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Hyunjin doesn't expect anyone to be home when he gets there, but he can hear murmured voices as soon as he steps through the front door. He takes off his shoes and walks barefoot into the living room where Chan and Minho are sitting on the couch. There are papers spread out on the coffee table, and they're bent over them like they're discussing something. They both look up at Hyunjin when he enters. “You're home?” he asks.
“Technically, we're working,” Chan says. “I forgot some of the documents, though, so we had to come back here. Figured it would be easier to just stay.” He reaches an arm out for Hyunjin, who readily approaches, one knee braced on the couch so he's at a more comfortable height to kiss Chan. They keep it short, sweet. Just a simple kiss hello. Chan presses his face into Hyunjin's neck and inhales deeply, and Hyunjin giggles at the tickly feeling. “Mhm. You smell like grass.”
“I was at the park with Felix,” Hyunjin explains. “They were mowing.” He takes off the sunglasses perched on top of his head and runs a hand through his hair. Then he glances over at Minho. Something about the way Minho is watching them interact makes heat rise to Hyunjin's cheeks. He smiles softly, a bit shy. “Hi, Minho-hyung.”
Minho smiles, too. “Hey, Hyunjinnie.” It's been a couple of weeks since they last saw each other, but Minho has certainly been on Hyunjin's mind a lot in the meantime. “Maybe you can talk some sense into your boyfriend and convince him it would be so much easier to have everything in a digital version instead of physical copies.”
Chan makes a noise of frustrated dissent, like they have had this debate multiple times before. “I just like having a piece of paper in my hand instead of staring at a screen all the time.”
“Okay, boomer,” Hyunjin teases. He squeals and squirms when Chan tickles him, quickly moving out of his reach. He pouts severely. Chan soothes a hand down his side in apology.
“Is it okay if we work here, or do you want us to move to the office?”
Hyunjin shakes his head. “No, it's fine, don't mind me. Pretend I'm not even here.” They go back to their hushed conversation, and Hyunjin goes to the kitchen, takes a bottle of water from the fridge, drinks it down in long gulps to cool himself off. The weather has been scorching lately. He grabs a coconut popsicle from the freezer and returns to the living room. Chan and Minho are still talking quietly, something about new lighting fixtures for their art gallery and the budget for it. Hyunjin takes a seat on the bench in the window nook. It's one of his favorite places in their apartment. He loves the view, and he could spend hours sitting in front of this giant window with his sketchbook.
Right now, he sits here eating his popsicle. He watches the people running around like tiny ants many stories below him. Looks at the green of parks dotted about the city. In the distance, the river slithers through the landscape like a big snake, glittering in the sunlight. His popsicle is melting fast in the heat. His tongue darts out to catch a milky-white drop before it can trickle further down his hand, and he lets out a small, surprised noise as it starts dripping on his fingers, too. He pops them into his mouth, sucking sticky coconut flavor off his fingertips.
Belatedly, he notices that the room has gone quiet. There's no more talking. He looks up to find both Chan and Minho staring at him. Minho's jaw is dropped open, Chan is clenching his teeth. Hyunjin still has his own fingers in his mouth, and he just now realizes what kind of image he must be presenting. He quickly pulls his fingers out. “Baby,” Chan groans. His voice sounds strained. Hyunjin feels dizzy. Chan's hands are curled into fists. Minho shifts in his seat.
Hyunjin giggles nervously. “Sorry, am I being distracting? I'll leave.” He gets off the bench quickly and retreats to his art studio, shutting the door quietly behind himself. The conversation in the living room picks up again, muffled through the walls, and Hyunjin lets out a sigh of relief. He eats the rest of his popsicle as mess-free as possible and tries not to think about the way they had both looked like they wanted to ruin him.
“Did you do that on purpose?” Hyunjin spins around to look at Chan, who's standing in the doorway to his studio with his arms crossed. “With the popsicle. Was that on purpose?” Hyunjin can't quite figure out Chan's tone. Is he just asking out of curiosity, or is he mad?
Either way, it sets Hyunjin on edge. He puts down his paintbrush. “No,” he says, slowly. “I just wanted to eat something cold.” It's the truth. He just wanted to cool down, and he hadn't considered until he found Chan and Minho both staring at him that it could be construed as anything other than that. He understands now, though, what he must have looked like. He also understands how it could look like it was deliberate.
Chan laughs, humorless. “But you know how good you look with something in your mouth.” Hyunjin can interpret Chan's tone now. It makes Hyunjin's skin feel a little too tight, his breathing heavy. He gulps. “Were you trying to show off in front of Minho?” Hyunjin can't help the way his eyes flicker to somewhere behind Chan, as if he'd be able to see the rest of the apartment when Chan is blocking the doorway with his body. “He went home. What, are you disappointed?”
“No,” Hyunjin says, looking at the tarp-covered floor. He kind of is, but he doesn't feel like he can tell Chan that.
In just a few steps, Chan has crossed the distance between them. He puts a hand under Hyunjin's chin and makes him lift his head so he can meet his gaze. His eyes flit back and forth between Hyunjin's, searching. “Are you disappointed?” Chan asks once more. Hyunjin doesn't know which answer will get him into the least amount of trouble. If he says no again, he's lying to Chan, and Chan can usually tell when he's lying. If he says yes, he doesn't know what will happen, and that uncertainty is probably scarier than anything else.
“Yes,” Hyunjin admits, opting for the truth, but then, to cover himself, he adds with a sigh: “He could've at least stayed to watch me suck you off.”
Chan looks like he was about to say something else, but when Hyunjin's words register, he stops himself, and his eyes darken as he inhales sharply. “On your knees, hands behind your back,” he growls, and Hyunjin does as he's told without hesitation. Chan unbuckles his belt and yanks it out of the belt loops to toss it on the floor. He undoes his pants as well and shoves both them and his underwear down to mid-thigh. He's not fully hard, but with a few strokes of his own hand, his dick fills out. He taps the head of it against Hyunjin's bottom lip. “Open.” Hyunjin obeys, and Chan feeds his cock into Hyunjin's mouth, moaning at the wet slide of Hyunjin's tongue. Chan curls his fingers into Hyunjin's hair, grip nearly on the verge of painful as he rolls his hips. Hyunjin gags a little on the length, but manages to relax his throat to let Chan push in further. Chan hisses. “Fuck, baby. You really do look good with your mouth full. I should take pictures and send to Minho so he can see what he's missing out on.” The idea makes Hyunjin moan around Chan's cock. Chan raises his eyebrows. “You'd like that, huh?” His tone is derisive. He pulls out so Hyunjin can reply.
“Do it,” Hyunjin says. It comes out more demanding than he intended, but Chan doesn't reprimand him for it.
Instead, Chan's eyes only go darker, if that's even possible. “Give me my phone, it's in one of my pockets.” Hyunjin fumbles with Chan's pants until he can get Chan's phone out and hand it to him. Hyunjin puts his arms behind his back again right away, because he was given an order and still hasn't been told to do otherwise.
When Chan pushes his cock into Hyunjin's pliant mouth again, it's with the phone pointed straight at him. Hyunjin puts on a show for the camera, makes his lips extra pouty, hollows his cheeks, looks up at the lens through his eyelashes. He can hear the sound of the shutter going off each time Chan takes a picture, click after click after click as Chan fucks his mouth. And when Chan comes, Hyunjin doesn't swallow. He lets his tongue loll out to make sure to show the camera, even lets it dribble down his chin a little, and Chan keeps clicking away.
Chan drops to his knees as well and presses himself against Hyunjin as close as he can possibly get. His motions almost seem a little desperate as he shoves his hand into Hyunjin's shorts to jerk him off quickly. Hyunjin gasps. He still has his hands behind him, so he nearly topples over with how he arches his back at the almost too-rough touch, but Chan wraps an arm around his waist to simultaneously support him and keep him from moving. “Was I good?” Hyunjin asks, pleading for praise. “Did I do well?”
“You were amazing, baby,” Chan whispers against his lips. “Looked so fucking perfect, so fucking sexy for me.” He licks into Hyunjin's mouth, lets their tongues twirl and tangle. He can probably taste himself. “And for Minho.” Hyunjin moans when he comes, long and loud. Chan keeps stroking Hyunjin until he's squirming, whimpering. Then he stops. He still has his hand in Hyunjin's pants when he says: “I'm not actually going to send those pictures to Minho.”
Hyunjin wets his lips. “You should send them,” he decides.
“Yeah?” Chan presses their foreheads together. His smile has a wicked curl. “He's going to lose his fucking mind.”
They sit together on the floor of the art studio, Hyunjin leaning on Chan as they look through the pictures in Chan's camera roll to decide which to send. Hyunjin goes a bit red in the cheeks, watching himself on the screen. He looks depraved, debauched, a perfect fucking whore sucking Chan's cock like he was made for nothing else in this world. They choose about a dozen or so snapshots, and Chan drops them into the chat he shares with Minho.
The response comes almost immediately. fck i'm on the fukcin train, Minho texts back, and Hyunjin turns his head to giggle into Chan's shoulder. Chan chuckles as well. He kisses the top of Hyunjin's head.
“Ah, I'm all gross,” Hyunjin says, wrinkling his nose at the feeling in his underwear. “I'm gonna go take a shower.” He motions to get up, but Chan grabs his arm to stop him. Chan studies him, pensive, looking like he wants to say something. “Hm? What, hyung?”
Chan shakes his head, then pastes on a smile. “Do you want me to order something for dinner in the meantime?” Somehow, it doesn't seem like that's what he really wanted to say. Hyunjin doesn't know why it feels that way, it just does. There has been this strange tension between them lately that he's trying his hardest to ignore.
So, Hyunjin smiles, too, and kisses Chan. “Sure. Sounds good.”
They eat pizza on the couch. Pizza because Chan said he had a craving, on the couch because Hyunjin still has trouble sitting at the dining table in the kitchen without thinking about the time he got fucked on it. Maybe they're going to have to get a whole new table at this rate. While they're eating, Chan receives a message. He doesn't open it until after they're done, but when he does, he nearly chokes. “Holy fuck.”
“What?” Hyunjin asks. Chan doesn't answer, just stares down at his phone with his mouth agape. Hyunjin scoots closer to look down at Chan's screen, too, only for him to nearly choke as well. The message is from Minho and contains a closeup video of him touching himself. He's still wearing pants, and the lighting is kind of bad, but it's still easy to tell from the way his hand moves under the fabric and the soft moans he lets out. Chan had said Minho was going to lose his mind, but Hyunjin feels like he's the one losing it a little bit. “Oh my God.”
The video cuts off. Chan looks at Hyunjin. Hyunjin knocks the phone out of Chan's hand and crawls into his lap to kiss him. It's heated and raunchy and desperate. Hyunjin grinds down against Chan, and Chan pants into his mouth. Chan's hands run up Hyunjin's back, under his oversized shirt, skin on skin. Hyunjin pulls the shirt over his head and off to get it out of the way, to reveal more space for Chan to touch and put his mouth on. Chan rewards him by sucking a mark right below his collarbone, and Hyunjin moans, gripping Chan's hair tightly. In a flash, he's so turned on, he feels like he could come just like this.
He doesn't want to, though, and Chan doesn't seem to want that either, because he pulls away from Hyunjin. His lips are red and puffy. He looks at Hyunjin like he wants to break him. “Let's take this to the bedroom,” he says, voice a gravelly rumble.
By the time Hyunjin sprawls out on their bed, he has already shed the clothes he just put on. Chan isn't far behind. He takes the lube from their nightstand and lathers his fingers liberally, and then pushes the first one into Hyunjin. Even though everything feels so urgent, Chan takes his time working Hyunjin open. He clearly doesn't want to hurt him. Hyunjin appreciates that, but at the same time he feels like he's about to explode with how much he wants Chan to just fuck him already. “Please, please, please,” Hyunjin begs. Chan has four fingers in him and is biting hickeys into the insides of Hyunjin's thighs. The way he looks up at Hyunjin makes Hyunjin writhe and whine. “Hyung, please.”
When Chan pulls out, Hyunjin is torn between whimpering at the loss and being relieved. The latter wins over when Chan positions himself between Hyunjin's legs. Hyunjin spreads them wider, giving Chan more room to fit, and his eyes roll back when Chan finally slots into place. Chan fucks him with the same intense, rough energy Hyunjin has felt so far. The pace Chan sets is hard and fast, and Hyunjin can do nothing but cling to him, nails clawing lines down his strong back. He's babbling. He's begging. His words are decidedly incoherent, but he can do nothing to stop himself. He curls a hand around his own neglected cock, and when Chan leans down to take one of Hyunjin's earlobes between his teeth, Hyunjin tips over the edge. He spills onto his own stomach and chest, working himself through it with sharp jerks. Chan groans. “Where do you want me to come, baby?” he whispers into Hyunjin's ear.
Hyunjin wraps his legs around Chan to keep him in place. “Come inside me,” he pleads. It punches a groan out of Chan, and Hyunjin smiles to himself. He knows all of Chan's weaknesses by now. With limited movement, all Chan can do is grind into Hyunjin until he comes. He collapses on top of Hyunjin as soon as his cock stops pulsing. Hyunjin feels sticky with sweat and cum, and he pulls a face. “Ugh. Now I need another shower.”
Chan chuckles where his face is burrowed into Hyunjin's neck. “I'll join you.”
They shower together. Chan kisses Hyunjin deeply under the spray of water, and Hyunjin has to admit he gets a little worked up again. He doesn't act on it, though, content to just feel Chan's body pressed against his own. He's so in love with this man.
Afterwards, they return to the living room to clean up after their dinner. Chan's phone still sits abandoned on the couch, and when he picks it up, there's another message from Minho. “What does it say?” Hyunjin asks, apprehensive and vaguely excited. After the last text Chan received, there's no way to anticipate what Minho would possibly send them.
“He says he wants us to come over for dinner tomorrow,” Chan says.
Hyunjin's mouth falls open. “Oh.” Immediately, his mind begins to race with the possibilities. The timing for the invitation is odd. He's so busy thinking about what it could mean that it takes a while for him to notice Chan's expression, but when he does pick up on it, his blood runs cold. Chan does not look happy. He looks troubled. “What's wrong, hyung?” Hyunjin asks, even though he's almost afraid to hear the answer.
It takes a few false starts, Chan parting his lips to speak, then reconsidering, then trying again. Finally, he manages to say: “I think we need to talk.” There it is. It's what Hyunjin has been dreading. Suddenly, he has to sit down on the couch, feeling like his legs won't carry him anymore. Chan sits down as well. The amount of distance between them feels vast, but Hyunjin doesn't dare attempt to close it. “Look at me,” Chan requests. Hyunjin lifts his head, unable to do anything but obey, even now. Chan's eyebrows furrow. “Baby, why are you crying?”
“I don't know,” Hyunjin whispers. He wipes at his own eyes. That's a lie. He does know why he's crying, he just isn't ready to admit it, neither to himself nor to Chan. He doesn't even know if he could ever admit it. “Sorry. I love you.”
Chan's expression softens, although he still looks closed off. Like there's a shutter behind his eyes, preventing Hyunjin from finding out what he's thinking, which is frustrating and terrifying. This isn't like him. “I love you too.” Chan moves closer so he can pull Hyunjin into a hug. Hyunjin presses his wet face into Chan's shoulder and tries to breathe. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? I'll always listen to you, baby.” It almost makes Hyunjin cry even harder. This is something he can't talk to Chan about.
Still, Hyunjin says: “I know.”
They hold each other until Hyunjin stops trembling. Chan pulls back, swipes both of his thumbs across Hyunjin's cheeks, keeps his hands cupping his face. The way he's looking at Hyunjin makes it seem like he's able to see straight into Hyunjin's mind. “I'm going to ask you something,” Chan says slowly. “I'm only going to ask this one time, and then I'm never going to mention it again. It's up to you what you want to tell me. Just know that whatever you say, we're going to be fine.” Hyunjin nods to show he understands. His pulse is racing. Chan leans in to kiss him once, soft. Then he asks: “Do you have feelings for Minho?”
Hyunjin swears he can feel his own heart breaking into a million pieces. In that exact moment, his whole world shatters. He loves Chan. He loves Chan, and he would never do anything to hurt him, but now he has. Now Chan knows what Hyunjin has been trying to hide from him, and from himself as well. The truth that Hyunjin never wanted to admit is that he has had a crush on Minho for a very long time.
It was easier before, when he could get away with lingering stares and lighthearted flirting, but ever since that night, ever since they let Minho touch him so intimately, Hyunjin has been having an internal struggle. He wants to do it again. He wants Minho to fuck him again, but at the same time he also wants to go on dates, and he wants to hold hands, and he wants to cuddle on the couch or in bed. And every time Hyunjin, in a moment of weakness, has allowed his thoughts to roam, Chan has been there in his mind, too. Holding his other hand. Curled up against Hyunjin's left side, while Minho is on his right. Hyunjin wants both of them, and he knows he can't have that.
However, he also knows that he can't keep lying to Chan about it. He thought he had been so good at concealing it, but obviously Chan has him all figured out, and that's the most heartbreaking thing of all. Chan knows about his betrayal. It makes Hyunjin want to drop to his knees and cry and beg for forgiveness. He can't bear the thought of not having Chan in his life.
The whole time, Chan has just been watching him, quiet, patient, letting Hyunjin take his time with answering. By now, the wait has been so long the answer is probably obvious either way. Chan's expression is neutral, like he's trying his hardest not to give anything away, but Hyunjin knows him like he knows the back of his own hand. He can tell that Chan is nervous. It's subtle things, like the shallow nature of his breath, how he keeps chewing on his own bottom lip, then seems to catch himself in it and stop. His hands, still holding Hyunjin's face like he's made of glass, tremble slightly. He's definitely nervous, but he had said they're going to be fine, and Hyunjin trusts him.
“Yes,” Hyunjin finally admits. His voice is a heartbroken whimper. “I have feelings for Minho-hyung.”
The shutter lifts from Chan's eyes. “Oh, thank God.” Hyunjin can see his emotions clearly now. It's relief, first and foremost, then happiness. Chan is happy that Hyunjin likes Minho. “I thought so, but I wasn't sure if you were just into him for the sex, and I didn't want to assume, but...” Chan takes a deep, steadying breath. “I like Minho, too. Have liked him, for a while.”
Hyunjin is so surprised and elated that he laughs. Then his face crumbles, and he cries some more. He doesn't quite know what to do with himself, and Chan doesn't seem to know either, but he lifts Hyunjin into his lap and holds him in a constrictive embrace. He holds Hyunjin as weeks worth of unresolved tension and hidden emotions overwhelm him all at once. Hyunjin buries his face in the crook of Chan's neck and shoulder, breathes in his familiar scent until his heart stops feeling like it's about to burst its way out of his chest with how hard it's pounding. “I love you,” Hyunjin whispers.
At first, he doesn't think Chan has heard him, but then Chan's grip tightens a bit. “I love you too.”
Sniffling, Hyunjin pulls back so he can look at Chan. He pouts. “I made your shirt all wet.”
“Don't worry about that, baby,” Chan says. He caresses Hyunjin's hair. “You okay?”
Hyunjin wipes at his eyes and smiles, though it's still a little wet. “It's just a lot of feelings to go through. All good, though.” He can't help but chuckle. “I can't believe we've both been suffering in silence because we were pining after Minho-hyung.”
Chan laughs, too. “He'll never let us hear the end of it when we tell him.” His dimpled smile fades into a more concerned expression, more hesitant. “We should tell him. I'm just worried about what will happen. I'm scared it's going to ruin a lot of things.”
“Yeah.” Hyunjin's wraps his arms around Chan's neck, presses their mouths together, fluttery-soft. “But we'll figure it out.” Chan's hands squeeze Hyunjin's hips, and he smiles. They'll figure it out. They always do.