Work Text:
K's been around his members for long enough now that it takes a lot to surprise him, even when comments and questions come completely out of the blue.
He's on the sofa, attempting to read a book that was recommended to him, with Maki at the other end, legs curled up under him, leaning against the arm. Maki's wearing a hoodie that's far too big for him, pulled over his hands, and he looks nothing like the Maki that fans see on camera. He doesn't look younger exactly, but he looks sweeter somehow. It's cute.
"K-hyung. You've been with guys before, right?"
"I have, yes," he replies, cautiously, putting his book down. He suspects that won't be the only question, but if this ends in a whole sex talk, he's going to be pissed. He had to do the talk with Taki years ago, and he refuses to do it again. It's Fuma's turn next.
Maki smiles at him, as if he got the answer he was looking for. He untucks his legs and crawls over the sofa closer to K, somehow more graceful than anyone with limbs that long should be. He's on his knees, facing K, one arm propped over the back to keep himself steady. He's close enough that K can smell the scent he bought for Maki's birthday.
"And you've kissed guys?"
K doesn't actually respond this time, because he doesn't have a chance. Maki has pushed up further on his knees, his face too close to K's for comfort. K can see a whole series of expressions flash across Maki's handsome face, finally settling on a familiar determined one.
"Can I kiss you?" Maki asks, and despite the look on his face, the almost imperceptible tremble in his voice betrays him. "Just once?"
K curses under his breath. He's spent far too long trying to ignore the way their youngest is growing up. The way he is building muscles and mass, solid and toned. The way he looks at K when he thinks he can't be seen. He tries to ignore the way his own chest constricts when Maki smiles at him. The way he thinks about kissing him when he's alone and tired and too exhausted to stop himself.
Maki's even younger than Taki, and that's too many years difference between them for anything to work. K's the eldest, if not the leader, still someone with authority in the group. And neither of those things even take into consideration the fact they're in the same group. Not that they'd be the only ones who were trying something out. But this is different. This is him. And Maki.
He shakes his head, chasing away that line of thought. Maki asked about a kiss, that's all. Not a long-term relationship. He probably just wants to experiment with someone experienced that he trusts. K should be honoured that Maki trusts him enough to come to with this. He shouldn't be subjected to K's inappropriate daydreams.
Maki scrambles back across the sofa, less confident now. He pulls his long legs under him and wraps his arms around his knees, making himself as small as possible. "Oh. Okay. I'm sorry."
Shit.
"I wasn't saying no," K says quickly, realising that his head shake was probably taken the wrong way. He reaches out to put his hand on Maki's arm, hoping it comes across as comforting, not restricting. He's relieved when Maki doesn't pull away. "I just need to know what you're thinking."
Maki looks at him, head tilted like he's trying to read something in a language he's unfamiliar with. It's such a perfectly Maki expression that K can't help but smile.
"You want to see what it's like? Kissing?" he prompts when Maki doesn't answer.
This time it's Maki shaking his head, amused by the question.
"Seriously, hyung? I know how to kiss. I'm nineteen, not twelve."
K wants to demand names so he can kick their asses, but this is probably not the time. He bets it's that Matthew kid. They spent a lot of time together…
"I just really want to kiss you."
Oh.
There were a million responses K expected. That wasn't any of them.
"Why?"
The question pops out before he can think better of it.
Maki laughs, some of the nervousness seemingly gone. "You're kidding, right? Maybe it's because you're amazing and kind, and so freaking talented. You look after us all so much, especially me. And have you seen yourself recently? You're probably the most gorgeous person I've ever met, and…"
He trails off, as though he's run out of steam and there's a slightly awkward silence. K thinks he should say something, but his brain is a mess of thoughts and feelings and he's confused by how this whole conversation has gone. He's never seen himself through someone else's eyes quite like this. He's never had someone say these things to him, not like this. Not with so much honesty.
When Maki speaks again, he's quieter, and he looks down at the hands in his lap. "And I've been low-key in love with you for about three years now."
There are a million reasons why K should let Maki down gently, but at that moment, he can't think of a single one. All he can do is look at Maki, and at the way he's so hopeful and scared at the same time and how both of those expressions are K's fault.
He shuffles himself across the sofa, much less smooth than Maki was, almost tripping as he catches his foot on the rug. And then he's sitting face-to-face with Maki, and he pulls both of Maki's hands into his own, marvelling at how well they fit together. Maki squeezes his hands, maybe understanding more than K does about the uncertainty in his head. For a minute, neither of them move. They just look at each other, holding hands. K knows that he has to say the next words because Maki has already been more than brave enough, but when he does, it's going to change things between them.
Change isn't always bad though.
He reaches out one hand, placing it on Maki's cheek. It's partly to make sure he can look Maki in the eyes when he speaks, and partly because he just needs to touch him more. Maki's skin is warm, a little flushed, but he doesn't break eye contact at all.
He's got such pretty eyes. He's so pretty in general.
"Are you really sure?" K has to hear the words. His own heart is thumping in his chest and he hopes Maki knows how nervous he is, that he understands how big this is for him. For them both. "I need you to be sure."
Maki turns his head, just enough that his lips brush against K's hand when he answers, but he still doesn't look away. "I don't think I've ever been more sure of anything in my whole life."
K has spent years priding himself on his focus, his dedication, his work ethic. Years of his life that he's spent pushing for everything he's achieved as an artist, that they've achieved as a group. He's known he wanted to perform on stage for so long that he barely had time to consider anything else.
And yet at this moment, none of that matters. The only thing he cares about right then is the way Maki is looking at him.
Without waiting any longer, he leans in and kisses Maki in the way he's only dreamed about.
It's gentle at first, barely a brush of lips, and he thinks for a moment that he'll be content if that's all he ever gets. But then he feels Maki's hand on his shoulder, sliding around his neck, into his hair, and the kiss becomes so much more.
Maki moans softly into his mouth, and suddenly it's not nearly enough; K needs him closer. He wraps his arm around Maki's waist and tugs until Maki takes the hint and climbs into his lap. His body fits there as perfectly as his hands did in K's, his arms wrapping around K's neck, his legs bracketing K's thighs, his weight grounding K's mind.
He wastes no more time, and starts kissing K again, this time licking at the seam of his lips, demanding more.
In the moments before his last brain cell switches off completely, K thinks that having Maki here, like this, might be his greatest achievement yet.