Work Text:
“We’re almost done.”
Seonghwa looked at the screen and showed the camera a handful of plastic Lego leaves. He had already been assembling the tree for two hours, so focused and a bit tired already.
The comforting silence of his streams, the slow tempo, and the calm, warming ambient were always a huge attraction for fans. Some of them were sleepily typing "good night" in the chat, and the whole atmosphere was cozy and serene.
Seonghwa relaxed in his computer chair and brushed his hair away. There was no need, though: it was already carefully styled during the daytime photoshoot and still looked too perfect. Flowing, neat silver locks gently framed the beautiful face. He secretly looked at a small picture on the screen to check the state of a soft makeup.
Was it still in place after several hours of his focused work?
Yes, it was still perfect. Glowing skin and dusty smoky eyes were giving him a look of a lifetime. A cozy, fluffy white sweater highlighted his soft features, making his skin look velvety and golden.
Seonghwa stared at the camera with big, doe-like eyes and pouted a bit, making a pause to show off. Then he smiled contentedly: the fans would be happy. The increasing stream of the comments in the chat confirmed.
He was slowly fiddling with the Lego pieces and continued to space out. Building this set felt so relaxing after a long day at work. Well, technically, it was still work – thousands of people were watching him now, discussing his look and every single word he said.
But it was a fun part. Seonghwa liked these interactions; he felt loved, bathing in the rays of fame.
The whole evening was nice. He had dinner with San at the dorm, started live and just switched off his brain for several hours. A perfect soothing time for himself and a couple of thousand of caring people. Warm and cozy.
To be honest, San made an unexpected appearance during the livestream and introduced a bit of chaos. He burst into the room just to mess around like an attention-seeking puppy.
But it was still fun… In its way, of course. And fans liked it too. All for the sake of the cheering audience.
But he ended up hyperfocusing on the LEGO building process inside a closed room, where no one could bother him for a whole evening.
Seonghwa was too absorbed in the process to hear anything or anyone. Even when the common room behind his door was briefly filled with soft humming voices before falling silent again.
The last Lego pieces were put into place. He smiled proudly, admiring the result. There was something incredibly calming about simply following the given instructions. No need to make any decisions — no need to worry about anything. A way to turn off his inner control freak and just exist. Huh. His mind finally felt at peace.
It was his way of unwinding, both body and mind. Time itself seemed to turn into thick maple syrup.
Finally, Seonghwa looked into the camera, beaming, and proudly showed off his creation.
The chat immediately exploded, messages flooding in, making his heart flutter. He was loved. An amazing feeling. An amazing evening.
Big doe eyes sparkled with joy. Watching himself on the screen, he didn’t miss the opportunity to flaunt a little. A coquettish flutter of his eyelashes, soft pinkish cheeks, bright, pliant lips. He liked what he saw. And so did the thousands watching.
He knew how he looked and he knew what they all loved: a cup of fluffy plush kitten, a spoonful of boyfriend material, a pinch of gorgeous podium diva, and just a final touch of a teasing webcam model.
Seonghwa gave the camera a long, sultry glance from beneath his lowered lashes.— detached yet teasing. Something between shy and playful.
Hundreds of praising comments poured into the chat, warm and adoring. Almost intoxicating. His tongue made a kittenish lick on the lips, so proud of himself.
After another few minutes of showing off his masterpiece, he finally waved goodbye and ended the stream. Then, after double-checking everything, he closed the window and leaned back.
He still felt coy, praised, and happy. That warm sensation of being watched lingered on his skin. Seonghwa stretched, let out a satisfied sigh, and lazily closed his eyes embracing the feeling.
Just a second of silence, and then the sound of footsteps in the corridor. The door to his room creaked softly. Seonghwa snapped out of his daze, eyes fluttering open just in time to see a familiar indecisive face in the doorway.
"May I come in?"
Hongjoong slipped into the room, carefully pulling the door shut behind him. He stopped right there by the entrance, as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to take a few more steps forward, and hesitated. His gaze fixed on Seonghwa’s relaxed figure in the chair.
Seonghwa blinked, coming out of the stupor, before nodding hesitantly. "Sure,” a little awkward pause, “I didn’t know you were coming. Need to pick something from our dorm?"
Hongjoong was not a frequent visitor to their apartment. He was spending most of his time in the studio or around it, being ready to take off and run to a recording room. They did not see each other much outside work and numerous practices. Hongjoong usually did not have much spare time to spend on something non-work-related. For example, visiting members, even Seonghwa, as a simple courtesy.
"Uh, no, not really. I just… I saw you were streaming and figured I’d stop by." Hongjoong mumbled and cast a nervous glance around. He shoved his hands into his pockets and hesitated, as if he didn’t know what else to say.
"Sure…”, a whisper and then silence.
Hongjoong was still dawdling close to the door, looking like he was ready to leave any second.
“Did you like it?" Seonghwa asked lowly. He was gazing at him from under hooded lashes as the matter of a habit in a way.
Hongjoong lingered at the other end of the room, his posture strangely tensed. He looked like a fox testing the ice on a frozen river, uncertain if it would hold.
"Hm?", Hoongjoon seemed disoriented by a sudden question.
Seonghwa softly chuckled and tried to ask again: "The stream. Did you like it?"
"You were stunning." Hongjoong burst out and immediately froze.
His eyes pierced Seonghwa with some kind of intensity. Uncomfortable in a very specific and weird way. The words slipped out into the quiet of the apartment, cracking slightly as they did.
"Sorry… I'd better be going", Hongjoong suddenly apologized for his short whiplash with his expression unreadable.
Something felt off. Seonghwa decided to make another try at keeping the small talk flowing.
"Yeah, the stylists did an amazing job with my makeup and hair today. That’s why I decided to stream," Seonghwa giggled as he kept watching the man’s mood swings.
He was shyly tucking his hands deeper into the sleeves of his sweater. Sweaterpaws were always comforting for him. And also helped to feel cute.
"No, I mean… YOU are stunning. No matter of the makeup. You are just… breathtaking and all. And dazzling. Gorgeous." Hongjoong blurted out, then suddenly clamped his mouth shut, looking startled — a fox had just stepped into ice-cold water. “Fuck, sorry, again.”
It looked like a crack in a dam. A small and hesitant water dribble was menacing to turn into a river stream. And a stream of good kind words that are not exactly Hongjoong’s cup of tea. Kind of.
Seonghwa’s lips curled into a small smile. He liked these words. He also liked how unusual Hongjoong behaved today. It was making him want to try things.
"Thank you, Captain. So, you watched the whole stream? Waited until the end to come in?" Seonghwa brought a soft sweater paw to his cheek and bit a lower lip in anticipation.
Deep down, he was giggling and kicking his feet. The situation felt kind of funky, and Seonghwa was definitely in the mood to play along. Ready to ask as many questions as necessary to figure out what was going on. He may have felt playful, too. The stream had left him in a foxy mood, and he was ready to use it to the fullest.
It was so not-Hongjoong behaviour: to watch the whole meaningless stream where Seonghwa was doing nothing apart from being pretty, bursting into his room and showering him with compliments. Looked like a prank. Or like a serious system damage.
"I just wanted to say hi." Hongjoong finally spoke quietly.
But Seonghwa could practically see the unspoken "and to see you" written all over Hongjoong’s face.
He giggled again, lowering his voice.
"Hi."
Hongjoong hesitated for a second — then took his small step forward.
“Hi.”
Seonghwa licked his lips in curiosity and anticipation, wondering what would happen next, and raised his eyes.
Hongjoong was absent-mindedly studying the display of Lego sets near the table.
"You have so many of them... Did you finish the one I gave you? Ah, right, I remember you saying during the live that you’re saving it for a special day."
It felt like he was just filling the silence, distracting himself from the real reason he was here.
Usually, he wasn’t much of a talker, but nervousness seemed to have made him one.
Seonghwa was patiently waiting for the plot development and observing the mess called Kim Hongjoong.
"Listen," the man finally mumbled, "I saw San was here."
Seonghwa widened his eyes and slowly nodded, still wondering about the purpose of this conversation. But he finally felt like he was just starting to see where it was all going.
His relationship with Hongjoong had always been weird and messy. Every day was different from the last. Every conversation was so random and sometimes undescribably awkward.
On Monday, they could be spending a great time together, acting like best friends and all, and by Tuesday, Hongjoong would be cringing to even stand next to him in front of others. Not even speaking of looking him in the eye. The smallest touch was making Hongjoon fly off in terror.
The ambiguity didn’t bother Seonghwa much because he thought he knew the real Hongjoong. At least, he liked to believe he knew him well enough. Hongjoong was eccentric like that. Difficult in many ways. Probably neuro-spicy, Seonghwa thought with a warm giggle.
He couldn't help but notice man’s subtle attempts at placing a hand on hyung’s shoulder or waist, and then acting like nothing had happened. Or the drastic changes in behavior after showing even the slightest sign of affection.The emotional rollercoaster where Hongjoon was a driver, a passenger and a venue manager all 3 in 1.
But sometimes it was tiring. Not now, of course, now Seonghwa was in the right mood for a long adrenaline ride.
"Mhm, I mean, I saw you and San were having fun and so on," Hongjoong frowned and awkwardly trailed off.
Seonghwa’s blank stare shifted in an instant. He blinked at Hongjoong once, then let a knowing smile tug at the corner of his lips. He tilted his head, feigning innocence. Then leaned forward just slightly, voice dipping into a soft, almost teasing tone.
"Why? Jealous?", he smiled widely.
Hongjoong stiffened. He averted his gaze, his ears visibly turning red.
"Why would you say that? I was just wondering if you two… spend a lot of time together like that."
"And by like that, you mean...?" Seonghwa prompted, voice slow, teasing, tasting the tension like something sweet on his tongue.
"You know,” Hongjoong snapped, but caught himself fast. “All the… skinship. Fooling around. Hugging. Pulling hair. Sitting on each other's laps."
His words tumbled out, rough and unpolished, and his whole posture screamed discomfort. Yet there was something stubborn and seemingly unusually close to pouting on his face. Seonghwa watched him with open curiosity.
“Okay, if it’s not jealousy… then what is it?”, Seonghwa felt a sudden thrill, his relaxed mood sharpening into something cunning. He wanted to tease and to fool around; it was fun to try to push the boundaries. …Maybe he spent too much time with Wooyoung to take his weird habits.
“Maybe it’s envy,” Seonghwa continued slowly, voice all silky and teasing, eyes narrowing.” I bet you wanted to be the one on that stream. The one in San’s place.”
His fingers deliberately glided upward to play with a strand of hair, sliding all the way up the soft sweater.
His gaze never left Hongjoong’s face, studying every muscle, every change in expression, each flicker of hesitation.
“Did you want to do a livestream with me?" he murmured. He leaned in just a little, eyes locked with Hongjoong’s, then licked his lips slowly. He was doing everything so painfully purposefully cause it started to be a challenge.
Hongjoong faltered, shrugged slightly, and swayed where he stood. He slipped his hands into his pockets. “And if I did?”
“We can rehearse,” the tall blond man had bitten his lower lip and suddenly stood up and stepped aside. A slight mischievous grin appeared from nowhere.
He waved a hand and gestured toward the chair invitingly. “Be my guest”, Seonghwa added, as bluntly as he could — careful not to scare off a certain brave squirrel.
Hongjoong took a few hesitant steps forward and reached the chair, still unsure where this was going. He sat down and looked up with a touch of suspicion.
“What should I do? Will I be an invited guest the next time or something?”
Seonghwa ran his hand along the top of the chair back.
“Kind of,” he murmured, stepping closer. “I want you to relax and think about how we interact during the upcoming stream. It should feel natural. Not that you have to look me in the eyes,” he giggled.
He just had a brilliant idea to teach Hongjoong how to look him in the eye. For the sake of future content, of course
“We just both need to enjoy the process. Don’t be so tense.”
He stroked his fingers over Hongjoong’s shoulders, letting them drift briefly. The body beneath him shivered at the slight and gentle touch of his fingertips. The muscles under his fingertips tensed even more.
“See? You’re too uptight. When we go live with San, he’s so chill and straightforward. I love that about him.”.
That did the trick — Hongjoong flinched.
“You know what, maybe next time—” He suddenly shot to his feet, stumbling over his words. “I just remembered, I need… to be at the studio.”
Seonghwa felt like he had just been thrown out of the car in the middle of the ride. And Hongjoong moved quickly toward the door, almost fleeing, his face turned away in a failed attempt to hide. But the redness burning at the tips of his ears certainly gave something away.
Seonghwa laughed softly as he sank back into his computer chair. It could be a fun game to play, but Hongjoong wasn’t that easy to bait. Maybe the whole stream had done a great job of setting the mood, but the captain’s mood swings were still only 2% predictable at best. Who knowa what wat the reason and what was the point? Not Seonghwa.
With a sigh, he pushed down the sweet shiver running along his spine and turned his attention back to the screen.
***
The next day’s dance practice was kinda weird too. Everyone was the same as always — focused, doing their best not to make mistakes and not to drag practice late into the night. The session itself went rather smoothly, right up until they wrapped it up and slipped out of “work mode.” Still, no one had left the practice room just yet.
Wooyoung and Yunho were giggling in the corner, showing Seonghwa silly variations of the new choreo. San and Mingi kept drilling the moves in front of the mirror. Jongho sat scrolling through his phone, while Yeosang stared into the void from his spot on the floor nearby. It was all the usual chaos, Seonghwa thought — everyone being their own adorable self.
And Hongjoong… he seemed to slip into one of his silent-treatment moods. Not just keeping his distance from Seonghwa during those last twenty minutes of freedom after practice, but deliberately turning his back and ignoring every remark that came his way.
Seonghwa rolled his eyes inwardly with such intensity it felt like they might make a full circle. It wasn’t the first time, and he already knew what it usually meant: Hongjoong was deep in his own head, wrestling with some thoughts he wasn’t ready to voice yet. And he was probably deep in this nervous, buzzing state, pacing through the room, being extra-jittery. Even more than always. To the others, he was the very picture of fun Hongjoong — running around, rolling on the floor with Wooyoung, laughing. But with Seonghwa? No. It was as if he didn’t know how to approach him, what tone to take, what kind of treatment to use. So he seemed to decide that ignoring was the safest option.
Seonghwa sighed at the thought and grabbed his bag from the floor. There was no point in bringing it up; in the end, it would only come down to Hongjoong making up his mind.
“Bye everyone, bye Hongjoong.” He was so damn tired of this rollercoaster that he couldn’t help but nurture himself. At least now he managed to drop a small hint: that he saw the whole freaking out situation, and that he wasn’t angry about yesterday’s escape or today’s cold shower.
Seonghwa heard the quiet goodbyes from the members and headed for the exit, but his mind refused to settle. Yesterday’s visit from Hongjoong kept replaying in his head, the purpose of it slipping through his grasp. It just didn’t line up with the image of Hongjoong he carried — or maybe, in some strange way, it did.
All those constant mood swings, the sharp shifts in how he treated Seonghwa, the awkward attempts at conversation followed by weeks of cold silence… Seonghwa had long accepted it as part of Hongjoong’s nature, his style, his character. But what if it wasn’t? Or not entirely. What if all of this was a reaction to him?
Every time Seonghwa let himself feel relaxed and playful around Hongjoong, trying to keep things light, it ended in something like this. And all he really wanted was to connect on another level — to be silly like kids, to play, to feel comfortable in each other’s ridiculousness. That was normal, wasn’t it? To want that with your best friend?
Yet it all shattered against the same damn awkwardness every single time.
Seonghwa shook his head, as if trying to shake the thoughts away. He wished these complications didn’t exist at all. He wished their connection could always stay as easy and comfortable as it sometimes was — on the best days.
All he really wanted was to be close. To laugh with Hongjoong until they both couldn’t breathe, to see him burst into that unrestrained laughter, eyes sparkling. To sit side by side, feeling the warmth of his body close, watching old movies, trading stupid comments, simply resting in the quiet comfort of his presence.
And he wanted, sometimes, to touch him without seeing that flicker of panic deep in his eyes — the kind of look that could only be read as I don’t want to be here right now.
He just wants his silly half-jokes, half-flirts to be met in kind — not answered with a shameful run. He wants to spend time together, to watch Hongjoong lost in concentration, to brush back the hair strands when they fall into his eyes. He wants to bring him lunch at the studio and sit with him on the old couch, eating side by side. He wants to see how adorable he looks when he’s sleepy and tries so hard not to show it working late at night. He wants to look at him when he wakes up so soft and warm and cuddly.
He wants to drop double-meaning hints and watch the flush creep across Hongjoong’s cheeks, see that inexplicable darkness flicker in his eyes. He wants that tingling tension between them more often — the kind that sparked just yesterday. He wants so damn much…
But that’s normal to want many things from friends, isn’t it?
Right?
Seonghwa left the KQ building with more puzzled thoughts than ever before.
***
“I can be chill too,” Hongjoong burst into Seonghwa’s room, pushing the door open without warning. His voice carried more urgency than ease, betraying the nerves he was trying to hide.
Two days had passed since The Stream — now cut into a million TikToks by fans — and since The Weird Conversation that kept replaying in Seonghwa’s head more often than he cared to admit.
He was lying on his bed with a book, wearing his pyjamas, when the sudden intrusion made him look up in silent question.
“You know… the other day you told me you like chill…” The unexpected bravado that had carried Hongjoong through the door dissolved instantly, leaving only soft mumbling. He stood in the middle of the small room, scuffing the floor with the toe of his sneaker.
“So, you’re trying to say…” The room’s owner was still trying to piece together where this all was going.
“…that I want to rehearse.” Hongjoong forced himself to gather every ounce of courage and lifted his gaze to meet the man in front of him. It lasted only for a sec, but Seonghwa was impressed by the attempt itself.
“Be my guest.” Seonghwa waved him toward the chair and put the book aside, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He did not know where this all was going but he could not lose himself a chance of contact he craved. “So… how do you want to do it?”
Noticing the quick flash of panic in Hongjoong’s eyes, he tilted his head and corrected teasingly:
“How do you want to rehearse? Shall we pick it up from the exact point we stopped?”
That look of dread was the catalyst: yes, that’s it. Seonghwa’s playful mode switched on. Again.
He wanted to play, to flirt around, to replay that tingly feeling from before. He knew that Hongjoong would probably run away after it happened, but at least he would have his dosage of funny little happiness buzzing in his stomach. He needed to feel that again. Moreover, it was a chance to hang around with Hongjoong, right?
He got up from the bed and nudged the hesitant man toward the chair. “Come on, let’s start. Let’s see how you can handle it.”
Leaning over the slouched figure in the chair, Seonghwa made sure his side brushed against Hongjoong’s shoulder as he reached for the computer.
“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll show you how it all works. It's not broadcasting now, don't worry. The camera will be right here.”
He switched on the webcam and glanced at the screen, catching the unblinking intensity in Hongjoong’s stare.
Straightening, Seonghwa stepped to the side so that he was in the frame as well. “You look perfect. I just need to figure out where to sit.”
Seonghwa cast a glance around the room, as if searching for the right piece of furniture.
Hongjoong was quietly sinking into the chair, nervously wetting his lips, clearly lost in thought.
At last, he reached for Seonghwa’s hand and tugged gently, pulling the taller man down onto his lap.
Oh.
Okay.
What a day.
Seonghwa did not expect it, but certainly liked the performance he was a part of. He theatrically gasped as he always did on stage in front of hundreds of thousands of people when Hogjoong pulled him in a hug. This flirtation had just taken a step further — it was in a closed room. That funny, electric feeling was already there, curling in his stomach and heating his whole body.
The game has begun. He would flirt the hell out of this situation and, well, count down the seconds till the man runs away.
He tilted his head back lightly, letting his hair brush against Hongjoong’s cheek.
“Didn’t know that you wanted an exact recreation”, Seonghwa teased and tried to gaze over a man behind him. Or under him, he still did not know how to perceive this new configuration. He adjusted himself on the edge of the warm man’s lap and shifted a couple of times, making himself as comfortable as possible.
“Show me what you mean by 'chill'. You just need to relax and let it go, Joongie, I can feel from here how tense you are.” The flirty intonation was piercing through every word.
The soft fingers shallowly touched his thin waist. It was already far more than where they had been in the past 7 years of friendship. It means he can give a little push, maybe?
Seonghwa suddenly felt so giggly and lightheaded that his head almost spun. It was a fun thing to play. The rewarding game. And he wanted attention, he wanted to be complimented and praised, and he wanted to be the center of someone’s world. The sudden feeling of a light touch almost made him purr. He took Hongjoong's palms in his hands and guided them firmly around his waist.
“Don’t be so shy, Captain — the audience could tell,” Seonghwa hummed, observing the picture of them on a screen. “Do whatever you want.”
The grip tightened, and Seonghwa felt a sudden pull toward the man’s chest. Hongjoong just nudged him deeper onto his lap and certainly made it feel… interesting. The warmth of the body beneath him hit like a burn.
Seonghwa let out a small whoop and almost immediately giggled, letting himself curl closer to Hongjoong’s body, seeking warmth.
“Yes, just like that,” he smiled contentedly. “Anything else you want to adjust?”
The steady heat of the other man was so comforting, so unexpectedly sweet, that Seonghwa barely noticed the movement of the hands leaving his waist for his thighs. Soft, warm palms pressed him down, caressing his hips and legs tenderly and lightly. Thumb rubbing comforting circles against his hip, barely brushing up against his skin.
The touch felt unexpectedly confident. He could not see the man’s face in the monitor; it was hidden behind his back. But Seonghwa was earlier expecting that Hongjoong had burning cheeks and ears.
“All good”, a soft, cracking voice just near Seonghwa’s ear made his heart skip a beat. Maybe he was wrong. No red ears and something dark in a gaze? He could not know.
“Okay… So, where were we?... Say hello to our non-existent audience,” the blond man tried to gather the courage left and continue the tone he started. It was unexpectedly uneasy. Seonghwa was the one teasing here, he should have controlled the situation. The blond man tried to steady his tone, but his broken, low words left him flushed and trembling. He had no idea why, though.
His own words made him squirm, and he didn’t even want to think about how the other man might be reacting to it — but he felt the answer right away: a subtle pressure just beneath his soft buttcheeks. Oh god. He could not…
This realization hit him like a truck. Hongjoong was slowly hardening under his ass. Seonghwa tried to ignore the realization and just continue his teasing comments, but he already felt it. And it made him want to squirm even more. To do what… He didn’t know; he just weirdly enjoyed this scary feeling.
“Hello.” Seonghwa felt a ticklish lukewarm breath on his nape. It shook his reality even more and he twitched. Face flustered and hot. All is visible through the camera.
He turned up the gaze and saw the pinning gaze through the monitor. Hongjoong’s eyes were piercing. He watched Seonghwa’s expression through the camera without looking away, his gaze hungrily trailing over the flushed cheeks and parted lips.
“Could you…”, Seonghwa chokes quietly on his words. “Could you please hold me by the waist?” He stuttered when he felt his cheeks getting hot and flushed.
“Like that?” came a soft whisper right near his ear, followed by the gentle brush of lips against his earlobe and the warmth of his hands hugging Seonghwa’s waist softly. “Do you act like this with all your stream guests?”
Seonghwa shuddered, a soft breath escaping his lips. He already felt like he was melting. And a new wave of goosebumps ran down his spine. He hears and feels a soft hitch of breath from Hongjoong on his neck.
“Only with the honorable ones,” Seonghwa chuckled, tilting his head back. His hands slid to the man’s thighs — to rub gently and, most importantly, to hold on to something. The waves of warmth and that funny tingling were hitting him unexpectedly hard.
“It’s my honor,” came the low, quiet reply — a voice that sent shivers running up and down his spine.
It takes all Seonghwa’s willpower not to move, and he ends up trembling on Hongjoong’s lap. The air started to feel thick and uncomfortably warm.
Hongjoong brushed his nose along the soft, pale curve of Seonghwa’s neck, pausing just at the collarbone. The heat of his breath soothed the delicate skin, so soft, so fragile, almost translucent.
A second of silence.
“Can I…?” The question came out uncertain and shaky, in sharp contrast to the tight grip of the hands and the heat of the pressing palms.
Seonghwa held his breath for a second. Can you what?
“You can,” he murmured, expecting whatever.
The unsteady breath on his skin shifted slightly, and then he felt the feverish warmth of plump lips on his neck. Dry hot and tingling. Holding back. Seonghwa didn’t flinch, didn’t move at all. But his fingers curled harder on the man’s thighs.
Fuck. He felt like he was about to catch fire right in this very spot. His insides were twisting from this little touch.
Yes, yes, yes, please. Give me fucking more.
“Don’t be shy,” Seonghwa whispered, repeating himself, pressing his back harder against the man’s chest, trying to steady his breathing. His pulse was racing. He wanted to whimper, to grind down — but he was too cautious.
He couldn’t risk scaring him off. Not now. Not yet.
Hongjoong’s fingertips slowly slid under the hem of Seonghwa’s pajama shirt, grazing the honey skin beneath. Caressing slowly and wordlessly asking for permission.
“You’ve been holding back.” Seonghwa squirmed, his hand flying up to tangle long fingers in the messy hair, tugging, trying to pull him closer.
“We’re rehearsing, remember?” The hesitation in his tone vanished, replaced by a sly, foxy edge. It felt like the moment Seonghwa lost his steering wheel in the situation. What began as playfulness was slipping, turning sharp inside him, tangled with desperation and aching need.
And the man beneath him was holding his petite waist tight, pressing his warm, moving chest against Seonghwa’s back, smiling at every single damn word. Teasing and playing with him. Enjoying putting the shiver down his spine.
And Seonghwa could only breathe heavily and try not to be so freaking obvious. He had a freaking full hard-on.
Hongjoong let out a soft exhale against Seonghwa’s neck, lips lingering. Then he kissed the delicious curve again, firmer this time. More decisive, moving up toward the delicate throat. Seonghwa felt teeth, not biting, just slightly grazing. Testing as if close to claiming, but a bit unsure if he had the right.
Seonghwa arched slightly, offering. Please, just keep going. Don’t run away. Hold me. Kiss me.
Silence was a difficult challenge. He was ready to whine and whimper just to see what the man would do. Seonghwa allowed himself a tiny sob — and felt the shiver from the body beneath him. The heat rising again — the undeniable pressure of Hongjoong hardening under him. The sensation sent a wave of pure need through his skin, so sharp and delightful it almost hurt.
He unconsciously rubbed his ass against the man’s crotch beneath him and felt the fingers on his thighs tighten sharply. “I can feel you,” he mewled. “You don’t have to hide.”
Hongjoong’s hands stilled on his waist. He froze. “I’m not trying to,” he said, voice low and hoarse. “I just… don’t want to mess everything up.”
Seonghwa chuckled, turning his head, brushing their cheeks together, lips ghosting close. Feeling the warmth or the trembling breath.
“I know. You won’t,” he said. “You haven’t. Look at me — do I look like I want you to stop?”
And Hongjoong looked. At the flushed cheeks, the red, wet, hot lips, the cute pink tongue slipping between them. At the reddening ears of the man sitting on top of him, like Hongjoong was the comfiest chair in the world.
“You look like the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he stuttered, then buried his face in Seonghwa’s soft hair like he was not expecting himself to say it out loud.
The man whined to the soft praise and turned his whole body, straddling the lap, finally facing Hongjoong.
"Why don’t you tell me more?" Seonghwa asked, biting his lower lip as his fingers absently played with the button of Hongjoong’s shirt. His eyes were wide, expectant, studying the man’s expression. "You barely ever say how you see me."
Hongjoong’s hands slid around Seonghwa’s waist again, holding him gently but firmly, his thumbs pressing into the curve of his sides.
"I see you as the most precious thing in the world," he said quietly. "You’re brilliant at everything you do. You’re talented, you’re funny, you’re incredible, you’re just Seonghwa.”
The words tumbled out clumsily, not nearly enough — and he knew it. Hongjoong looked up at the man sitting in his lap, eyes full of something reverent and helpless. "I’m sorry, I don’t show it well. But it’s true. I think about it all the time."
But for Seonghwa, it was enough already to dissolve into a puddle. Soft words wrapped around him, and suddenly it was his turn to crumble into a shy, awkward mess. He wanted to laugh it off, to glance away and turn this tension into another harmless joke — but then warmth brushed his skin. Fingertips traced his jaw, a gentle touch under his chin guiding his gaze back.
Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong like the world had gone silent, as if nothing outside this moment existed, as if whatever came next outweighed everything else. His expression was unreadable — soft, a little lost, and unbearably vulnerable.
He licked his lips nervously, that familiar, unconscious habit of his. The gesture was soft and achingly human, dizzying Seonghwa’s. Yet it was making Hongjoong’s skin burn and think nonsense.
And then Hongjoong couldn’t hold back anymore. He leaned in, all hesitation shattering, every last reservation collapsing as he pulled Seonghwa into a tender kiss.
The world blinked out. Darkness and light crashing together in one dizzying moment. Time froze and raced all at once. The warmth of soft lips, the heat of breath, the taste. Hongjoong’s mind exploded in a storm of gentleness that left no room for anything else.
Their lips parted, and Seonghwa chuckled breathlessly, the sound warm and boyish after the kiss. His cheeks were flushed, and he looked ready to throw out another teasing remark — until his eyes locked with Hongjoong’s.
That gaze. Dark, steady, pulling him in like gravity. The playful spark had vanished, buried beneath an intensity so sharp it pinned Seonghwa in place, freezing every word on his tongue. The kind of stare that left no room for jokes, that made his throat tighten as he swallowed nervously.
A shiver slid down his spine. He became acutely aware of the weight of Hongjoong’s hands resting firmly on his thighs, as if claiming the ground beneath them, as if reminding Seonghwa exactly where he was.
“Look at you, trembling already, sweet thing.” he tilts Seonghwa’s chin up with two fingers and forces their eyes to meet again. The words hit low in Seonghwa’s stomach, melting there into something hot and liquid, burning through him from the inside.
Hongjoong’s thumb traces a slow circle on the side of Seonghwa’s hip and then squeezes once — firm, possessive. Holding him in place while his lips trailed kisses down his neck, stopping at the collar of the shirt, and biting softly.
A shiver ran through Seonghwa at the surge of heat. He wanted to surrender, to drown in that darkness radiating from Hongjoong. Power and confidence rolled off him in waves — such a sharp contrast to the nervous, fragile air he’d carried just minutes ago.
Hot fingers slid along his thighs, lifting the silk pajama top and brushing up his sides, climbing higher toward his chest, leaving behind a trail of burning, tingling heat.
“Baby, would you like to take it off for me?” Hongjoong whispered, hooking his fingers under the shirt hem and tugging upward. Cool air rushed over Seonghwa’s flushed skin, chasing the heat of those palms and making him shiver.
The shirt was tossed carelessly onto the bed, and in the next moment, Hongjoong leaned in, lips closing around the soft pink bud of the nipple. He suckled playfully, teeth grazing lightly, drawing heavy breaths from Seonghwa first — and then helpless, sweet whimpers.
Seonghwa didn’t even realize when his fingers slid into Hongjoong’s hair, pushing him closer against his chest. His head tilted back, baring more of himself to those intoxicating kisses and bites. Plump soft lips parted, shining with heat, and a feverish blush bloomed across his cheeks.
Hongjoong finally pulled back, lips glistening, his eyes darker now, dangerously focused, like he’d locked onto his prey. Seonghwa let out a shaky whimper, but Hongjoong only smirked and leaned up to brush a slow, taunting kiss against his open mouth before pulling back again.
“Want more?” he asked softly, thumb tracing over Seonghwa’s lower lip until it trembled. He caught the sweet desperation in Seonghwa’s eyes — lost in sensations, flushed, flustered. It looked as if tears might appear any second, and Hongjoong felt like he wanted it more than anything in the world.
He wants to see him writhe in his hands, unable to bear the exquisite pleasure. The most beautiful boy on the planet, begging for more, promising he could take everything Hongjoong gave, all while drooling, squirming, and pressing desperately, trying not to come from the teasing alone.
“Then you’ll take it the way I give it.” Hongjoong breathed, sliding a hand over Seonghwa’s bulge, clearly visible through the thin pyjama pants. A sharp breath escaped him; Seonghwa’s wide-eyed glance met the touch, and then a helpless, shameless moan slipped past as he pressed tighter against the heat of Hongjoong’s palm, “Like a little slut you are.”
Seonghwa shivered, not expecting the degradation to hit him right in the gut. The vision became blurred and unfocused. He grinded shamelessly, nodding to the words.
The other hand moved gently from his thighs to his soft, plump ass, kneading and caressing, tracing the curve up to his lower back.
“You like it, don’t you?” Hongjoong whispered against his skin, voice both sweet and firm. “Me, calling you names.”
His hand caressed a growing bulge through the pants material and Seonghwa’s head fell back with a helpless sound.
“Beg, baby,” Hongjoong breathed against his neck, “tell me you can handle more. Tell me you want me to keep going.”
Seonghwa’s voice caught in a moan, desperate and needy. Every word, every whimper, made Hongjoong smile darkly.
“Yes, please…” Seonghwa’s soft whimper got lost in the heavy breathing.
“Didn’t quite hear that,” Hongjoong said, smiling predatorily, as he tried to pull his hand away from Seonghwa’s groin.
“Please!” Seonghwa nearly sobbed, clutching Hongjoong’s hand as if it were a lifeline, bumping his forehead to the man’s shoulder. He hid his face shyly, cheeks burning red, utterly exposed and trembling. “Could you… please… touch me more…”
“That’s my baby, always so polite and sweet.” The praise struck Seonghwa somewhere deep in his brain — that sharp contrast between gentle words and the biting edge of casual “slut”-dropping sent a dizzying rush through him, as intoxicating as the clash of heat and cold against the skin.
“What do you want, baby? Hm?” Hongjoong whispered into the soft strands of Seonghwa’s hair, placing a light kiss on his temple. “Do you want me to make you cry and whimper like the needy slutty boy you are? Do you want me to ruin your pretty face with your sweet tears? Always so calm and so collected… I know you can whimper and cry just under my hands, begging to touch you.”
He continued to touch the soft, silky skin all over the sweet, pliant body, smiling at every soft whine that escaped from Seonghwa pressed against his shoulder.
“Tell me, baby… you’re so quiet, not so playful anymore, hm? What happened?”
Slowly, he began sliding the pajama pants down, helping Seonghwa lift his hips, holding his ass to guide the pants down, and positioning him right on his lap bridal style, which made the blond man whine and try to hide his face against the man’s chest.
Seonghwa immediately wrapped his arms around Hongjoong’s neck: his face flushed and body heated, pants pushed down to mid-thigh, his arousal standing stiff and slick with precum… And all of it resting on the lap of the fully clothed Hongjoong. The cheeks were burning from the lingering shame, and the throat was tight from the turmoil of other, equally unsettling emotions.
"So beautiful for me," Hongjoong smeared the tiny drop of precum from the tip and licked his stained finger. "Pretty baby."
It was like a live wire had hit Seonghwa. The light touch to his cock sent a jolt through his whole body, making him shudder as if shocked by electricity.
A quiet moan slipped from his lips, muffled against Hongjoong’s neck. "Please… Just… do something about it."
His voice came out noticeably higher, unsteady. He shifted on Hongjoong’s lap, squirming, and finally dared to lift his gaze—only to meet Hongjoong’s piercing, hypnotized stare.
“I’ll decide what to do with you, baby.” There was raw, burning desire in Hongjoong’s eyes. And something else too: something dominant, dark. A mischievous grin tugged at his lips.
“I want to play,” he murmured. “You like attention, right, babe? And I will give it to you—rest assured. But you’ll have to be a good boy for me.”
His hand brushed over Seonghwa’s trembling cock, drawing out an unexpectedly high moan.
“Baby, you’re so sweet, and so loud. Such a pretty attention-seeking whore.”
Soft fingertips brushed over the swollen tip, then wrapped carefully around the base, pulling another sweet, desperate sound from Seonghwa’s throat.
“I wanna ruin you so bad, baby,” he whispered, voice low and sinful. “I want your cock dripping and so hard it hurts—so bad you can’t take it and you’re begging me to let you cum.”
The words sent a shiver down Seonghwa’s spine. His whole body trembled with a desperate, aimless need—searching for something, anything, to grind against. His mind was deliciously blank; every stray thought, every trace of disbelief in what was happening, had been pushed away, drowned in the haze of raw pleasure.
“You have such a cute cock,” Hongjoong praised, his warm hand cupping the erection and making Seonghwa gasp. His palm squeezed agonizingly slowly at the base of his cock and stroked the shaft with an unbearably long motion.
Seonghwa’s breathing hitched, and he squeezed his eyes shut from the intensity, trying to push into the hand around him—hoping the man wouldn’t notice.
“Baby, you’re too impatient. But here, you only take what I give you. And you should ask nicely and cutely when you want more.”
Seonghwa moaned in response, trying to hide his face again, overwhelmed by the rush of sensation.
“Baby, did you hear me? Use your words.” The sudden sternness in the command made Seonghwa suck in a deeper breath and force his empty head to work.
“Y-yes, I heard you,” he whined in a half-moan, half-whisper. “Hongjoong, please… I need more. Please, I need it.”
His doe eyes were glossy with unwilling tears, puffy red lips parted, breath catching in his throat. His hands clung to Hongjoong like his life depended on it.
“Since you asked so nicely, baby…” Hongjoong murmured, a sly smile curling his lips as his tongue darted briefly between his teeth. His hand started to stroke, slow and deliberate, sending Seonghwa’s breath short and uneven, his mind splintering around the sensation of that steady grip on him — and something hard pressing up against his soft ass.
The emotions tore through him, splitting him open from the inside. He leaned in for a kiss, and when his lips finally met Hongjoong’s, it wasn’t gentle like before — it was hungry, demanding, draining every last coherent thought out of him.
The hand left Seonghwa’s throbbing cock and trailed up to his puffy lips, smearing them slightly. Two fingers pressed gently into his mouth, the salty taste exploding on his tongue. The movement of Hongjoong’s hand drew soft, wet noises from Seonghwa, who hummed and slurped messily around the man’s fingers.
“That’s it, baby. Take it, make it nice and wet. Your pretty lips look so good around my fingers — I bet they’d look even prettier around me.”
The thought made Seonghwa choke and roll his eyes unconsciously.
Another Hongjoong’s hand covered his dick and started stroking mercilessly.
The wet soft fingers pushing into his mouth. The overwhelming stinging taste of his own precum, the steady confident movements of man’s hands... It made the vivid image appear right before his eyes, impossible to ignore. In this fantasy, he was on his knees for so long it hurt, his body bruised and trembling. His body tensed, cheeks burning, as a heated, insistent pressure brushed against his lips. All he wanted was to be used, his head fucked senseless. He imagined himself surrendering completely to the sensations, to lose himself to the man. In this image, he parted his lips slowly, leaning into the touch, and Hongjoong didn’t hesitate, shoving the dick right inside his mouth, making the man obey, choke and gag, forcing the small tears. Oh, he would be happy to cry and sob on that dick he felt right behind his ass right now…
A sudden orgasm shook him, his body convulsing in the firm hands. He was splashing all over himself unexpectedly hard, Hongjoong’s hand milking him dry, making it all feel ten times sharper.
“Did you just cum from just imagining me fucking your mouth?” Hongjoong’s voice was like a guiding light in this foggy state. “What a good boy.”
The sigh of adoration from Hongjoong’s mouth was like a warm blanket, cocooning Seonghwa in pure bliss.
The hand on the softening dick didn’t stop, no matter how hard he tried to squirm away from the overstimulation.
“Oh, baby, no, we cannot stop yet. I know it hurts, but just one more time for me, okay?” The softest tone was soothing, but the words… It was as overwhelming as the motions of Hongjoong’s hand.
Fuck.
Fuckity fuck.
Seonghwa wanted to scream from the overwhelming feelings. He could not. It was impossible. He needed a pause.
But he was not getting it.
It really hurt, but it felt so damn good. Seonghwa just lost himself in the waves of stinging pain and pleasure.
That aching need to be ruined, to melt into pure bliss… it felt so right, and Seonghwa couldn’t resist it. He licked his dry, parted lips and let out a soft whine.
“But if you really want me to stop…” The hand lingered away slowly, teasing.
“No!” The answer came faster than Seonghwa expected from himself, followed by a low chuckle from the man.
Every nerve was burning from the intensity of the touches. Seonghwa was wiggling and whimpering, not knowing whether he wanted to lean in or hide from the hot palms and soft, feathery fingers. He wrapped his arms tighter around Hongjoong’s neck, pulling him closer, trying to melt into him, to feel the man’s body against his own.
“The baby is so greedy,” warm laughter brushed against Seonghwa’s ear, sending shivers down his spine. Seonghwa realized he wasn’t just holding his breath—his grip was tight, as if holding onto his life, his eyes squeezed shut, a hot lonely tear running down his flushed cheeks.
“Joongie…” A tiny sob escaped his lips along with his hips going up in search of more contact.
“Yes, sweet thing? Remember to ask nicely,” Hongjoong’s voice was cooing while his hand was doing absolutely unholy things with his trembling flushed cock.
The order settled tightly in Seonghwa’s empty brain. He should be the best boy; he would beg as much as Joongie wanted him to. He would be the cutest playtoy, nicely drooling and leaking, doing everything he was told to.
“Could you please… fuck me, Joongie?” The dark glossy eyes went up to meet Hongjoong’s, showing the blankness of the mind. Soft whimpers and tiny sobs paired with a pathetic “Please?”
Hongjoong suddenly stood up from the chair and pulled Seonghwa into his arms. In the next moment, Seonghwa found himself on the bed, face buried in the pillows, Hongjoong’s hot weight grounding him. He shoved Seonghwa flat into the mattress, grinding his hips down into his ass. Seonghwa whined, muffled into the sheets, drooling, his fists clenching on the sheets. The fabric of Hongjoong’s clothes was like sandpaper to his hot skin. Irritating. He needed to feel the other man’s body, the heat of the bare skin.
“Take it off, please, I don’t like it,” Seonghwa whimpered, and in mere seconds he finally felt the overwhelming skin-to-skin contact. It was too much and not enough at the same time. Hongjoong was peppering his neck with soft open-mouthed kisses, tearing high-pitched sounds from him.
Seonghwa tried to free his hand and fumble around the nightstand, searching for something.
“There’s lube in the drawer,” the words were muffled and diluted with impatient sobs.
He heard the sound of the drawer opening and a low humming sound from the man. It made him remember that he kept several obscene toys there along with the lube bottle. The thought made his cheeks redden even more.
“My baby loves to play with himself, I see.” A man’s laugh was followed by the loud pop of the bottle cap. “Let me play with you today, will you?”
Hongjoong’s warm fingers traced down his spine, stopping right on his hole. Seonghwa’s entire body shuddered; he moaned loudly at the contact, uncontrollable and raw. He felt the lube spilling right on the spot and the firm fingers pressing slowly against his entrance. Caressing and petting in slow circular motions, teasing and making him want to slip back. He let out a frustrated whine, instinctively pressing his ass down on the man’s fingers.
“Easy, eager boy,” the touches became more deliberate and firm. “We don’t want it to hurt, right?”
“I wanna… Ughn.” The whimpers were raw and needy; Seonghwa’s body was pathetically tossing and turning in search of intensity. “I wanna feel it, please…”
One finger slowly pressed in, making Seonghwa moan at the tight entrance sting. Hongjoong began stretching him slowly but persistently, overwhelming the heated body even more and making it sweetly tremble. Seonghwa’s sighs grew sharper and his moans louder; each slow, rhythmic movement made him mewl. Hongjoong added a second finger and scissored him, making Seonghwa agonizingly impatient from the stretch. He tried to sway back, and a sudden sharp thrust of fingers made his legs weak. He dropped down onto the bed with his chest pressed against it. The deep thrusts made his mind go blank and his eyes roll up in sweet bliss. Seonghwa’s body was literally trembling from the fingering as he felt the second climax approaching.
“No, n—” The muffled sobs were paired with his hips bucking up, not exactly coinciding with the words. “Harder, please…”
Hongjoong slowed the thrusts down, adding a third finger and stretching him to his limit. He put his other hand on the man’s nape and held him there.
“You will cum on my dick, so you better hold it, babe.” The rough voice made Seonghwa’s gut tighten, and he tried to hold still. Hot tears wet the sheets.
The fingers disappeared, and it made him whine from the empty feeling. It almost hurt. He needed to be full and properly fucked. He wiggled his plump ass and heard Hongjoong giggle at the sight. A sharp slap followed, and the pleasant buzzing went all over his body. He impatiently wiggled again and finally—thank God—felt the hot hardness of the dick on his hole. The previous stretch seemed not enough, but Seonghwa didn’t give any fucks in the world. He pressed back, trying to feel the burning stretch in its fullest.
Hongjoong's fingers wrapped around his thighs with a strength he barely expected, and a stretching pressure turned into a mind-melting stretch. The burn turned Seonghwa’s brain into mushed potato, the only thing he was feeling in the world was this agonizing feeling of a hot, thick dick making him full. The man stopped, taking his time, and gave a moment for Seonghwa to adjust. It was a wise decision, but Seonghwa really did not care. He swung back and tried to take it deeper, making himself act to his limit.
“Fuck, just move,” he hissed and squicked when Hongjoong responded with a loud slap on his plush ass.
“Where did your cute little pleading go?” low hum followed by a long slow thrust, “Commanding already?”
Seonghwa shuddered and whined desperately.
“Such a pillow princess,” another thrust, making a blond man almost fall and scream from the burning need. Hongjoong did not hurry, but his voice was raspy and broken, like he was holding it for so long.
The moves became faster, deeper, and more erratic. It made Seonghwa gasp and whine at every one of them, making him even more eager. He started to swing back with a new force, finally feeling just the right spot being hammered.
Seonghwa’s fingers dug deep into the bed and he felt tears bubbling in his shut eyes. He felt so wrecked, the saliva was puddling under his chin making the blanket wet and the precum was dropping from the fully hard red dick. He was so ready to cum the second time, he just needed a little push to the edge.
“Please, I'm gonna…” The whimpering made the man move faster, hitting the spot just right and cum inside with a low growl. The fingers on the hips were definitely to cause the bruises. Seonghwa sobbed and came the second time, feeling the hot mess being made inside him.
The hot, sweaty body pressed Seonghwa to the bed, making him weak in his knees. He lowered himself down, buried under the man hugging him from behind, still not pulling out.
“It was freaking hot.” The muffled Seonghwa’s groan came through the unsteady breathing. Hongjoong giggled shyly and pulled out slowly, a trickle of cum leaking from Seonghwa's stretched hole. He flipped them so Seonghwa is draped over his chest snuggly, nailing them to the bed. Seonghwa nuzzles into the crook of Hongjoong's neck, his breath coming in soft, contented sighs, legs tangled with Hongjoong's, eyes in a soft haze. Hongjoong runs his fingers through Seonghwa's damp hair, murmuring, 'Hope you will not be angry with me for this mess”.
Seonghwa giggles with closed eyes, tracing lazy circles on Hongjoong's skin, whispering back, “You mean my ass or the whole situation?”
“Both, I guess…” Hongjoong sighed and hugged the man’s thin waist, “We can talk about everything later, you know. I’m really sorry, and I think like you… I guess.”
“You could just talk to me and not to perform all the San-related drama, you know?” Seonghwa turned up his eyes and got a soft little peck on the forehead. Hongjoong’s hand rested possessively on Seonghwa's belly, thumb stroking soothing patterns. Seonghwa interlacing them and bringing them to his lips for tiny kisses.
“Yeah, I think I’m just bad at communication.”