Archive of Our Own

Have I got a soft touch?
Is my radar that off?

It's seeming
That you're dreaming
With my eyes
But why protest
When your success
Is my prize

Oh, brother! Give me a helping hand
Oh, brother! Tell me you understand

Chris hadn’t accepted where this was going until this very moment, but as his back hits the door, it clicks. And he wonders what kind of neurological breakdown he must have gone through to think it could be avoided.

They’d been on set all day, and it hadn’t been an easy one. He usually finds filming MVs rather fun, with all the special effects and little details they hide everywhere in it. But Red Lights isn’t your typical video. There’s no adventure, no superpowers, no magic. It’s only him, Hyunjin, beds and a table dressed with a crimson cloth. It’s only them and the song and the choreography; everything is heavy and intimate and it gets difficult at times not to forget about all the people around. The back dancers, the director, the staff. All the touching, the heavy sounds vibrating through them, the dancing, it had been getting to them rather embarrassingly. The one thing that had saved them from people around them noticing was the fact that they were doing pauses in between takes to review or change this or that detail, and the fact that they had a good deal of parts where they were separated. Still, it had been a relief when they had been done filming all the parts with the white suits, way more revealing in case of an untimely boner.

But today, they had decided to wrap it up, and they had worked at a much faster pace, leaving them fewer opportunities to cool down, while filming very heated moments. The scene at the table, where they had been staring fixedly at each other, that had Christopher discover what effect it could have on him to be the recipient of Hyunjin’s dark, smouldering gaze. The moment when he had held Hyunjin at arm’s length while lying down, and felt every muscle in his back shifting and hardening while he was moving above him. The tug of the chains. He’d been very, very grateful for the black, more lenient outfits. By the end of the day, he was too turned on to think clearly, and so was Hyunjin. Back at the studio, when they had gone into the locker room to get changed, Hyunjin had stood unmoving, pressing his face and hands against the cool, tiled wall.

Chris was worried. Obviously. He should have left it alone, seeing where they are now. But at the time he just couldn’t have, not when Hyunjin was so unsettled, so he had tried his best to smother his own arousal and walked up to his partner, reaching out for his shoulder and speaking to him softly.

“Are you okay?” He asked, making Hyunjin turn around to look at him. “I’m sorry if I crossed your boundaries, Hyunjin. Some of that stuff was kind of inappropriate.”

But Hyunjin had shaken his head, looking desperate for something. Something he likely wasn’t finding in Chris seeing how sad he was looking. It had been that sadness that had gotten to him, more even than the words falling from Hyunjin’s mouth and the hand reaching for his own.

“You didn’t cross anything. You didn’t do anything that I…”

His voice caught in his throat, and he wouldn’t have finished that sentence even if Chris hadn’t taken a step toward him, cupped his chin and pressed a kiss to his soft, plush lips.

Idiot, idiot, stupid dumb cretin!

What had he expected? He doesn’t know. Not for Hyunjin to melt on the spot and kiss back so sweetly, that’s for sure.

“We can’t stay here, we need to go,” Chris had said, breaking up the kiss, because it was true, and Hyunjin had taken a step back and gotten out of his costume and jumped into the shower in record time. They’d never gotten to a car this fast, and only then had Chris realised that his excuse to stop had likely — and very understandably — been received as an invitation.

He spent the whole ride telling himself that they couldn’t do this, that he had to tell Hyunjin that, trying to find the words to say it without hurting him, especially since he’d kissed him first. He tried to catch Hyunjin’s gaze to give him an apologetic smile or something. But Hyunjin spent the ride looking at anything but him.

Chris failed to find the right words to tell him because there are no right words. He’s a dick. It was a dick move. Hyunjin will be mad and Chris will just take it and ask for forgiveness. He resolves to tell Hyunjin that the second they pass the door to their bedroom.

But when the door closes and he turns to him, it’s already too late. Hyunjin is crowding him against it, and Chris is reminded that he might be the leader and physically stronger, but Hyunjin is still taller than him and that’s enough to take him by surprise.

Now Hyunjin is kissing him, pressing himself against him, and it’s very difficult to remember why they shouldn’t. They’re both adults, consenting, single. He’s horny as fuck, and Hyunjin’s arousal is digging into his groin. He’s clearly into it and just as hungry, so why should Chris deny them both?

Chris loses his mind. He shoves his tongue into Hyunjin’s mouth, making him moan in pleasure and gratitude, hands fisting and pulling, Hyunjin rolling his hips against him in a practised move that’s going to give a lot of choreographies a whole new depth. It feels too fucking good.

It’s only when he feels warm, calloused hands on his skin that he realises that Hyunjin hasn’t just been randomly pulling at his clothes. His jersey is half unbuttoned and hanging over his pants, and Hyunjin is touching him, and somehow that snaps him out of it.

“Hyunjin, stop,” he finally manages to say.

It takes a second for it to register, but Hyunjin still doesn’t need to be told twice. Blinking, he takes a step back. His hair is a mess, his lips are shiny and red from kissing, his face flushed. It’s such a good look on him.

“Do you want to go on the bed?” He asks, a little breathless, and Chris hates himself for what he’s about to say. He shakes his head.

“No, Jinnie, I just mean we need to stop. We can’t.”

And there it is, that hurt look he didn’t want to see. Hyunjin looks surprised and shocked, as if Chris just slapped him.

“You kissed me,” he says, and it doesn’t sound accusatory. It sounds vulnerable and maybe just a little hopeful. Please don’t take it back, is what it sounds like.

“I know and I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s just not right, is all.”

Hyunjin shoots him an incredulous look.

“Not right for who?”

“For you,” Chris answers earnestly.

To his surprise, Hyunjin doesn’t protest or try to convince him otherwise. He simply laughs bitterly, which is a thousand times worse.

“Oh, come on, Hyung. Please. If you don’t want me, just tell me that. Don’t make up excuses.”

“I’m not,” Chris stiffens, stung. “I’m your leader, that wouldn’t be ethical or moral. My job is to protect you.”

It clearly wasn’t the right thing to say, and Chris can only hope that nobody was passing in the corridor because Hyunjin yells at that, making him startle.

“I’m not asking for your protection!”

And before he can say or do anything, Hyunjin’s slender, bony fingers are gripping the front of his shirt, and he rips it open. Buttons pop, scattering on the floor. One of them hits Chris in the chest while Hyunjin stands there, shirtless, beautiful and terribly upset.

“What’s the point of looking like this if I can’t even get laid, Chan? Tell me! What are you protecting me from?! Who’s gonna fuck me if you don’t?”

Thankfully, his voice is getting strained by emotion, so the chance of someone overhearing is small, and Chris goes to him.

“I’m sorry, Jinnie,” he whispers, hugging him, and Hyunjin grabs his jersey, pushing his face into his shoulder. “I’m sorry, but that wouldn’t be fair.”

“Tell me you don’t want me!” Hyunjin growls. “Don’t give me that righteous bullshit!”

“But it’s true,” Chan insists, pushing him a little to be able to look him in the eyes, and trying his best not to look down at his exposed chest and abs.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Hyunjin breathes out.

He takes a step back, and for a second, Chris thinks it’s over, but Hyunjin stares into his eyes and slowly takes off his shirt.

It’s nothing Chris hasn’t seen before, but that hard, toned body, these muscled shoulders, make his mouth water, and he swallows hard.

“Tell me you don’t want me,” Hyunjin says.

“That’s not relevant.”

The words hurt. Hyunjin throws his shirt on the floor between them, a provocation. Chris doesn’t react to it, even though it makes his stomach clench.

“Say it, Channie-Hyung. Either you want me or you don’t, but stop making shitty excuses.”

Chris shakes his head.

“I’m your leader, Hyunjin,” he repeats. “It wouldn’t be moral, it wouldn’t be ethical.”

“Bullshit. Tell me you don’t want me.”

Chris can’t. He should; he can tell that it would put an end to this. Things would be awkward for a few days, and that would be the end of it. But he can’t. He can’t lie. Hyunjin looks at him, incredulous and disappointed.

“You’re a coward,” he states, looking like he can barely believe what he’s saying.

Chris stiffens as if something just bit him.

“Take that back.”

His voice is low, bordering on threatening. He hates it; he doesn’t talk to his members like this. Never. But Hyunjin crosses his arms and stares at him defiantly.

“Why would I? It’s the truth.”

“Hyunjin, stop. Right now.”

“What? What are you gonna do about it?”

He does that because he knows you’d never hurt him. Don’t give into it, he doesn’t even mean it; he’s just trying to get to you.

“Either you want me or you don’t. In any case, you don’t have the balls to say so.”

“I’m warning you, Hyunjin. Stop talking.”

Shrug. A smirk. Chris should fuck that mouth; that would shut him up for good.

“Make me. Or are you too much of a coward for that, Ch-“

Hyunjin’s back hits the wall, and so does the back of his head, getting a pained groan out of him. Chris doesn’t apologise. He pushes one thigh between Hyunjin’s legs, seeking the hard bulge inside his pants and finding it. Hyunjin gasps, pushing back, and for the second time tonight, Chris shoves his tongue into his mouth. It’s neither sweet nor soft, and yet Hyunjin moans in delight, wrapping his arms around his neck.

You’re gonna like this even more, Chris thinks to himself as he shifts and grabs the back of Hyunjin’s thighs, lifting him up. His back and head hit the wall once more, but the way he wraps himself, arms and legs, around Chris’s body, clearly conveys his approval. When he pulls away and turns his head to the side to catch his breath, Chris takes the chance to kiss the side of his face, to drag his tongue along his jawline, tasting the salt of his skin. He kisses that neck, resisting the urge to suck a hickey there, even though the thought of Hyunjin spending a week hiding love bruises makes his cock swell. Instead, he goes as low as he can get in this position and bites the shoulder he meets there. Hard.

Hyunjin cries out, but judging by the way his own dick twitches at that, Chris can tell he’s not complaining. Still, that won’t do.

He drops Hyunjin back, slow enough that he has time to find his footing, and they face each other. The dancer is blushing and out of breath, saliva glistening on his skin, looking at Chris with dark, soft eyes. No traces of animosity left. Oh, so now he’s cowed, right? Chris reaches out and holds his jaw none too gently.

“We can’t be heard. You’re gonna be quiet for me?”

Hyunjin nods eagerly, and Chris lets go.

“Good. I hope you have stuff we can use because you can insult my whole family tree, I won’t fuck you dry.”

Hyunjin disappears but a second into the bathroom, and comes back with a round, white container. Coconut oil. Chris throws it on the bed, where it bounces and stops against the wall, and grabs Hyunjin, pulling him in again. The kiss is slower, less messy, and Chris lets his hands roam along Hyunjin’s body, so hungry for his touch he arches into his every caress. He says nothing this time when hands come fiddling with the front of his jersey, before pushing it off his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor.

“So hot,” Hyunjin sighs heavily as he runs his hands across the skin of Chris’s chest. “Chan-”

“No.”

Hyunjin blinks and stops, taken aback, and looks at him questioningly.

“If we’re gonna do this, I need to clarify one thing.”

Hyunjin nods, expectant. Chris leans in and nibbles at his earlobe, making him shiver.

“Your leader can’t and won’t fuck you, Hyunjin,” he whispers into that ear. “I will. There’s no Chan, no Channie-hyung. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Hyunjin whines, that hot breath against his sensitive skin making him too dizzy to really get what Chris is asking. “No. I mean — how…?”

“Call me by my name. Say it for me, Jinnie.”

He parts and watches, expectantly. Hyunjin swallows hard.

“Christopher,” he says, tasting it on his tongue, feeling his mouth shaping it.

Chris smiles at the sound of it.

“That’s good. Chris is fine, too.”

“Chris,” Hyunjin tries. “Chris, Christopher…”

Chris is kissing his neck again, and his kisses are full of teeth, and the words falling from Hyunjin’s lips are turning into moans again.

“God, you’re a loudmouth,” Chris chides him, before pushing him onto the bed. “Always thought you’d be.”

“You’ve been thinking of me?”

Chris is towering over him from his standing position, admiring the body laid in front of him, ripe for his taking. Hyunjin looks at him from under half-lidded eyes.

“Thinking about fucking you?”

Hyunjin nods. Chris leans in and undoes the front of his pants.

“What do you think, Jinnie? I’m only human. I’ve been wanting to do this for years.”

He pulls the trousers off, leaving Hyunjin only in his Versace boxer shorts. There’s a wet spot at the top of the bulge sitting there, and he brushes his fingertip to it once, before pressing down. The fabric glides against the skin underneath, and Hyunjin whimpers under the touch, his back arching off the bed.

“You said you’d be quiet for me,” Chris scolds him. “You really need to stop making noise if you don’t want everyone to hear you.”

“Maybe I want everyone to hear,” Hyunjin shoots back. “Maybe I’d like everyone to know you fucked me.”

Chris gets one hand over Hyunjin’s mouth right as he flattens the other over his hard-on, finally giving it a good, actual rub and muffling Hyunjin’s cry of pleasure at the same time.

“You’re insufferable. Turn around.”

His voice is firm; it’s clear he won’t take no for an answer, but Hyunjin still pouts at him. Petulant. Too gorgeous to be denied, or so he thinks.

“I like looking at you.”

“And I need you to shut up, Jinnie, I’m not kidding. So either you bite into a pillow or we’re done.”

And right this instant, Chris would still be capable of acting on it. He likely won’t in five minutes from now, but Hyunjin doesn’t need to know that. Throwing him a reproachful glare, the dancer turns around. Chris helps him out of his boxers and to move the pillows around the bed. One Hyunjin can hug and shove his face into, and one he can rest his hips on, giving his lower body a little lift. Chris moves him around as well, Hyunjin docile and pliant as he rearranges his limbs, folding one of his legs, parting the other.

When he’s done, Hyunjin’s ass is on perfect display, conveniently raised up, and he can see its cleft. It’s a darker shade than the rest of his body, a pinkish brown, and Chris runs a light finger along it, a mere, experimental touch that makes Hyunjin mewl into the pillow. Satisfied, Chris stabilises himself, his knee digging into the mattress, raises his hand and, without a blink or a second of hesitation, delivers a resounding slap on Hyunjin’s left buttock.

The noise would likely be covered by Hyunjin’s surprised, loud cry if it wasn’t muffled by the pillow. He raises up on his elbows, panting harshly.

“What was that for?”

He’s not looking at Chris, who’s grabbing the reddened cheek.

“For being a disrespectful, stubborn brat.”

“You jerk.”

“Careful, mate, or you’ll get another one.”

Silence. Chris raises an eyebrow.

“Would you like that, Hyunjin?”

He’s grabbing both of his asscheeks now, and he’s not being gentle about it. Hyunjin’s face falls back into the pillow.

“Shut up,” comes the muffled answer, and Chris smiles and leans down on him, pressing a kiss where it hurts. Fuck, that ass should be insured and have its own security team. To think he’s getting to have it all to himself…

“How well did you clean up, Hyunjinnie? Tell me the truth, I will know.”

Hyunjin lifts his face to answer again.

“Took extra care,” he simply says.

“Mmmmmmh.” 

Chris presses an extra kiss to the place where the hit landed. And then another. He opens his mouth, his hands parting Hyunjin’s ass open as he squeezes it, enjoying it, biting lightly and sucking on the skin of the inner parts, where it’s more sensitive. When he finally drags his tongue along his crack, though, Hyunjin doesn’t only moan. He bucks into the bed and fists the pillow. Chris distinctly hears a “Fuck!”

“We’ll get there,” he assures him before actually going down on him.

Hyunjin either completely forgets to be quiet or decides that the pillow is enough, because it’s an unending flow of broken cries and moans that start coming from him. He moves like crazy under Chris’s mouth, rolling his hips.

“Hold still,” Chris growls.

“Fuck off,” Hyunjin whines, because apparently he’s feeling self-conscious now.

Chris presses his tongue against his rim, pushing and dipping, and Hyunjin’s voice breaks.

“Chan!” He calls, and Chris gives his burning asscheek a punishing squeeze, making him gasp.

“What did I tell you?”

“Chris,” Hyunjin corrects himself instantly. “Chris, don’t stop, Chris, please—“

He’s melting under Chris’s mouth and tongue, humping the pillow he’s laid on, seeking friction. Letting go of his buttcheek, Chris slides one hand under his hips, which Hyunjin lifts reflexively to accommodate it, and wraps it around his throbbing dick. Hyunjin cries weakly.

“Fuck it,” Chris commands him, in a voice that leaves no room for discussion. “Fuck my hand, Hyunjinnie.”

Hyunjin is too happy to obey, his hard length feeling like silky stone in Chris’s fist, pressing back into his face as he moves. He doesn’t last a minute.

Chris pulls back and wipes his mouth as he straightens up to admire his handiwork. Hyunjin is clenching the pillow like he’s about to rip it apart, his skin glistening with sweat, muscles taunted hard. He isn’t big but he’s strong, he’s got steel in his body, and all of it is showing right now, revealing itself only for Christopher’s eyes as he shakes and bucks. Chris feels his release wetting his fingers, ruining the pillow. They’ll have to do something about it. Later. For now, he relaxes his fingers slowly, as Hyunjin finishes and comes to a stop.

He withdraws his hand slowly, cautiously. Hyunjin falls back on the bed, head turned to the side against the pillow, so he can finally breathe freely. Which he does, ragged and wounded.

“You okay?” Chris asks, picking up Hyunjin’s discarded boxer to wipe his hand.

“Hyung,” he says, and Chris doesn’t correct him. “That was amazing.”

Chris smiles like he hasn’t smiled all night. All week. All year. He’s glad Hyunjin isn’t looking at him right now.

“Are you feeling better now?” He asks, and to his surprise, Hyunjin moves. Pushing himself off the bed, he turns to look at Chris. His face looks the same it does after a whole ass show, water spraying included.

“Yeah,” he says, sounding defiant. “We’re not done though.”

Chris doesn’t answer this. He only watches as Hyunjin moves about the bed with slow, lazy motions. He looks a bit like a very large cat, and this impression gets even stronger when he sits on the edge of the bed, looking at Chris from under, his eyes stopping on his crotch. He licks his lips. Chris’s eyes flicker to the pillows, crumpled and wet. Then back at Hyunjin’s face, still looking at him like he wants to play, but in a slightly threatening way. He tilts his chin up, letting his fingers dig into his cheeks a little, making his lips part. He finds himself thinking again that he should fuck that mouth. Hyunjin looks like he’d enjoy it.

“I have to ask,” he says, feigning a calm he doesn’t feel. His heart is hammering and his own neglected dick is throbbing achingly. “You’ve ever been fucked before?”

Hyunjin’s gaze hardens for a split second, so briefly that Chris would have missed it if he’d looked away at all.

“Yeah.”

“You liked it?”

“Yeah.”

“Mind my asking who?”

Hyunjin shrugs.

“Do I know him?”

At this, he snorts.

“Let’s just say you’re not my first Aussie, Christopher.”

Chris’s eyes widen, and he lets go of him.

“Felix?”

“Surprised that we managed to keep it from you?”

Hyunjin looks a little smug. It’s Chris’s turn to shrug.

“I guess, yeah. But mostly I wouldn’t have thought he was the type.”

This time Hyunjin laughs out loud.

“He’s full of surprises, our sunshine. Versatile in more ways than he lets on. What’s the matter?”

Chris looks annoyed, and he rubs the back of his neck.

“Are you really sure about this, Jinnie? I don’t want to cause any drama and I know Felix. He wouldn’t have had sex with you if he hadn’t been in love with you.”

“Neither would I. Who do you think I am?”

“You’re here. Are you in love with me?”

Hyunjin stiffens.

“I don’t know what you’re implying, Hyung. Felix and I had a thing. It was a long time ago. I wouldn’t be here with you if it wasn’t over. We dated. We fucked. We broke up. We got over it. And I’d rather not talk about it right now.”

“Sorry. I won’t bring it up again.”

“Thank you.”

As if to put an end to the conversation, Hyunjin reaches out and hooks his fingers in Chris’s belt, pulling him closer. Close enough that he can press his face against his front, where Chris knows he can feel his heat through the thick fabric of his denim pants.

“All for me, is it?” He asks, circling and squeezing the back of his thighs. Chris slips a hand through his hair and slowly fists it. Hyunjin’s eyes glaze over.

“You still want it?”

Hyunjin nods slowly, parting his lips and letting his tongue peek out. His goddamn tongue. It’s been driving Chris crazy for years.

“We’re gonna need to do something, then. Because if I do it like that, it’ll be over before you even get started.”

Hyunjin smiles and brushes his lips to the hard bulge, and while Chris can barely feel his touch at all, it’s still enough to make his breath hitch. He takes Hyunjin’s head away from him, admiring the way his eyelashes flutter at the pull on his scalp.

“I’m saving your mouth for later,” he says. “Lay down.”

Hyunjin does as he’s told, shoving the dirty pillows away, spreading himself all across the bed. Chris looks at him as he finishes undressing. The hard, strong legs, the narrow hips, the drying cum sticking to his trimmed pubic hair, the flat chest, the nipples that he now knows are the same colour as the skin in the most secret folds of his body. His teasing, sinful mouth. His dark eyes, burning like embers as he watches oh-so-closely, Chris’s hardness finally being freed from its tight confines. They sigh in unison when he pushes his pants and underwear down. Hyunjin doesn’t move but oh, is he looking, and Chris doesn’t think he’s ever seen such hungry eyes in his whole life. He almost wants to laugh at his past self for ever thinking there was a chance that Hyunjin would be assuaged with Chris getting him off. He’s definitely not backing down, not with the way he’s looking at Chris’s cock like he’s been waiting for it his whole life.

“You’re a work of art, Christopher,” he says, and there’s definitely something of the artist in his eyes. Critical, appreciative. Chris refrains from the urge to shrug or roll his eyes. At least his body is fine, that he knows. It should be, knowing the amount of work he puts into it.

“What was that?” Comes Hyunjin’s inquisitive voice, making him realise that he had, actually, been looking at his face. Shit.

“Nothing.”

“Oh, no. Not to me. Look at me.”

Chris doesn’t. He looks away even more resolutely. God fucking dammit. There’s shuffling on the bed, and then Hyunjin’s hand is on his face, cupping it, gently but firmly making him face him. His eyes are soft and sad and just a little angry.

“Tell me you haven’t been paying attention to that stupid shit haters say on social media.”

Chris snorts.

“As if you don’t.”

“We’re not talking about me. Look at me, Channie-hyung.”

“What did I-“

“Screw that.”

Hyunjin is up on his knees, on the bed, and Chris is trying hard not to just turn away and leave.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, and Chris does shrug this time.

“Yeah, because I’m naked. Nobody ever says that about my face, Jinnie.”

“I do. You’re gorgeous. From here—” Chris feels long, warm fingers circling his painful dick, and he almost wants to cry in relief at the touch. “to there.”

His other hand, still cupping his cheek, shifts just enough to drag a thumb across his lips.

“Beautiful,” he repeats in a whisper. “All of you.”

Chris lets himself be drawn into a kiss, and then he lets himself be drawn onto the bed, on all fours above Hyunjin. He’s trembling with pent-up arousal, feeling like he’s about to come any second now, but Hyunjin’s hand on him remains infuriatingly still.

“Hyung,” Hyunjin says as he breaks the kiss, pulling Chris’s head gently down against his shoulder. “Do you want to come?”

Chris stiffens, and Hyunjin’s free hand starts stroking his back in a sweet, soothing way. Fuck. He hates being this vulnerable.

But also, nothing really matters at the moment but that unmoving hand around him.

“Yes.”

“Should I make you?”

What do you think?

Chris nods. Hyunjin presses a kiss into his hair and keeps on caressing his back. But his other hand starts moving, stroking gently.

“You’re beautiful,” Hyunjin murmurs as Chris tries his best not to whine, and fails. “You’re beautiful the way you are, and it doesn’t matter whether or not you fit their stupid standards. I do, and they still hate on me. Let go, Channie-Hyung. Let go for me. I got you, let go…”

Chris lets go. His orgasm hits him, so hard he wonders how long it’s been, if it’s even normal for it to be that strong. Hyunjin holds him through it, grounding him. Chris fists the sheets and groans, vaguely aware that he’s shooting his load all over Hyunjin’s stomach, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t even care when, once he’s done and Hyunjin has withdrawn his hand, he collapses on top of him.

He stays there, breathless and shivering, his heart beating so hard he knows Hyunjin feels it against his own chest. After a moment of reflection, he decides to give himself one full minute of this, and lets himself go in Hyunjin’s embrace. He snuggles him, breathes him in, and lets him stroke his back some more while he waits for his heartbeat to stop thundering.

“You look like you needed this as much as I did,” Hyunjin finally says, and Chris sighs heavily.

“You’re not wrong.”

He lets himself roll to the side, so he’s lying beside Hyunjin rather than on top of him, and Hyunjin sits up to look for tissues in the bedside table. Luckily, there’s a pack in the drawer, and he uses it to clean himself up. Chris watches him as he does, and then turns to him, as if hesitating. When he says nothing, he reaches out and cleans him up too, before lying back down, facing him. His cheeks are dusted with pink.

“I love you, you know that?” He says, and Chris opens wide eyes. “I really do. And I’m sorry I threw myself at you the way I did, it was out of line. I made… this, your problem, and I had no right to. You’re amazing. You’re strong and brave and smart and you do everything you can for us. I don’t know what got into me, to think I could make my… my urges your responsibility on top of everything else. I apologise for the way I behaved and the things I said.”

Chris reaches out and takes his hand. Hyunjin looks happy and links their fingers together.

“You were right, in a sense. I was scared. I’m always scared to let go,” he confesses. “I was being a coward.”

Hyunjin shakes his head.

“You were saying no, that should have been enough. I shouldn’t have insisted. And… I know I made it sound like I’d take anyone but I want you to know… It’s not true. It couldn’t have been just anyone. I wanted you. Because I trust you and I love you and I know you care about me.”

Chris smirks.

“What you’re saying is that you wouldn’t have just anyone, but only a member of the group?”

Hyunjin’s face turns very pink.

“I love you all. But I like you best, Christopher.”

His eyes are shining brightly as he says the words, and Chris feels his own sting as well. He blinks the burn away and squeezes Hyunjin’s hand.

“Thanks, Jinnie. It means a lot to me.”

The dancer smiles at him, and sits up.

“Where are you going?” He asks when Hyunjin moves toward the edge of the bed, his hand closing on his wrist reflexively. Hyunjin smiles at him a little awkwardly.

“I’m going to sleep in my bed.”

Chris blinks.

“I thought we weren’t done.”

The awkward smile widens.

“I don’t want you to do things you didn’t want to do in the first place. I don’t want you to have to dissociate to give me what I want. I had no right to demand any of that from you. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed every second of it and I do feel better. But you were right, in a way. It’s not right, and it’s not fair. To any of us.”

He tries again to get down from the bed, but Chris bolts up, holding him back once more.

“Please don’t?”

Hyunjin throws him an interrogative look.

“I know what I said. But I wasn’t being honest, and I’m sorry. I do want you. I also love you all, and I like you best too. I was just too scared to let it get to me. I didn’t want to just fuck you, Hyunjinnie. Because I care too much.”

He scoots closer to the stunned dancer, who’s looking at him with wide eyes and parted lips.

“I don’t wanna fuck you. But I want to make love with you. If you want to.”

By the time he’s done talking, he’s close enough to see Hyunjin’s pupils, and the way they blow out at his last words. He hears the tiny, punched-out sound in his throat. He sees his lips part — his beautiful, beautiful lips.

“God, I adore your mouth,” Chris says before leaning in.

It’s strange. It’s shy. Chris has been unceremoniously and repeatedly shoving his tongue in that mouth in the past hour, yet there he is, keeping it superficial and waiting for Hyunjin to invite him in.

“Chan—Chris,” Hyunjin murmurs, correcting himself as he kisses back so, so sweetly.

“Call me what you want, Jinnie. It’s okay.”

He cradles the back of Hyunjin’s head and deepens the kiss slowly, tentatively. Hyunjin welcomes him in, just as sweet, as if tasting him and, deciding that he likes him, wraps his arms around Chris’s neck. His hair tickles Chris’s fingers when he moves without breaking the kiss, stepping down from the bed and guiding Chris to follow him until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Oh God,” he breathes when Hyunjin climbs into his lap, his perfect, firm butt resting on his thighs. He feels his smile against his lips and kisses it deeper, circling his waist with his hands before letting them slide down to cup his ass, one side of which still feels warmer than the other.

“Oh, God,” he says again, but in mortification this time, parting from Hyunjin and shoving his face into the crook of his neck.

“What’s up?”

“I can’t believe I hit you,” he laments.

“I think spanked is the technical term,” Hyunjin corrects him teasingly, and Chris moans in despair.

“I’m a brute and a moron.”

“I was literally asking for it, Hyung.”

“That’s no excuse! Who gets presented with that kind of gift and fucking brutalises it?!”

Hyunjin pushes him away, forcing him to leave the shelter of his shoulder and to face him.

Chris knows his face is on fire, but there’s no trace of mockery or reproach on Hyunjin’s. He only looks serious.

“It’s not called a gift when it’s being hurled at your face. Plus, I didn’t really mind? It…I don’t know. It grounded me.”

It’s him who’s blushing now. Chris sighs and lets his hands roam over the dancer’s hard, lean body. Hyunjin shyly reciprocates, touching his chest like he did earlier, but with none of the urgency he felt before. Even for Chris, everything feels much quieter and easier now.

“You’re so soft,” Hyunjin breathes out, and Chris flexes his muscles just to make him lie, and he giggles.

“I should have treated you right from the beginning, no matter what,” he says when his fingers come across Hyunjin’s lower back, making him whine and arch. “You should be handled like the masterpiece you are, ouji.”

He whispers the last word into Hyunjin’s ear, reverent and full of promises, right as he slips a hand between his asscheeks and brushes a fingertip to his rim. A full-bodied shiver seizes Hyunjin at the touch, and Chris stills. He doesn’t take his hand away, though.

“Are you still sure?” He asks in his most gentle voice. “This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing. We can have other opportunities.”

“I’m very sure,” Hyunjin answers a little breathlessly. “I’d love for this not to be a one-time thing, but I still want to.”

Chris swallows hard.

“All the way?”

“Yes, Hyung. With you. Not fucking. Love, like you said. Please?”

Chris’s chest feels too small for his heart all of a sudden, and he clears his throat.

“Can you grab the oil from there?”

It takes some effort and a bit of moving around, but Hyunjin manages to grab the jar without getting down from Chris’s lap. Which proves useless when they realise they need to move anyway.

“We’re both morons,” Hyunjin states when Chris walks back from the bathroom with towels, and playfully throws one at him.

“We’re tired,” he answers, and Hyunjin can’t contradict him.

“It’s so soft!” He marvels at the plushness of the towel, rubbing it against his cheek. “I always wonder how hotels keep their towels so damn soft! What kind of softener do they even use? Mine never feel like that anymore after being washed.”

“Ah,” Chris starts as he climbs back onto the bed, settling down against the wall. “I’m pretty sure it’s a scam. They throw them away after one use, that’s the secret. Come over here.”

“That would explain why rooms are so expensive,” Hyunjin laughs, joining him and throwing the towel on the bed. “Move.”

Chris leans forward so Hyunjin can slip a clean pillow between his back and the wall.

“Better?”

“Thank you. Come on, sit down here.”

He pats his own thighs, covered with a towel folded in two. Hyunjin settles down, knees folded on both sides of him, almost touching the wall.

“Mmmmmh, comfy.”

Chris chuckles and embraces him when Hyunjin snuggles him, pressing a kiss to his hair. The oil jar is waiting on the nightstand, lid open and well within his reach, beside the tissues Hyunjin found in the drawer. The oil itself looks soft, but it’s not completely liquid, so he can collect some rather than having to dip his fingers in it. Good.

Hyunjin shudders at the first touch, as if in surprise. Chris doesn’t do much, just keeping his arm around him and his fingers lathering his cleft with soft, stroking gestures. No pressure, no teasing, no nothing. Only his hand down there, caressing, slicking his skin, until he feels Hyunjin relax on top of him, letting himself go.

“I’ll ask one last time,” he says quietly, his free hand on Hyunjin’s neck in a soft but firm hold, a silent I got you. “Are you really sure? It’s been a long time, we should probably take things slow.”

“I’m sure.”

“I’ll do my best but it could still be uncomfortable.”

“Do you mean I might not be able to sit or walk straight for a day or two?”

“Errrrr, I guess?”

“Good then. Because I want to feel y-“

The last syllable gets lost in a tiny hiccup when Chris presses one knuckle inside him, breaching him open effortlessly, only for him to instantly clamp down. Chris stops moving again.

“You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin’s voice comes higher pitched than usual. “You startled me.”

“Sorry. Don’t worry, I’ll go slow.”

He doesn’t move for a minute before starting again, very slowly. Hyunjin remains huddled against his chest, silent but for his focused breathing. Chris takes his sweet, sweet time opening him up — stroking his back, relishing every inch gained, every muscle relaxing around his fingers like a victory, like Hyunjin’s body is surrendering to him.

Three fingers seem to be where it gets a little difficult, but not so much as Chris would have expected it to be knowing how long it’s been for Hyunjin, and he withdraws his hand to get more oil.

“Have you been doing some of this by yourself, Hyunjinnie?”

“Fuck off,” comes the mumbled answer, muffled into his chest.

“Oh, that’s not very nice,” Chris chides, slipping his fingers back inside. “And here I was, just wanting to tell you how good you’re doing.”

His eyebrows shoot up when his knuckles glide in easily, feeling the sudden give around them.

Oh. So that’s what it’s like?

“That’s right, Jinnie. You’re doing so, so well…” And when he feels Hyunjin melting even more, he scratches his lower back where he now knows he’s sensitive, and adds, “You’re such a good boy.”

It’s like he’s found the magic words. Hyunjin falls apart on top of him, like every single muscle in his body suddenly gives up on him. He relaxes around Chris’s fingers, sighing softly as he snuggles him close.

“God, look at you,” Chris whispers. “You’re so good, Jinnie… so good…”

“Hyung,” Hyunjin whines when Chris’s fingertips drag against his sweet spot.

“That’s good? Here?”

Hyunjin’s answering hum is strangled in its way out when Chris starts pressing into it, careful but firm, adding more pressure until the dancer is squirming on top of him, moaning and panting. Chris could keep this up all night just for the pleasure of Hyunjin’s reactions, the way he answers to his touch. It’s only regretfully that he finally pulls out and wipes his hand on the towel Hyunjin threw on the bed earlier.

“I think you’re as ready as you’ll ever be,” he states, and Hyunjin shifts, straightening up. And good God, his face.

He’d been pretty red after coming earlier, but it didn’t compare to this. The glazed eyes, messy hair, shiny lips, and flushed cheeks compose a picture Chris wishes he could commission a painting of.

“You’re too damn pretty,” he says, a little surprised by the way his own voice catches in his throat.

“That’s my job,” Hyunjin chuckles at the compliment. “Glad to hear I’m doing it right.”

There’s the faintest hint of self-deprecation in his answer, in spite of his laughing tone, and Chris doesn’t miss it.

“You’re so much more than that, Jinnie.”

His hand still on Hyunjin’s lower back does some more scratching, and Hyunjin closes his eyes in contentment. Looking down, Chris sees the dancer’s half-hard, weeping dick, and the large damp spot on the towel. He’s glad to see that despite his lack of practice, he’s still capable of doing this right. Or at least well enough that Hyunjin has clearly been enjoying it.

“Come on, we gotta move,” he says, gently nudging him off his lap.

Hyunjin gets down to go lie beside him, settling down on his stomach, his head resting on his crossed arms. Chris feels his shiny, hazy eyes on him as he removes the towel from his legs and stretches a bit.

“I hope you don’t need this for anything else right now,” he says with a look to the quickly diminishing contents of the jar on the nightstand.

“I have a new one in my suitcase.”

“Oh, good. Because there won’t be much left.”

Hyunjin snorts.

“It wouldn’t be very sanitary either, Hyung.”

“There’s that, too.”

Chris reaches down, petting Hyunjin’s lower back again, the other man closing his eyes under the caress. When he reopens them, his gaze lands straight on Chris’s crotch, where his half-full dick is resting. He reaches out, tracing a finger along it.

“Hey, Channie-Hyung,” he calls. “Is this what you were saving my mouth for?”

Chris feels his face catch fire — shit, he did say that.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for? I’ve been looking forward to it.”

Chris’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Really?”

Hyunjin plops himself up on his elbows and scoots just a little closer, enough to be able to brush his lips to his hip.

“Mmmhmmh. You want some help right now?”

Obviously Chris does, he’s not ready yet, but he could absolutely take care of it himself.

“You don’t have to.”

Hyunjin raises his sassiest eyebrow at him before dipping his head. The caress of his hair falling across Chris’s skin would be enough to make him moan, but the brush of his lips across his dick makes him choke on his own spit. Fuck, this is embarrassing. And Hyunjin looks at him from below, looking like he’s having way too much fun with this. The brat. Chris knows he shouldn’t have hit — okay, spanked — him, and he regrets doing so, but still, he feels inclined to do it again right now.

“Try and take it away from me, see what that gets you,” Hyunjin states, before leaning in again.

Chris can’t see it in the position they’re in. All he sees is Hyunjin’s neck and his hair, his soft, black hair spread all over his skin like spilled ink. But he feels, with acute precision, the dancer’s lips wrapping around the tip of his cock.

It’s on a cry that he chokes this time, his head jolting up so abruptly that it hits the bed head. Hyunjin snorts and kind of chokes in turn, but he doesn’t stop. He takes Chris in, inch by inch, and all of him, too. Chris fists the sheets to ground himself. Don’t move, don’t move, don’t screw up, you don’t go fucking people’s throats without asking first. Don’t even ask. He might say yes just to please you. Don’t move, just hang in there!

Hyunjin doesn’t have much experience and even less practice to go by, but what he lacks in skill, he makes up for in eagerness and obvious enjoyment on his own part. He licks and sucks on Chris’s dick like it’s his favourite flavour of ice cream on a hot summer day, and kisses it like he’s worshipping a God. He’s moaning as he goes, and Chris doesn’t know if he’s even aware that he actually feels the vibrations that create around his cock. Breathing too hard, he fists Hyunjin’s hair, trying his best not to be harsh, but the delighted whine it earns him reassures him.

“Fuck,” he pants when he feels his dick hardening and filling that delicious, hungry mouth. “Fuck, Jinnie, you’re so good, so good to me.”

The mouth disappears, only for the tongue to come nudging Chris’s slit, and if anyone asks who made that high-pitched, mewling little noise, no, it wasn’t him, and nobody can prove it!

“I’d love to carry on, but we kinda need this, huh?”

Chris blinks, only now realising that he’d closed his eyes, and so tightly that he’s seeing stars. They twinkle around Hyunjin, who’s looking up at him now. The sight is like a blow to Chris’s guts, and he reaches out for the dancer’s face, cupping his jaw and dragging a thumb over his very shiny, slick mouth. Ain’t no way this is all spit, and the vision of these pre-come stained lips makes his cock throb and his throat tighten with emotion.

“God, you’re gorgeous.”

The words hurt to say, and this time Hyunjin doesn’t deflect the compliment. He bats his eyes prettily, as if no one has ever told him that before, and looks down.

“Hey, Hyung?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re… I mean…”

He stops, embarrassed. Chris follows his gaze and coughs, a little self-conscious but not too much.

“Ah, yeah. I know. That’s why I kept asking if you’re sure, especially since it’s been a long time.”

Chris doesn’t exactly have a big dick. But he’s definitely above average.

“I am,” Hyunjin confirms once again, and his eyes only shine with interest and something that looks like defiance.

“Never one to back down from a challenge, are you?”

“You know me so well.”

They move around. Hyunjin lays back down and lifts himself up to allow Chris to spread a soft towel under him, and becomes all but docile and pliant when Chris kisses him, dips his fingers into the oil again, and slips three fingers back inside him. Effortlessly, as he’s happy to notice. Hyunjin doesn’t even start controlling his breathing again — he just moans deeply, parts his legs, and arches on the bed.

“Hyung,” he calls when Chris’s fingers drag against his sweet spot again. Chris leans in to kiss him as he brings his free hand to Hyunjin’s chest and rubs one of his nipples. It pebbles instantly, and Hyunjin moans into his mouth, pushing back against his fingers.

“You ready?” Chris asks, because there isn’t much more to do in terms of prepping now, and Hyunjin looks more than eager to get to it.

The dancer nods in answer, and Chris straightens up to reach out once more for the jar on the nightstand. He looks at Hyunjin as he oils himself up, gritting his teeth so he won’t moan under his own caress and the watchful eyes of the dancer, languidly waiting for him.

Chris’s heart beats too hard when he crawls back to him, between his parted legs.

“Guide me?” He asks, and Hyunjin reaches down between them, positioning the slick head of Chris’s cock so it’s nudged against his loose entrance before draping his arms around his shoulders.

“Look at me,” Chris whispers, elbows rested on both sides of his partner. “Don’t close your eyes, okay? Look into my eyes. Tell me if it hurts. Stop me anytime.”

“Hyung… please.”

The little, almost imperceptible roll of Hyunjin’s hips brings his tip halfway inside, and he gasps.

“Hyunjinnie, please, please try to stay still?” He almost begs, because he can only stay in control of himself if he can set the pace.

“I will if you start moving.”

Chris braces himself and, gazing straight into Hyunjin’s eyes, he presses into him.

There’s a sharp intake of breath Chris captures with a kiss as he instantly stops moving, giving him time to adapt.

“Look at me, Jinnie. Don’t close your eyes.”

It feels like it lasts for ages, and every second is excruciating and blissful. Chris moves his hips with slow, precise movements, sinking deeper into Hyunjin so progressively, it feels like he’ll never get there. But the way Hyunjin looks up at him, trembling breath and eyes so dark he can’t see his irises at all, is enough to ground him.

“Hyung,” the dancer whines, his hands clenching on Chris’s shoulders hard enough that he’s sure his nails will leave marks there.

Chris stills. He’s a little over halfway in, and he brushes strands of damp hair away from his lover’s face.

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah, just— It’s… a lot.”

Chris remains as he is, ignoring how loudly his body is screaming at him to fucking go.

“I can tell. You’re really, really tight, Jinnie.”

“That’s… That’s nice, right?”

Chris chuckles.

“You feel wonderful, but I don’t want to hurt you. We can stop, we don’t need to go all the way on day one, Jinnie. You-”

He stops, unsure if he should say what’s on his mind right now. But Hyunjin noticed and, like someone who’s in dire need of distraction, he doesn’t let it go.

“Tell me, Channie-Hyung.”

Chris sighs and presses a kiss to Hyunjin’s lips.

“I’m sorry. I was going to say that you… You feel like a virgin, Hyunjinnie.”

He sees the blush, and suddenly thinks, oh. Thank God we stopped that angry thing we began with. He couldn’t have taken it without me seriously hurting him.

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin mumbles, looking away in embarrassment.

“No, please.”

Chris leans in and kisses his cheek, his jawline, his hair, his ear.

“Please don’t look away. It’s okay, Jinnie. I had no expectations and this — please don’t take it the wrong way but this is really… really sweet. I like it.”

“I’m not disappointing you?”

“Never.”

Hyunjin’s gaze is on him again, endearingly shy.

“Maybe… Move a little now?”

Chris doesn’t need to be told twice.

Every new push, small as it is, is followed by a rough sound, low down Hyunjin’s throat, as if Chris is pushing something out of him as he penetrates him.

“Relax,” Chris whispers. “I got you, Jinnie, you can let go…”

Hyunjin’s arms fall on the bed, useless, and this time when he closes his eyes, Chris doesn’t ask him to reopen them. He places a kiss on each of his eyelids and keeps on moving.

“Chan,” Hyunjin calls softly.

“I’m right here. You’re doing so well, Jinnie,” he praises him. “You’re so good, so, so good… you’re making me so happy…”

And just as he hoped, it’s the same as earlier. He feels Hyunjin loosen up around him at the words. The good news is that Chris has praise for days when it comes to Hyunjin, and he doesn’t mind repeating himself.

“Look at you,” he pants, lifting himself up. “Look, Jinnie, look how well you’re taking me.”

Hyunjin blinks his eyes open. It looks difficult, but he manages, and even lifts his head up enough to see, down where their bodies are joined by flesh, that Chris is almost flush against him.

“Taking all of me like this,” Chris whispers. “Oh, you’re better than good.”

Chris lowers his head, letting his forehead rest against the dancer’s, and they both watch as he bottoms out, Hyunjin welcoming the feeling of Chris’s hips finally pressed against him with a whine.

“That’s it, baby,” Chris murmurs hotly. “Let’s give you a minute to adapt. Breathe with me.”

Hyunjin’s head drops back into the pillow, eyes fluttering shut again, and he sighs.

“Full.”

The word falls from his lips, soft like a feather, and Chris chuckles lightly.

“Is that good?” He asks, and he leans in to pepper kisses all across his face, to distract Hyunjin from the discomfort of the stretch, as well as distracting himself from the strain on his own body. Hyunjin feels crazy. His hot, oil-slicked flesh is hugging his dick so tightly, it’s like he’ll never get it back, and he’s too okay with the notion.

“Yes… It feels just right.”

More kisses are showered everywhere Chris can reach, and he rubs their noses together. Hyunjin giggles.

“I do love you, Christopher. You know that?”

He opens his eyes again when Chris doesn’t answer, because fuck, does he really?

He never thought that Hyunjin would lie about it, of course, but what does it truly entail? They all care a great deal about each other. They all love each other. Hyunjin said he likes him best. He knows Hyunjin trusts him, that he can count on Chris to take care of him in a way no one else ever will because Chris would fucking bleed for his members, and he would die for Hyunjin. But why would Hyunjin love him? Choose him? He’s not worthy.

And Hyunjin must read this in his eyes or in his expression because his gaze softens into something pained and tender, and he cups his face in a gesture so sweet, Chris feels himself on the verge of tears.

“Stop this, Channie-Hyung. Your brain is your worst enemy, and you need to stop listening to the lies it’s telling you.”

Chris widens his eyes and he’s about to ask Hyunjin if he just came up with this when he realises — he knows. He understands.

“Impostor syndrome is a bitch,” the dancer carries on. “I love you. It might not be like a high school crush or like in one of these rom-coms, but when is anything normal for us, Hyung?”

Chris shakes his head.

“You’re too good for me.”

Hyunjin frowns at him.

“Nobody on this whole planet is too good for you. If anything, you are too good for this world. You’re caring, smart, brave, strong, funny, and fierce. And you’re beautiful.”

Chris can hear a lot of things but not this — at least not without rolling his eyes, which earns him another frown. Hyunjin pulls him down.

“Your eyes are beautiful,” he says with a kiss to each of his eyelids, just like Chris himself did earlier, and he lets himself be done. “Your nose is beautiful,” and this one sounds fucking ludicrous, but Hyunjin kisses his nose too, and that somehow eases the clenching in his gut. The dancer carries on, kissing every feature he names. “Your chin is beautiful. The dimples in your cheeks when you really smile are the most adorable thing in the world. And your mouth… ”

He stops there, tracing Chris’s lips with a finger while he waits with bated breath.

“If you only knew how many times I’ve had to make myself stop staring at it...”

Chris hates himself for feeling emotional, so he kisses Hyunjin to shut him up, but it’s too late. His words have lighted something deep inside him, like a tiny flame that grows and grows, and warmth unfurls in his chest. Hyunjin toys with his lower lip, biting and licking at it before he opens his mouth and languidly sucks on his tongue. Chris moans in spite of himself, the sensation sending a shiver down his body that makes him roll his hips by reflex. Hyunjin gasps into the kiss.

“Sorry, sorry!” Chris pants. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay,” Hyunjin reassures him a little breathlessly. “It felt good. I think you can move now.”

Chris pretends he didn’t hear the slight tremble in his voice, because fuck, Hyunjin truly is tight, perhaps the tightest Chris has ever known, and it would be weird if he wasn’t a little apprehensive.

“Promise me you’ll stop me if it hurts,” he whispers. “Even a little. We’ll work it out.”

“Promise.”

Chris tangles his fingers into the soft black locks and kisses Hyunjin right as he starts moving, trying to keep him distracted again. It’s a little tricky to keep it all up at the same time — the grip on his hair, tight enough but not too much, the kissing, that Hyunjin only lazily participates in, and the controlled, very shallow thrusts. Easy as he’s going, though, Hyunjin is making those deep, throaty noises again, and Chris has the sudden, strange thought that he could try and synthesise that sound and use it as a sample. It would be much more subtle than the actual moans he often hears in songs, but still sexy as fuck.

Would you please stop, for once in your fucking life?! You’re not at work, for God’s sake!

He’s able to pull halfway out by the time Hyunjin turns his head to the side and presses his hands to Chris’s shoulders, which makes him stop instantly.

“It chafes,” he simply states, which is not at all surprising.

“Yeah, we could use more oil. I’m gonna pull out, okay?”

Hyunjin nods, and Chris keeps his eyes on his face all along while he does. Parted lips and knitted brows, and some hair sticking to his skin. God, he’s never going to look at him the same again after this, and he’s suddenly wondering how Hyunjin and Felix managed to keep on working together after knowing each other that way and breaking up. Maybe he’ll ask when he gets the chance.

Hyunjin winces when Chris parts from him. He looks down at his erection and Hyunjin’s rim, making sure there’s no trace of blood, because they’re definitely stopping here if he’s got so much as a scratch, but all he sees is oil. Definitely not enough of it.

“Hyung?”

“Yeah?”

Hyunjin looks like he’s about to ask something and is shying from it. He fiddles with the sheet and keeps quiet.

“What do you want, Hyunjinnie?” He encourages him. “You can tell me.”

“You’ll say no if you don’t want to?”

Chris can’t see anything in the world he wouldn’t want to do, but for the sake of the hypothesis, he nods.

“Can I… Can I ride you?”

Heat bursts deep inside Chris’s gut, and he’s glad Hyunjin’s eyes are on his face so he can’t see his dick twitch at the thought.

“Anything you want, Jinnie. Would that be comfortable for you?”

“I think so. And I…”

He pushes himself up, leaning aside a little so his weight rests on his hip rather than on his ass.

“I want to lead you. For once, I want you not to be the one putting in the effort.”

“You need to stop saying shit like that,” Chris blurts out, feeling his face heating up. His cheeks are so hot, Hyunjin’s fingers feel fresh when he touches him.

“You don’t always have to be the one in charge, Hyung,” he says softly, and before Chris can protest, his hands are on his shoulders, gently pushing. Chris’s first reaction is to brace himself against it — no, he can’t. That’s not how it works.

You were more than okay with the idea before he said that.

“It’s only us, Chan. I trust you all the way. I know I’m safe with you.”

Hyunjin’s voice sounds like a spell. He’s not singing, but there’s something in his tone, in the rhythm, that’s a little hypnotic.

“Don’t you trust me? Don’t you feel safe with me?”

Chris gives in and lies on his back, his throat closed up so he can barely speak.

“It’s not that, Jinnie.”

“Oh, but I think it is.”

Hyunjin straddles his thighs, and Chris can feel his skin against him, smooth with oil.

“I have half a mind to tie your hands to the bed,” the dancer teases. “Get us where that damn MV was leading to.”

“I wouldn’t like that,” Chris answers earnestly.

“Right. And I would never do something you wouldn’t like. See? Safe.”

“I know you wouldn’t. But taking care of you is my job.”

And my privilege.

“Yes, and you’re doing it even as we speak, but still.”

Hyunjin reaches out for the oil, and Chris admires him, his body, the innate grace of each gesture he makes, from that all-new viewpoint.

“It’s only you and me here, Channie-Hyung. No one will know you’ve actually lowered your defences for a little while. I won’t tell.”

Chris’s weak answer is cut off by Hyunjin’s hand oiling him up again. Then, lifting himself up on his knees, he moves up Chris’s body and positions himself above him. And when he starts lowering himself onto his dick, and Chris feels his tight, slick heat enveloping his cock head again, he knows he’s done for. He grabs the sheets so he won’t grab Hyunjin’s waist and fuck into him.

“Shit!” he groans, desperate to keep his eyes open because between Hyunjin fucking biting his lips as he takes him in, and the very sight of his cock disappearing inside that slender, perfect body, he can’t possibly miss one second. “Screw that bullshit, you’re right.”

Hyunjin’s face lights up.

“I’d like to hear you say the words,” he asks.

His voice is strained but polite, as if he knows he’s asking for a lot and won’t be mad if Chris refuses him. Luckily for him, Chris is past saying no to anything. His hands are fisting the sheets so hard, the tendons in his forearms are showing.

“Fuck me, Jinnie,” he says, and something happens that he couldn’t explain. Something breaks inside him, like a wall collapsing. It feels like something he should be upset about, but he’s not. “Take me,” he adds, testing the words, feeling it again, that thing within him that falls apart. And it’s not bad, no — it’s good. It’s liberating. “Take the lead.”

Hyunjin looks like he’s been waiting to hear these words his entire life. He moans, high and breathy, as he finally sits down, Chris fully sheathed inside, and gives him one of his signature, twisted little smiles.

“Look who’s being a good boy now-”

A surprised whimper escapes Hyunjin’s mouth when Chris’s dick throbs again, inside him this time.

“Sorry,” he whines. “Shit, Jin, I’m such a mess…”

He covers his face with his hands, mortified, so he only hears Hyunjin’s answer.

“Stop apologising,” he says with a tentative roll of his hips. “You feel so perfect inside me, Hyung… And you’re truly, really good… So good for me.”

Chris parts his fingers enough to peek at Hyunjin’s face as he moves tentatively, and finds himself too fascinated to remain embarrassed.

Hyunjin isn’t looking at him anymore. He’s leaning forward, hands splayed across Chris’s chest, shifting around, experimenting. His face is tense with effort and focus as he searches for the best position, the right angle, that low, guttural sound coming out of his throat again. Chris wants to hold him, to kiss him, to smooth every crease away from his face. He only ever wants to see him happy.

“So good,” Hyunjin croaks again, as if he’d heard his thoughts, then he groans again and rolls his hips.

“Oh, fuck!” Chris groans in pleasure, fingers digging into his own face.

“Stop hiding,” comes the dancer’s breathy voice, and Chris feels his hands on his wrists, pulling them away from his face before guiding them forward.

“Watch me, Chris,” he says, and fuck, there’s something deep inside him that purrs in satisfaction and contentment and feels right, right, right when Hyunjin calls him by his name, when he speaks with that voice. He sounds like he’s full of cock, like anyone could tell just by hearing him talk. “Touch me.”

Chris’s hands find purchase on that snatched waist, and travel down to his hips. Hyunjin is still finding new ways to make Chris say he’s the most beautiful vision he’s ever seen in his life, but this right now, truly takes the cake. And when he moves for good, Chris grabs his ass like it’s a lifeline and holds onto it for dear life because oh, my, God.

Hyunjin is clearly done adapting and finding the right angle and he’s moving now, moving for good, the muscles in his thighs flexing as he does. A litany of curses and savage moans fall from his open mouth. Chris barely recognises him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,  ahh - Hyung! You feel so fucking good!”

Chris’s heart is pounding in his chest, right under Hyunjin’s right hand, and good God, it’s never felt like this with anyone.

“You’re so tight,” he groans. “So fucking hot, Jinnie… ‘This is what you wanted?”

“Yes, yes, oh, fuck! Chan!”

Everything Hyunjin calls him sounds like the dirtiest shit he’s ever heard, and right when he’s thinking this can’t get any better, Hyunjin takes his hands off his chest, leans backwards, and rests them on his thighs. His whole body on display for Chris, from his legs all the way up to his throat, skin glistening in the soft glow of the bed lamp. He moves on top of him like the dancing god he is, hips rolling with such practised moves, it’s like he’s been training all these years for the sole purpose of finding himself here, now, fucking himself on Chris’s dick, riding him into oblivion.

“Jinnie,” he calls, and he’d cringe at his own pleading tone if he had any fucks to spare right now. Good thing he doesn’t. “Jinnie, fuck, I don’t know how long—“

He’s cut off by a wave of toe-curling pleasure when Hyunjin clenches around him, but the message still gets through.

“No,” Hyunjin chokes. “Oh no, no, please - Channie-Hyung…”

And how is Chris supposed to do anything else than do his best to abide?

“You’re so good,” Hyunjin’s voice keeps coming, “So good, please - please be good for me, please, please, please hold on, please-“

And as if the begging and praising weren’t enough, Hyunjin falls forward again, bracing himself atop Chris’s chest, and fuck, he’s been crying. Hot, fat tears rolling down his temples into his hair, rolling down his cheeks now.

Chris is up before he knows it, plopped on one arm, his free hand tangled in the dancer’s damp hair, and his lips muffle Hyunjin’s surprised little cry.

“Don’t cry,” he pants into the kiss. “Don’t cry, baby, I’m here, I got you.”

“I’m not crying,” Hyunjin protests, never stopping to move. “You’re crying.”

Is he? Chris is tasting salt but he doesn’t know whose tears these are. Is he crying?

“Fuck,” Hyunjin carries on, voice breaking now, “Fuck, Chris, fuck,” and Chris feels him clenching around him again, and he kisses him. It’s deep, it’s messy, it’s everything, and he can tell the exact moment Hyunjin climaxes because his whole body goes lax on top of him. He holds him through it, when Hyunjin’s head falls against his shoulder and he feels more tears on his skin, like an echo of the wet, hot cum Hyunjin is spilling between them.

Hyunjin collapses on top of him, and Chris shifts just enough to be able to cradle him in both his arms. It calls for more self-control than he ever thought he had to just hold him and not shove him onto the bed and fuck into him until he comes. He wishes his dick would just stop twitching with how damn close he is, and tries to focus on the upside. He did manage to hold on for Hyunjin. He gave him what he wanted. His heart swells with pride.

“You okay?” He still asks, when Hyunjin remains silent.

The answer is not what he’d expected.

“You called me baby.”

Chris doesn’t have quite enough blood left in the northern region of his body to manage a blush, but his face definitely makes an attempt. Oh, shit, that’s right. He didn’t realise at the time, but he really called him that. Clearly got ahead of himself there, damn.

“Yeah, sorry… In the heat of the moment, I didn’t think… I’m sorry.”

It’s hard to think; it’s even harder to form sentences when his whole body is still alight with pent-up arousal. He bites back a moan when Hyunjin moves. He’s just straightening up, but even this is enough to make him take his hands off the dancer so he can clench his fists. But Hyunjin looks sad again. It reminds Chris of the way he looked at him back at the studio, when he first kissed him.

“Are you taking it back?” Hyunjin asks, and if Chris didn’t know him so well, he might not have heard the faint hint of a plea in his casual tone. Oh.

He shakes his head.

“I’m not taking anything back, Jinnie. Unless you want me to.”

Forcing himself to relax a little, he brings a hand to Hyunjin’s face to wipe away his tears. His heart aches at the sight of Hyunjin’s closing his eyes and leaning into his touch.

“I don’t want to impose anything on you or to make you feel uncomfortable; that’s all.”

Hyunjin chuckles, still wet and a little broken.

“What I want?”

“Yes. You only need to tell me.”

Hyunjin takes a deep breath.

“Okay. So, I want to sleep with you and wake up in your arms tomorrow morning.”

Chris’s heart squeezes again.

“I’d be happy to.”

“And I want to do this again whenever we can. And I want to kiss you and hold your hand and do non-sexual things with you too.”

Oh, God.

Chris is speechless. What does he mean, non-sexual things? They’ve kind of established that they might have a sex with feelings thing, but why would Hyunjin want to do…

That’s boyfriend stuff. Why would he want to do boyfriend stuff with me?

Hyunjin reopens his eyes to look at him, and Chris doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him that way before.

“If that’s too much…” He starts. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable either, Hyung.”

Chris shakes his head vehemently.

“No, Jinnie, I… I’d love to. Hold your hand. Hold you. Kiss you. It’s just that… Hyunjin, I know we don’t have a lot of options. But I don’t know if I’m the right person to fall back on, even if I’d gladly be that for you.”

Hyunjin frowns.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know me, Hyunjin. We’ve been in this together for four years. You know I’m not exactly a healthy person. You know I don’t have an OFF switch. I-“

“What do you mean, fall back on?” Hyunjin cuts him off.

“What do you mean, what do I mean?”

Hyunjin shakes his head.

“Are you still assuming that I’m here with you because I have no other options?”

Chris doesn’t answer, because what else could it be? But Hyunjin looks vexed.

“You said earlier that Felix wouldn’t have slept with me if he didn’t love me, and it’s true. He can’t separate sex from feelings, and neither can I. You’re not a safety net or a second choice. I never thought I’d have a chance to get anywhere with you, Chan. Even tonight, I just lost my shit. I wasn’t thinking straight. When you kissed me and then you tried to backpedal, I panicked. I threw myself at you because I thought I’d finally gotten my chance and you just weren’t interested after all and I… I thought, if you’d have me just for one night, that’d be better than nothing. But I always wanted more. I really like you.”

Chris doesn’t know what to say, so he kisses him. Hyunjin welcomes the kiss with a cute little noise that, of course, goes straight to Chris’s groin. Right when it was starting to feel like he was cooling down a little, Hyunjin shifts on top of him, wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing back eagerly.

“I want to kiss you and hold you and brew you tea in the morning and take your computer away from you at 3 a.m.,” Hyunjin breathes into the kiss, and he shivers when Chris’s hands find his waist. Are they trying to move him or keep him in place? Chris can’t tell. All he can think of is Hyunjin’s skin against his own, so soft and warm. “I want to turn you on so I can turn you off. Want to be the one to find that switch for you, put you to sleep when you can’t find it, Chan. But right now, what I want is for you to call me baby again, and fuck me into the mattress until you come inside me.”

Chris blinks and pulls away. Hyunjin is so pink in the face right now, his cheeks are almost red, but he holds Chris’s gaze defiantly.

“You don’t have to,” Chris protests weakly. Hyunjin is done, he shouldn’t take it if there’s nothing in it for him. “I can just-“

The dancer’s eyes harden for a second.

“Don’t you dare,” he says, a little harshly, but then both his eyes and voice soften as he adds, “Please.”

They both wince when they part, feeling the loss of each other so acutely, they almost spill the oil by reaching for it at the same time. Hyunjin giggles and withdraws his hand, and Chris grabs it. He twitches under his own touch as he oils himself up yet again, and gets a little breathless when he sees Hyunjin going on all fours and grabbing a pillow.

“Like that?” He asks. “Really?”

Hyunjin settles down comfortably, snuggling the pillow, looking at him over his shoulder without answering, as if waiting to see what Chris will do. So Chris does the one right thing he can possibly do. He oils Hyunjin up and, never leaving his eyes, lines himself up and presses back into him.

“Oh, God, fuck,” he groans through gritted teeth, and Hyunjin moans.

“Right, yes,” he encourages him sweetly. “That’s it. Is that nice, Channie?”

Chris nods, breathless.

“You were so good for me, Hyung, and I want to be good for you too. Want you to feel real, real nice, okay? That’ll make me happy. You want to make me happy, right?”

More nodding.

“I knew it. You’re always so good to us, Chan,” and shit, how does he know exactly what to say? Chris would give him the world. “Always putting us first. You know what will make me the happiest?”

Chris shakes his head ; his hands slotted in the little hollows of Hyunjin’s hips are the only things grounding him right now. The freshly oiled, hot tightness of Hyunjin’s body is consuming his reason.

“Anything, Jinnie. I’ll do anything.”

“Good boy.”

Chris chokes on a gasp. Fuck. He almost came at that.

I’m so fucked up.

“Fuck me, Channie-Hyung,” Hyunjin says, pressing against him, his back arching even more, shoulder blades shifting under his skin that looks golden in the soft light. “Fuck me like you know you won’t break. I can take it.”

No, you can’t.

Chris moves, and Hyunjin whines, but he can’t go hard. Even when the dancer eggs him on, asking him to stop holding back.

“I’d hurt you,” Chris argues. “I won’t hurt you, Jinnie, please…”

This is perfect anyway. Slow and deep, and Hyunjin is making these guttural sounds again, fingers clenching the fabric of the pillow when he drags against his oversensitive sweet spot. Chris is so close, the sensations so overwhelming, every move he makes feels like the last, every inch like the one that will push him over the edge. The friction is delicious, and even now, Hyunjin feels so tight, it’s like he’s actually grabbing his dick and trying to keep him inside.

“Fuck,” he moans. “Fuck, Jinnie…”

He lowers himself over Hyunjin’s body, covering him, kissing his neck, breathing heavily against his skin. Hyunjin is rocking gently under him, against him, his mouth full of soft praise and encouragement that make Chris want to cry and come all at the same time.

“Been wanting this for so long, been wanting you for so long - nhh! -  you feel so good, so perfect for me… Chris, Chris, Chris…”

Chris falls apart. He chokes on a sob, buries his face in the crook of the dancer’s neck, and the climax he’s been putting off for what feels like hours crashes into him, crushing him like a tidal wave.

“Jinnie, baby,” he gasps, “baby, fuck, God.”

His legs give up on him, his arms weakening. He’s vaguely aware of Hyunjin bracing himself under him, supporting him. Chris doesn’t have a single bone left in his body; there’s nothing left of him than the pleasure rushing through him, his heart threatening to burst, and the sound of Hyunjin’s voice, praising him more.

“That’s it, Channie, yes, that’s right… You can cry, it’s okay, it’s okay…”

All Chris can do is let himself go on his side to avoid collapsing on top of Hyunjin, and the dancer follows his movement. They find themselves lying on the bed together, spooning, Chris’s dick still inside Hyunjin as it softens, and he holds onto the dancer while pleasure fizzes out in his blood. A hand finds his, and fingers twine with his own, and tears burn his eyes. More tears. Hyunjin must feel them on his skin because he squeezes his hand and whispers again that it’s okay, he can cry.

“I’m sorry,” Chris says earnestly, burying his face against Hyunjin’s back. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“I don’t know why I cried either. I’m happy.”

“I’m happy too.”

“Maybe that’s why, who knows.”

Chris’s answer is cut off by a full-bodied shiver, that Hyunjin feels.

“You okay?”

“Mmmmmh. Just cold.”

Sweat is cooling off quickly on his skin, and when Hyunjin moves, throwing the covers over them, he barely has the will to protest.

“Jinnie… We’re gross…”

“If you’re thinking about the bed, that ship sailed a long time ago…”

Chris vaguely recalls spreading towels over the bed to protect it, but it doesn’t look like there’s any in their immediate vicinity. Oh, well. Silence settles as he does, his lips pressed to the nape of Hyunjin’s neck, breathing him in, feeling his damp hair against his face. Oh, what did he ever do to be this blessed?

“Jinnie?”

“Mh?”

“Don’t fall asleep. We need to wash up.”

“I’m not falling asleep,” Hyunjin answers sleepily. “You’re falling asleep.”

Chris doesn’t want to fall asleep. He’s gross. He needs a shower, but he can’t move right now.

“Talk to me,” he asks. “Keep me awake.”

“What do you want to talk about?” Hyunjin asks, who would clearly like to just snuggle and take a power nap before braving the shower.

“I don’t know.”

“You gotta give me something, Hyung… Ask me a question at least.”

Chris hesitates.

“Why did you and Felix break up?”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer straight away, but he doesn’t tense or stiffen in his arms. Chris waits patiently.

“We were very young,” Hyunjin answers quietly. “It was just like a high school crush. All-consuming. World-shattering. See what I mean?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I’m actually surprised you never noticed. There was nothing for me but him, and he had it just as bad. I missed him so badly when we had to be away from each other, I couldn’t sing properly. You kept making me drink honeyed tea.”

Chris blinks.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, you see now?”

“And Minho kept telling me how Felix needed more sleep because he really didn’t look too good at times!”

“That’s it. Well, that’s how we… broke up, if you can call it that. We had to be a week apart because our agendas were like that, and that’s all there was to it, and he called me from his hotel room on the fourth night. He was crying so hard I could barely understand him telling me he was missing me so fucking much, and the second I heard him cry, I started crying as well because I missed him too. We spent the night on the phone, trying to sleep, listening to each other breathing. It was… We were messed up. It was unprofessional. He called in sick the day after, and I don’t recall which magazine he had to go pose for, accepted Innie as a replacement. Remember that?”

Chris nods. How could he not have seen what was going on? All the signs had been there.

“Lix said that no amount of makeup could have saved his face that day. And I was so distracted, I fell during practice, and I had to wear my wrist in a splint for a week. We both started freaking out because things were getting out of hand. We were screwing up.”

Chris sees. He remembers.

I just never connected the dots.

“He missed a contract. I got hurt. We both decided to call it off before we fucked something important up. And that was it.”

Chris holds him tighter.

“It must have been hard.”

“It wasn’t easy. We had… relapses. For a year or so. We missed each other a lot, and… Well, it’s difficult to get back to normal after knowing someone like that, especially when you spend so much time together. But we got over it, Hyung, we really did. We outgrew it. We’re fine now. It’s never going to be an issue, if you want us to be, like, a thing… If you’d ever want to tell the others? We could.”

He’s stuttering. Chris kisses the first thing he can reach, his shoulder blade.

“Maybe someday. But I think I’d like to keep it to ourselves for a little bit. While we figure things out.”

Hyunjin relaxes against him. Chris hadn’t even realised that he’d been tensing up. One more item to add to the growing list of blatant things he should have seen and missed.

Which. Wait.

“Jinnie, is Felix hooking up with one of the others?”

Hyunjin shifts.

“Why would you ask me that?”

“Because you said you’re cool, so I assume you know he’s turned that page. Doesn’t seem all that far-fetched.”

Hyunjin lets out an awkward little laugh.

“No, it’s not,” he admits. “But you should ask him, not me. Come on, let’s go wash up. I want to sleep in the clean bed.”

And he actually moves and gets up. Chris had slowly been giving up on the idea, but the way Hyunjin’s skin sticks to his when he parts from him is really, really gross. He gets up in turn. His whole body hurts, but in a good way. He stretches under Hyunjin’s watchful, appreciative eye, and catches him smiling.

“What?” Chris asks, and Hyunjin just grabs his hand and grins.

“Just thinking how good it’s going to feel to be all clean, in your arms, in a fresh bed.”

And Chris blinks at him for a second before grinning in turn. It sucks to be up; his legs feel like he ran a decathlon, he’s cold, and his skin is both clammy and gritty, but one thing’s for sure, and that’s rare enough for him to feel a rush of pure, unaltered contentment at the thought of it.

Tonight, he’s going to sleep well.

Oh brother! Give me a helping hand...
Oh brother! Tell me you understand...