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“You there, Jisung?”
Changbin cups his ear against the mahogany wood of the door, craning his neck to hear for a response. Nothing. He knocks the door once, twice, then twists the doorknob open to find Jisung sprawled on his mattress.
He drops his gym bag to the floor, before trudging over to the double bed. A snore escapes from Jisung’s throat, his mouth wide open as he swallows air in his sleep. Drool dribbles from the corner of his lips. The blankets are halfway to the floor, kicked off of Jisung’s body in the sweltering heat of the evening.
Changbin can’t help but let out a snicker at the sight. Carefully, he perches on the edge of the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight. He gazes down at Jisung, who sleeps without a care in the world, in his oversized sweatshirt and too-short shorts.
Like a fucking cartoon, Changbin gulps.
The swell of honey-tanned skin peeks out from underneath the hem of Jisung’s shorts. The fabric is bunched-up at the curve of his butt, revealing the smooth skin of his thighs curled up in his sleep. Changbin tears his gaze away, only for him to sneak another glance at the other again.
It’s addicting, he thinks, seeing Jisung like this.
Like what? his horny, sex-addled brain thinks. Pliant? Innocent? Unmoving? The rational part of his brain is torn between slapping himself and wanting the floor to swallow him alive.
Beneath him, Jisung stirs in his sleep. He yawns, hand coming up to wipe at his drool. He turns around to face Changbin. “Hyung, that you?”
Changbin nods. A hand comes up instinctively to ruffle through Jisung’s hair, silky from his balmy hair conditioner. “Yeah. Sorry I was out late. I just got back, and I didn’t want to wake you.”
“It’s okay,” Jisung murmurs. He snuggles up closer to Changbin and drapes an arm around the other’s waist. His palm lands dangerously close to Changbin’s cock, which twitches at the movement. Fuck. “Come to bed with me, then.”
“I haven’t showered yet,” Changbin protests. He tries to slip away from Jisung’s reach. “And I smell bad from the gym. And there’s not much space on your bed-”
“-Stay for me, hyung?” Jisung asks. He blinks up at Changbin through his eyelashes, his cheeks puffy from sleep, his lips glistening in a pout. It tugs at his heartstrings, the image of Jisung pleading underneath him, hands clasped together, a glint of hope in his eyes. “Pleeeease?”
“Fine, fine,” Changbin grunts. “But don’t complain if I smell awful.”
“No, you don’t!” Jisung squeals. He pulls Changbin’s arm, beckoning him to lie down next to him. He makes a big show of leaning forward, so close their lips almost touch, and takes an excruciatingly loud whiff. “You smell so good, hyung.”
Those words, so tempting in his deep, post-sleep voice, are enough for Changbin to crack. With the last of his resolve dissolving into the heat of the summer air, he takes Jisung by the chin and presses their lips together in a firm kiss.
At the first contact alone, Jisung lets out a pathetic whimper. It only coaxes Changbin to deepen the kiss, to ruin Jisung within an inch of his life. He turns to crouch over Jisung’s body. He curls his fingers through Jisung’s hair as he kisses Jisung fervently, every fibre in his body thrumming with desire. He slips his tongue into his mouth, licking along his teeth, relishing in how loudly Jisung whines into the gap between their lips.
“Hyung,” Jisung chants. He looks up at Changbin with a dazed look in his eyes, clearly still gaining full consciousness from his sleep. He wraps his legs around Changbin’s waist and digs his heels into his hips. “Can we not, uh, go all the way tonight?” He smacks his lips together in nervousness, before dropping his voice to a whisper, “I’m all sore from last night.”
Changbin laughs, hot breath fanning over Jisung’s cheeks. “Okay, okay. What do you want then, hm?”
“Mm… Kissing is nice, I think.”
“Yeah?” Changbin hums. He lowers his head and suckles on Jisung’s neck, earning him a whine. “What else?”
“Ahh…” Jisung purses his lips. “You can get me off?”
“Okay,” Changbin nods. He bites down on skin, before lapping along the curve of the mark, already mourning over its loss underneath the concealer during their schedule tomorrow. “That’s all? Any final requests?”
“Could you…” Jisung hesitates. “Could you let me lick your armpits?”
Stunned, Changbin jerks his head, only for him to knock into Jisung’s chin. “Fuck, sorry!” he gasps. He rubs absent-mindedly on the injured skin as he mulls over the request. “Seriously, though? I told you, I was at the gym just now. I swear Hyunwoo-hyung wanted me to die on the treadmill today; I was sweating buckets.”
“That’s what I like, though,” Jisung says, wincing from the impact on his chin. Still, he lets his fingers trace along Changbin’s bicep, before circling the underside of his arm. “You sweat so much, I fucking love it, you know? Drives me crazy.”
You drive me crazy, Changbin wants to say. He swallows the words down to demolition. As much as Jisung pretends to act all innocent and cute in front of everyone else, Changbin knows what a menace he can be behind closed doors. And it’s times like these—when Jisung is nothing but a devilish man who knows exactly what he wants—that Changbin wonders how he’s even alive under his piercing gaze.
“Whatever you want, Jisung-ah,” Changbin says. He leans back on his elbows, letting Jisung clamber on top of him. The visual alone sends a tingle down to his drooling cock. “Whatever you want.”
Jisung licks at the corner of his lips. He directs Changbin’s arms up and above his head in a strong grip, before dipping his head down to the other’s chest. “That’s my perfect hyung.”
When he feels a tongue lick at his armpit, Changbin lets out a moan. He would cover his mouth with his hand, if only Jisung weren’t holding his arms hostage. He writhes helplessly beneath Jisung’s body. “Jisung-ah,” Changbin gasps. “Slow–Slow down.”
All he gets is a satisfied hum as Jisung presses his nose into his unshaved armpit, hairs tickling against his cheek. He inhales loudly, obnoxiously, humming against Changbin’s skin. “Smell so fucking good, hyung,” he mumbles. As Jisung licks at the sweat dried on his skin, he grinds his hips down against Changbin’s own. Their cocks rub harshly against each other under fabric, and Changbin wishes so desperately to reach a hand between them there. “All for me.”
“All for you,” Changbin echoes, his voice trembling with desire. He groans so loud, he knows Hyunjin or Chan might just hear them through the walls. He jerks his hips up, chasing miserably after the wire-hot pleasure of release. “All for you, Jisung-ah.”
As Jisung mouths along the curve of Changbin’s pectoral, his grip on his hands loosens. “Touch me, please, hyung,” he pleads. He peers up at Changbin, tears spilling past his doe eyes as he presses his hips even closer. “Come on, come on.”
“Patience,” is all Changbin says, even though he knows he’s just as restless as him—or even more so than him.
He shoves Jisung’s shorts down and tucks them under his buttcheeks, revealing his chubbed-up cock. It peeks out from underneath his shirt, almost like an act of being deceptively cute. He licks along the palm of his hand before reaching out to wrap around Jisung’s cock. It earns him a loud whine that has him lurching his hips up against Jisung. “Faster, hyung, faster-”
“-Okay, okay,” Changbin relents. Needy, he thinks to himself, but who is he to deny Jisung of such a request? Obediently, he tugs at Jisung’s cock, precome spilling over his fingers and down his wrists.
Jisung squeezes on Changbin’s chest with his hands, manicured fingernails digging into skin. “More, more, more,” he whines. He hangs his head low, panting hotly against Changbin’s lips. He’s like an animal, and Changbin knows he’s already fallen prey to him. “More.”
Changbin tightens his fist around Jisung’s cock, swollen with a dusty pink. He leans his head back in pleasure, in agony, staring hazily up at the other’s face. “Come all over my face, then.”
It triggers something in Jisung—surely, it must have—and a spurt of come lands right on Changbin’s lips. His tongue darts out to lick at it. With a ragged sigh, Jisung releases all along Changbin’s abdomen and chest. The lewd sight alone—half-lidded eyes, flushed cheeks, jaw slack from exhaustion—sends Changbin coming in his boxers.
He cries out with a low growl, hands squeezing on Jisung’s thighs. When he eventually comes down from his high, Jisung leans over to peck Changbin on the cheek. “Thanks, hyung.” There’s a beat of silence. “Round two in the showers?”
With a squeaky laugh, Changbin shoves Jisung so hard he almost topples right off of the bed. “Fuck off, man,” he retorts, but there’s no bite in his voice. With only adoration pooling in his stomach now, Changbin turns away from Jisung in feigned annoyance. “I’ll… I’ll get the bathtub going.”
-
For years, Changbin had carried a torch for Jisung, hidden under the pretence of being a dutiful hyung to his dongsaeng, of being nothing more than “fuck buddies”.
It started off simple enough, with Jisung playfully asking him for a kiss. He did that with everyone, didn’t he? Changbin used to watch Jisung bounce up to the other members, pursing his lips together as he launched himself at them. Some of them turned him down with a turn of their heads; others (mostly Felix) would attempt to reciprocate, only for Jisung to back down with a nervous laugh.
Changbin was no different—until he wasn’t.
“Hyuuung,” Jisung called. He was curled up on the couch, back in their shared dorm all those years ago, phone balanced between his knees as a film played on-screen. With a doe-eyed look, he puckered his lips at Changbin teasingly. “Give me a kiss!”
With a roll of his eyes, Changbin pretended to throw a flying kiss back at his bandmate. “Whatever, man.”
“Aw, come on!” Jisung cried. He clambered off of the couch, trying to disentangle himself from the blanket he had thrown over his legs. “Come over here and give me a big fat—Woah!”
Instinctively, Changbin stumbled forward with a cry, reaching out to balance Jisung from falling over. A hand on the hip, an arm wrapped around his chest. “Yah, Jisung,” he barked. He narrowed his eyes at Jisung, who only stared back at him in wide-eyed shock, cheeks tinted with reddened embarrassment. He let out an exasperated sigh. “Be careful, you could’ve broken a bone from falling-”
All of a sudden, something landed on his lips. Jisung’s lips landed on his. The pressure of it left Changbin in a daze. When Jisung leaned back, all Changbin could do was touch his fingers to his mouth, the warmth of the kiss left tingling on his lips.
Jisung blushed. “My knight in shining armour,” he teased, before leaning forward to smack another kiss to Changbin’s lips, before Changbin plunged deep into uncharted waters he knew he could never resurface from.
Since then, everything became so… different. A playful kiss stolen behind the members’ backs turned into jerking each other off under the showers together turned into fucking each other for the first time on the grubby couch of the recording studio. It was a change unacknowledged in words between the both of them, an unspoken pact to chase after the other for a kiss or a hug or some kind of affection that only left Changbin more conflicted than ever before.
They never talked about it, never had to—or, perhaps, they never wanted to. When the other members asked after them, Changbin wouldn’t reply much aside from the odd “We’re just taking care of each other”. He swallowed the I love you’s each time they crept up his throat. He dug fingernails into his palms each time Jisung was caught laughing with someone that wasn’t him. Never once had he tried to clear the fog that hung heavily in the air between them, lest he scare Jisung off with propositions of love and relationships—lest he destroy the friendship that he held so sacred to his heart, all because he decided to be selfish for once.
And so, they continued on their merry ways, until he knew it would never be enough one day.
-
They have a long break before the upcoming comeback, and so, like the dutiful son he is, Changbin packs his bags for a weekend-long trip home.
“I’m off,” announces Changbin, to no one in particular. Chan is off camping with Minho and Felix, and Hyunjin had gone home yesterday night. When he trudges into the living room, he sees Jisung on the couch, thumbing through a magazine. Changbin frowns. “Yah, Jisung-ah. Aren’t you going anywhere?”
“Me?” Stunned, Jisung whips his head around. “No?”
“Not even your family?”
“Hyung’s on a work trip overseas,” says Jisung, flicking to another page. It’s an edition of Men’s Health Korea, and if Changbin squints hard enough, he’s sure that that’s Bambam on the cover. Since when did Jisung subscribe to that magazine? Or did he pluck a copy of it from the office? Changbin tries not to focus on it. “And my parents are off celebrating their anniversary at who knows where.”
Changbin toys with the hem of his t-shirt. “Are you sure you want to be alone here? Everyone else is away.”
“It’s fine, I’m not a kid anymore. I’ll binge-watch a show or something,” Jisung says, waving a hand dismissively in the air. He’s not even looking up from the magazine. “Have fun, say hi to your sister for me.”
“You can say hi to her yourself,” Changbin blurts.
At this, Jisung lowers the magazine to his lap. “What do you mean?”
“I mean.” Changbin gulps. He scratches his neck, tilting his gaze away from the puzzled look on Jisung’s face. “You can come home with me. You don’t even have to pack much. We have a spare toothbrush and everything back at my place.”
When he glances back at Jisung, the latter is batting his eyelashes adorably at him. “Hyung, you’re not pulling my leg, are you? You better not!”
“I wouldn’t joke about something like that,” Changbin says, rolling his eyes at even the thought of pranking Jisung like that. “And my parents keep asking after you.” He conveniently leaves out the fact that his parents know he has a bumbling crush on Jisung. He blames his sister for pouring him one too many shots during Chuseok last year. “They’d love to have you.”
“As long as I’m not intruding on family time.”
“You won’t,” Changbin confirms. “I see them so often, and I call home every other day. It’s fine, I swear.”
Jisung chews on his lower lip. A long moment passes, and then: “Okay. I’ll pack some clothes and join you, is that okay?”
Something flutters in Changbin’s stomach. “Yeah. Okay. Sure. I’ll wait for you in the car.”
Within twenty minutes, they’re both piled into the car that Changbin’s parents bought him for his twenty-fourth birthday, two bags thrown into the backseat. As soon as Jisung hops in, his phone connects automatically to the Bluetooth system, proof of a few late night drives around the heart of Seoul on their rare days off. “Any songs you want, hyung? Driver’s pick.”
Changbin laughs. “I don’t mind anything. Go ahead.”
As Changbin pulls onto the highway, Jisung plays some slow RnB music in the background. It’s an English song that Changbin hasn’t heard of before. He listens to Jisung humming along to the melody, drumming his fingers against his shorts. It’s nice, reminiscent of them driving down winding roads and pulling up on an empty alleyway to clamber into the backseat and–at the thought of it, Changbin immediately shuts it down and redirects his attention to the road ahead.
“Say, Changbin-hyung,” Jisung says, “you look so sexy while driving.”
Changbin almost slams on the brakes. Jesus, did this guy have mind-reading powers or something? He forces out a choked laugh. “What the fuck, man?”
“Seriously!” Jisung chirps. He slaps a hand down on Changbin’s thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. “You look so calm and steady, one hand on the wheel and everything. I bet if I sat on your lap, you’d still drive really smoothly.”
Where is all this even coming from? “Okay…?”
Silence falls over them. It’s fine, Changbin thinks. He’s fine, definitely, except for the fact that Jisung still hasn’t let go of his thigh. He squeezes every now and again, fingers splayed against bare skin, and every movement sends blood pumping right to his cock. He can even feel himself filling out in his shorts. A quick glance at the navigation system shows that they still have an hour and a half of driving to get through. Fuck.
As Changbin makes a sharp right turn, he decides to break the silence. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Hm?” Changbin casts a sideways glance at Jisung, who simply stares ahead into the distance. “Whatever do you mean, hyung?”
“I meant this,” Changbin drawls, smacking Jisung’s hand with his own free hand. That elicits a yowl from him. “What are you trying to do here, huh?”
“I wasn’t trying to do anything!” Jisung retorts, his voice cracking at the end. “I swear!”
“Sure,” says Changbin, “and you weren’t thinking about trying to rile me up.”
Jisung snorts. “Whatever you say, hyung.”
It’s clearly a trap, and Changbin knows it well. Every time Jisung gets bored, he comes up with all kinds of tactics to get Changbin in his pants. Or, well, for Changbin to get into his pants. Whatever. The point is, what Jisung wants, Jisung gets. Not when they’re several miles from Changbin meeting with his family, though, nuh uh. No way is he showing up to the front door of his home with a fruit basket and a boner to boot.
As if his words had fallen on sleeping ears, Jisung lets his hand wander higher up Changbin’s leg. He slips a hand underneath the hem of his shorts, pushing up, up, up, until-
“Jisung, those are my balls.”
“Oops. Sorry.” That little devil does not sound sorry at all. “Ignore me.”
How can Changbin possibly ignore the heat of Jisung’s fingernails digging into the flesh of his thigh? He grabs onto the steering wheel with both hands now, white-knuckled from his vice grip on the rubber. “Jisung, take your hand off.”
“Why?”
“Because-” Someone honks them from behind. Changbin jerks the car over to the next lane. “-Because you're gonna regret it if you don’t.”
“Oh, yeah?” He can even hear the smirk in Jisung’s voice, the fucker. “What are you gonna do about it, hyung?”
Changbin glances in the rear mirror, before pulling the car into an exit. As Jisung cries out next to him about how he “took the wrong turn, hyung!” he drives into an abandoned petrol station by the side of the road. He parks the car behind the run-down building, flanked out by overgrown trees.
“Hyung? Where are we? What are you-”
With a low snarl, Changbin turns around and grabs Jisung by the front of his shirt. When their foreheads bump into each other, he catches the mischievous glint in Jisung’s eyes, the I got you look glistening from his irises. “You little minx. You wanted me to do this.”
“I have no idea what you mean, hyung,” Jisung says cheerfully, innocently. A smirk outlines his upturned lips. “Looks like you’re the one who wants to do this.”
Changbin lets out a breathless sigh. “I guess I do,” he mutters, before slamming their lips together.
The kiss is almost animalistic, with Changbin biting down hard on Jisung’s lip. That’s what you get for almost driving us into an accident, he wants to say. He kisses Jisung messily, teeth clacking, tongues slipping over each other until the heady scent of mint and saliva pools in his mouth. He grips onto Jisung’s shirt, fists wrapped around the fabric, and tugs him even closer.
“H-Hyung,” Jisung whimpers. “The console. It hurts.”
Changbin lets go almost immediately when he notices the gear stick digging into Jisung’s hip. “Sorry, sorry.” He glances back up at Jisung. The dazed look in Jisung’s eyes is enough for Changbin to leak precome in his shorts. How pathetic can he even get? “Go to the backseat for me, yeah?”
They hastily toss their bags into the car boot. As soon as they do, Jisung reaches out for Changbin again, closing the distance between them with another searing kiss. There’s only so much space for them, and it’s a bit of a fight to manoeuvre themselves around. Eventually, Jisung is grinding down on Changbin’s lap between sloppy kisses. “Hyung, fuck me right here, please,” he gasps.
“We’re about to meet my parents,” Changbin wheezes. He steadies Jisung on his lap with his hands on the other’s hips. He’s so small, and so, so pliant—it drives him insane, how his fingertips can almost touch each other around the circumference of Jisung’s waist. His resolve is crumbling with every passing second. “We shouldn’t-”
“-We can,” Jisung murmurs. He plants a wet kiss on Changbin’s cheek, then another. “I have a condom in my back pocket, like, right now.”
“I don’t have lube,” Changbin protests. “We used up all the lube in the glove compartment last time.”
Jisung throws his head back with a laugh. He leans in, lips grazing Changbin’s ear, and whispers, “Who says I didn’t prep myself in the bathroom just now?”
Fuck. Changbin feels his cock stutter in his pants, and he knows Jisung feels it, too. Fuck this and fuck Han Jisung and his uncanny ability to find all of the right buttons to press. “You never cease to amaze me,” he says, which he knows is merely a compliment for Jisung. He preens under the praise.
They struggle to pull their clothes off. Jisung chucks his shorts down to his ankles, while Changbin tosses his shirt up and over his head. Their patience runs thin when Jisung starts wrestling with the buttons on his plaid yellow shirt. “I knew I should’ve worn something else,” he grumbles, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
Irritation crawls underneath Changbin’s skin, and before Jisung can finish, he grabs onto the shirt and rips it right down the middle.
“Hyung! My shirt!” Jisung cries. His cock twitches against Changbin’s thigh. “I got it, like, last month!”
Changbin chuckles. “I’ll buy ten more of them for you, I promise,” he says, discarding the loose shirt from Jisung’s shoulders. “Now, up.”
Once Jisung’s briefs are off, Changbin presses a thumb to his hole. Sure enough, a drop of strawberry-flavoured lube drips onto his finger. “The hell did you do?” Changbin murmurs. “Stick a tub of lube up your ass?”
“Don’t complain right now,” Jisung gripes. “You should be thanking me for this.”
“Fine. Thank you,” Changbin deadpans. He reaches for the condom, tearing it open between his teeth and rolling it onto his cock. “Thank you-” He aligns himself with Jisung’s hole, and without warning, thrusts all the way in, “-for your act of service, Han Jisung.”
All he gets in response is a loud, piercing whine. Changbin hums smugly at the reply.
He piston-fucks into Jisung with abandon. He lets Jisung’s head fall to his shoulder, muffling his cries against Changbin’s skin. He grips Jisung’s waist tight against his body, so close that sweat pools between their bodies, sliding down their skin; so close that the windows fog up with the heat escaping from their bodies. The noises elicited between them are obscene, to say the least, the slapping of skin against skin, the squelch of too much lube trickling down Changbin’s leg as he fucks up into Jisung hard and fast.
“Hyung, hyung, hyung,” Jisung chants. His cock leaks precome all over Changbin’s stomach. He clenches around Changbin’s cock, so tight and hot that it has Changbin groaning embarrassingly loud in despair. “I’m gonna come like, any second now, fuck.”
“Already?” Changbin teases. He immediately slows down the pace—pulling out achingly slow, pushing back in even slower. It’s about time he fucks around with Jisung, after all the mischief he’d gotten himself into because of the demon of a boy. “Weren’t you so eager to get fucked right here? Why all the rush?”
Jisung thrashes in his arms, hands coming up to tug on Changbin’s curls. “Please,” Jisung sniffs. “Please let me come, hyung.”
It’s the polarity from submissive and pliant to wicked and demanding that sends Changbin into overdrive each time they’re together. Every side of Jisung is laid out in the open for Changbin to figure out, to mess around with until they’re exposed for him to see. And every side of him is electrifying to the touch, like a live wire on the brink of exploding all up in Changbin’s face. It’s all of Jisung that makes Changbin want to break all the rules that he’s set for himself, to bend all the principles he’s used to living by.
In bated breath, Changbin wraps a hand around Jisung’s cock. “Okay. Come for me, then.”
Changbin jerks his hips up and pounds into Jisung with all his might, until he knows he’s pressing right against the spot that has Jisung swimming in stars, until he knows he’s wrecking Jisung into nothing but ruins. He kisses Jisung’s shoulder, licking at the sweat forming at the juncture between his clavicle and his neck, and then kisses into the broken cries escaping from Jisung’s throat.
Not long after that, Jisung releases all over Changbin’s chest. The whine that leaves his lips sends Changbin over the edge, too, and he comes into the condom with a low groan.
Huffing, Changbin shakes his head in defeat. “You couldn’t have waited ‘till we got to my house at least?”
“Now, where’s the fun in that?” Jisung chuckles, his voice low and hoarse. He tucks a strand of hair from Changbin’s forehead in an act so sweet and kind, Changbin almost forgets that they’re not lovers, not even in the slightest. He wants so badly to scoop Jisung into his arms, to pepper him with kisses, to whisper “I love you” into the curves of his tangerine slice smile.
He wants so much more than this, it’s starting to actually hurt.
He diminishes the useless thought from his head with a sigh. “I can’t believe I have to face everyone else like this later.”
“If it helps, I have deodorant in my bag somewhere.”
“Are you on this trip to see my family, or to fuck me in every corner of my house?”
Laughing, Jisung wiggles his eyebrows at Changbin, which only makes him crack up. “Hey, you said it, not me. Now, take your cock out, man, or you’re paying me rent for your overtime stay.”
-
When they’re greeted at the door, Changbin pretends not to be bothered by his mother showering Jisung in praise and adoration.
“Ah, Jisung-ah,” his mum coos. “It’s been far too long! I hope Changbin shared some of the side dishes I sent to him last month?”
“You did?” Jisung asks, letting out a fake gasp. “But hyung didn’t share any with me!”
“What the–Ow! Eomma!” Changbin cries, wincing from the smack to the arm from his mum. “I did share them with him! He’s lying!”
His mum rolls her eyes jokingly. “You better have. I sent over at least three months’ worth of banchan to you,” she tuts. “Now come in, you’re just in time for lunch.”
As soon as his mum turns around, Jisung pulls a face at him like the five-year-old he is. Childishly, Changbin sticks his tongue out in response.
“By the way,” his mum adds, “the ceiling of your sister’s room started leaking, but the contractor isn’t coming ‘till next week. She’s moved into the guest room.” She casts a knowing look over her shoulder. “Jisung, you don’t mind bunking with Changbin for now, right? I’m sorry you don’t have a room for yourself, but I thought you boys wouldn’t mind.”
Changbin gulps. Rooming with Jisung on tours is one thing; under his parents’ roof is a whole other situation altogether. He peeks a glance at Jisung, who only beams at Changbin’s mother with the grace of an obedient son. “Of course I won’t mind, Mrs Seo. Brings back memories of us in our old dormitory, right, hyung?”
“...Right.”
They drop off their stuff in Changbin’s bedroom. As Jisung inspects every corner of the room, Changbin grows more and more self-conscious of their surroundings. When he moved out to become a trainee, his mum had left the room exactly as it was. A Girls’ Generation poster is taped next to a Shinee one, reminiscent of his fanboy days. Comic books are crammed into one of his bookshelves, right next to his primary school textbooks collecting dust along the spines. A dinosaur carpet peers out from underneath the foot of his double bed.
Grinning, Jisung swivels around on his heel. “Your place is nice,” says Jisung. “Though, are you sure we can both fit on the bed?”
They hadn’t accounted for the fact that Changbin had gotten this bed aged seventeen, nor the fact that Changbin had since bulked up into something close to a bodybuilder figure. He rubs his chin between his thumb and forefinger in deep thought. “I could sleep on the floor,” he proposes. “I’m sure we have an air mattress somewhere-”
“-No way! How can I let the Seo family jewels lay on the floor?” Jisung wails. He shakes his head, crossing his chest in defiance, or rather, an attempt to assert his dominance. It’s not very effective against Changbin. “I can sleep on the floor.”
“You’re the guest, though,” Changbin argues. “And my mum will kill me and throw my remains into the Han River if she knows I let you sleep on the floor.”
“But you’ll wake up with a sore back.”
“I am not that much older than you,” Changbin retorts. He snatches up a pillow on his bed and biffs it against Jisung’s arm. “Take that comment back.”
Jisung gasps. “I was only looking out for you, hyung! How dare you be so ungrateful to your dongsaeng like this?” He scrambles to grab another pillow and waves it around in Changbin’s direction. He misses. “Come here!”
A cackle escapes from Changbin’s lips. He expertly moves closer to Jisung, and once he’s within reach, he thwacks the pillow on his stomach. With that, Jisung doubles over, hair flopping over his face, hands gripping onto his knees. The sight of Jisung in pain startles Changbin. He drops the pillow and hurries over to him. “Yah, are you okay? I didn’t hit you that hard-”
“-Sneak attack!” Jisung cries. He wallops Changbin right in the face, sending him stumbling backwards and landing on his backside with a groan. He barely manages to fight Jisung off of him as the latter shimmies on top of him, pillow held over his head. “Any last words, mortal?”
Changbin plans to flick Jisung’s chin—a tactic he’s often used when Jisung is too distracted to notice—when the door to the bedroom creaks open. “Yah, Changbin-ah, eomma’s asking us to come down for lunch-” His sister stops in her tracks. “Oh.”
She stares at the both of them, Jisung hovering over Changbin, all flushed cheeks and heaving chests and tangled legs. She gives Changbin a pointed look, before continuing, “Uh. Well. Come down when you’re both… ready. I guess.”
She leaves the room, closing the door shut behind her.
The both of them turn back to look at each other again. The blush on Jisung’s cheeks is unmistakable, the beetroot red stark against his honey skin. He scrambles to get off of Changbin and back onto his feet. “I’m starving,” he exclaims. “Let’s go down for lunch, huh?”
Changbin dusts off his pants, his gaze averted to the ground. “Yeah. You can go ahead first. I need to take a piss.”
“Okay!” Jisung singsongs. He bounds out of the room, and in the distance, Changbin can hear his footsteps as he leaps down the stairs.
Just as Changbin enters the bathroom, his phone buzzes in his front pocket. He fishes it out to see a notification from Chan.
Old Hag: saw jisung text in the gc that he’s at ur place
Old Hag: meeting the parents alr? u told him about ur feelings, then?
Me: shut up
Old Hag: haha
Old Hag: i take that as a no? :-)
(Two years ago. Twenty-three-year-old Seo Changbin, who thought he was subtle enough, casting glimpses of his crush in the recording studio as they brainstormed songs together, laughing at all of his jokes, ruffling up his hair and complimenting his lyrics. Twenty-five-year-old Bang Chan, who exchanged glances from Changbin to Jisung and then back again, who nudged Changbin in the elbow and pointed at Jisung and whispered into his ear, “You like?”
The rest was, unfortunately, history.)
Me: fuck off
Me: arent u supposed to be pitching tents or some shit
Old Hag: aw binnie ur so thoughtful
Old Hag: i’ll leave u alone then, at ur request
Old Hag: hope u two get to share a bed and confess ur feelings for each other
Screw Bang Chan and his fucking perception. He decides to turn on the Do Not Disturb mode on his phone, too exhausted to deal with anything more than Han Jisung.
The afternoon passes by in a blur. They lounge around at home, binge-watching all the Shrek movies from the comfort of the living room. While Jisung is bunched up at the edge of the L-shaped couch, his socked feet rest upon Changbin’s lap. They stay like that for hours, passing a bucket of microwaved popcorn between them, cracking up at the jokes they come up with along the way. It’s nice. It’s comfortable. It’s… domestic.
As Shrek rides a giant-sized Gingerbread Man into town on-screen, Changbin tilts his head until he’s looking at Jisung. He watches Jisung’s mouth twitch into a smile, before it blossoms into a full laugh, and he wonders what life would look like if he just confessed right then and there. Would he be cuddled up right next to him, leaning his head against his arm? Or would he be kissing Changbin slowly, passionately, after exchanging their daily Iloveyou’s at each other?
And then, the worst possible thing happens—Jisung pokes his foot against Changbin’s cock.
Changbin almost chokes on a popcorn kernel. He scans the room for his family members—for his mum, who frequently steps in to ask if they want more food or drinks, or his sister, who can earnestly recite the dialogue of all the characters from all the Shrek movies from memory—and he slaps Jisung on the knee.
“Not in my own household!” he hisses.
“Oops,” Jisung giggles. He pops another kernel into his mouth. “Didn’t mean for that to happen, I swear.”
“We just fucked in the car. How horny can you be?”
“Well, sorry that you’re so fucking hot in that tank top,” Jisung mumbles, turning back to face the TV screen again. The compliment leaves Changbin spluttering and stuttering to scrape together a coherent reply. “Just thought it would be cool to, like, jack each other off.”
“...While we’re watching Shrek 2?”
“What, would you rather we put Shrek porn on the TV?”
“What the hell, man.”
A moment passes between them. With his eyes glued to the screen, Changbin thinks that Jisung has given up, that Jisung has finally gotten some sense knocked into his head—his parents are in the next room over, for God’s sake—until he feels it again. “Jisung, I swear-”
“-We won’t get caught.” Jisung sets the popcorn bucket on the coffee tabletop. He reaches for the remote, hits pause, and looks back at Changbin. “I swear we won’t. Let me suck you off, at least?”
It’s a stupid proposition, one that Changbin should’ve turned down immediately. At the sight of Jisung’s face, though, he groans and points at the blankets folded neatly on the couch. “Take one of those, will you?”
That’s how Changbin finds himself biting down on his fist to muffle his moans, a blanket thrown over his lap to hide Jisung’s upper body from view as he takes Changbin’s cock in his mouth, all of it happening in the middle of his family home. He blames everything that has led him to this moment on Jisung and his sweet, sweet voice, his charismatic smile, and his unwaning, insatiable libido. He bites down on his tongue so hard he can taste iron in his mouth. “Jisung, slow down, fuck.”
Jisung hums, sending a thrill down Changbin’s spine. He licks along the underside of his cock, leaving kitten-like kisses on the tip before taking him in his mouth again. The heat of his lips over Changbin’s cock is almost enough to send him to his demise. He can barely hold himself together, let alone stop the babbling noises escaping from his throat.
With a raucous slurp, Jisung pulls off of him. He peeks out from under the blanket, his tongue lapping along his lips to catch the precome drizzled over them. From where he's sat, the crude sight has Changbin catching himself from drooling. "Don't be so loud, hyung, what if your parents walk in?"
"You're loud as hell, too," Changbin counters, "sucking it like you're sucking on a popsicle."
"Jeez, let a man give a blowjob in peace, will you?" Jisung snorts, but before Changbin can argue back, Jisung ducks back under the covers and closes his lips over the tip of Changbin's cock, sliding over until it hits the back of his throat. Holy shit. He laps on Changbin's cock, teeth scraping along the edge in a way that leaves his fingertips tingling. If he keeps it up at this rate, Changbin knows he's going to-
“Slow down,” Changbin rasps. “I’m close.”
One of Jisung’s hands comes up to fondle Changbin’s sack, another gripping on the swell of his cock and tugging slowly, excruciatingly slowly. The sensation of mouth and fingers and tongue and Jisung has Changbin’s head spinning with giddy desire, his mouth agape as he exhales shakily into the air, as he grips onto Jisung’s head through the blanket. The wretched Iloveyou is lodged right there in his throat, threatening to break past the barriers and tumble from his lips, to–
Several footsteps echo from the corridor.
“Fuck.” Changbin smacks Jisung’s shoulder to alert him. "Someone's coming-"
In a series of misfortunes, everything happens in slow-motion: Jisung accidentally bites down on his cock, Changbin screeches, “FUCK!”, and just like that, he blows his load right into Jisung’s mouth.
Startled, Jisung pulls off of Changbin’s cock. He tugs the blanket off until his head pops up from underneath. He’s all a mess: come and saliva on his lips, tears welled-up in his eyes from the pressure. In a panic, Changbin gestures frantically to Jisung to duck under the couch, which he does—right as Changbin’s sister walks into the room.
“Is that Shrek 2?”
Changbin holds his breath and says, as coolly as he can, “Yeah. Why?”
“Cool. Let me grab some popcorn and I’ll join you both–Hey, where’s Jisung?”
“In the bathroom,” Changbin fibs. He feels Jisung’s breath on his ankle, enough to stir his spent cock. He thanks the heavens above for the blanket covering his lower half, his boxers and shorts around his heels. “He’ll be back in a sec.”
“Okay. Catch you in a bit.”
When his sister leaves, Jisung climbs out from his hiding spot. He’s wiped off some of the mess from his face, though it’s still adorned in a dazed I-just-sucked-a-cock expression. “See? I told you,” he says, leaning close to plant a kiss on Changbin’s lips. Annoyance fades, almost instantly, into affection. “I told you we wouldn’t get caught.”
-
“How’s living with Changbin?”
“Sooooo good,” Jisung drones. From where he’s curled up in bed, Changbin quirks an eyebrow at him. “Even his bedroom has a chandelier, did you know that?”
Some of the members ooh and ahh over the FaceTime call. It’s one of their four or five video calls that they have every day that they’re apart over the break. Talk about separation anxiety. After all, the codependency conspiracies are true—these men can not go anywhere without each other’s presence.
“Where’s Changbin?” asks Hyunjin.
“On his bed,” Jisung flips the camera over to Changbin, who flops onto his side. “Look how small the bed is for him.”
Several chuckles stream through the speakerphone, to which Changbin merely rolls his eyes.
There’s a crackle of feed from Chan’s end. “Day two of having Jisung over, has Changbin exploded yet?”
“Yah! Come on, hyung, I’m such an incredible house guest!” Jisung cries. “Right, Changbin-hyung?”
“...Right.”
“See?!”
“Sounds unconvincing,” Minho snorts. “How long are you leeching off of him?”
“We’re going back to the dorms tomorrow,” Jisung says, “since Jeongin is coming back then, too. I think we wanted to go bowling together after that?”
“Okay, well, don’t bite each other’s heads off ‘till then!” If Chan were in front of him, Changbin would be shaking that man’s shoulders off of him. “Minho and I are leaving first, Felix just came back from grocery-shopping. See ya!”
A chorus of Bye’s and See you soon’s reverberate throughout the room, and then Jisung ends the call. As he places his phone down on the study desk, he gives Changbin a furtive glance. “How about we-”
“-We are not having sex in my room,” Changbin says solemnly, “and my answer will not change.”
After yesterday’s close call, Changbin swore off of engaging in any and all sexual activities with Jisung under his roof. They’ve gone through with it for the past day and a half. It helped that they went out with Changbin’s family yesterday evening, and then joined them for hiking and an afternoon tea today. With their bellies full from a barbecue meat dinner, they’re resting in Changbin’s room for the last night before they head back tomorrow.
“Come on,” Jisung whines. “There’s nothing else to do in your house.”
“And so your solution is to have your back blown out while my parents listen next door?”
“They won’t hear you,” Jisung says. “Didn’t your dad say that the walls are soundproof?”
Sighing, Changbin rolls over and starfishes on the bed. “Jisung…”
It dawned upon him last night, when they were both fighting for space on the bed, which ended in an argument, which ended in a heated make-out session with Changbin awkwardly heading to the bathroom right after—that their time alone together almost always ended in sex. For the last few years that this arrangement had gone on for, someone would end up with a cock in his throat or a cock in his butt, or a cock against another cock—you get the picture. They spent an awful lot of time watching movies and hanging out, sure, but they also spent an awful lot of it banging each other’s brains out. At this point in time, Changbin can’t tell if that’s good or bad.
What’s bad right now, though, is figuring out how to appease Jisung’s sexual tendencies.
“Lock the door, will you?”
Jisung immediately perks up. “I already did that,” he proclaims, “when we walked in after dinner.”
“Of course you did,” Changbin mutters. He pats on the small space next to him, not bothering to lift his head from the mattress. “Come here.”
“What’s with this change of mind?” Jisung asks, raising an eyebrow quizzically. Nevertheless, he strides across the room until he’s hanging off of the edge of the bed, leaning over Changbin’s head. “Are we having sex?”
“What–I–” For someone as shy and reserved as Jisung, he sure knows how to run his mouth when he’s horny. “-No, not unless we do something about your mouth.”
“My mouth?”
As Changbin leans on his elbow, he twists around to reach out for his bedside drawer. “You make a lot of noise, you know. We have to put a sock in it.”
“You mean a stop to it.”
“No, a sock,” Changbin affirms. He lifts an old Spiderman-patterned sock up to Jisung’s eye-level. “Tada.”
“You’re stuffing that in my mouth?” Jisung splutters. “Hell no. That’s been on your foot before!”
“Yeah, when I was, like, five,” Changbin says. “Look, it’s been washed! Thoroughly! With softener and everything!”
With a disapproving sigh, Jisung snatches up the sock. “Fine. In return, we’re doing what I want.”
“...Isn’t that basically all the damn time?”
“That’s only because you never make any requests.”
Touche. What Jisung wants, Jisung gets. Changbin never throws a fuss, though that’s only because of the crush he harbours on Jisung. “Fine. What do you want to do?”
He’s not sure what he expected. Sex, or a blowjob, or even just giving each other handjobs. Whatever he had expected, he did not anticipate for this: “I want to fuck your tits.”
“The fuck is that?” Changbin asks, a tinge of reluctance in his voice at the unfamiliar word. He even said it in English. “Jisung, you’re not planning something awful, right?”
“No, no, come on, hyung,” Jisung says lazily. He tosses a leg over Changbin’s waist, balancing himself on his hips. “Just take off your shirt.”
Changbin narrows his eyes. “Put the sock in your mouth.”
“Fine,” Jisung sighs. He stuffs the sock as requested, then proceeds to throw his hands up in an act of There, happy?
Exasperated, Changbin pulls his shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor. When he looks back at Jisung, he’s startled to see how wide-eyed he looks, hands coming up to squeeze Changbin’s pectorals. He howls. “Jisung, what are you–”
Jisung takes the cloth out of his mouth. “Look here, mister,” he drawls, “it’s simple. I want to (a) squeeze your tits together, (b) slide my cock in and out of the space between them, and then (c) come on your face. Capiche?”
Heat rushes up to Changbin’s cheeks at the raunchiness of the request. “Don’t have to make it sound so methodical, jeez,” he mumbles.
It’s humiliating, to say the least. He can’t help but jerk his head away, only for Jisung to take him by the chin and redirect him to look right back at the other. He sucks in a breath when Jisung glides his hands over the planes of his abdomen, cupping over his chest and squeezing gently. His cock leaks in his boxers; his heart jackhammers underneath his chest. “Jisung…”
Jisung smiles impishly around the sock. He pinches on one of his nipples between his fingers, rubbing a thumb roughly over it until it hardens under his skin. With his other hand, he traces a circle with his fingernail around his nipple, the movement tickling his skin until it’s almost too sensitive to touch. Underneath him, Changbin’s chest heaves with winded breath. He throws his head back, drinking in the scorching pleasure fogging up his vision.
After a long moment, Jisung lets go, momentarily, to shove his shorts off, before coming back and aligning his cock between the swells of Changbin’s breasts. He squeezes them together, and then looks at Changbin, almost like he’s searching for approval. Changbin chuckles. “Go ahead, then.”
Carefully, Jisung slots himself in the space. It’s a stunning vision, Changbin realises: he watches as the tip of Jisung’s cock slides in and out from view between his breasts, as the precome pools on his upper chest. He gets why Jisung propositioned this to him now, the uncoordinated drag of his cock leaving Changbin ever so slightly mesmerised. He raises his gaze up to Jisung’s face twisted in gratification, eyes screwed shut as he drools into the sock.
He grinds up against Jisung lazily with a small smile. “Such a good boy.”
It draws out a reaction he hadn’t ever seen before. The cloth falls from Jisung’s mouth, landing with a plop onto the mattress, and he lets out a pitiful moan. “Hyung,” he whimpers. “Say that again, please.”
“What?” Realisation dawns upon Changbin, and he smirks. “Good boy?”
From where he’s gripping onto Changbin’s chest, Jisung’s hands begin to tremble. “Again.”
“What a good boy, Jisung-ah,” Changbin purrs. “Show me how good you can be for me, hm?”
Something clicks inside of Jisung. He snaps his hips forward, sliding his cock over Changbin’s skin again and again that it must surely be chafing. He leans down, panting over Changbin’s face, and surges forward to capture his lips in a kiss. It’s less kissing, more drooling right into his mouth as he switches between fucking into Changbin’s tits and rutting against his cock. The tell-tale sign of Jisung's desperation is only proof of how sensitive he can get, how fast he can come in Changbin's presence. It drives Changbin insane how the boy can fall apart in his hands, only his and no one else's. Be it a stroke of Changbin's ego or something else altogether, Changbin shoves the thought from his mind for now.
“Hyung, I’m gonna come,” Jisung whines. He leans his cheek against Changbin’s chin, the tips of his ears bright red. “Please let me come.”
“You can come, Jisung-ah.” Changbin swallows down the affection, that sickeningly well-known devotion inching up his throat, as he always has, as he always will. “You’ve been so good for me.”
You’re always so good for me.
Jisung comes with a shout, spilling over Changbin’s chest and arms until it drips onto the mattress. At the same time, he swings his hips down, rubbing against Changbin’s cock until he, too, releases into his underwear with a low growl.
Spent, Jisung slumps onto Changbin, his cock softening against the other’s stomach. “Hyung,” he sighs, mouth grazing against skin. “I never want this to end, you know?”
Deep down, Changbin knows that Jisung is referring to the sex. He knew it from the moment they somehow ended up in this predicament, and he knows it now, too. And yet, he wraps a hand around Jisung’s wrist, burns a blazing fire right into Jisung’s eyes with his gaze, and says, “I like you, Jisung-ah.”
Everything slows down in time. Jisung blinks back at him, eyelids drooping until they close, before lifting open again like shutters. He pulls his hand away from Changbin’s grip, opening his mouth to say something, anything. No words come out. Nothing except pity and despair is written all over Jisung’s face, and it’s then that Changbin knows.
It’s over.
Before Jisung can try to come up with something else—a lie or an excuse to make Changbin feel better about himself, because fuck, it’s Jisung—Changbin pats Jisung’s shoulders with a sigh. “It’s fine,” he says. He blinks back the tears prickling his eyes. “I’m fine. Let me… Let me find some new bedsheets for us, yeah?”
He waits for Jisung to slip off of him, before Changbin stands to his feet and walks calmly into the adjacent bathroom. He waits until he hears the bedroom door creak open and shut, before letting the first tear roll down his cheek and plop into the sink basin with a defeated sigh. When he looks up at himself in the mirror, with regret reflecting back at him, he knows he only has himself to blame for this.
-
The next couple of days pass slowly, achingly.
They don’t talk on the drive home, nor in the apartment. When the other members trickle back from their own breaks, it becomes progressively easier to ignore each other’s presence in the same room, to ignore the thick tension hanging between them in the same air.
Eventually, when Jisung walks out of the recording studio one day to get an iced coffee, Chan spins around in his chair with a frown on his face. “That’s it. Talk to me. What’s up with you and Jisung?”
Changbin rips a piece off of the tissue paper in his hand. “What do you mean?”
“Stop with the bullshit, man.” He flicks the tissue paper out of Changbin’s hands, arresting his attention back to Chan. “I know something happened over the break. What is it?”
Leaning his head against the chair, Changbin lets out a shaky breath. “I confessed to him.”
“Okay.” Silence. “And?”
“And he no longer wants to speak to me,” Changbin says. He crosses his arms over his chest and hangs his head low. “He looked at me like I was a fish out of water, and he couldn’t say anything. I fucking blew it. I just know.”
Chan cocks his head. “When exactly did you confess to him?”
Warmth bleeds into Changbin’s cheeks. “You don’t want to know.”
“Oh, I think I do.”
“...We, like, fucked around a bit,” Changbin admits, grimacing as he says it. “Like he came on me, and then I came-”
“-Okay, okay, I get the gist.” Even Chan’s face is scrunched up in disgust. “How do I get that picture out of my head now?”
“Yah, you wanted the details!”
“I know, I just didn’t expect you to confess to him then,” Chan explains. “Did you even give him time to recover? To think your words over? Or did you, oh, I don’t know, make it seem like some post-sex line you threw out at him?”
Changbin chokes on air. “I–I don’t. No, but, he didn’t–”
“-If some guy I was hooking up with told me that he liked me after he blew his load on me, I’d assume it would be a slip of the tongue,” Chan says, determination laced in his tone, “not an actual confession from my bandmate about his everlasting crush on me.”
As Chan’s words sink through the membranes of his brain, Changbin claps a hand over his forehead and slides it down his face. “Fuuuuuuuck.”
“Thought you were a sappy romantic, Changbin-ah,” Chan sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. He swivels his chair around to face the monitor screen again. “Didn’t think the dumbass in you would’ve cancelled it out.”
“...Shut up.”
“Oh ho, but you loooove me,” Chan retorts. “What do you say to me?”
With a roll of his eyes, Changbin smacks a fist to Chan’s arm. “Thanks, hyung,” he says in a hushed whisper.
“Just sort it out with him soon,” Chan says, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth in annoyance. “I can barely breathe with the both of you walking on eggshells around each other. And you know he won’t be the one to come to you first.”
Changbin does know that. For all their years spent together cracking jokes, making music, breaking out into petty arguments, and everything else in between, Changbin knows Jisung like the back of his hand, knows what to say to make him laugh, knows where to touch to make him unravel in his arms, knows how he hides when he’s conflicted with his thoughts. Memories of Jisung coming to him in tears after another stupid argument resurface, and his heart sinks heavily within his chest.
“Yeah, I know.”
-
That night, as the group returns home after a team dinner, Changbin reaches out for Jisung’s wrist before he can scurry off to his bedroom. “Jisung-ah. Can I talk to you for a sec?”
Surprised, Jisung turns around sharply. “Sure, hyung. What’s up?”
Changbin swallows. “Can we talk about this in my room, if that’s okay?”
“Okay.”
Even with the script he’s drafted in his head, apprehension frames Changbin’s tense shoulders as he ushers Jisung into his bedroom. He shuts the door behind him and circles around to see Jisung standing, unmoving, in the middle of his room. He’s staring off to the side, avoiding Changbin’s line of gaze. It only unnerves Changbin even more. “I wanted to talk about that night at my place-”
“-Hyung,” Jisung says. He takes his lower lip between his teeth, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “You don’t have to explain. I get it. Heat of the moment and everything-”
“-It wasn’t.” At this, Jisung snaps his mouth shut. “I didn’t mean to confess to you like that, not after what we had just done. I didn’t want to.”
Jisung shrugs. “Then why did you?”
“I don’t know,” Changbin sighs. He runs his hand through his hair, down to the nape of his neck, unsure how Jisung will reciprocate, if he even will. “I never planned to confess to you, because I didn’t want to ruin what we had going on. I was worried that if I confessed, that we wouldn’t ever talk or hang out together like we always have done. But I think even I can’t hide my feelings for you anymore, Jisung, not after liking you for so many years. I like you so much.
“You don’t have to say anything else,” Changbin adds. He drops his head, unwilling to look at the expression on Jisung’s face when he eventually turns him down. “I just wanted to clear the air between us.”
A long pause ensues, and then, Jisung says, “Hyung, I thought you knew.”
Puzzled, Changbin jolts up to look at Jisung. “What?”
A small smile adorns Jisung’s face. He takes a step closer to Changbin, then another. “I thought you knew that I like you, too.”
That can’t be right. “You… You do?”
Jisung walks towards him timidly, his hands wrung together, until they’re only several inches apart from one another. “I do. When you told me you liked me that night, I was really surprised, and I would’ve been happy if you hadn’t later dismissed it. And then I thought to myself, Oh, it was just a slip of his tongue.”
“It’s not,” Changbin blurts. He grabs hold of Jisung’s hand. He timidly slips his fingers between the gaps of Jisung’s own, lifting it to his lips so he can kiss his knuckles. A blush blooms across Jisung’s cheeks. “I thought you weren’t reacting because you didn’t like me or something. I was an idiot.”
“In your defence, I think we both are,” Jisung admits. “Who fucks their bandmate for years without confessing to them?”
“Us,” Changbin offers.
Jisung laughs, his eyes curving up into crescents, his cheeks swelling around the shape of his smile. “Touche.”
Changbin brings another hand up to cup Jisung’s cheek, fingers curling around his hair. “Can I kiss you, Jisung-ah?”
“Oh, so you can make requests after all,” Jisung muses. A long pause, and then: “Of course you can kiss me, dumbass.”
Unlike all their other kisses before, this one is quieter, softer, their lips slotting together like they were made for one another. They take their time, licking into each other’s mouths, hands roaming over arms and shoulders, searching for somewhere to grip onto and tug closer until their bodies merge into one. The scrape of Jisung’s stubble rubs deliciously against Changbin’s skin, causing him to go weak in the knees and cling onto Jisung. “Sung-ah, let me-”
“-Not tonight,” Jisung whispers. He mouths along Changbin’s jaw, eyelashes framing his hooded eyes as he peers up at him. “Let me do everything for you, hyung.”
Something between a moan and a whine escapes from Changbin’s lips. He lets Jisung guide him towards the bed, gesturing for him to scoot over and lie down. Changbin complies, his gaze never leaving Jisung as he chucks his shirt off of him. “What do you want to do?” he asks, his voice barely audible.
The grin on Jisung’s lips sharpens into a smirk. He straddles Changbin’s hips, and with a flick of his wrist, gracefully pulls his t-shirt off of him, revealing the taut lines of his muscles. Changbin almost drools at the sight. “I want to make love to you, hyung. Let me?”
And who is Changbin to deny Jisung of what he wants? He nods, wordlessly, and hands Jisung the reins.
Granted, he can’t remember the last time Jisung had fucked him. Weeks ago. Probably a hasty session in the rehearsal room. He would be lying if he pretended that he weren’t nervous, so when Jisung flips him over onto his belly, Changbin professes, “I might be a bit, uh, tight.”
“I know.” With him facing the headboard, Changbin can only imagine where Jisung is looking at right now. “It’s fine. I’ll go slow, yeah?”
The position itself is almost humiliating, if it weren’t for Jisung peppering kisses all along his shoulder and down his spine. A hand reaches out to tug his sweatpants and boxers down in a smooth sweep, discarding them from around his ankles. Cool air fans over his skin. He buries his face in a pillow to cover his whine. “This is so embarrassing.”
“What do you mean? Just look at yourself.” Jisung murmurs. He spreads his fingers over a buttcheek, squeezing lightly. And then, the little devil starts singing, “I like the view right now-”
“-Shut. Up. Or I’m throwing you out of my room.”
“Come on, hyung, you wouldn’t do that,” Jisung chuckles. Another hand comes up to squeeze his other buttcheek, and without warning, he slaps across it with his bare hand. Changbin slumps to the mattress with a moan. “Not when you’re enjoying yourself so much.”
“You little shit, how dare you-”
“-Nuh uh,” Jisung says. Another slap, another surge of blood right to Changbin’s cock. Fuck. “No complaining.”
Changbin struggles to steady himself on his elbows. He whips his head around, catching the sly grin on Jisung’s face. “Are you ever gonna stick it in at this rate?”
“Patience. It’s all about the journey, honey, not the destination.”
Giving in to Jisung’s requests, Changbin can only lay his head on the pillow and sigh. “Okay, but don’t take forever. You know I get impatient.”
He feels Jisung lean over him, hard-on evident against his hip as he whispers into Changbin’s ear, “We should have something done about that, hm?” His voice is dangerously low, sexy, and Changbin is nothing but a loser for it. When Jisung pats his buttcheek again, it’s almost condescending. “Be good for me, yeah?”
All Changbin does is nod in return.
He shivers in anticipation, in need. Behind him, Jisung flips the cap of the lube bottle open, squeezing all over his fingers until it drips to Changbin’s thigh. The cold liquid causes Changbin to jerk up in surprise. He wants to beg Jisung to Hurry up already! but for the sake of his breath, he bites down on his tongue instead. He waits, quiet, until he feels a finger prod at his hole. “Let me know if it’s too much, okay?”
Jisung sinks a finger into him, the drag of it slow, achingly slow. The sensation has Changbin seething into his fist where he’s covering his mouth. His cock throbs heavily, the desire to be touched crawling all over the walls of his stomach. Without even noticing, he fucks back against Jisung’s finger, much to his shock.
“Hyung, you’re such a pervert, you know that?” Jisung says airily, half-surprised, half-amused. He slips another finger in, pushing them deeper until they graze along the right spot. Sparks fly all over Changbin’s body. “Can’t believe we don’t do this more often.”
Because you say it’s too much work, Changbin wants to bite back, but he’s convulsing so hard he can barely do more than drool onto his pillow. He twists his bedsheets in his fists, grinding against Jisung’s fingers as he craves for more, more, more. “More, Jisung-ah.”
Obediently, Jisung adds a third finger now. He drives them into Changbin harder now, thrusting in and out almost rhythmically. Another hand comes up to grip on his buttcheek, spreading them apart, digging marks into his skin. He feels lips kissing and suckling all over the swell of his butt, the sensation both gratifying and humiliating all at the same time. Changbin moans, a series of ah ah ah’ s spilling over his lips.
And right before he can come, everything disappears in an instance. Changbin whines.
“Aish, someone’s horny,” Jisung chuckles. He tips over to peck at Changbin’s cheek that frames the pout on his lips. “Calm down. Let me find a condom-”
“-You can come in me.”
He feels Jisung’s cock jump from where it’s pressed between his buttcheeks. “Seriously?”
“Yes. Whatever. Just please hurry up.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” Jisung huffs, leaving one last kiss on Changbin’s lips and shuffling back. The tip of his cock, already leaking with precome, presses against his hole. Changbin gasps. “What Changbin wants, Changbin gets.”
He thrusts all the way to the hilt, before pulling back out. No time is spared for Changbin to catch his breath before Jisung thrusts back in, setting his pace hard and fast and so fucking relentless. There’s nothing Changbin can do but whine and babble as he grinds back against Jisung’s cock, desperate for some kind of release. He clenches around Jisung’s hole, causing the latter to hiss and bite down mercilessly on Changbin’s shoulder. “You’re so tight, hyung, fuck.”
“Do your worst, Sung-ah,” Changbin pleads. A tear wobbles down his cheek. “Be a good boy and—ah, fuck—ruin me.”
As soon as the words leave his lips, Jisung slips his cock out. Before Changbin can whine at the loss, an arm steadies against his stomach, turning him over onto his back. He lands with a thud against the mattress, watching Jisung loom over him, his lower lip caught between his teeth, his sweat drenching his neck. His stomach flips at the captivating sight of Jisung—his crush, his best friend, his lover—guiding his cock to Changbin’s hole again and spearing right into him. “As you wish, hyung.”
He grips onto Changbin’s thighs, pushing them up and over and spreading Changbin completely bare before him. Every sensation is amplified tenth-fold, every movement of Jisung’s hips and hands and lips pressing open-mouthed kisses on his knees.
Jisung drives his cock over and over Changbin’s prostate, weakening every fibre of muscle in his body, leaving him shuddering and twitching in shut-eyed pleasure. He moans and cries out at the top of his lungs, incoherent noises babbling from his mouth. His cock throbs heavily against his stomach. His hands quiver where they hold onto Jisung’s hips merely for the sake of holding onto the last shred of his sanity.
“Make me come, Jisung,” Changbin gasps. He can barely see Jisung in his teary vision. “I’m so close, so close-”
“-Fuck, hyung,” Jisung curses, voice grating. The swell of his cock inside Changbin is too much, too good, all at the exact same time. “I want you to be mine and mine only, hyung.”
It’s enough to send Changbin coming all over himself. He lets out a sob, arms shaking like a leaf as he convulses against the spoiled bedsheets, jaw slackening from all the tension released across his chest, his stomach. Even in the aftermath, his cock twitches again from the overstimulation, from Jisung grinding against him, chasing after his own release.
Changbin whines, tightening his muscles as hard as he can around Jisung’s cock, and says, “Come in me, please, Sung-ah.”
He knows the moment Jisung reaches his own climax—something hot and sticky releases inside of him, leaking out of him as Jisung trembles over him, panting heavily into the space between them. Flushed cheeks, drool dribbling down his chin.
When he slowly regains his composure, his lips split into a wide, toothy grin. He swoops down to capture Changbin’s lips in a wet kiss.
“You’re going to be the end of me, hyung,” Jisung says against their lips.
Changbin laughs, kissing him back just as hard. He drags Jisung closer to his body, until their foreheads touch, until there’s nothing left for them to see but their eyes. “Then let me be yours and yours only, Jisung-ah,” is all he says.
Before they can kiss again, there’s a resounding knock against their wall, followed by a loud “Fuck you two!” in the distance. Shit. It’s none other than-
“-Channie-hyung,” Changbin whispers.
The both of them exchange a knowing glance, before bursting into laughter, which turns into a wince when they remember that Jisung is still inside of Changbin. The former pulls out slowly, come spilling out of Changbin’s hole. Jisung stares down at him in wide-eyed wonder. “Hyung, you look so sexy like this… your hole is absolutely busted,” he whistles.
“Please don’t,” Changbin laughs. He can barely lift himself up onto his elbows. “I can’t go again, not now at least.”
“...Old man.”
On any other day, Changbin would’ve thwacked a pillow over Jisung’s head until he apologised. For once, though, he tugs Jisung closer by the arm to embrace him in his arms, the mess of their time together forgotten in the moment. He lands a kiss on Jisung’s cheek, which blossoms in a tinge of crimson red. “I guess I’m your old man.”
“Fuck off,” Jisung groans, but there’s no bite in his voice. He dips his head low, quiet, then glances back at Changbin with gleaming, tear-laden eyes. “I guess I’m yours, then.”
Changbin laughs. He merely holds Jisung’s hand in his, kissing the underside of his wrist, and leans forward to say the words sincerely into his smile.
“And I, too, am yours.”