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Hyunjin thinks it started on the set of Red Lights. He can’t be entirely sure, considering every single emotion burst out of him during that shoot, hot and red and raw as if he had been nursing them for years. It could have started when they were in training and Chan was keeping them all steady, or when he held them together after they lost a member, or maybe when they were writing Red Lights together. But it all came to fruition during that shoot, when Chan touched him so easily and casually eye fucked him across the table, and Hyunjin suddenly felt a beast roiling beneath his skin, begging to be let out.
Because there were moments, more than the ones captured on camera, more than the ones captured for the behind the scenes, when Chan wasn’t playing his character or playing into the fantasy. His hot gaze would linger after their director called cut, his hand would tighten around Hyunjin’s throat for just a second too long. It was worse when he was behind the camera during Hyunjin’s solo scenes, arms crossed and brow furrowed as Hyunjin writhed in bed—suddenly picturing his leader on top of him.
So it started there, and it wasn’t just Hyunjin’s imagination, it couldn't be. He didn’t let himself linger in limbo for long, he couldn’t with that beast under his skin, calling for Chan in all the worst ways possible. Their shoot finished, the music video went to the editors, and that night, once they were showered and back in the dorm, Hyunjin made his move.
“We should do that… again… hyung,” he said lamely, the words falling flat at his feet. Without a camera pointed at him or a fan scrutinizing him, Hyunjin found he was constantly falling flat like that.
Chan stared at him, confused at first, and for a moment, something flashed over his face—maybe something like want. But it was gone in the next breath and then he let Hyunjin down easy.
Maybe if he had just broken his heart outright, Hyunjin wouldn’t have held a candle for him for two years. But Chan didn’t break his heart, so Hyunjin does. He watches Chan for years, seeing the ways he denies himself and tries to be a good leader. He notices who Chan calls hot and scrutinizes their pictures, searching for parts of himself in their bodies. He can’t decide if Chan really didn’t want him or was just denying himself pointlessly.
Eventually, he can’t keep it to himself any longer. He confides in Felix one night, when they’re laying in bed together. Felix is almost entirely on top of him, forcing skinship onto Hyunjin that he can’t find in himself to deny. It bursts out of him then, just like it did on set, and he’s suddenly spilling his guts to Felix. He takes it all in stride, calming Hyunjin when he feels close to exploding, and whispering with him late into the night, dissecting and circling the issue at hand.
At first, Felix tries to give him advice. Hyunjin ignores it all wholesale, refusing to talk to Chan again for closure or fuck someone else to make himself feel better. Felix gives up eventually, but never stops listening. He pets Hyunjin’s hair while he whines, sometimes innocently destroyed by Chan’s outfit during an interview and sometimes tearily confessing that he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to get over his leader.
Those teary confessions do lessen. Time passes and Hyunjin can go weeks without sending his leader a single loaded look. Felix is there all the while, keeping him together whenever things get difficult again. And eventually, Hyunjin manages to bury it. He lets go of his fantasy of Chan coming to his senses and sweeping him off his feet.
Then, Chan pitches Taste to them. They’re sitting in Chan’s studio when he tells them about it, playing a short instrumental sample that he’s been messing around with, and grinning while talking about making Stay happy again. Felix puts an arm around Hyunjin’s shoulders as he agrees and Minho is wearing a devilish, eager smile. Hyunjin grits his teeth and puts on a grin, even while saddled with the sinking feeling that what has stayed locked away for the last ten months, will be unleashed again.
Felix takes the lead on the early stages of creation and Minho picks up the rest of Hyunjin’s slack. They spend long hours in Chan’s studio, tweaking lyrics and fussing with the production. Hyunjin’s feelings do break out of the box he had locked them into, but not in the same form that he had seen them last. Where that beast was once wanting and desperate, now it’s angry. It’s angry—he’s angry—when Chan stares at him while he pitches his lyrics, twisting them into something even more illicit and intense. He’s angry when they layer low sweet refrains into the glossy, sexy song. And when Chan whisks away all of their work to put the final touches on the song, Hyunjin is at the end of his rope.
To be ignored for so long only to be pulled onto this concept, it feels like some massive joke being played on him. The rational part of his brain knows that Chan would never laugh at him, would never make something like this at Hyunjin’s expense, but the hurt, irrational part of his mind is much, much louder. It’s louder than his own logic and Felix’s care. Nothing is loud enough to keep Hyunjin from storming into Chan’s studio and demanding an answer.
It’s late when he finally boils over, but he knows that Chan will be awake. Sure enough, when he shoves through the door without knocking or texting first, Chan is there, hunched over his laptop. At first glance, Hyunjin almost crumbles. Chan has his headphones on, hair pushed back from his forehead. He’s wearing a loose pair of sweatpants and a shirt with the sleeves cut off.
The door swings shut behind Hyunjin and Chan starts, looking over his shoulder at Hyunjin. He smiles, of course he smiles, and pulls off his headphones. “Hey what’s—”
“Stop fucking stringing me along.” The words burst out of him and Hyunjin fists his hands hard at his sides. Chan stares at him blankly and Hyunjin squeezes his fists tighter, nails digging into the meat of his palms to center him and force him forward. The anger feels so good, so vindicating, that once the first words are out of Hyunjin’s mouth he can’t reel anything back. “You can’t just pretend like everything is… normal, or like that didn’t happen!” Hyunjin is talking around it, he can’t help it. The thought of him saying it outright and Chan hardly even remembering paralyzes him.
“I wish you would have told me it bothered you earlier,” Chan says, his voice low and almost hurt. Hyunjin grabs desperately for his anger, holding onto it even when he hears that tremor in Chan’s voice.
“It’s not about the song!” he shouts. Chan flinches back from him slightly, and again, that dark, mean part of Hyunjin is vindicated in the worst way. “Stop pretending like it's about the song,” he says, softer this time.
Chan looks away from him, the muscle in his jaw jumping. He shakes his head.
Hyunjin scoffs. “Fine. You want me to spell it out for you? It’s about you stringing me along, making me—do all of this in front of you, when you obviously know how I feel.” His voice cracks in the midst of his rant and he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, scared for one horrifying moment that he might cry.
Chan is staring at him, eyes wide and mouth parted. Hyunjin shakes his head and reaches up to scrub at his eyes. “Nevermind, it’s—”
Chan shoots up out of his chair and closes some of the distance between them.“I wanted you to do it because I love seeing you like that!” he exclaims. Hyunjin blinks, unable to find anything to say. Chan barrels onward. “I’m not stringing you along—I’m being selfish.” He sighs and Hyunjin tries to cut in but Chan doesn’t let him. “I love seeing you confident, you’re electric and addictive and Red Lights was just too much for me,” he murmurs. Hyunjin finds himself leaning in, trying to catch his low words. “It took all of myself to deny you. Because it was the right thing to do,” he says, his words strengthening.
Hyunjin shakes his head. He takes another half step forward, until their chests are nearly touching. His heart thumps in his ears, mind racing with Chan’s sudden confession. It almost feels too good to be true and Hyunjin needs to push, he needs to know that Chan means it. “Stop doing the right thing,” Hyunjin whispers. They’re nose to nose now, breaths mingling in the scant space between them. “And start doing what you want.”
He’s hardly gotten the words out before Chan is kissing him, all teeth and tongue and intensity. Blood rushes in Hyunjin’s ears, shock and want keeping him stock still for a moment. Chan starts to pull away, half a question on his tongue, but Hyunjin surges back against him. He catches Chan’s shoulders and kisses him back, licking at his bottom lip until Chan opens his mouth for him. Big, hot hands cup Hyunjin’s face, steadying the wild rush of his emotions, but Chan doesn’t go easy on him.
He slides one of his hands up into Hyunjin’s hair, pulling on the honey blond locks until he’s whimpering and fighting to keep their mouths together. Chan is grinning into their kiss, devilish and delighted as he cinches his arm around Hyunjin’s waist. Their hips collide and Hyunjin whimpers. He’s already coming apart at the seams for Chan, jumping like a live wire beneath his touch.
He doesn’t have time to be embarrassed about how painfully hard he is when Chan isn’t faring much better. His hand dips low over the slope of Hyunjin’s spine, fingers settling teasingly over the curve of his ass. Hyunjin shoves back into his touch, gasping into his mouth when Chan tugs him right back into the press of his hips. He grinds hard against Hyunjin then, teasing him with the thick line of his cock through his sweatpants. Hyunjin is flayed by want, bare beneath Chan’s touch and attention, hoping this isn’t some joke or dream.
Chan pulls hard on his hair to break their kiss. Hyunjin follows the pull of his fingers, scalp burning sweetly as he looks at Chan through half lidded eyes. He looks gorgeous like this, with his swollen mouth and flushed cheeks, the want running wild in his gaze. “Hyung…” Hyunjin murmurs, grinding sloppily into the press of Chan’s cock.
Still, he hesitates, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as he stares at Hyunjin. Something threatens to break inside of him then, something delicate and vulnerable that he would usually guard zealously. But before the first hairline crack can appear, Chan says, “You want me to do what I want?”
Hyunjin almost falls to his knees right there, weakened by the rough rasp of Chan’s voice. Instead, he grips tighter to his shoulders and nods, a half swallowed whimper escaping him. A new fire lights in Chan’s eyes as he drags Hyunjin down into another bruising kiss.
Chan’s hand falls from his hair to grab him by the hips instead. He shoves Hyunjin toward his desk, catching him just before he trips over the surface of it. They share these quick, hot kisses, where Chan keeps pulling away only to lean in and taste him again. “I just can’t believe you’re real,” he finally murmurs, staring hard at Hyunjin before taking his mouth again.
Hyunjin shivers, grabbing Chan’s face with both hands and spreading his legs to bring him even closer. “God, I love kissing you,” he whispers. Chan blinks at him, somehow still shocked at the depth of want that Hyunjin has for him. The look is gone a moment later, drowned by a hunger that has him turning Hyunjin and bending him over his desk. He splays out over the surface, hand catching Chan’s laptop before he groans and shoves it away. Chan only hums and kicks his legs wider apart. “Shit,” Hyunjin mumbles, belly clenching hot at Chan’s casual command of his body.
“Yeah,” Chan moans, grabbing Hyunjin’s ass as he leans over him. He gropes Hyunjin unabashedly through his pants, nails dragging bluntly over the backs of his thighs, thumbs dragging between his cheeks until he’s squirming and whimpering. “Keep making those noises,” Chan whispers, as he finally hooks his fingers into the top of Hyunjin’s pants.
Hyunjin doesn’t even have to try. Chan wrings the low, warbling noises out of him without even trying. He gasps when Chan tugs his pants and briefs down in one go, moans when he gropes Hyunjin again—this time without anything in the way. He looks over his shoulder as Chan leans away, watching as he rifles through one of his desk drawers.
Hyunjin wiggles his ass just to make his search a bit harder, and is rewarded with a new blush across Chan’s cheeks and a mean little pinch to his ass. The spot of pain only makes him harder, cock dripping and smearing onto the insides of his thighs as Chan makes a triumphant noise and brandishes a bottle of lube. “You keep lube in your studio?” Hyunjin can’t help but giggle.
Chan rolls his eyes. “Would you rather us be making do with spit?” To Hyunjin’s horror, the idea doesn’t sound all that bad. His eyes flutter shut and goosebumps break out across the backs of his thighs. Chan hums, low and considering, and again, Hyunjin feels completely bare for his appraisal. “Maybe next time, sweetheart.”
Hyunjin’s breath catches in his throat, but when he opens his eyes, Chan doesn’t seem to realize what he’s just said. Hyunjin pushes any thoughts of a next time, any desire to be called sweetheart again, far down and says, “Take your shirt off.” Chan pauses where he was about to pour lube over three of his fingers to look at Hyunjin. He can feel the wicked flush starting to burn at the back of his neck and the tips of his ears, but he refuses to back down. “Wanna see you,” he whispers.
Chan nods, closes the bottle of lube, and sets it on the curve of Hyunjin’s back. He stays perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe as he watches Chan pull his shirt over his head. For all the times he’s seen him shirtless—half of them on stage—nothing can quite prepare him for how strong Chan really is. His muscles ripple beneath his warm skin as he steps forward again, sweatpants hanging low on his waist to show the cut of his hips and the dark hair trailing from his navel down beneath his waistband.
Belatedly, Hyunjin realizes he’s panting and closes his mouth.
Chan opens the lube again, and this time, Hyunjin doesn’t stop him. He spreads his legs a little wider, anticipation building hot beneath his skin as Chan warms the lube between his fingers. Finally, he spreads Hyunjin open and drags his fingers over his hole. The slick slide of them makes Hyunjin whimper, his want sharpening like a knife as Chan steps closer to him. Hyunjin can feel the well worn fabric of his sweats on the backs of his thighs and that more than anything makes him want to come apart.
Chan slowly works a finger inside of him, never rushing. Hyunjin moans all the while, clenching hard around the small intrusion and wondering how he’ll ever be able to fit that cock he felt earlier. Chan doesn’t let him focus on that for long. He fucks Hyunjin open perfectly, spreading him around two and then three fingers, always adding the next when there’s the perfect amount of drag. He curves his fingers into Hyunjin’s prostate, making waves of pleasure crash over him, working long moans and desperate curses out of him until his voice is raw.
“I can’t wait to have you around my cock,” he murmurs, fucking Hyunjin hard with his three fingers. He forces Hyunjin forward against the desk and he dazedly wonders if he’ll have bruises in the morning. He hopes so. “Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted you?”
“Fuck!” Hyunjin shouts, voice breaking. He tries to push back onto Chan’s hand, gasping and moaning, cock jerking against the edge of the desk.
“Yeah, sweetheart,” Chan groans. He leans over Hyunjin, sliding a hand up under his shirt to feel his smooth skin. Hyunjin trembles under the touch, clenching hard around Chan’s fingers to silently beg for his cock. “You were always showing off for me, weren’t you?”
Hyunjin has never heard his voice like this, dark and taunting and intense. “Yes, yes,” he gasps.
“Trying to get me to break and fuck you like you so desperately need?”
Hyunjin can only moan at that, tears burning at his eyes as his orgasm wells up in his belly. Chan pulls his fingers out of him and Hyunjin whimpers, for a terrible moment thinking he’s done something wrong. Chan is there to soothe him, laying a kiss at the center of his back as he returns to press the head of his cock to Hyunjin’s hole. “Yes, oh—fuck, hyung, please!” Hyunjin cries out, hot tears finally spilling down his cheeks.
“Oh, baby,” Chan whispers. His voice is hoarse and low. “I’ll give you what you need.” He thrusts forward then, spreading Hyunjin open around half of his thick cock in a single movement. Hyunjin screams through the pleasure, his whole body trembling as more tears fall. He knows he must look an awful mess, but Chan only coos at him, holding tight to his hips as he thrusts again, and fills Hyunjin with the rest of his cock.
He groans and Hyunjin claws at the desk, panting and squirming as he desperately tries to adjust to Chan’s length. His hands shift from Hyunjin’s waist to his ass, spreading him open to see where he’s clenching around the base of his cock. “Pretty,” he mumbles, and Hyunjin whimpers. Chan spares him another few moments to adjust, before his grip tightens. “Let me hear you, baby,” he says and then drags his cock out of Hyunjin. His hips snap forward, establishing a rough, deep rhythm that has Hyunjin’s eyes rolling back.
“Chan-hyung, oh—feels so good, thank you—ah!” he cries out, dissolving quickly into warbling whines.
Behind him, Chan laughs. “Who knew you’d be so polite while you spread your legs?” He grabs Hyunjin around the waist, dragging him back into his thrusts until the sound of skin on skin fills the tiny room. “Storming into my studio, causing a fight, all because you need to get fucked? Not very nice, Jinnie,” he goads.
“‘M sor-sorryy!” Hyunjin howls, sobbing as Chan’s cock grinds against his prostate. Chan laughs at him, but it only ruins Hyunjin more. His skin tingles, his belly tightens, while his cock weeps between his legs. If this is what Chan has wanted to do all this time, Hyunjin will have to be mad at him later. For now, he pushes back into the rough thrusts of his cock and chants his name.
“From now on, you’ll ask nicely,” Chan demands. He’s breathless now and Hyunjin is glad he isn’t the only one coming apart so quickly.
A hand spreads him as Chan’s rhythm slows. He drags his cock out in a long, luxurious movement that makes Hyunjin’s toes curl. He manages to open his tear glazed eyes just long enough to see Chan purse his lips and then spit onto his hole. Chan fucks it back inside him, lifting his head to give Hyunjin a wicked smirk. “You’ll ask nicely to get treated like a whore,” he says and Hyunjin nods, enthralled with Chan’s easy dominance.
His next thrust is hard and Hyunjin wails again, belly hot and clenching as Chan grits his teeth and starts pounding into him. Even without a hand on his cock, Hyunjin can feel his orgasm rising, tightening around the base of his spine and just waiting to snap. “Oh—I can’t, ah, I’m gonna come soon,” he manages to say, knees knocking together as Chan aims a particularly hard thrust for his prostate.
“Good,” Chan huffs, “me too.” A prickly sort of warmth fills Hyunjin at that, making him grin into the crook of his elbow.
But then, Chan is reaching over him and sliding his hand around his throat. He yanks Hyunjin up off the desk, forcing him to arch his back until his head is lolling into his shoulder. His hand is hot and heavy, just shy of squeezing. The memory jolts through him, overlaying this moment, and Hyunjin realizes that Chan never forgot that shoot, that he was only ever denying himself. Hyunjin tilts his head back and gasps, the fuse of his desire burning down and down—
“Do it,” he whispers.
Chan doesn’t hesitate. He squeezes both sides of Hyunjin’s throat, only subtly restricting his air while the headrush hits him. His cock flexes and bobs against his belly, pleasure building and building as Chan fucks him hard. Spots crawl across his vision and he takes short, gasping breaths of air. Just when his vision starts to tunnel, Chan loosens his hold. Hyunjin comes with a scream, unraveling in Chan’s arms as the endorphin rush takes him. His cock jerks and spurts over his belly, streaking up his chest and staining his shirt.
Chan keeps fucking him. He thrusts into him through oversensitivity, until Hyunjin is limp and gasping. Then, he groans long and low, grinding deep into Hyunjin and spilling inside of him.
The rest of the night is mostly a blur. He remembers swapping kisses and sweet nothings, wearing one of Chan’s shirts back to the dorms, showering together and climbing into the same bunk to sleep. In the morning, Chan doesn’t shy away from him, even when their members are around, and Hyunjin realizes he finally got through that thick skull of his.
~
And weeks later, when he finally hears the final version of Taste, and catches one of his own moans layered deep down into the track, he glares at Chan, but can’t actually find it in himself to be upset. It’s Chan’s own little claim on him, and how could he ever be angry about that?