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Jaehyun enters him carelessly, and with brute force. Quickly, he realizes how tight the stranger is, and how uncomfortable it must feel for him. He leans forward and he means to ask, but the man, in his half-lidded eyes, appears to be enjoying it deeply.
“Go on,” the stranger says, both his eyes flying open suddenly, watching Jaehyun curiously from where he is lying in his back on the bed. He sounds wrecked already and Jaehyun has barely gotten all of his dick in. So he moves forward, lifting both of the stranger’s legs in his arms, mechanically, like how he has done so several dozens of times, and the man groans like an animal, either in pleasure or in pain, Jaehyun can’t tell. He only watches and moves rather slowly, trying his best to savor the sounds coming from the body of the man he’s only met literally two hours ago lying limp, pliant in the bed. But it doesn't work. His mind is filled with thoughts of someone else.
“Can I,” Jaehyun asks, voice low. “Can I cover your face?”
The man immediately nods, his head straining from the simple motion of bobbing up and down.
Jaehyun moves his hand, large and empty, to cover the face of the stranger, as he starts to move more rigorously on top him.
“Can you not make a sound,” Jaehyun requests, and he could do nothing but comply.
His eyes are wide open as he stares up through the gaps between Jaehyun’s hands, as his thrusts become wilder, one of his hands now grasping tightly the stranger’s chest, pinning him down. He is trying to forcibly keep quiet, but the sensation is building up within him now, as he moves rougher, more feral and without any rhythm at all, eyes forced shut, as he rides in on the coil of pleasure that is starting to get uncapped and spill at the pit of his crotch.
“You are so beautiful,” the stranger says, in that voice of his that sounds distinctly like his, which is to say, the voice of someone he doesn’t know, someone he merely brought home one evening.
Jaehyun moves his other hand to cover his mouth, stifling his breathing, which makes the stranger moan even harder against his palm, breath all hot and a bit moist, as he starts to move his hips up to grind up to Jaehyun’s, matching his rhythm, and it feels good, truly, it feels good, as it should, but Jaehyun merely watches the stranger writhe under his body, eyes closed tightly now, his hair damp against the sides of his face. Jaehyun could feel the man getting close and he fucks him harder, faster, his head banging deliriously against the headboard now, as the stranger stays pressed down on the bed, dick already leaking from plenty of precum all over his stomach, whines morphing into stifled shouts, under Jaehyun’s hands and body.
At last, he manages to swat the hand covering his face off, and takes a deep gulp of breath before white, hot cum shoots from his dick, spreading down his chest, the farthest drop reaching his throat, and Jaehyun stops immediately, pulling out unceremoniously. He gets off the bed and snaps the condom off his cock, still large and throbbing.
The stranger breathes noisily. “Do you want me to suck you off?”
But Jaehyun shakes his head. “That’s okay. Thanks for offering,” he says, stepping off the bed and walking towards his desk.
He is naked and under the light of the moon from the sky outside filtering in through the large windows, one could see how perfect his figure is. His long, perfect legs, paired with his perfect, tight stomach and shoulders, and his perfect boulder of a chest. He brushes the hair off his face and lights a cigarette.
“You can go,” he says to the stranger.
“Listen,” the man says. “I get it,” he lifts both his hands up, as if in surrender. “I’m not your type. It’s fine. It’s not like I’m staying the night. But can I at least catch my breath? That was the fastest I’ve come for a long time,” he says, laughing a little.
Jaehyun pulls the chair out of his desk. “No,” he says, trying to sounds as kind as he could, refusing to look at him. “I think you should go.”
The stranger tsks loudly, not even attempting to hide his distaste. “Okay, dude. Not just because you’re hot, you can treat anyone like that. Jeez,” he whines, climbing off the bed and putting on his pants hastily. “I’m leaving. Thanks for the dick, I guess,” he says as he zips his pants in, grabs his shirt, and turns to leave.
Jaehyun pulls a long drag from his cigarette, quietly, as he remains seated by his desk, his back turned away from the stranger.
The man lingers by the door. “Seriously?”
Finally, Jaehyun glances at him and the man is stunned by his beauty, no matter how half of his face is literally hidden by the shadows. He still manages to look breathtaking, as if the Gods really took their time crafting him, if only to break people’s hearts after a goddamn one night stand.
“Okay,” he whispers before turning to leave.
After he leaves, finally alone now, Jaehyun puts on his sweatpants. He opens his window and leans his head outside, catching the fragrance of the small hours of the evening. Then he moves around his room, lights still completely turned off, but sliding the curtains open fully and letting the light of the full moon in. He moves with familiarity among his belongings, pulling out a record from his meager collection of vinyls, and deftly putting it into his record player.
I’ll be the boyfriend
In your wet dreams tonight, the song begins and Jaehyun savors the melody coming off the player. Lights another cigarette.
Wish I was there
Wish we’d grown up from the same advice,
And the time was right, the song goes and Jaehyun lets his head lean farther back his chair. Somehow, the song stirs within him a familiar, heavy feeling and he feels his eyes start to water.
He closes his eyes and lets himself remember: how the two of them had listened to this record so many times, at various hours of day, in different states of undress. He lets himself remember how beautifully they had touched, how their bodies just fell in sync, whether in some hot, crazed rush, or in an unknowable perfect slow motion.
Keep a place for me, the record croons and Jaehyun feels a deep, absurd, physical pain within his chest it makes him bend over. His head falls into both his hands as he sits there like that, burdened by something irrevocably heavy and utterly his own. The song goes on, somehow, its repetitive lyrics ringing in his ears, as if pushing him to remember, to perhaps, do something more. He pulls one last, long drag from his cigarette before he gets up to throw the stub out and then to find his phone, still tucked inside in his jeans’ pockets. His fingers dial the numbers before his brain comprehends what he is about to do.
The phone rings and before he could pull himself together and put the phone down and just, goddamn it, head back to bed, Doyoung answers after the second ring, as if he knew Jaehyun was going to call, as if it was just one of those nights when Doyoung was coming home late from a night out and Jaehyun has to call to make sure he arrives safely.
“Hey,” Jaehyun says, his voice coming out all scratchy from his throat.
“In the cab,” Doyoung slurs from his end of the line. For a moment, it feels like they are still together, the words sounding so convincingly familiar. It sounds like a million of the conversations they had before, at this exact time of the night, and the memory hits Jaehyun like a bus, a truck, a big, solid weight, and he falls to his knees, stupidly, like his body could not bear the weight of his longing, now only realizing how badly he’s missed hearing Doyoung’s stupid sleepy, drunk, about to vomit voice.
“Where..." he stutters, "Uh, where are you exactly,” Jaehyun says, proceeding now from the script of their long, intimate relationship and as if catching on, Doyoung laughs from the other end.
“I can’t see because my eyes are closed,” he says, sounding so sweet and so much like Doyoung. Jaehyun clutches the phone closer to his ears, as if it would make Doyoung’s voice grow closer, as if it would make him appear beside him, present. The enormity of his longing and desire disgusts him, but only for a moment, and he chuckles, letting the emotion wash over him instead, simmering.
"That funny?" Doyoung says.
Jaehyun smiles to himself, then exhales, low and long.
“Are you drunk?” Jaehyun asks now, falling into the rhythm as easily as if it were mere days since they last spoke like this and not four years. Four years. How did he last that long without Doyoung in his life?
“Yes,” Doyoung replies and he sighs deeply into his phone, the sound of it so soft and so endearing, Jaehyun has to close his eyes to stifle the sob coming from his throat. He wants nothing but to bury his face in Doyoung's chest, to feel his warmth, the quiet beating of his heart. It's been so long since he felt something this colossal and he doesn't know how to handle it.
“And you? Why are you still up?” Doyoung asks after the long beat of silence.
It is in that split second, that in which everything precariously lies in the balance. He can simply shrug it off and head back to bed, in his empty bed, and sleep a solitary slumber, which is what all his nights have been for years, until he had run into Doyoung earlier today, until he had seen him with his own two eyes after fucking up everything four years ago. But he knows, fuck it if he doesn't, he knows he's too deeply naked and open already tonight to turn back. And jesus christ, he's even sober. But he says what he wants to say anyway, which is: “I… I missed you,” Jaehyun says, in reckless abandon, in the voice of the wrecked and the pining.
Everything slows and then stills.
“I forgot to say that earlier,” Jaehyun whispers.
And how could he have denied it. How could he not tell him. The effect of what he said is so instant it makes Doyoung gasp, not loudly, not at alk, but the cab is quiet, the night is deep, and one could hear every sound the other makes. And Jaehyun hears it, the little catch in Doyoung's breath as he weighs his reply. If a drunk man could. But he is Doyoung and he thinks well, he overthinks everything. So Jaehyun waits.
“I’m very drunk,” is what he says, laughing a small little laugh, but more consciously now, and Jaehyun could sense Doyoung gaining ground. Jaehyun could sense where Doyoung's mind is heading next.
"I’m not,” is what Jaehyun says, and it’s true, he has never felt more absurd clarity than he did that moment, as he slowly sits up, phone in hand, moving to the edge of his bed.
“Okay,” Doyoung slurs.
“Please,” Jaehyun says on the phone, and it means, Come home. It means, I miss you. It means, I’m sorry. It is quiet and he can’t tell if Doyoung hears it, so he repeats it, “Please.” Jaehyun can no longer tell how long they have been on the phone, very few words spoken, but it seems a long time because the song has changed so many times and Frank Ocean now goes, We’re both so familiar. He chuckles at that and Doyoung hears it, and he chuckles a little, too. The sound of their laughter clashing with one another, complementing the breathlessness of it.
“I care for you still and I will, forever,” Jaehyun murmurs, not to the phone in his hand specifically, distantly, and simply because it is what the song is saying, but Doyoung hears it, probably recognizes the song, and Jaehyun sings the rest of it, if not for Doyoung then for himself, "That was part of the deal," and in the cab, where Doyoung is, he asks the driver to turn around, and gives him a new direction. It surprises him a little to be able to recall it as clearly and accurately as he did, in his drunken state, after all this years, and the feeling washes over him pleasantly, like maybe he isn’t really drunk, maybe this is really how it should feel, what simply awareness is.
Doyoung leans back in his seat again and says to his phone, “Are you still there?”
And Jaehyun answers before he finishes the question to say that yes, he is there, of course, he is, he's not going anywhere, not anymore.
“Okay,” Doyoung says, in whisper so small nobody else could have heard it. But Jaehyun catches it anyway and he whispers back: “Okay.”