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As long as he’s known him, Jeff’s never witnessed Barcode under the influence of any vice.
Sure, his boyfriend got a little hyper sometimes after having too much coconut water, but that was more attributed to his naturally energetic personality than anything else. Even when Ta had made several attempts to sneak him a sip of beer during their concert days, Barcode never expressed any serious interest beyond provoking Jeff’s protective instincts with the possibility.
It was inevitable though, that much he knew. That one day, despite Jeff’s best efforts, Barcode would experience a real taste of alcohol for the first time, a seemingly unavoidable rite of passage for a young man of his generation.
It happens on a Friday night.
Barcode usually insists on coordinating their calls out of respect for their busy schedules, so Jeff’s expecting a phone call from Korea anytime now. While he waits, he alternates between tuning his old guitars and tidying up his closet, the mindless tasks allowing him to unwind from a tiring day of brand meetings.
But by midnight, Jeff’s left feeling disappointed. His phone doesn't light up once throughout the evening, even after the extra half hour he spends blow-drying his hair in the bathroom.
It’s unlikely, but maybe Barcode just forgot, or perhaps something came up last minute and filming ran late. Jeff dials his number anyway and presses the phone to his ear. He paces back and forth in his room, hoping it’s not an emergency.
His phone rings four times before Barcode picks up.
“Code?”
“P’Jeff…?” Barcode sounds a little out of sorts, like he’d been interrupted somehow.
“Hey,” Jeff rushes out as he takes a seat on to his bed, immediately on guard.
“Sorry, I, uhm…,” Barcode fumbles over his words, and his distress puts Jeff on edge. “I know I was supposed to call you but I got a bit… distracted. I’m good.”
Jeff is unconvinced, and the shuffling he hears in the background doesn’t help his growing suspicion. “Are you sure?”
“I’m fine, I swear, I just…,” Barcode trails off briefly before pivoting direction. “I, uh, I have a confession. Promise you won’t be mad?”
“I promise.” Jeff blinks in confusion. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m a little drunk,” Barcode bursts out finally.
“What-“
Jeff scrambles to get the next word in, but Barcode beats him to the punch.
“The guys and I ended up at a bar in Hongdae after filming. We split a few bottles of soju.”
“Hold on-“
“Plus the legal age here is only nineteen,” Barcode interjects, as if anticipating a lecture from Jeff on unlawful behavior. "And honestly, it was so fruity I could barely taste the alcohol.”
“Last I checked you’re still eighteen, baby.”
“Aow! Don’t be such a spoilsport,” Barcode complains with a pout. “They didn’t card us and my birthday’s literally in a few weeks. I rounded up.”
“I’m not sure that’s how it works,” Jeff arches an eyebrow up, more amused than anything. “How much did you drink?”
“Not enough,” Barcode replies cheekily. “Ace and Alpha are tanks, by the way. They’d give P’Job a run for his money.”
“Dodging my question?” Jeff teases lightly.
“I had four shots before I realized I couldn’t keep up,” Barcode admits in a timid voice. “And then I lost track of time.”
“My poor baby.” Jeff’s playful interrogation softens into genuine concern, the distance between them suddenly very palpable. “Hang in there.”
“Consider it practice for Chula.” Barcode pauses with an adorable hiccup. “I just wanted to let loose and have a little fun. Don’t judge me, okay?"
“I’m not judging you. I’m happy you had a good time with our friends,” Jeff reassures him gently as he shifts further onto the mattress, relaxing back against the headboard. “Was I interrupting something earlier?”
“No. Well, kind of. I was already back in my hotel room when you called,” Barcode says vaguely. “I’m in bed now.”
“Probably a good idea to sleep it off,” Jeff urges softly. “Don’t let me keep you.”
“Mm, I’m not tired yet. Just stay with me for a bit.”
“Code-”
“Hey, whatcha wearing?” Barcode asks abruptly, an innocent enough inquiry despite his drunken state.
The question still catches Jeff off guard. He pauses to glance down at his outfit, something random and unsexy he'd thrown together in the midst of doing laundry earlier.
“Uh, pajamas. And that shirt from the Keds event. You know, the one you always make fun of me for?”
“It’s not the age, it’s the attitude?” Barcode bursts into giggles. “Hot."
“Not my fault I ran out of clean clothes,” Jeff defends, stifling a smile. “Why? What are you wearing?”
“Your hoodie,” Barcode offers, with the same coyness that gets him teased while on set. “The black one you always leave behind.”
“That's because you're always stealing my stuff,” Jeff tuts back. “And never washing it.”
“Hey!” Barcode feigns offense. “I like smelling like you.”
“Are you wearing my sweatpants too?”
“Nope, just the hoodie,” Barcode offers casually, before the tone of his voice drops to a whisper so sultry it leaves Jeff wholly unprepared for what comes next.
“And nothing else.”
Jeff swallows. “What?”
“I said I’m not wearing anything else,” Barcode echoes, his words laced with heat and intention. The air around them thickens instantly, giving Jeff no chance to recover from the rapid shift in atmosphere.
Jeff recalls how alarmed Barcode had sounded when they first got on the phone.
Was he touching himself just now? In my clothes?
He scrubs a hand over his face in a panic, suddenly feeling hot all over despite the damp towel draped around his neck.
“Were you…?” Jeff doesn’t have to finish the question before Barcode catches on easily.
“It’s a secret,” Barcode taunts, but Jeff has a strong inkling from the way his boyfriend rustles against the sheets, the bed creaking ever so quietly in the background. “Maybe I was. Maybe I was missing you.”
This is getting dangerous, too dangerous. The rational part of Jeff’s brain is screaming at him to coax his boyfriend to bed, throw his phone down, and take a cold shower for the second time tonight.
But Jeff’s never been very good at ignoring Barcode.
“Show me how much you missed me,” Jeff demands boldly, because apparently he can’t help himself with Barcode egging him on like this.
There’s silence on the other line, and for a moment Jeff is paranoid that he’s somehow overstepped their boundaries, but the feeling is fleeting. His phone pings with a text notification seconds later, and he nearly drops it in haste as he opens the message with shaking hands.
The photo is dark and slightly blurry, with Barcode sprawled across the pillows wearing his hoodie and a flushed expression that’s borderline pornographic. The angle of the shot is so intentional that Jeff can’t fixate anywhere but between his legs, long slender fingers wrapped loosely around his visibly hard cock.
The image hits Jeff harder than any shot of alcohol ever would, a slow and smoky bloom that starts in the pit of his stomach and rushes south.
“Guess my secret’s out,” Barcode slurs without an ounce of shame, jolting Jeff from his trance. “Is that enough proof for you?”
“God,” Jeff rasps in dismay, dropping his head back to the wall. “You’re such a tease.”
“Gonna help me do something about it?”
“Anything.” Jeff shuts his eyes, mind reeling as he fights the wave of desire blanketing over him. “What do you want me to-”
“Tell me a secret, P’Jeff,” Barcode cuts in, sly and sweet. “I told you mine already. Your turn.”
He doesn’t know if the universe is testing him or what sort of game Barcode is playing, but Jeff knows they're veering further into uncharted territory. He blurts out the first thing he can think of.
“Your gym selfies drive me crazy.”
Jeff considers himself somewhat of an intellectual, but the mental image of Barcode’s newly chiseled biceps reduces his brain to mush. There's no immediate response, so he takes it as a signal to elaborate.
“I can't focus on anything lately,” Jeff confesses. “You're a workplace hazard."
The honest admission seems to satisfy the younger, who doesn’t skip a beat.
“Wanna know another secret?” Barcode purrs lazily, far too devious for someone so buzzed. “I get so damn horny after my workouts.”
Jeff’s hand inches toward the bulge in his pants. “Jesus.”
“Can’t sleep unless I jerk off in the shower thinking about you,” Barcode indulges him, the cherry on top. “Like last night after the gym.”
“Don’t tell me that,” Jeff groans as he sneaks lower under the waistband of his pajamas, palming at himself once just to stave off the urge. A flimsy excuse at best, with the way his dick throbs traitorously with every word that leaves Barcode’s mouth.
“Why? Are you touching yourself too, P’Jeff?”
The smugness in Barcode’s tone is so apparent, Jeff doesn’t bother dignifying him with a clear response. His boyfriend is annoyingly perceptive while tipsy, leaving him feeling exposed.
“You already know the answer,” Jeff clears his throat before curling his fingers firmly around his hardening cock, sighing in both relief and defeat.
“I knew you couldn’t resist me,” Barcode croons, and Jeff can envision his lips tilting up in victory.
“Got me all worked up, now you’re gonna take responsibility for it,” Jeff grunts out, arching his hips up at the thought of Barcode's hot and needy lips wrapped around him.
Barcode sucks in a breath, and Jeff doesn’t need to be in the same room to know that his boyfriend's hand is back on his cock. He slows his strokes in a deliberate attempt to repress the sinful thoughts coursing through his head, but it's a fruitless endeavor. He’s so turned on it hurts.
“You with me, baby?” Jeff asks as he picks up the pace, curiosity eating him alive.
“I can't stand it anymore,” Barcode whines, his confidence wavering for the first time since they hopped on the phone. “Want you here so bad-"
“Soon, sweetheart,” Jeff breathes, harsh and heavy as he pumps up and down his length. “Be patient for me."
“But I miss you,” Barcode chokes out, desperation spilling over. "Miss how good you make me feel, how deep you get, nngh-"
The dizzying way Barcode dances back and forth between sweetness and filth is enough to give Jeff whiplash. He's also willing to bet Barcode now has two fingers in his mouth by the way his voice is muffled, so Jeff's quick to seize the opening.
“Naughty boy,” Jeff grits out in an effort to regain some semblance of control, a dark thrill pulsing through his veins. “Next time I’ll give that mouth of yours something more useful to do.”
Jeff barely recognizes the words that come out of his mouth in the heat of the moment, like a forbidden switch had flipped in his brain. Nobody else had the ability to crawl under his skin and light a flame in him like this.
“Pretty please,” Barcode moans eagerly after removing his fingers with a loud pop, considerably less coherent than ten minutes ago. “I want you in my mouth, P’Jeff, down my throat-”
“Fuck,” Jeff bites out as he rocks up into his fist, pupils blown wide. “Gonna beg for me like that when I see you?”
“Maybe,” Barcode pants at the same tempo, quick and erratic. “Only if you keep going-”
“Then let me hear you,” Jeff groans, his face sticky with sweat and exertion. He feels like he's on fire. “Code-”
“P’Jeff,” Barcode quivers brokenly. Jeff hears the escalating hitch of his breath as his boyfriend strokes himself faster, wet and obscene over the receiver.
"Don't stop-"
He could ask Barcode to turn on his camera for a full show, but somehow the absence of imagery lets his imagination run even more buck wild, driving him near mad with want. He pictures himself on his knees instead, turning the younger’s perpetually charming smile into open-mouthed gasps of pleasure, taking apart that innocent facade one layer at a time.
“Wish I was there,” Jeff drops his voice an octave just the way Barcode likes it, not wanting to break the spell they’re both under. “Drop to my knees as soon as I make it to your hotel room. Get my lips around you and show you how it’s done.”
Barcode releases a loud keen, the noise stifled by his pillow or maybe his shoulder. It’s illegal how erotic he sounds, like all of Jeff's wildest fantasies brought to life.
“Spread your legs after, stretch you nice and slow on my fingers until you’re begging me for mercy,” Jeff growls out roughly, his mouth growing filthier by the second. “Watch your gorgeous face as you come-"
“Oh god,” Barcode whimpers as he suppresses a shiver, the intensity of Jeff's servitude overwhelming him. "I'm close-"
“Tell me how close,” Jeff orders, the roaring heat coiling in his gut and threatening to engulf him whole.
“So close, so fucking close-,” Barcode pleads helplessly, the faint slick sound of his hand on his cock speeding up. “Please-”
“Fuck, just like that,” Jeff praises as he strokes himself to the rhythm of Barcode’s delicious little sounds, chasing his high with reckless abandon. "Wait for me, baby-"
“Jeff-,” Barcode sounds delirious, rendered near speechless amidst all the competing stimulation. “Jeff, I can't-”
“The next time you come,” Jeff hisses as he throws his head back, his body betraying him as his own climax starts to bubble dangerously to the surface. “It’ll be on my cock-”
Barcode cuts him off with a sharp wail, and the image of his beautiful face going slack with pleasure is what sends Jeff tumbling over the edge with him.
Everything else tonight may have been an act of bravado, but this was not. This was Barcode letting go and giving in, sobbing out Jeff’s name in ecstasy like it was the only word he could remember in his drunken stupor.
Jeff commits the moment to memory, chest swelling in adoration. The physical space between them is large, but in that second, it feels as though they’re pressed tightly together. He can hear Barcode’s breath slowly evening out, the steady rise and fall of his heartbeat.
”Wow,” Barcode exhales eventually. “I’m a mess.”
“Me too.” Jeff peers down and inspects his chest and stomach, reaching up to nab the towel conveniently resting around his neck. He's going to have to do more laundry. “I think you gave me a heart attack.”
“That was so hot,” Barcode mumbles into his pillow, the weight of exhaustion finally catching up to him. “Gonna sleep so good tonight.”
Jeff smiles tenderly into his phone. “Promise you’ll call me when you wake up?”
“I promise.” Barcode yawns, clearly already on the edge of sleep with the way his voice tapers off. “Don’t hang up yet.”
“I’m here,” Jeff whispers low and slow, like a music box winding down.
He stays on until he hears the surefire sound of Barcode snoring across the line.
–
Jeff almost misses the call with the way his phone ends up tangled between the sheets by morning, but he pats around and manages to pick up before it hits voicemail.
“Hello?”
“P’Jeff,” Barcode starts meekly. “Did I…?”
“I’m afraid so,” Jeff confirms with sympathy as he sits up, running a hand through his hair. "How are you feeling?"
“Ugh,” Barcode laments with a groan, his self-awareness having returned overnight with startling clarity. “I’m never drinking again.”
“Somehow I’m not sure I believe you,” Jeff chuckles before lowering his voice to a hushed tone. "Do you remember anything from last night?"
“C’mon, I’m not that much of a lightweight," Barcode grumbles out. "I can’t believe I sent you that photo. You're not allowed to tease me.”
“I would never,” Jeff insists with sincerity. “This old man is still recovering. I need at least two business days."
Barcode breaks into a laugh. “Good. Then it was worth the hangover.”
“Drink some water, teerak.”
“I will, I will, just let me change out of my-”
“Finally gonna have to wash my hoodie, huh?”
“P’Jeff!”