. He'd tried shrugging off Baekhyun's touches the first few times, but it had become increasingly difficult with Baekhyun hovering all the fucking time. Even during study sessions, Baekhyun would have an arm around his shoulder, a hand on his knee, but only just — he'd let his touch linger, but never would he dip his fingers between Kyungsoo's thighs or in the waistband of Kyungsoo's tennis shorts. It was a choice between playing the game and taking up a different sport altogether, and he'd gotten used to it already. Tennis was safe. Baekhyun, too, brought no sort of harm at all.

Zitao walks closer to the middle, stopping just in front of Yunho. "I was actually going to ask if you could put me back in singles, coach," he says, voice barely above a whisper as he worries his bottom lip. Yunho gives him a long look then shakes his head, pulling both Zitao and Jongin close for a hug and to ruffle their hair.

"Is this the part where we start crying?" Jongdae whispers in Kyungsoo's ear. Baekhyun snorts faster than Kyungsoo can react.

From the corner of Kyungsoo's eye, he can see Chanyeol staring. He doesn't turn to his side, nor does he meet Chanyeol in the eye. He keeps his shoulders drawn back, dragged down by the weight of Baekhyun's body and his raucous laughter and his bright smile.

"They look like twins on court."

Kyungsoo nods, snatching some fries from the container Chanyeol is holding while he's still completely taken by the game unfolding in front of him. Taemin moves exceptionally well on court with a doubles partner despite having no doubles experience at all, and coming from an ankle injury, even. "Trust the young ones to be able to push themselves harder," he comments after a while, then steals the entire container, frowning down at the emptiness with Chanyeol's laughter as the accompanying track.

"Think about the hungry kids, Chanyeol. Think about me—"

"I think," Chanyeol begins, the corner of his lips quirking up. "Someone's been thinking of you a lot. More than you think."

"There are too many think's in that sentence. I think it's really confusing."

"You think so?"

Kyungsoo chuckles. "I know so."

Chanyeol draws his knees close to his chest, resting his chin on his clasped hands. "I don't know what happened between the two of you, but it has made your dynamics infinitely better so I'm all for this change," he says after a while, eyes still fixed on Taemin and Jongin's match against the freshmen. "But if there's anything you wish to tell me, anything at all, you know that—"

"I saw Jihoon on the day of our match against Hanyoung," Kyungsoo replies. "We saw Jihoon, Baekhyun and I. And he drove Jihoon away."

Chanyeol furrows his eyebrows. "How? I mean, Jihoon-hyung's much taller than Baekhyun—"

Kyungsoo laughs a little. "Oh, you know how Baekhyun is—"

The truth is, he doesn't. Baekhyun is a great tennis player, both in singles and in doubles. Baekhyun is driven, motivated, hates physics as much as he hates it when Jongdae calls him out on his half-assed serving. Baekhyun, despite his protests at sitting down to power through pages upon pages of lectures, excels in academics. Baekhyun touches like no one and nothing outside of that exact moment matters — Baekhyun's hand on his wrist, Baekhyun pulling him to his side, Baekhyun looking up at Jihoon to tell him to back off, he's my doubles partner, and you have no right to do this to him. Let him go, Jihoon. Let him go. There's still a bit of Baekhyun that he hasn't seen, hidden beneath all the laughter and sharp words. Say there are three balls — one is Chanyeol, the other is Jongdae, and the last one is Kyungsoo — and Baekhyun has to pick, Baekhyun won't allude to his choice. It will all be in his head. Kyungsoo won't even be able to tell if he even stands a chance.

Baekhyun is also caring, selfless, putting his grandmother's needs before his glaring need to study and improve his grades in English. Baekhyun rarely ever brings people to his house — "He thinks it's too much work, bringing his friends over," Kyungsoo remembers Baekhyun's grandmother mentioning one time. "But you're his doubles partner, and you teach him for free, so I guess he's willing to go the extra mile for you."

"— weird. He's weird," Kyungsoo finally says.

"Fearless," Chanyeol adds. "And a bit crazy."

Kyungsoo laughs — snickers, more like it — and slaps Chanyeol on the arm hard enough to make Chanyeol fall to his side. Chanyeol doesn't fight back, but he does yelp for effect, eyebrows furrowed in his best imitation of being in pain. This is how Jongdae looks when I hit him in the ass with my racket. This is how you look when I catch you off-guard. "Ridiculous," Kyungsoo adds, and leans against Chanyeol as he evens out his breathing, beads of tears at the corners of his lips.

"You like him," Chanyeol says, like it's a universal truth.

"Enough for me to not complain about playing matches with him, yes."

"But still—" Chanyeol rests a hand on Kyungsoo's hair and ruffles it. "You like him."

Kyungsoo shrugs, doesn't give an answer outright, and just keeps his eyes trained on the bodies moving in front of him — Taemin and Jongin, pairing up against two freshmen who'd make formidable foes, Baekhyun on the other side of the court, smiling at him with his eyes like greeting him, Good morning, partner. Hagwon later?

Enough for him not to decline any of Baekhyun's requests for more English hagwon sessions, yes. He likes Baekhyun enough.

Sehun sits in the bleachers during the match against Seoul Institute. Jongin's more jittery than the usual when he sets foot on the court, throwing occasional glances over his shoulder — past Taemin and straight at Sehun as if asking, is this good enough? Sehun laughs to himself, mostly, throughout the match, leans over to where Kyungsoo is to whisper, "Look at him, he's so fucking nervous," balling his left fist everytime Jongin serves a nice ace or seals the rally with a sharp, clean shot to the corners.

"No double faults the entire game. I'm impressed," Sehun says as he watches Jongin and Taemin approach the net, shaking hands with their opponents and dropping the standard praise on each other's game.

"Threatened, you mean," Kyungsoo comments.

"Hmm?"

Sehun isn't the hardest person to read — he gives himself away rather easily in the pretense of serious tennis. The slight rise of Sehun's eyebrows means he's interested to hear what Kyungsoo has to say; the peculiar upward curve means he has an inkling of what it is, but he isn't quite sure yet. The light squinting of the eye is the challenge, setting the ball for the right serve; Kyungsoo's prepared to return the ball right on the line, at Sehun's blind side.

Kyungsoo waits for the sharp intake of breath and the loud exhale. With a nod, he answers, "If it makes you feel better, you're still his first choice when it comes to doubles partners."

Sehun's chest heaves, shoulders falling, and an easy smile surfaces on his lips. Sehun's eyes flit from Kyungsoo's own to something over his shoulder — Jongin and Taemin approaching Whimoon's box. "Excuse me," he whispers, grabbing Kyungsoo's shoulder as he gets up from his seat and meets Jongin as soon as they arrive.

"Focus, partner," comes Baekhyun's voice to his left.

He chuckles, doesn't even bother to look to his side before pressing his palm flat on Baekhyun's face. "You focus."

They get up simultaneously, bounce on their soles to warm themselves up. Baekhyun hits the back of his shoes with his racket at the same time that Kyungsoo does. If Baekhyun ever notices, he doesn't call it out; instead, he walks ahead, straight to the courts, and Kyungsoo trails him, spine straight, chin up.

He meets Baekhyun's gaze before he takes his position near the net. He smiles.

Seoul Institute has got to have one of the cleanest, most fast-paced games Kyungsoo has seen in years. Junsu and Junho, the twins they're facing, are synchronized in a way they can only dream of. The harmony in their movement isn't something you get with weeks of training alongside each other; it's a lifelong training that results to this never of synchronicity. "This is unfair; they're twins! We're not even joined at the hip!" Baekhyun exclaims three games into the set, and Kyungsoo simply waves off his worries, whispering, "Well then, we'll just have to try harder and look for an opening."

6-6 now in the last set, 26-27, and they still haven't found the opening.

The good thing about the match is that neither teams have dropped a game in this set just yet; the bad thing is that the twins have each other's movements memorized down to the last detail that despite the strictly measured, calculated nature of their playing style, they can still bounce back from a surprise trick shot Baekhyun aims right on the line of the doubles court, or an unexpected drop shot from Kyungsoo. "I'm scared," Baekhyun confesses just before Kyungsoo heads to his side of their court. "Kyungsoo, I can feel my legs, they're gonna give away any moment now."

Kyungsoo takes a deep breath. "After serving, move to the front at once. Focus on what you can reach and don't move around that much. I'll take the baseline. I'll give you five minutes."

"But Kyungsoo, you don't—" Baekhyun's eyebrows are furrowed. "How can you be sure—"

"I said—" Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow at Baekhyun, and Baekhyun leans back. "I'll give you five minutes. We switch back to our standard formation after that."

"But Kyungsoo—"

He rests a hand on Baekhyun's shoulder and squeezes it lightly. "Hey. Trust me."

Baekhyun's eyes widen. Seven out of ten times, this means there's an incoming ball that he won't be able to return, or Chanyeol's just behind Kyungsoo, waiting to kick them out of the courts for overtraining. The last three, Kyungsoo can't tell; he's long given up on deciphering all of Baekhyun's facial expressions and reading between the lines. When there's anything that Baekhyun wants, all he has to do is ask.

"I can't promise to recover in five minutes."

Kyungsoo laughs a little. "Try to score as many drop shots as you can, then. I'll take care of the rest."

Kyungsoo walks back to the service area, bouncing the ball with his right hand. The last time he played at the baseline was in singles; for doubles, with Jihoon. Jihoon had pulled the same stint on him before, for their match against Hanyoung two years back. They were in doubles one, and Chanyeol and Jongdae had lost then, but only by a very slim margin. Kyungsoo's knees ached and his calves were sore. His shorts stuck to his thighs from all the sweat he'd shed throughout the match. I'll take all the shots in front; just get your game back in five minutes. I need you, Kyungsoo, Jihoon had said, and Kyungsoo crouched low, knees bent, body facing forward as he gripped his racket tight in his right hand.

"Ten minutes!" Kyungsoo calls out. Baekhyun nods, firm and resolute, and gets down on one knee.

Kyungsoo takes a deep breath and tosses the ball in the air, slightly to the left. He swings his arm from left to right, putting in all the power he has to add an extra kick to the serve. Junho — or is it Junsu? With the blur of sweat in his eyes, Kyungsoo can't tell anymore — returns it, but the ball catches on the net, tips over just lightly and heads straight to the ground. Baekhyun goes for the save and returns with a backhand, just a light flick of the wrist. Junsu catches it, aims a volley at Kyungsoo's feet, and Kyungsoo returns with a feeble lob.

Baekhyun follows the ball with his eyes. He scrunches his nose. "Ah!" Kyungsoo yells, and he catches the slightest change in Baekhyun's features before Baekhyun looks straight ahead again, bent low to cover all shots aimed near the net.

Junho smashes the ball just a few inches shy of Baekhyun's area of responsibility. Kyungsoo slides to the right, quick to recover, and aims a backhand cross-court, deep enough that it bounces off the court as soon as it hits the doubles line. Kyungsoo balls his right fist. Baekhyun doesn't look over his shoulder. 27-27.

Kyungsoo serves again, a flat serve this time, and bounces on the balls of his feet as soon as he hits the ball. Junho returns with an easy forehand that Baekhyun intercepts, hitting back with a double-handed backhand. Junsu counters with another volley, and this time Kyungsoo's prepared enough to take a few sidesteps so he can hit the ball better, at an easier angle. He tries a backhand down the middle — Junho counters with a forehand. He attempts a forehand to the back this time, and Junho moves back as fast as he can, hitting a lob. "Un!" Baekhyun says, and Kyungsoo keeps his eyes fixed on the twins at Baekhyun prepares to hit a smash, right arm pulled back at a nice angle that Kyungsoo's sure Baekhyun's shot will be unreturnable even if Junsu tries hard to counter with a backhand.

The tension in Baekhyun's arm eases and he taps the ball forward, hitting a drop shot. The ball rolls down the net on the opposite side nicely, and Kyungsoo can see Junsu seething in frustration. 28-27.

A change of service for the next point. Kyungsoo approaches the net, giving Baekhyun a pat on the back. "Let's play," he whispers in Baekhyun's ear, and he retreats back to the baseline. He can still feel Baekhyun's gaze at the back of his head and, when he turns on his heel, Baekhyun's eyes are still fixed on him, a small smile on his lips. The furrow of Baekhyun's eyebrows ask, are you sure you want to do this?; the light in his eyes, do you trust me? Kyungsoo responds with a firm nod and a thumbs up before twirling his racket in his hand, body swaying from side to side.

"Quiet, please," the umpire says. To Junho, he says, "Please, carry on with the serve. Whimoon, you'll receive a violation of you take too long to regroup."

Kyungsoo snorts but flashes a smile in the umpire's direction. There won't be any need for that anymore.

Junho tosses the ball straight up, bends his knees really low as he waits for the ball to fall right into place. Junho stretches his right arm out and swings it forward, creating topspin on the ball and sending it right above the middle of the net where the net is the lowest. Baekhyun moves to his side, and Kyungsoo moves to the left to strike a forehand, slightly to the right to counter with a backhand, left and right and left again until he can see Baekhyun tapping his foot. Any minute now.

Junsu returns with a forehand a few spaces shy of the T of the court. "Un!" Baekhyun yells, then drags the tip of his right foot to the left, torso twisted and knees bend as he prepares to take the shot with a backhand. Baekhyun approaches the incoming ball, catching it even before the rise, and strikes it with just enough power — any harder and he'd risk aiming it well outside of the court. The ball lands at the back, just as Junho approaches the net, both of Seoul Institute now close to the center of the entire court, and Baekhyun lets out a strangled cry as he pumps his fist in the air, then turns around to scoop Kyungsoo in his arm and twirl him around.

"People are watching—" Kyungsoo mumbles, but Baekhyun just shakes his head. So Kyungsoo keeps his eyes closed and his ears wide open, the sound of cheering drowning out the loud thumping — both in his chest and Baekhyun's — Baekhyun whispering in his ear, "We did it, we did it, we finally did it!"

Zitao nearly grabs the win for his match, if not for a rain delay — "Rain? In summer?" — that completely ruins Zitao's momentum. 6-4 7-6(12) isn't exactly the worst result, but Zitao spends the next few minutes succeeding the end of his match curled up in his seat, legs drawn close to his chest as he mumbles, "I hate the rain."

"The rain is evil. It's so mean!" Jongdae quips as he runs a hand up and down Zitao's back. Zitao looks over his shoulder to shoot Jongdae a sharp look, but Jongdae only beams at him, nuzzles Zitao's hair with his nose as Zitao half scowls, half grumbles.

"Gonna clean up your mess!" Chanyeol calls out to Zitao, and Zitao only wails even more.

Sehun accosts Kyungsoo once he returns from the debriefing with Yunho. He slides between him and Baekhyun, and Baekhyun slaps Sehun on the thigh just as Sehun says, "So, doubles."

"That's what we played earlier," Kyungsoo replies. He uncaps his water bottle and gulps down a fourth of the liquid. "How was it, by the way?"

Sehun slips into one of his states where he props a balled fist under his chin, furrows his eyebrows, and then lets a smile tug up the corners of his lips. "You were both having fun, save for the last set," Sehun comments. "Baekhyun-hyung was in pain—"

"It was a long tie-breaker."

"—because he's not practicing enough, I'm assuming." Sehun turns to his right, back facing Baekhyun as Baekhyun pounds his fists on Sehun's arm. "But you… you're at the top of your game, hyung."

Kyungsoo chuckles. "It was a difficult match, yeah, but it's not any different from my performance in the past few games."

"The swing, the footwork, your form— Hyung, I know it when I see it, and you're moving differently these days, like you're dancing on court and really, really enjoying the sport."

"I love tennis, you know that."

"I know you like tennis, yeah." Sehun purses his lips. "But love? I don't know, you always looked as if you were trying to one-up someone or something, that's why you played. But now…"

"Now?"

Sehun shakes his head like Kyungsoo will never get it even if he dissects each and every word of his statement. "I don't know how exactly to describe it, but you're playing better than before."

Kyungsoo replays the key points of the past few games — lunging to the net for a well-timed drop shot, rushing to the corners to aim a forehand down the line because he knows, just from looking at Baekhyun, that Baekhyun won't be able to hit a clean backhand from where he is, forcibly taking matters into his own hands by putting his foot forward in the middle of a rally and hitting a volley. Baekhyun flashing a v-sign at him and saying, well, I really needed that.

"Thanks, I guess?" Kyungsoo says. "At least all the hard work's paying off."

Sehun bumps his hips into Kyungsoo's side as he scoots closer, farther away from Baekhyun who's now cheering Chanyeol on, waving his racket and Zitao's in the air. "I won't be able to play again soon, not in the next few months," Sehun tells him, and he can't tell if he's relieved, sad, guilty at the mere thought of Sehun's recovery taking too long. At best, he's just being optimistic. At least he and Baekhyun are filling Sehun and Jongin's doubles shoes like they're experts in the field. At worst, he's confused.

"Don't rush it," Kyungsoo replies, instead, and snakes an arm around Sehun to pull him close. He means to say, there's no need to rush. I'm enjoying this, so don't let it end — not yet. "Recovery takes time."

The bad weather strikes again just in time for Chanyeol's match to end, an easy 6-3 6-4 victory over Seoul Institute's Lee Howon. Chanyeol's already soaked yet still chatting up Howon at the net, gesticulating something that can either mean I like that backhand of yours; really put a lot of strain on my left leg or simply I like your legs. Jongdae's tapping his foot lightly, the closest he can come to being impatient despite the smile on his lips. Sehun, Jongin, and Taemin are in a corner, coaxing Zitao out of his slump, and Baekhyun's got a chin propped on Kyungsoo's shoulder, vibrations tickling Kyungsoo's skin as Baekhyun hums some unknown sing in his ear.

"Oh hey, can I ask a favor?" Baekhyun asks. Kyungsoo makes a small, non-committal sound, and he catches the lightest laughter slipping from Baekhyun's lips. "Well, you see, we have an exam of projectile motion and I think I'll need some help with the practice problem sets…"

"So you're saying…?"

"What I'm saying is—" Baekhyun stands straight, hands on Kyungsoo's shoulders as he grins. "You're gonna teach me physics tonight."

"Sounds kinky, hyung!" Taemin calls out from a few feet away, but quickly clasps his hand over his mouth when Kyungsoo looks at him, eyebrow raised.

With Baekhyun, there are no requests, only orders and mandates disguised in a thick cloak of a bright grin. Baekhyun is abrasive — a slice serve cutting through the air, landing hard and quick on the line, a sturdy backhand counter to a heavy smash. It's his way or the highway, and the road Baekhyun treads is anything but safe; it's a maze with secret pathways. In a corner there's a door that says this way out, but Kyungsoo knows all too well that it's supposed to read this way if you want in, if you want to dig a deeper grave for yourself.

"What gives?" Kyungsoo asks once they start walking to the bus. Baekhyun hasn't stopped humming the same song under his breath; Kyungsoo hasn't stopped questioning his decisions in life.

"I'll buy ice cream on the way."

"To my house, you mean."

Baekhyun turns to him, nose scrunches, the corners of his lips tugged down. "But—"

"Thanks for the ice cream, partner," Kyungsoo replies, a smug smile on his lips. He ruffles Baekhyun's hair and lets his hand fall to his side when Baekhyun starts to lean into the touch and, from the corner of his eye, he can see Chanyeol's stare lingering far longer than it should.

Physics hagwon at home means drawing trajectory parallelisms from ball movement and a tennis match, means Kyungsoo falling asleep on his desk at half past three in the morning while Baekhyun powers through a problem set on projectile motion. He stirs at around four in the morning, a stinging pain in his right cheek that he realizes soon enough is because of an open pen and some paper clips.

He blinks a few times, waiting for his vision to recover. A few more seconds, then the image of a sleeping Baekhyun comes into focus — hair sticking to his cheek, his forehead. Pimples painting Baekhyun's skin a bright shade of red. The shiny tip of his nose, Baekhyun's fingers almost falling off of Kyungsoo's knee. Baekhyun's lips slightly parted, lower lip protruding, a small scar at the middle. Drool on his desk and at the corner of Baekhyun's lips.

He takes a deep breath.

The last time he's been this close to Baekhyun was a week or so ago, fresh from the showers with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Baekhyun asked about hagwon, and Kyungsoo asked about the breach of personal space. Baekhyun ran his thumb across Kyungsoo's collarbones, skin hot and sticky from a match, and Kyungsoo stood there just waiting — for time to pass, for Chanyeol to arrive, for something to happen. Possibilities were endless. Now, with Baekhyun just a breath, a decision away, there's no room for escape, nothing holding him back from leaning in to finish kissing Baekhyun but the strands of doubt tying his wrists to the posts of his desk.

Baekhyun stirs a little, chews on air. His lips end up in a cute, peculiar curve. Kyungsoo leans back, then gets up. Class starts in a few hours; there's no time for dilly-dallying.

He wakes Baekhyun up around thirty minutes after, once he's done freshening up and he's slipped into his school uniform. "You should take a shower. You can borrow my clothes," he tells Baekhyun, gesturing at the school polo and pants folded on his bed.

"How are the problem sets?" Baekhyun asks as he rubs his eyes free of sleep.

Baekhyun keeps worrying his bottom lip. Kyungsoo makes a mental note to shuffle that thought at the very back of his mind — but maybe later. "All correct. Now get your ass moving. We can't be late."

Baekhyun has the energy of a five-year-old over breakfast, engaging Kyungsoo's mother in a conversation about great centerpieces for table set ups and great coffee beans for grinding and eventual brewing, while his mother humors Baekhyun with some more of Kyungsoo's childhood stories. "I actually wanted a girl as a second child but—" His mother looks at him, chuckles, then ducks behind her tea cup.

"I guess you'll have to settle with Kyungsoo here getting the girls, hmm?"

Kyungsoo buries his face in his hands. "I should've never introduced you to each other."

Baekhyun drags him to the very back of the bus once they hop on, and claims ownership over the window seat. He means to go sight-seeing, saying, "I don't come here often, y'know," but ends up sleeping like a log on Kyungsoo's shoulder, one arm circling Kyungsoo's own. Kyungsoo keeps his eyes fixed on the rows of seats in front of him, the back of the heads of the people occupying the seats, anything but the invitation written on Baekhyun's lips, Baekhyun breathing hot air on his skin.

He earns a few stares when he checks on Baekhyun, his mouth dangerously close to Baekhyun's forehead.

To anyone who doesn't know them, they probably look like childhood best friends who have grown with each other, grown out of the awkwardness of being two male bodies pressed flush against each other and into the comfort of the warm contact of two thighs in a crowded bus. To people who know, they'd be laughing at Kyungsoo silly for being helpless and defenseless in the face of a sleeping Byun Baekhyun. Jongdae would probably laugh at him silly, and Sehun would go, ah, so this is what you mean by being doubles partners. That's part of the deal, he guesses — spending so much time with each other that you start mimicking each other's quirks, mannerisms. Growing into one skin, one style, one game.

"Get up, kid," Kyungsoo whispers when the bus comes to a halt. "Come on, get up, we need to get moving—"

Baekhyun's eyes flutter and he makes these unintelligible sounds, lips dangerously pressing on the skin of Kyungsoo's neck. Kyungsoo closes his eyes, recalibrates — he thinks of the sound of tennis balls bouncing off the surface, thinks of each ball hitting the sweet spot of the racket, thinks of a nice backswing, of Baekhyun bending his knees when he prepares to do a kick serve, of Baekhyun ready with a high-five at the end of a well-executed forehand winner.

"We're here?" Baekhyun asks. Kyungsoo can feel Baekhyun smiling against his skin. He nods, and Baekhyun's hand slides down, fingers wrapping around Kyungsoo's tiny fist before he lets go.

The setting of the ball — Baekhyun getting up from his seat. The contact of the strings against the ball — Baekhyun with his hand on the small of Kyungsoo's back. The anticipation of watching the ball speed across the court, past the net — Baekhyun fastening his hands on Kyungsoo's hips as he steadies himself, still disoriented from his sleep.

Kyungsoo misses the serve for a second time. Baekhyun's grinning at the other end of the court. Double fault.

With the match against Dong-ah Institute just around the corner, Yunho cuts practice hours by half. Jongdae's the only one who grumbles in retaliation; even Chanyeol's glad that they'll be getting two hours off from the courts. "We practice the morning of the match, though," Yunho reminds them, and Baekhyun pretends to wail and choke down a sob as Jongin erupts into a peal of laughter beside him.

"I've been sleeping at 3 a.m. everyday," Chanyeol mumbles on their way back to the lockers. "Can I just say, I hate physics. I know I love the sciences, but I really hate physics right now."

"Kyungsoo's good at physics," Baekhyun mentions. He pulls his shirt over his head and shoots his bundled up shirt in his bag, like basketball. Jongdae mutters, and it's a three!

"Kyungsoo's good at everything, but he's already busy with a lot of things, as it is." Chanyeol reaches over to ruffle Kyungsoo's hair, and runs to where Jongdae is and uses Jongdae as a shield even before Kyungsoo can attempt to pull his shorts down. "I'm just saying, we're all seniors and we've been studying our asses off day and night on top of tennis."

Kyungsoo meets Chanyeol in the eye, a smirk flaunted on the corner of his lips. "I'm telling coach."

Jongin returns from his shower, shaking his head as he says, "What are you guys, twelve?"

Baekhyun and Jongdae disappear beneath the mist of the hot shower, and Kyungsoo takes Jongdae's place on the benches, feet propped under his legs. Chanyeol's halfway through removing his own shirt when he lets his hands drop to his sides and slips beside Kyungsoo, one hand on Kyungsoo's knee, thumb rubbing lightly over the bone.

"You're good at physics?"

Kyungsoo shrugs and rubs his eyes. "I'm good at everything; you said so, yourself."

"Yeah, but—" Chanyeol cocks his head in the direction of the shower. There's a brief moment of silence until Jongin and Taemin slip out of the locker room, bags slung over their shoulders as they say their goodbyes. "I thought you were only teaching him English."

Kyungsoo laughs a little. "So when did you start playing the role of the jealous best friend, huh?"

Chanyeol rolls his eyes, and a big smile surfaces on his lips as he shakes his head. This is Chanyeol's default reaction to things he can't deny, or to something he finds plain amusing — today, it can be a mix of the two because Kyungsoo has never put the words jealous and Chanyeol in one sentence. Kyungsoo finds himself cackling, as well.

"Fine, fine, guilty as charged," Chanyeol confesses.

Kyungsoo keeps his eyes on the formless cloud of mist just a few feet from them, and Chanyeol sways from side to side to the tune of a song only he can hear. Kyungsoo drums his fingers on the bench, then looks to his side to shoot glance at Chanyeol. "Did you want help on physics?" he asks after a while, and Chanyeol shakes his head, chuckles without sound, shoulders shaking.

"So, you like him."

Kyungsoo snorts. "No? Whatever gave you the impression—"

Chanyeol places a hand on the crown of Kyungsoo's hair, smiling. "That wasn't a question."

Chanyeol says no more, just looks at him with his big, glimmering eyes being pulled down by the dark circles underneath, with a silly grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "You should learn how to listen, even if that ah-un technique was really good," Chanyeol comments, then retreats his hand and sits upright when Baekhyun and Jongdae emerge from the showers, laughing.

"You two are next," Baekhyun says, and Kyungsoo gets up from his seat, his towel in tow. Chanyeol pinches him in his side as he walks past Jongdae, and Baekhyun curls his fingers at the base of Kyungsoo's nape when they meet in the middle. Kyungsoo's breath hitches, and the Baekhyun's cold fingers reach up, gently massaging his scalp. He tries not to lean into the touch.

And then there's the splash of Jongdae's feet when Jongdae hands Chanyeol's towel over, saying, "Who even showers without a towel?", Baekhyun's hand trembling, a tiny jerk in Kyungsoo's body jolting him back to reality.

"I'll be back," Kyungsoo mumbles, then walks past Baekhyun, silent even as he turns on the shower. He closes his eyes, tilting his head up so he can feel the warm water on his face, so he can wash away the image of Baekhyun's soft features, the feeling of Baekhyun's fingers tracing patterns on his skin, the steady, loud thumping in his chest out of sync with the measured bounce of the ball off the surface of the court.

The evening before the match against Dong-ah, Chanyeol calls for a team meeting by the tteokbokki cart. Chanyeol has done this with Jongdae, Baekhyun, and Kyungsoo far too many times that, by now, the vendor has gotten used to all the tennis terms they use, even expressing interest in having his son study tennis.

"Haraboji! I'll sponsor his high school education if he joins the tennis club," Jongdae says, halfway through his second serving of tteokbokki. Jongin slips a hand over Jongdae's shoulder to steal some food, and Jongdae hits Jongin in the gut with his elbow. "I'll even teach him how to play tennis!"

"I'll feed him," Baekhyun offers, then takes one slice of tteok, poking Kyungsoo's lips with it. Kyungsoo parts his lips after much prodding. "Not like that. Maybe in a nicer manner. Kyungsoo just loves playing hard-to-get."

Kyungsoo snatches the toothpick from Baekhyun and steals a tteok for himself. "Only sometimes," he retorts, beaming at Baekhyun. Baekhyun only shakes his head in response.

They disperse after the quick meeting, with Chanyeol reminding everyone to please get some rest. To the seniors, he says, nah, not you guys.. He sticks a tongue out at Jongdae, but takes Jongdae in his arms when Jongdae attempts to land multiple punches on his arm. Kyungsoo waves at the two before leaving, then turns to a silent Baekhyun beside him, asking, "Same bus, right?"

"Yeah, same old route," Baekhyun replies. The smile on his lips is blinding. Baekhyun looks around for an audience before hooking an arm around Kyungsoo's shoulder, hand squeezing Kyungsoo's arm lightly.

"Well, aren't you home early!" is his mother's greeting when he arrives at the doorstep.

He has his bag over his shoulder and a plastic filled with unnecessary energy drinks in his free hand. Yunho had given each of the regulars a "championship energy pack" of their own, telling them to drink one can before tackling their lessons for the night, but reminding them to turn in before midnight so that they can wake up refreshed. "Work hard, but don't overwork yourselves," Kyungsoo remembers Yunho saying, stare lingering longer than the usual on Sehun. "Big day tomorrow!"

"Coach told us to get lots of rest for tomorrow's match," he replies, bowing at her, then walks past the gates. He removes his rubber shoes and slips into his slippers, and his mother takes the plastic bag from him, giggling as she does so.

"Oh, so that's why Baekhyunnie isn't around."

Kyungsoo laughs a little. "Since when did you two become close?"

"Well…" His mother takes the cans out one by one, then arranges them inside the fridge. "He's easy to get along with, and he's a nice kid. Very respectful, too. I'm glad you have a friend like him."

"Chanyeol's nicer than him, umma."

She chuckles. "I could tell. Chanyeol's an angel. But—"

"But?"

His mother pauses for a while, then turns around to get a soup bowl from the dish rack. She doesn't continue until she's poured soup in the bowl, saying, "He makes you laugh and smile in a way Chanyeollie doesn't."

He stops midway through reaching for the glass of water nearby and looks up at her, straight into her eyes. He's never had to play against his mother before — or anyone from his family, for that matter. His father's much too busy traveling around the world, gaining new investors for his business; his brother has never been into sports, and probably wouldn't ever be. He's busy building a family now; he hasn't even been home in years. "That's—" Weird. Crazy. Possibly fucked up. "I don't know what you mean," he continues. He wraps his fingers around the glass.

"I'm not the best at reading people, Kyungsoo, but he makes you happy. You… come home with him in tow and you study until the whee hours of the morning, but I've never heard you complain about staying up too late. With Chanyeol, you probably would have kicked him out at midnight and made him sleep on the couch."

"Chanyeol would sneak back into my room, anyway," Kyungsoo says, laughing a little. His mother chuckles.

"He would, he would," she says.

They eat in silence, with his mother only occasionally dropping stories on seeing a particular friend of hers for the first time in a long time, or that great bargain she got that ended up with her bringing home two whole boxes of pomelo. Kyungsoo clears the table right after they finish, set on covering all the chapters he has to read tonight by midnight, and his mother interrupts him halfway through taking the last bowl off the table.

"Kyungsoo?"

"Yes, umma?"

"Just know that… whatever makes you happy, I will accept." She fumbles with the hem of her blouse, an indiscernible smile on her lips. "It might take a while but…"

"Umma, please—"

"This is the happiest I have seen you in years, Kyungsoo. I won't let you throw away something like this, someone like Baekhyun, just because it's… weird."

He takes a deep breath and puts the bowl back down to take her in his arms, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He thinks of Baekhyun's hand on his nape, Baekhyun's toothy grin, Baekhyun's annoying voice during tennis practice. Baekhyun's half-lidded eyes and lazy smile, Bakehyun greeting him as if singing, good morning. "Thank you," he says, voice barely above a whisper, and he feels the light upward tug of his mother's cheek, his mother rubbing slow, soothing circles on his back.

He thinks of the championship tomorrow, of balls bouncing on the court, of teamwork and winning the match and leading the team to victory.

"Thank you, umma," he says again, this time louder.

He thinks of Baekhyun.

"This is probably not the best pep talk," Chanyeol begins, then looks over his shoulder before continuing, "but the players of Dong-ah have a reputation for playing dirty."

"Creepy," is the only thing Zitao says. Taemin shrugs in response, and Jongin moves closer, hooking an arm around Chanyeol's shoulder as he eggs Chanyeol to go on. Jongdae watches from a few spaces away, outside the small circle of the youngest among the regulars. Baekhyun excuses himself to go to the bathroom, saying he's gonna pee in his pants, so fucking nervous, and Kyungsoo makes sure to hit him on the back of his head before he runs off.

"Where did you get the news?" Kyungsoo asks.

"Well, I got to talk to Hanyoung's captain a few days back — no, I'm not making friends with the enemy — and he said he saw Dong-ah's most recent match, the one before ours. One of the players hits people — as in the players themselves, not the surface or anything. The singles two player of the school they were up against took a shot to the ankle and the right wrist."

Kyungsoo shudders. "There are people who play tennis rough."

Jongdae scoffs, shaking his head as he rubs circles on Kyungsoo's arm. "You'd be surprised, Soo. You'd be surprised."

Baekhyun returns to Yunho running the team through player profiles and Chanyeol reiterating that everyone has to be extra careful, that they don't have the leisure of playing just for the sake of it. Jongin heads the team chant, and soon the players are called to the courts for the introductions and standard handshakes. "That one," Chanyeol whispers in Kyungsoo's ear, and Kyungsoo's eyes land on a dark-haired guy about the same height as Jongdae, with a build that resembles Jongin's.

"Doesn't look like the type," Kyungsoo replies.

Chanyeol snorts. "Exactly."

Doubles two starts with Taemin and Jongin sharing a hug before the coin toss. "Australian right off the bat?" Baekhyun comments from beside Kyungsoo, and yet he leans forward, clasped hands propped under his chin as he gives a running commentary of the first few games.

Taemin's at the top of his game, Kyungsoo thinks. He's been hitting nothing but nice, clean forehands for the first five games, and his first serve percentage is just a little below 80%. Jongin's moving much faster, too, sliding from one side of the court to another with relative ease as he catches balls left and right, earning points as he aims at the corners, right on the doubles line just before the ball tips out. 4-3 now in their favor, and Taemin and Jongin are hardly breathing heavily.

Beside Kyungsoo, Jongdae gulps hard. "This isn't looking so good."

"Huh?"

"Ah—" Baekhyun leans back, hands dropping to his sides. "Whatever happened to his back injury? Did he have that pulled muscle checked?"

"No idea," Chanyeol comments. "But—"

"The pats on the lower back weren't just for all of Jongin's great shots," Kyungsoo comments. "He hasn't been leaning forward that much when he receives, either. And you know how he plays."

"Knees bent low, chest forward," Baekhyun finishes. "Because Taemin hits balls so dangerously low, they always look as if they'd hit the net."

"Fault!" comes the linesman's call.

The first set stretches to a deciding tie-breaker, with Jongin's first serve percentage going down steadily as the match drags. Taemin works hard to cover the holes in Jongin's play and reach for the shots that Jongin can't, but Taemin is only human — his thighs will burn and his knees will get weak and soon even his will-power will crack. Taemin takes a shot to the foot and brushes it off like a mosquito bite, powering through the succeeding games, and Jongin aims backhand volleys down the line whenever he can.

The result isn't such a pitiful loss — a tie-breaker is always something to be proud of, especially during a championship — but Jongin's smile is still awkward around the edges when he meets the opponents at the net. Taemin's taking it better with a grin that reaches his eyes and the light squeeze of the hand. From where Kyungsoo is, he can see the sharp rise of Yunho's shoulders, the gradual fall, the small smile on Yunho's lips before he welcomes the two back into the box with a warm hug.

"Great game back there," Chanyeol says, going for a high-five. Jongin buries his face in Chanyeol's chest, instead, sobs light and almost inaudible as Chanyeol whispers in his ear, "It's okay. You did great! It was a win, think of it as a win."

"Doubles one!" Yunho calls out. Baekhyun flashes a thumbs up at Yunho and Kyungsoo stands from his seat.

This isn't the first time Kyungsoo has fought for the championship title — not in doubles, and certainly not in singles — but it feels different this time, like he's ten or twelve again and he's still so small for a court for a court so big, fingers stubby and short that he can't even grip his racket properly. The solution has always been to grip the racket closer to throat, but he's not a kid anymore. He isn't playing for the sake of passing time when there isn't school or homework to be done, nor is he practicing opposite Jongdae or Chanyeol on court. Baekhyun's just beyond his shoulder, waiting for the coin toss and waiting for the umpire's signal to start.

"Heads," the chime at the same time. Baekhyun snorts, and one of the players from Dong-ah laughs. It's the same dark-haired that Chanyeol had identified as the player.

"Be careful with that guy," Kyungsoo whispers in Baekhyun's ear even before Baekhyun can return to the baseline. Baekhyun doesn't ask, just keeps his eyebrows furrowed as Kyungsoo scrambles for the right words. "He plays dirty."

"Dong-ah's known for that," Baekhyun replies, voice faint. He pats Kyungsoo's on the head, fingers carding through his hair to ruffle it a little. "We have to play smart and quick; not much setting up."

Kyungsoo smiles at the umpire when he announces that it's a heads and that Whimoon's serving first. To Baekhyun, he says, "If you so much as feel like your legs are going to give you away, let me know."

"Hey, don't worry about it, partner."

Several matches after and Kyungsoo still hasn't quite gotten used to the sound of the word rolling off of Baekhyun's tongue. He clasps a hand on Baekhyun's shoulder, squeezes it lightly, and offers a perfunctory smile before they start warm ups.

Don't worry about it, partner.

One thing that Chanyeol forgot to warn about was Dong-ah's penchant for misleading opponents and making the first set way too easy for their opponents. Kyungsoo's almost surprised that they've managed to win the first set at 6-4, but as soon as the second set records hit 3-3, Dong-ah steps up their game, pulling off all these unimaginable trick shots — adding spin to the ball so that it almost always returns to the one who'd returned in prior to the last swing, serving aces upon aces that are more than fast and accurate for a junior tennis player.

4-4 in the second set now, and Baekhyun's already breathing heavily. "Let's push for 6-4?" Kyungsoo says, voice soft enough to express concern but with enough resolution to get the message across. Baekhyun nods vigorously, heading back to the baseline as Kyungsoo takes the first service.

"Kyungsoo, wait—"

"Hmm?"

Baekhyun grips his racket tight in his right hand. "Don't use it yet."

"Got it," Kyungsoo mumbles, then walks back to the service court.

Don't use it yet means sticking to his standard serves, the safe ones that haven't let him down just yet. He trusts Baekhyun enough to know the best type of play to use in this particular situation — it's not yet time to quickly wrap up the match, or maybe he can go a few more games. Baekhyun's usually good at knowing his limits, at reminding Kyungsoo of his own, and this request, weird as it may seem, is a piece of advice that Kyungsoo probably wouldn't regret taking.

Kyungsoo tosses the ball in the air, straight up, and aims a flat serve down the T. 15-0.

The rallies become much shorter as the match stretches to 5-5, 5-6, and eventually 6-6 in the final set. Dong-ah's players have their knees bent, palms flat on their thighs as they catch their breath. Baekhyun's slowed down considerably, and has put in extra effort in imitating the spin the opponents had used earlier to push the game to 5-5. "They're alternating between a topspin and an underspin," Baekhyun comments just before they switch courts. "Be careful when they start firing one topspin after the other; they're preparing for the moment when your body already gets used to the movement."

Kyungsoo coughs a little and reaches for the towel the ball boy offers him. "Waiting for my muscles to freeze."

"And then they'd fire a completely different shot," Baekhyun adds. The other pair is walking back to their positions. Baekhyun slips in one last statement before he moves forward, approaching the net. "Let's do the thing."

The thing can be anything — the ah-un chanting to know who will be taking which shot as they use their normal singles style when they move across the doubles court, or maybe even the I formation they'd managed to pull off a couple of weeks ago. There's also the Australian formation, but Baekhyun's legs will give away any moment. Kyungsoo goes for — gut feel, running through the catalogue of information on Baekhyun that he has filed at the very back of his mind. Trying to recall how Baekhyun moves and letting his body react naturally.

You can't let your guard down, Chanyeol had said earlier. He never said, stop having fun on court.

The first serve goes to Kyungsoo. Ten minutes, he tells himself — at their current state, the shortest they can last on court is another ten minutes without Baekhyun having to suffer cramps or an ankle injury. He tosses the ball in the air, slightly to the left this time, and tilts his racket so he can add more kick to the ball, swinging from left to right as the aims a service right between the opponent's feet. The ball bounces to the left, angle sharp enough that the player barely catches it by the head of the racket. 1-0, Whimoon.

Rinse and repeat for the next service, except Dong-ah's prepared to return it now, the receiving player moving to his left as Kyungsoo hits the ball with the sweet spot of his racket. The player catches it but the flick of the wrist isn't enough; the ball hits the highest part of the net, sending the ball back to the opponent's court. 2-0, Whimoon.

"You have to change the angle on your next serve. The other guy's running calculations through his head or something," Baekhyun says when they exchange high-fives at the middle.

"The black-haired one?"

"Yeah," Baekhyun confirms. "He's targeting your ankles; better be careful."

Kyungsoo nods. "You be careful. Your form's off," Kyungsoo comments. He runs his eyes through the length of Baekhyun's legs. "Want to do the other thing? Can your legs still take it?"

Baekhyun laughs a little. "I don't know for sure, but they're not giving up on me anytime soon." The smile of his lips reaches his eyes; Kyungsoo exhales loudly. "Let's confuse the shit out of them."

The thing about poaching using the Australian formation is that it requires patience and a lot of moving. Kyungsoo takes the net, bending his knees and leaning forward, and he listens carefully to the screech of Baekhyun's tennis shoes — Baekhyun's just a few spaces shy of the middle line, teasing enough for the players on the other side to be forces to aim all shots to Baekhyun's better side.

Kyungsoo keeps his grip on his racket tight, nonetheless. He takes a deep breath as the opponent tosses the ball in the air — a normal slice serve that lands well inside of the service box. Kyungsoo returns with an easy forehand to the server's forehand, then he moves in as the person aims another backhand to Baekhyun's right. Baekhyun counters with his own backhand, and the ball bounces back and forth, Kyungsoo moving in and out towards the center as he waits for the moment when—

The other player cuts and aims a volley straight to Baekhyun's ankle, and the next thing that Kyungsoo hears is Baekhyun's muffled cry.

"Shit—" Kyungsoo drops his racket, dashing to where Baekhyun is. There's an ugly red patch on the skin, and Baekhyun gasps in pain when he attempts to pull his foot back. "Stop moving," Kyungsoo says, slapping Baekhyun's hand away, and he stands from where he is when the medics approach Baekhyun.

This isn't tennis. Dong-ah's goal is to eliminate the player of Whimoon. This isn't a sport — it's a fight to the death. The dark-haired man's cackling makes Kyungsoo wince; whoever said tennis was a joke was sorely mistaken.

Baekhyun is cleared for playing again a little over five minutes after, and Kyungsoo wraps his fingers around Baekhyun's wrist to keep him in place. "Hey, tell me if you can't play anymore and we'll call this match off," he says softly, eyes lingering on the patch of red on Baekhyun's ankle. It burns the image of a Baekhyun in pain at the back of his eyelids. "You might just injure your ankle all the more and—"

Baekhyun winces in pain for a while, but he shakes his head and straightens up, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he eases himself back into the same pattern of movement he'd employed in the game earlier. There's a more relaxed look on his face now. "I'm okay, trust me. Just… don't choke, Kyungsoo," is the only thing Baekhyun says before heading back to the baseline.

2-1 now in the tie-breaker and Kyungsoo can feel his right elbow throbbing in pain. He blinks a few times until the other side of the court comes into focus. Don't choke, he repeats to himself. Don't you dare choke this time.

Dong-ah is in the finals for a reason — their play in the tiebreaker is the best Kyungsoo has ever seen from anyone they've played against. Dong-ah takes the next point with an easy service down the line, and then the next as the player receiving Baekhyun's service aims a volley between Baekhyun's feet. Kyungsoo had been quick enough to run to Baekhyun's forehand side, but not quick enough to return Dong-ah's forehand shot to the baseline. He balls his right fist as the ball speeds past him. He can feel the fingers in right hand go numb.

There's the sound of Baekhyun gasping in the background, and Kyungsoo quickly looks to his side. Baekhyun's evening out his breathing, eyes fixed on the expanse of blue in front of him. When he looks up, he slips back into his classic smile and says, before heading back to the service box, "Gonna borrow your service."

Baekhyun isn't asking for permission. He's saying, this is me trying to salvage the match, so you better do you part. Kyungsoo nods, anyway, and looks in front of him, eyes fixed on the wrist of the player receiving Baekhyun's service.

Baekhyun's kick serve isn't the best in the game, but it packs enough power and topspin to make the ball heavy and unreturnable. The best chance of returning the shot is with a double-handed backhand, but there's still the highest point of the net keeping the ball from passing through and getting into the other side of the court. Baekhyun pumps his fist in his side, then taps Kyungsoo lightly with his racket, eyes seeking validation as he wiggles his eyebrows. 3-3 in the tie-breaker.

"Not as good as mine," Kyungsoo comments, smirking. Baekhyun waves him off with his left hand and returns to his side of the court.

It's the longest, most painfully gruelling two points after that, with Dong-ah dragging out rallies until Baekhyun's knees give away and Kyungsoo has to intercept the ball with a volley to the back. The man with black hair has been eyeing Baekhyun's ankle for the past two minutes or so, and Kyungsoo does his best to reach the balls aimed at Baekhyun with his forehand whenever he can. Don't choke, he tells himself as the tie-breaker reaches 4-5, thanks to Baekhyun's drop volley. Baekhyun lets out a cry — of relief or pain, Kyungsoo can't tell at the moment, but Baekhyun is wincing again when Kyungsoo looks over his shoulder. The grip on Baekhyun's racket is loose.

"They're gonna slow down now," Baekhyun says from behind him. Kyungsoo bends his knees even more, left foot ready to move to the side at the strike of the ball.

The first serve catches on the net, and the second serve almost misses the tip of the net. Kyungsoo grins as he watches the ball roll over to Dong-ah's side of the court. The linesman's call is music to his ears. "Double fault!"

Kyungsoo furrows his eyebrows as he watches the server toss the ball slightly to the left. He hears the light screeching of Baekhyun's shoes beside him and he tightens his grip on his racket in preparation for the serve he has to receive. He hits the ball to the opponent's forehand, and what follows is a rally of shots blazing over the net, routinary until the other player from Dong-ah hits a forehand to the back, and Kyungsoo watches the ball speed past him, watches as Baekhyun slides to the right, stretching his arm to lob the ball across the court.

"Shit—" Baekhyun's voice is loud enough to cut through the thick blanket of cheers, and Kyungsoo can hear the bounce of the ball off his opponent's racket, and he can see the ball just a few feet away. If he goes with a backhand, it will be too late, and Dong-ah will be up 5-6. A forehand won't be any good, either. Baekhyun's pained noises ring in his ear as he fixes his eyes on the ball, fingers going numb, arms shaking.

He takes a deep breath and switches his racket to his right hand, then hits the ball with a volley just a few feet shy of the net.

"What the—"

Kyungsoo stares at his racket in his right hand, the curl of his fingers on the handle, the light tremble shooting up his right arm. When he tightens his grip, there's a pain welling up in his elbow, so he switches back to his left hand, the racket finding a more comfortable fit. "Kyungsoo, what are you—" Baekhyun says, eyes wide when he approaches Kyungsoo, and the umpire's telling everyone to keep quiet, and the umpire's saying, "6-5, match point."

"Baekhyun, do it."

"You used your right hand—"

"We don't have time to discuss that here," Kyungsoo says through gritted teeth. "Do the serve, Baekhyun."

Baekhyun looks at him for a while, then lets his gaze drop to the racket now in his left hand. "Do I swing more from the left?" Baekhyun asks before turning his heel to return to the baseline, and Kyungsoo gives him a thumbs up, a small smile, a curt nod.

Kyungsoo counts to ten as he approaches the net and bends his knees. He listens carefully to the bouncing of the ball just over his shoulder, to the movement of Baekhyun's feet. He takes a deep breath as the bouncing comes to a halt — the ball set up. Then the sweet sound of the ball hitting the strings of the racket fills the air.— the attack — and Baekhyun lands back on the ground, both feet on court, ready to take on another shot.

The ball lands right between the opponent's feet and bounces to the left, out of the court and into the wiring separating the crowd from the players.

Kyungsoo turns on his heel and lets out all the breath he's held in since the start of the service. Baekhyun's racket lays forgotten on the court, and this time it's Kyungsoo who takes a step forward, taking Baekhyun in his arms as the cheers grow louder.

"Game, set, and match, Whimoon! 6-4, 7-6(5)!"

Zitao loses singles three but not without putting up a fight, 5-7 7-6(10) 6-4, and Jongdae vows to avenge Zitao's loss as he powers through his match with well-timed forehand winners and clean service aces. He serves a total of twelve aces throughout the match, and Kyungsoo gives him a high-five when they meet in Whimoon's box again, before Chanyeol heads to the courts for the deciding match of the championship.

"Gonna give me a run for my money, huh? Taking the title of the best server from me now?" Kyungsoo teases. Jongdae shakes his head and envelops him in a hug, ruffling his hair before letting him go.

"So, you taught Baekhyun the serve, huh?"

He risks a glance at Baekhyun who has taken it upon himself to console Zitao by choking up fake sobs and wailing for effect. Zitao has calmed down considerably, only a wistful smile on his lips and beads at the corners of his eyes serving as proof of his breakdown earlier. Baekhyun flashes a v-sign at Kyungsoo when their eyes meet, then traces lines down his face, pretending to cry as Zitao hits the back of his head.

Kyungsoo laughs a little. "Nah, he learned it on his own." To Chanyeol, he waves and raises his crossed fingers, then mouths, kick them in the ass, captain!

Chanyeol rarely ever gets to play in tournaments these days, ever since he was moved to singles one, but he moves like he hasn't stopped playing singles since he's met Jongdae. Chanyeol, whose long limbs can cover distances Kyungsoo would normally need two to three steps to cover, isn't anything like the awkward figure he is when he walks down the aisle or rounds up the players in time for Yunho to give everyone a lecture, then a pep talk. "I think this is good, too, for the two of us," Jongdae comments after a while, then leans on Kyungsoo's shoulder. "Time apart and all. I mean, we still practice together, but we're now on different ends of the court and—"

"He says it feels weird, not having you around," Kyungsoo confesses. He shoots a glance at Jongdae for a while, then turns his attention back to the game when Chanyeol lets out a victory cry, following a great rally. "That it will take some getting used to, and that he'd rather play doubles even if it means having to step back so you can do all your acrobatic stuff."

"Mental acrobatics, you mean," Jongdae replies, snorting. "He's just saying that because no one's there to pick up after him anymore. You know him, he gets lazy sometimes."

Kyungsoo shrugs, then leans his head on Jongdae's own. "That's just how doubles is, I guess."

Jongdae lifts his head for a while and looks at him — just looks at him with a silly grin on his lips and a peculiar glint in his eyes. This is amusement, not the adrenaline of winning pushing Jongdae to do weird things that Kyungsoo normally cannot make sense of. "Yeah, I guess," Jongdae says, propping his clasped hands under his chin.

Kyungsoo looks at Baekhyun — now confined under a headlock, courtesy of Zitao, and subject to a fit of giggles from Jongin and Taemin. He shakes his head and just laughs, even when Baekhyun looks his way, sending pleas for help. This is partnership, having to deal with someone's quirks and trying to make the most out of them. This, coming to accept one's antics and coming to appreciate them, is teamwork. Putting up with Baekhyun requires a lot of hard work, but he's getting better at it; he's fast becoming an expert.

Kyungsoo laughs to himself. This is doubles, indeed.

Yunho calls for a celebration after Chanyeol's win, but everybody knows he won't even make it past his acceptance speech with the way his eyes are glistening with tears right now. Chanyeol doesn't make things better, bursting into tears at the sight of the championship trophy and grabbing the person nearest to him — Jongdae plays the part of the victim this time — and burying his face in Jongdae's hair. "I can't believe we actually did it," Chanyeol says, voice slightly muffled in Jongdae's scalp, and Jongdae steadily rubs circles on Chanyeol's back, saying, again and again, "This is real. We did it. We won the championship!"

Beside Kyungsoo, Baekhyun sniffles, and Kyungsoo quickly snakes an arm around Baekhyun's shoulders to pull him close. It takes no more than a few seconds for Baekhyun's soft sobs to turn into tears, and Kyungsoo soaks them all up, fingers carding through Baekhyun's hair in time with Baekhyun's rhythmic breathing.

The trip back to school is quiet, save for Jongdae bursting into song from time to time and Yunho taking some calls, dropping names and thank you's and yes, we'd be glad to have an exhibition match just for that; it would be an honor. Baekhyun's fitful snores are the soundtrack of the trip, and Kyungsoo keeps his eyes locked on the scenery just beyond the window, fingers caged under the warm press of Baekhyun's hand.

"Don't wanna move," Baekhyun says, grumbling. "Don't wanna get up."

Jongdae nudges Baekhyun in the ass and gestures for Baekhyun to make room on the benches, but Baekhyun barely even budges, sticking out a tongue. "Nope, sorry, I'm the man who can't be moved," Baekhyun quips, English clear enough to earn a raise of an eyebrow from Kyungsoo, and Jongdae erupts into this peculiar squeal of delight that has Chanyeol half wincing, half cringing in his seat as he stuffs the last bit of pizza in his mouth.

"Please don't sully the song. I love The Script," Jongdae comments.

"Wow, you actually have good taste in music!"

Jongdae bolts in his seat and wraps his fingers around Baekhyun's neck, grinning as he tightens his grip.

Kyungsoo has long left the crime scene, cleaning up the remnants of the small party in the locker rooms. He's busy arranging pizza boxes near the door when Chanyeol walks up to him, asking, "Do you two have anything planned after this?"

Jongdae still hasn't stopped threatening to put an end to Baekhyun's life, and Baekhyun's doing his best imitation of The Script's lead singer, belting out choice parts while Jongdae hits him on the chest. Kyungsoo shakes his head, mumbling, "Nah, nothing. I was actually hoping to hit some balls. Gotta clear my mind and stuff."

"Ah," Chanyeol says. He stands back up, shoulders dropping as he exhales loudly. "I... didn't think you'd actually use your right hand to play again, you know."

Kyungsoo straightens up and places the last box of pizza on top of the stack. There's light laughter spilling from his lips now, as he recalls the last few minutes of that tie-breaker. "I had to," he answers after a while. "Baekhyun would have taken another shot to the ankle if I didn't." He leans back on the wall, the cool tiles sending a shiver down his spine. He favors Baekhyun's hand on the small of his back over this, albeit the lack of support. "I didn't see it coming, either. I just—"

"Acted on impulse in the hoping of salvaging the point and protecting Baekhyun." Chanyeol breaks out into a grin. "I know."

There's silence for a while, until Jongdae breaks the ice, saying, "Get up— Get off me, Baekhyun! I have a date!" Kyungsoo quickly turns to Chanyeol, eyebrow raised and eyes wide as Jongdae continues, "Hey Yeol, what time are we leaving?"

"You two are going on a date?" Baekhyun asks, a hint of amusement in the lilt of his voice.

Chanyeol doesn't answer; instead, he turns to Jongdae with a grin, awkward around the corners. "I was just waiting for you to finish killing Baekhyun. You good to go now?"

"Ew. At least wash your hands first," Jongdae comments as peels himself off of Baekhyun and gets to his feet, jabbing Baekhyun's arm lightly before gesturing for Chanyeol to come over. "I'm not sure if it's good to take baking classes after a long match…"

Chanyeol and Jongdae excuse themselves after a while, and Jongdae's baking tales are soon drowned out when the doors of the room snap shut.

The locker room is quiet, save for the occasional noise of water dripping from the showers. Baekhyun almost shrieks when a stack of food containers topples over, and Kyungsoo quickly rushes to his side, helping him make sense of the mess. They haven't really had much time to talk following their win, Baekhyun filing himself to the far end of the room or between other people during the small victory party in the locker room, and Kyungsoo had been busy talking to Yunho about scholarships and potentially playing an exhibition match for the talent scouts of Yonsei and Korea University to see.

"I hate silence," Baekhyun says after a while, after they've thrown the last of the packets of hot sauce into the waste basket. "Makes me feels so small. I don't need anyone telling me I'm tinier than I already am."

Kyungsoo chuckles. "If you're small, then what am I? A microorganism?"

Baekhyun laughs a little. "My pocket doubles partner."

Baekhyun's cheeks are a light shade of pink, brightest at the center, the hue slowly fading out as Baekhyun contorts his face in many different ways. "Thank you, by the way. I didn't think you'd—" His voice trails off, and he rests his hands on Kyungsoo's shoulders. Baekhyun's pinky sticks out, hovering the base of his throat, and Kyungsoo gulps hard on instinct.

Baekhyun takes a step closer — one step, and Kyungsoo can feel the light tremble of Baekhyun's hands. Two, and he can feel Baekhyun's breath hot on the tip of his nose.

"It was nothing. We're doubles partners; we're supposed to help each other—"

"Not put each other's careers at stake," Baekhyun interrupts. His right hand slides down Kyungsoo's right arm, stopping just above his elbow. "Thank you for risking your arm out there," Baekhyun adds, laughing a little. He rubs slow circles on the tender skin lightly. "I… didn't expect it."

Kyungsoo scrunches his nose. "Neither did I, to be honest."

The smile on Baekhyun's lips is indiscernible, and Kyungsoo berates himself for it. He's supposed to have Baekhyun memorized like the back of his hand now, like a song stuck in his head or a shadow play whose routine he's supposed to known inside out even with his eyes closed. He moves closer, like the lack of distance will help him understand Baekhyun more, better, easier, and their noses bump, and he reaches up, curling his fingers on the base of Baekhyun's neck.

"You're not hurt, right?" Baekhyun asks. His breathing is even, but his fingers are cold, sending shivers down Kyungsoo's spine as Baekhyun runs his fingers along the length of Kyungsoo's face, tracing its contours. His hands land on Kyungsoo's collarbones. "Because if you are—"

"Will you kiss it better?" Kyungsoo teases. A grin breaks across Baekhyun's features. He can see the light in Baekhyun's eyes; it's blinding.

The hand on Kyungsoo's elbow slides down to his wrist, and Baekhyun brings Kyungsoo's wrist between them, kissing the flesh where the bone protrudes, then darting out his tongue before sucking on the skin. He plants kisses on the back of Kyungsoo's hand, then nips on Kyungsoo's fingers one by one, sucking lightly, and presses a kiss on Kyungsoo's palm when he finishes. "I feel like this isn't enough," Baekhyun whispers, lips dangerously close to Kyungsoo's ear, and Kyungsoo tilts his head to the side in invitation, closing his eyes as he takes a deep breath.

Kyungsoo lets his arms fall to his sides.

Baekhyun traces kisses down the column of Kyungsoo's neck, sucking on the base of his throat that leaves Kyungsoo laughs a little, the warm sensation tickling his skin. Baekhyun quickly moves back up, though, swallowing Kyungsoo's laughter in the warm press of his mouth on Kyungsoo's own. This isn't Kyungsoo's first, but it feels much more juvenile, less careful and calculated than those he'd shared with Jihoon in the past. Baekhyun kisses like a fucking kid, messy on the corners and with too much pressure as he sucks on Kyungsoo's tongue and nips Kyungsoo's bottom lip. Kyungsoo captures Baekhyun's upper lip and he sucks, slow and languid, Baekhyun moaning right into the open press of Kyungsoo's mouth.

Baekhyun's giggling when they pull away, cheeks flush with heat. Kyungsoo takes a service straight to the gut.

"I'm still in pain," Kyungsoo complains. He licks his bottom lip slowly, and Baekhyun takes him by the wrist, pulling him close.

The journey south continues when they slip into the showers, bodies slick with water as Baekhyun pushes Kyungsoo against the wall. Baekhyun drops to his knees and plants a trail of kisses from Kyungsoo's stomach down to his inner thigh, lips hovering the tip fo Kyungsoo's dick. Baekhyun's breath is warm against the sensitive skin, and Kyungsoo takes a deep breath, gulps hard when Baekhyun leans closer.

"May I?" he asks, and Kyungsoo simply nods. He runs his fingers through Baekhyun's hair, grip tight enough to keep him in check, but loose enough for comfort.

The first contact of skin on skin sends shivers down Kyungsoo's spine, and he tightens his grip on Baekhyun, nails digging into Baekhyun's scalp. Baekhyun moves in and out, bobbing his head as he slips a hand behind Kyungsoo to cup his ass. Kyungsoo can feel the slightest movement of Baekhyun's lips, the light upward tug before Baekhyun breathes out. Baekhyun licks on the underside of the shaft, draws out a long suck, and Kyungsoo lets out a grunt, a small sound. Baekhyun repeats the motion, sucking harder this time, and Kyungsoo's face falls forward, hands falling on Baekhyun's shoulders.

He can feel the warm press of Baekhyun's cheek on his inner thigh, Baekhyun's low humming only adding more tension to his muscles. He can feel his abdomen coiling up. "Baekhyun, please—" he says, pleading as he chokes somewhere towards the end, and Baekhyun looks up, gaze taunting when he slowly pulls back, Kyungsoo's half-hard cock coming off with a dull pop.

Baekhyun keeps his hands fastened on Kyungsoo's waist as he slowly gets up, and Kyungsoo slides his knee between Baekhyun's legs. "Kyung—soo—" Baekhyun's lips are hot against Kyungsoo's neck, and he hooks one foot around Baekhyun's ankle to pull their bodies closer. He can feel the light tremble of Baekhyun's body, the vibrations of Baekhyun's shaky breathing when Kyungsoo licks a stripe on the area under his jaw. Kyungsoo bucks his hips forward, craving contact, and Baekhyun winces when their cocks slide against each other, unceremonious, precum beading on the tip of his dick.

Kyungsoo presses his lips on Baekhyun's as he takes both of their cocks in his hand, starting with slow, easy strokes, slowly picking up pace to match their ragged breathing.

Baekhyun buries his face in the crook of Kyungsoo's neck, sucking hard on Kyungsoo's skin as Kyungsoo pumps harder, each stroke more drawn out that the other. Baekhyun soft ah's fill the air, ringing in Kyungsoo's ears, and Baekhyun soon comes, spilling all over Kyungsoo's chest with one last pump. Baekhyun draws a shaky hand up, thumb stroking the top of Kyungsoo's cock, and Kyungsoo comes not too long after with a low cry. He laps on the remnants of his release on Baekhyun's chin, the base of Baekhyun's throat, Baekhyun's collarbones, a corner of Baekhyun's mouth. There's still a hint of laughter bubbling Baekhyun's lips, so Kyungsoo catches it, takes it all until he can feel nothing but the vibrations of Baekhyun's laughter at the back of his throat, Baekhyun's hands sliding up and down Kyungsoo's back as he deepens the kiss.

"We should... clean up," Baekhyun says when the pull away, breathing still heavy and ragged. His cheeks are the most beautiful shade of red. His eyes are saying, we could… play dirty; the hand on the small of Kyungsoo's back is saying, can we stay like this a little longer?

Kyungsoo presses a light kiss on the tip of Baekhyun's nose. He slaps Baekhyun hard on the ass before reaching for the shampoo, then sucks on the back of Baekhyun's ear. Baekhyun's laughter is shrill and sharp, and it cuts Kyungsoo wide open.

He doesn't mind the pain at all.

"We should," Kyungsoo says, grinning. "We probably should."

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