Hibiscus. Lavender. Rose..? Jisung and Minho are debating about splitting their dorms. Hyunjin tunes most of it out, not interested. He wouldn’t mind it if the other members needed space and moved out, but he’d never make that first move himself. There were things he had yet to experience with them. They couldn’t just Every single moment imbues itself in Hyunjin’s head like a parasite.
Minho’s on speakerphone, yowling. And Jisung’s in his designated armchair, phone held in one hand, an unopened bag of chips in the other, yowling right back. They’re riffing off of each other, meowing and barking Hyunjin to an early stage of tinnitus, when it happens.
It.
One moment he’s thinking of a flower to draw, laughing at the little chirps and hisses coming from Jisung’s phone, and the next - he’s eye level with Chan’s co*ck, while the man traipses around their dorm unbothered, dick swinging nonchalantly. It’s a near heart attack with the way his chest constricts. The pearly gates of heaven opened up and they’re at least eight inches hard.Flowers. Think of flowers.
To say it’s something that hasn’t happened before would be a lie, but he has never come this close to the other man’s penis; to any of his bandmates’ penises, for that matter. And it’s not like he looked closely at it before either, unlike now. He has manners. Had. How can he not, when it’s right there? And - big. God, he is big big, in a weirdly proportionate way; tinted a pretty dark pink at the tip. Pretty. Hyunjin feels a wave of heat envelop his gelatinised bones. He’s sat for too long. But he doesn’t think he can get up yet, lest he falls and cracks his head open on their sharp coffee table.
Somewhere, in the depths of his rationale, he realizes that this train of thought isn’t the most normal or usual to have when it comes to a close friend, or, you know, a very tiny insignificant crush.
Jisung sees Chan too, assuring Hyunjin that the pale naked man in their living room isn’t just a hallucination prompted by Hyunjin’s sudden bouts of insomnia. Jisung throws a hand up over his eyes, screaming in agony. His phone clatters to the ground and Minho’s zoomed in eye blankets the entire screen, trying to get a peek at what’s going on.
The pencil Hyunjin’s been chewing on slips on his bottom lip, wet, and he shamefully swallows the spit that’d gathered there, looking around for any witnesses. Jisung is on the floor, wheezing yet taking Chan’s nudity in comedic stride, while Hyunjin is busy clenching his fists and grinding his teeth. It’s embarrassing. How much of a whor* can he be if the mere sight of a limp co*ck makes his mouth water. Donatella would be disappointed.
“Ew! Put some f*cking clothes on, hyung! C’mon now!”
Hyunjin’s pencil falls out of his hand with the sudden burst of Changbin’s voice. Chan is still naked, a few feet away, almost translucent where the light hits his skin. Maybe, he thinks, he should get up and quietly make his way out of the room, no longer in the mood to use his hands for drawing. Hyunjin gets up, slowly, acting as if his bones hurt, and gathers his things. All while avoiding eye contact with that thing.
“Look at what you’ve done! I barely see him out of his room these days and now you’ve scared my Hyunie away!”
Chan laughs and lifts his arms up, going for Changbin, whose voice raises in pitch the closer the man gets to him. Hyunjin takes his chance to slip out of the living room and into his own, ignoring the confused look Jisung sends him, phone now pressed to his ear. As soon as he’s alone, he locks the door and sits on the floor, closing his eyes and meditating - or attempting to.
He replays that one brief moment of Chan’s pelvis moving fluidly a few feet away from his face, all of him muscled and soft, weirdly smooth too. He waxes sometimes too but damn. One leg forward, the other following right behind.. - then a third one. God. “What is wrong with me..”
It’s not like Chan is the first man his eyes had strayed to. His hiatus a few years back, even if unwelcome at the time, had given him a chance to figure things out and learn himself. There’s no chance of that when your days consist of nineteen different flavors of practice and a protein shake for dinner. Although lonely, he’d used his time to paint, dance, and kiss a few people here and there. People that he’d known would keep it shut, belonging to the same cruel industry Hyunjin did.
But this was - Chan.
The same Chan who’d taken them in, literally raising some of the guys, guiding them through this insane world of adrenaline rushes and failures and scandals with a warm and steady grip. In a way, it feels wrong to see him as anything other than a brotherly figure. But that’d just be hypocritical of Hyunjin, because he’d slept with men twice Chan’s age. Though they weren’t one of his bandmates.
Hyunjin lets himself fall backwards on the floor, groaning as he splays his arms out and stares at the ceiling. It’s not like he ever had a chance with Chan to begin with, of all people. Changbin was more likely to get into his pants - and he was straight. But Chan? No way. He was busy flirting with everyone except his bandmates. Hyunjin would’ve preferred it if he lovingly shoved his co*ck down his throat but alas. Blame a man for having dreams and aspirations.
It’s annoying, and unfair, that he can’t have the man himself and that he also can’t stop thinking about him. Thinking about his perfect body and his perfect smile and the way his voice softens around him - annoying. Hyunjin grabs a pencil and starts sketching, the top of his ears and cheeks red.
A few hours later, after he’d antagonized himself into a morally ambiguous mental hole, a knock at the door pulls him away from his masterpiece. Hyunjin quickly closes the notebook he’d been so invested in, and goes to unlock the door, opening it and sitting back on the floor, pretending he didn’t just spend the past few hours sketching the outline of Chan’s co*ck in different artistic poses. Over and over again.
“Hey, are you busy? Am I interrupting?”
Hyunjin shakes his head and sneaks a glance at the leader, finding him wet and wearing more clothes than he’d been in earlier, a sleeveless shirt and a pair of shorts. The disappointment that flashes through him - is also annoying, really unasked for. He grips the pencil and opens his notebook on a new page, scratching rough lines into the clean white of it. He'll lament the rough way he treated the notebook later. “You’re not. What’s up?”
Chan shifts on his feet, before opting to lean his upper body on the frame of Hyunjin’s door, like the awkward loser he is. Hyunjin needs his co*ck in his mouth now. Chan’s too busy looking at the new artistic add-ons in the younger’s room to pay attention to him, and Hyunjin uses that small window of time to study him, head to toe. Hyunjin feels his cheeks warm when those eyes find his, and he pretends to look somewhere else. “This is gorgeous. As always. How do you even think of these?”
Hyunjin cringes and chews on his lower lip, one of his shoulders going up in a shrug. To say that the praise leaves him a little breathless would be a massive understatement. “Tiktok.”
“You’re joking. Tiktok? You?” Chan has the absolute gall to laugh at him, giggling and swaying around like a teenage girl. He’s so annoying. Hyunjin’s asshole might’ve also clenched once or twice at the sound of his laugh. He needs a good slap.
“Some of us, Bang Chan-ssi, have enough mental maturity to grow and learn from our pasts!” He raises his voice a little and the indignation in it seems to feed into the older’s amusem*nt. He laughs harder. Much to Hyunjin’s horror, he also leaves his spot at the door, letting it close behind him with a soft click. He skips over to him while giggling, turning Hyunjin’s stomach inside out. Annoying.
“You’re so - Ugh!. Shut up.”
Chan kneels on the floor and wraps his bare arms around Hyunjin’s shoulders, wiggling him around. Hyunjin’s this close to turning his head to the right and licking across the man’s mouth like a dog. Dog in heat, nevertheless. He also, maybe, wants to shove his head through one of his shirt’s stretched arm holes, where he can see a peek of side boob. God he loves boob. And Chan has plenty of boob.
“Hyunjinniee..~! Hyungie just came to ask if you wanted fried chicken for dinner.”
Hyunjin whines in disgust, pretending that all the baby talk doesn't go straight to his poor dick. Christopher will pay for this, one way or another. He turns around and sinks the tips of his fingers in the soft meat of Chan’s hips, tickling the other until he rolls away with a loud shriek. His fingers tingle. “Hyungie could’ve texted me about it if he wanted to know so bad.”
Chan pouts and knee-walks back to him, wrapping his arms around Hyunjin’s waist this time, trapping Hyunjin’s arms to his sides. Hyunjin wants to die. He also loves the smell of the other’s pineapple body wash - it leaves him dizzy. This is torture, in one of the hottest circles of hell. “But hyungie wanted to see you, dumpling..~”
Hyunjin elbows him lightly, getting no reaction other than a soft grunt in response, and then chooses to just go limp and let the man get his love aggression out, knowing there’s no way he could ever overpower him. Or deny him of anything. “Why me? Isn’t Jisung home? Go bother him, oh my god.”
When he turns his head, the tips of their noses brush lightly. Brief but enough to cover his skin in goosebumps. Hyunjin acts like it grosses him out, huffing and leaning his head back with a whine. Chan laughs again and leans in, shaking his wet curls until Hyunjin’s face and shirt are drenched in water. He licks a drop that falls on his top lip. “Who says I didn’t already? I just missed you.”
Hyunjin levels him with one of his side eyes, trailing his eyes over the puffy little fat pockets under Chan’s eyes. He’s so cute when he’s barefaced. “You saw me a few hours ago. Now ask me when’s the last time I saw Seungmin.”
Chan huffs and pouts, leaning his head on Hyunjin’s shoulder and squishing one of his cheeks on it. He rubs his face on the younger’s neck, and Hyunjin feels a chunk of his soul evaporate. What was it again? He feels like an omega in heat or something. God forbid Felix or Jisung ever hear him say that outloud.
“Yeah but Seungmin doesn’t live with us. I do. And I barely see you.” Chan sounds genuinely upset for a second, before he shoves his entire face in Hyunjin’s hair and sniffs him like a dog. “Did you use my shampoo?” The heat between them is a little unbearable, with Chan being a natural furnace and Hyunjin a natural humidifier. But it’s comfortable, being held so tightly, restricted. He tries not to think of how natural it feels to be held by him specifically.
“First of all, it’s not my fault that when I’m around you wanna go full Adam and Eve mode. Of course I’m gonna run as soon as Chan junior is out. Second of all - yes. Sharing is caring. I ran out of mine and the others use the worst shampoos. Did you know Binnie hyung uses three in one? Three in one?!”
Chan chuckles, rubbing his nose behind Hyunjin’s ear, where he’d tucked his hair to keep it from falling into his eyes again. The full-body shudder that goes through him is harder to contain, and it doesn’t go unnoticed, making Chan pause for a brief moment. “Are you telling me that seeing me naked makes you unable to think, Hyunjin-ah? You could’ve just said so..~”
Hyunjin ignores the teasing lilt of his voice and tilts his head to the side, trying to break away from the other’s wandering nose.
They’ve never done this before. Well, they have done things, but not this. They’ve never shied away from physical affection, be it a caress, a hug, a kiss on the cheek, a nuzzle or a full-blown night of cuddling. All eight of them just kind of naturally got to a point where a smack to a bare asscheek, fresh out the shower, was normal. Of course, everyone had their limits and little unspoken rules, but even then those were bendable, never set in stone. Jeongin hates skinship until Felix sits on his lap to play with his hair or massage his tit* or something.
Even with all of that context bringing a friendly ease to each one of their teasing remarks and little affections, Hyunjin still can’t tell his brain to stop perceiving them as more at times. They’re not meant to be seen as that, but he can’t stop the way his pulse skyrockets or the way his stomach clenches whenever someone is a little too close to him, or his bare skin. Someone whose hair is curly and whose dick he knows the shape of, in spectacular detail.
Just then Chan drags his nose from behind Hyunjin’s ear, down his neck and to his shoulder, before leaning back with a satisfied hum. Hyunjin knows he’s crimson red in the cheeks, and that his eyes might be a little more blown-out than before. He squints at their eldest, a pout on his lips. “Why are you suddenly in rut? First you were flapping your co*ck around and now you’re scenting me.”
Chan’s brows disappear up into his curls and he squeezes Hyunjin where his hands hold him at the waist. Hyunjin grunts, wanting him to squeeze a bit harder. “Rut? Scenting? Have you been reading what Felix sends in the groupchat?”
Hyunjin clocks him immediately. “How do you know what it's about?”
They stare at each other, faces a little too close, before Chan finally lets him go with a huff, smile bringing his dimples out into the world. Hyunjin catches himself before he can fall on his ass, and Chan leans in to pick up Hyunjin’s fallen notebook.
Hyunjin lunges for it, with a zealous defensiveness, before he realizes what he’s doing. Chan pulls it to his chest at the last moment, watching Hyunjin with suspicious eyes. “I’m pretty sure all of us have opened those links at least once before. Who can resist reading fanfiction about themselves? Not me.”
Hyunjin can feel the way his heart skips and tumbles in his chest, palms getting a little sweaty. His eyes flicker rapidly between Chan’s chest, where he’s now flipping through the pages, and his eyes that scan each page leisurely. “See, when you act like you’re trying to hide something, it makes me wanna find out even more what’s going on. Oooh I like this one!”
There’s no way he’ll let Chan find out about the sketches of his dick in different, crudely specific, scenarios. He could lie his way out of it, tell Chan that he loves drawing nude models, and that Chan’s sense of freedom inspired him. But the problem is that one of the sketches has what’s clearly a shot of Hyunjin’s plump lips wrapped around Chan’s co*ck, in far too much detail. And that sh*t he can’t explain nor defend. So he does the only reasonable thing left to do and tackles Chan to the floor.
“Huh-!”
They both go down, with Hyunjin on top of Chan, hovering over him menacingly. When Chan breathes out, stricken with disbelief, Hyunjin breathes it in, enjoying the minty aftertaste. They’re too close, pressed tight from chest to pelvis, legs tangled together. One of Chan’s hands is gripping the back of Hyunjin’s shirt, and the other still holds the notebook, raised up and away from their bodies. If Hyunjin really wanted to f*ck up their entire team’s dynamics he could just lean down a few inches and slot his lips over Chan’s. He wishes he could.
He slides his body across Chan’s, feeling every single thing through the other’s flimsy shirt and shorts, from muscle to bone to a shaky exhale. He keeps going until he’s able to reach his notebook, ignoring the way the older’s hand around his shirt goes slack and presses against the small of his back instead. Yanking it out of Chan’s weak grip, he smiles in triumph and looks down, holding himself up on one elbow.
Chan’s face is right where Hyunjin’s collarbones are, nearly nestled between his very small but firm pecs. He looks at the younger with something akin to shock and piety, giving Hyunjin whiplash. Only then does he realize that he’d rubbed himself all over Chan, and his eyes widen, mouth dropping open with a gasp. “I’m..-!”
The click of his door pulls both of their attention away from each other. Jisung walks in, holding a pair of headphones in his hands. When he looks up, they're already scrambling off of each other, red down to their chests. Jisung sees enough though. “Hey I wondered if...- Uh.. Huh.”
The three of them sit in silence, staring at each other. Jisung’s face gives away nothing, but Hyunjin can tell by the shape of his brows that he’s thinking things. The youngest of the three points at the hallway behind him and takes a step back. “I can come back later?”
“No!”
“Yes?”
Hyunjin looks at Chan and vice versa. There’s another terse silence, a heavier one, and then Changbin barges in, talking about finally finding a good sound for their latest track. The two other producers in the room immediately switch to work mode, leaving his room in a funny little duckling queue. Before Hyunjin can close his door fully, he meets eyes with Chan. The older smiles, before dragging his eyes away bashfully.
The skin of right hand is raw by the time he’s done touching himself that night.
One time is a situation, two - a coincidence. But for some f*cking reason Christopher Bang decides to start making his nude days a weekly tradition. And it doesn’t help that every single time he does it, Jisung is home and sending pointed looks at Hyunjin. As if it's his fault. Changbin seems a little more oblivious to everything happening around him. Whatever that everything is.
Hyunjin can feel the tension between him and Chan before the man fully steps inside their apartment after a full day of work. They barely talk anymore, and when they do - it’s softcore bullying with a lot of teasing. He pushes and pulls, Chan follows, and vice versa. Jeongin points that out mid-practice, when Chan’s threatening to spray a mouthful of water on Hyunjin, cheeks full.
“Y’all are like the kids that used to crush on each other in high school. Just kiss already.”
It’s a joke. Was meant to be one, judging by Jeongin’s sh*t-eating grin. Hyunjin laughs, alongside everyone, turning away to drink his own water. For some reason he doesn't find it as funny as he should, his chest stinging. But his eyes meet Chan’s in the mirror, and he sees something in them, making him feel better. Chan is running a tissue over the sweat gathered on his neck, gaze dark under the bright overhead lights, and Hyunjin can't stop staring. When he looks away and meets Jisung’s eyes all the heat in his loins disappears.
This thing between them keeps going for an unhealthy amount of time. Weeks stretched thin with busy schedules and speckled with little feverish glances and smiles. Jisung sleeps over at the other dorm more often than he’s in theirs, and everyone starts picking up on that as well. They finish the new album, re-sign their contracts, and keep practicing.
Chan touches the inside of his elbow once, by accident, and it makes him gasp. He ignores their manager’s curious look and pretends he's one with the car seat.
Happenstance number one: They’re doing one of those mandated interviews for their upcoming comeback, and Chan is sitting next to him, leading them through every question with a charming smile. Hyunjin stares at his dimple for a tad too long and Chan, as if sensing it, parks one of his hands right on his thigh, squeezing it. The camera probably picks up the small jolt that runs through him at the touch. He doesn’t care. Hyunjin’s wearing a set of heavy streetwear pants, thick and full of zippers and pockets - yet that hand sears through them like it’s made out of lava. Or maybe Hyunjin’s just very horny, and needy.
Happenstance number two: Hyunjin, with a towel around his waist, opens the shower room door and runs face first into Chan, who’s washing his hands. His nose bumps into the other’s chin and pain blooms out from the center of his face. Chan asks him if he’s okay, laughing and checking him over with concerned eyes. Hyunjin doesn’t answer, too busy dissociating from the feeling of Chan’s hands on his face; and the pain. Chan's thumb brushes the corner of Hyunjin's lips and his mouth drops open the slightest bit, ready to take the finger inside. Chan stops laughing, and then they’re both just standing there.
A door opens and closes somewhere and Hyunjin rips his face away from warm hands, as if burned, cheeks hot to the touch. He leaves first, not even looking at Chan’s still-outstretched hands.
Happenstance number five: Chan walks by Hyunjin while he’s making coffee early one morning. With the distance between their kitchen counters and the island not too big, Chan squeezes by him, dragging his hand over his entire waist in the process. Hyunjin's back is bare. When he breathes out, Chan’s already walking back to his room, unphased. This one feels the most like a fever dream.
Another time Hyunjin stays late to help Chan figure out a move for their newest choreo. The mirrors are all fogged up and Hyunjin’s brain is a pile of mush, the result of hours of dancing and dehydration. He’s about to ask Chan if he wants to order something when he turns around and sees the man fanning himself, shirtless. There’s a mark on his chest, where the soft meat of his tit* meets his armpit. A hickey.
“You’re f*cking someone?” It’s brash, direct, and the outburst carries a note of jealousy that Hyunjin barely contains. His mouth snaps closed in surprise.
Chan shakes his head, before bursting out into a hearty laugh. He presses on the slightly discolored spot and rubs at it gently, ears red. Hyunjin pretends that the sight doesn't awaken something in him. “That’s from working out. But thank you for having faith in my ability to pull anyone, when I look like I get four hours of sleep a week.”
Hyunjin closes his mouth in embarrassment and turns away, searching for anything to busy himself with. He’s stuffing things in his backpack when he senses Chan’s presence behind. He has quite an insistent aura, afterall. “Why do you look so upset? Hm, Hyunnie..?~” The man slides his arms around Hyunjin’s slim waist and squeezes him tightly. It’s unfair and it’s infuriating, the power he holds over Hyunjin. Two arms around his waist are enough to send blood down into the lower half of his body. Chan hums and presses his nose to Hyunjin’s ear. It makes him gasp and lean into Chan, much to the other’s pleasure. His breaths are scorching hot on the tip of Hyunjin’s ear. “Jealous?”
What an ass. Hyunjin pushes himself off of him and shoulders his backpack. Turning around, he presses a finger to Chan’s damp chest, cheeks red and pupils shaky. He's trying really hard not to look down, not to falter or give himself away. “Get moving or I’m telling the driver to leave without you.”
Chan nods and reaches for his own bag, eyeing Hyunjin up like he’s deep in thought. They don’t look at each other on the ride home, and then don’t even wish one another a good night, nodding amicably and leaving to their respective rooms. It leaves Hyunjin feeling both giddy and empty.
The next morning, Hyunjin accidentally overhears a conversation he wasn’t supposed to. He stands in the hallway, in front of Chan’s room, having meant to ask about the day before. He'd stayed awake thinking, hoping, gathering courage. And now he watches through the small gap as Chan sputters and tries explaining himself to a very serious looking Jisung.
“'I like it' is about him, isn’t it?”
“..Yeah.”
Hyunjin leaves then, feeling confused and holding off a real heartbreak. He ignores everyone the rest of the day; head a mess. Is the “him” in question - Hyunjin? Or is it someone else? He doesn’t know which option would hurt less. He tries to keep some distance between them, but it’s futile. Chan wraps his arms around him and nuzzles his face into his neck, whining about everyone ignoring his love, and Hyunjin breaks. He refuses to check if Jisung is watching them or not.
Happenstance number ????: There’s a - moment, per se. Hyunjin wakes up in the middle of the night to get some water and passes by Chan’s door. He hears a mutter of his own name and it shocks him awake, the flood of adrenaline waking him up immediately. Noises, faint through the door, yet very clearly sexual. Hyunjin stays rooted to his spot until they crescendo into a soft muffled whine, and then leaves. He barely sleeps that night.
They never end. These little moments that bury themselves in his consciousness and keep him awake at night. Nowadays it’s either the comeback or Chan he’s thinking about. Nothing else. He salts his coffee, buttons his shirt the wrong way, and forgets his lyrics during pre-recordings. Things are going wrong because his mind is stuck on everything Chan related. It’s annoying and it’s frustrating and Hyunjin’s just so-.. So tired.
“What did that poor flower do to you?”
Felix sits next to him, checking his makeup in the mirror. The stylist already moved onto the next member, Hyunjin’s face all made-up, and he wonders for how long he’s been zoned out. He holds a rose in his hand, one he’d stolen from the bouquet the hosts they’re about to film an interview for gave them. It’s all crumpled up, petals squished and ripped apart. He hisses and bends over to gather the mess on the floor in his palm, not wanting to make the staff clean up after him.
“No, really, are you okay? You’re been out of it lately. Is it all the schedules?”
Them too. But the fault lies with the man walking around their changing room bare-chested right now, waiting for his shirt to be ironed. Hyunjin’s eyes flicker to him minutely, through the mirror, carrying a tinge of yearning and want. Felix whips his head to see what he's staring at immediately and Hyunjin realizes that he just gave himself away.
“Oh! sh*t, Jisung was right.”
It’s Hyunjin’s turn to look at Felix, shocked and affronted. “What do you mean by that?”
Felix leans in, eyes wide and sparkly, and whispers loud enough for the entire room to hear. “You have a crush on him, right?”
You could hear a pin drop with the way the room suddenly quiets down. Minho stops screaming and looks at them wide eyed, followed by a puzzled Jeongin and a few curious glances from their younger staff members. Jisung looks like he’s about to bolt out of the room, sending little pathetic glances Hyunjin’s way. The staff are the first to move on, going back to their jobs, and hopefully to keeping their mouths shut.
“A crush? What are we talking about?” Minho’s already prowling towards them, eyes going between a mortified Hyunjin and Jisung.
“Did you just say ‘him’?” Jeongin’s sitting on the edge of his seat, mouth wide open. Changbin and Seungmin are sitting next to him, exchanging little awkward glances. The two look between Felix and Jeongin, minds working overtime to figure out what context they’re missing. Hyunjin, being the dumbass he is, looks at Chan again, who’s just putting on his shirt, completely unaware. Hyunjin licks his lips, trailing his eyes up and down.
Felix slaps the back of his arm, wide eyed, looking like he’s trying to throttle him with his eyes. Minho clicks his tongue and squints at them, sneaking a glance at Chan. The others do the same.
“Oh my God?!” Changbin stands up, laptop flying off his lap and onto the floor. He takes a few steps forward, pointing to Hyunjin and then to a distracted Chan, and opens his mouth. Seungmin, sensing the screech the other is about to unleash on them, gets up and slaps a hand over his mouth. Jeongin’s sitting stock-still, staring at the wall behind Hyunjin with his mouth still hanging.
“What’s going on?” The devil walks over, with a casual confident stride. He truly doesn’t realize how good he looks. Felix bats his eyelashes and laughs. “Nothing. Anyway, how much time do we have left?” Chan's shirt hugs his shoulders just right, the first two buttons left open, his full chest peaking out sensually. Hyunjin turns away from their leader, mouth suddenly full of saliva.
“About ten minutes? Why?”
Felix smiles and waves him off. “No reason, just needed to take a sh*t.” He stands up and grabs Hyunjin’s arm, dragging him out of the room. Chan’s voice echoes behind them, an incredulous “With Hyunjin??” following them into the busy hallway. Felix drags him into a one-person bathroom and locks the door. “I need to know everything. And you’re not leaving this room before you tell me what’s going on.”
So, naturally, Hyunjin braces himself and spills his guts to the only person who'd understand his plight, unable to stop any of his thoughts from coming out in a thoroughly jumbled mess. Somehow, Felix understands all of it. By the time they’re back and getting re-powdered, Hyunjin's mind is fifty pounds lighter and Felix is grinning like he won the lottery. Chan eyes them with distrust, looking disgruntled whenever any of them try to tease him.
Hyunjin hopes, deep down and very childishly, that it's because of him. And that thought is miserable and putrid for the way it makes his gut clench. He needs Chan’s ire, he needs his jealousy and attention like a fish needs water. It's a selfish and unhealthy thought but he couldn't care less. Especially not when one of the hosts starts flirting with Chan, heavily, throughout the entirety of their interview, and Chan flirts back.
Hyunjin avoids him for the next few days, incredibly pent-up, with residual jealousy running through his veins. It's a toxic combination and he fears it'll burst out of him at the most inopportune of times. It's not even that he's jealous that gorgeous, kind and smiley Chan flirts with other people. The man isn't his. But it feels wrong to see it with his own eyes.
“Are you crushing or like, in love?”
Hyunjin stops sketching and looks up, eyeing Jisung where'd he'd holed himself up in his armchair. There are crumbs around his mouth and on his oversized hoodie. His hair is held back by one single pin and a whole lot of hope. “What?”
Jisung waves a hand around, grimacing when he accidentally flings crumbs everywhere. He slouches over his bag of chips like a goblin, careful not to make more of a mess than he already did. “Y'know. The Chan thing.” He says it like it's a curse, looking around and whispering.
Hyunjin pretends the question doesn't make him nervous, sketching a few flowers around what looks to be an arm. It's easy to tell that it's their leader's arm. Jisung keeps staring at him creepily. “There is no Chan thing, Sung. Whatever you're imagining is caused by those late night hangouts with Minho you've been having lately.”
Jisung snorts and rolls his eyes, mumbling quietly under his breath, “At least we don't pine over each other like two lovesick losers.”
A few days ago, when Hyunjin raided Jisung’s closet for one of his shirts, he’d realized that most of the other’s stuff was gone. Jisung is barely home nowadays, and Hyunjin is slowly accepting that it’s just how things will be like from now on. It scares him a bit, but it's fine.
Hyunjin grabs one of his pencils and chucks it at the little guy, hitting him square in the forehead. A part of him, maybe leftover from predebut, still enjoys watching Jisung suffer, and he's not ashamed of it. “No, you're right. Instead, you two role-play two best friends deeply and secretly in love with each other yet simultaneously obvious to the other's affection. Wow. That's so much better.”
Jisung whines and throws his pencil back, pouting into his chip bag. “It's all about the yearning. It’s fun. What do you even know, noodle ass.”
They sit quietly for a while, watching TV while doing their own thing. Hyunjin takes a break when the man on his page starts looking a little too familiar, and swallows his pride. “It's all about the yearning for me too. It's just.. you at least know what Minho wants and expects of you. You two have this understanding of what's going on. I don't. You already know what Chan thinks of this. And I think you know that we're not on the same page.”
Jisung doesn’t question where Hyunjin’s conclusion comes from; just reaches out and quietly pats his foot, lips a sad triangle. They’re moving, boxes and haphazardly thrown clothes all over the place. Hyunjin alone has five luggages of clothes as is, tightly packed and almost bursting out, with many more waiting to be packed. Changbin is at their place already, setting up the furniture that got delivered first. Jisung is out of the dorm, long since settled with Minho. He didn’t think their last talk would be the last one as roommates. Hyunjin misses him.
A quick meeting with their company changes things for the better(?). Hyunjin doesn't think so.
“Not done yet? Need any help?”
Chan’s leaning against his open doorway the same way he always does, awkward and sexy, all in one. Hyunjin doesn’t remember hearing any footsteps coming his way, too deep in thought. “I guess? I’ll have to ask the manager for more boxes. My paintings don’t fit.”
Chan smiles and nods towards the pile on his bed. “And your clothes.”
Hyunjin hums, going back to folding them. “And my clothes.”
The silence between them goes on for a little too long. His room is stuffy because it’d been raining heavily the past few weeks, and opening the windows meant getting all that humidity inside while his clothes were out in piles ready to mold. Hyunjin would rather suffocate. Chan takes the initiative and steps into his room, careful, as if he’s not allowed in it anymore. He walks towards the bed and starts folding as well.
“I’ll miss you. All of you.”
He’s not really at fault, but Hyunjin scoffs anyway. During the meeting, Jisung and Minho had pioneered the whole discussion of splitting their dorms, talking about privacy and bigger places and cat allergies. Seungmin had followed through, agreeing that it wouldn’t hurt to have more space. Then Jeongin piped in about his need for a bigger closet. Felix and Changbin had just shrugged and accepted where things were going. Hyunjin hadn’t uttered a single word. And he didn’t bother to pay attention to how Chan took it either.
On one hand - it’s a lovely change, a sign of their growth and independence. No longer boys straying through life, but grown men slowly building their lives. On the other - it unsettles him, the change, the spread-apart structure of their tightly packed eight-membered unit. He stayed in his room ninety percent of the time, true, but he still heard Jisung belting random notes from the bathroom, Chan testing out a few things in the kitchen, or Changbin lifting weights in the living room. He had his room and they had theirs and they were near.
Jisung moved out a week ago, officially, taking the last of his things and leaving Hyunjin with a comforting pat on the back. The apartment immediately got colder. It’s only a matter of time until it empties itself out of the rest of them and freezes, like a screenshot of their past. Hyunjin is still not over that blue curtain in their last dorm. How was he supposed to move on from this one with its tiny balconies and lingering scent of chicken breast and protein powder?
At least their new apartments are within walking distance of each other.
“I’ll miss you too.” Hyunjin sneaks a glance at him and catches Chan smiling down at his clothes. His hair has been looking healthier and fuller lately, even if he prefers to hide it under beanies and caps. Hyunjin wants to run his hands through it, wonders if he’s allowed to, still. Maybe he should. Who knows when they’ll be in the same room again. That thought comes through like a sucker punch.
He sours, soft expression fading from his face. They’ve been playing this stupid chasing game for so long now. So many touches, glances and playfully teasing words. If Hyunjin was a braver man he’d have confronted Chan by now, but their latest album holds a song written just for him; a song for which Chan had written the lyrics himself. Hyunjin knows it’s about him, an answer to a question neither of them ever asked. Hyunjin knows what Chan wants and it is not to wake up next to him.
“I’m sure living with Innie will be easier than living with us was.” He fails to drown the spite in his voice, hands a little aggressive with the shirt he’s folding. The seams look stretched thin. Chan stops; stops moving altogether, frozen in his periphery. And Hyunjin refuses to look at him, embarrassment blooming inside his chest.
“Hyunjin.”
His cheeks blaze red. What the f*ck prompted him to say that? He knows that Chan can feel whatever current is buzzing between them. Has been feeling it for a long time, the same as Hyunjin. But he doesn’t know if the older one recognizes or sees it for what it truly is. He wrote that stupid f*cking song to begin with. Without ever asking Hyunjin about how he feels. Without ever giving them a chance.
“Hyunjinnie..”
A hand lands on his shoulder and he stops maniacally folding and refolding the same shirt. He blinks a few times and looks up, guarded. Chan is looking down at him like he pities him, warm and sorry. Hyunjin wants to throw up. “What?”
Chan leans down until he’s at eye level with him, running his hand from his shoulder down to his arm, squeezing it lightly. It burns. “Are you mad at me?” His voice is soft and it carries over to Hyunjin’s ears like honey. It’s so unfair.
“It’s so unfair,” It slips out of him, his first honest thought in a while, not veiled in any kind of courtesy. And he can’t stop. “It’s unfair because I thought we were doing, having, something. Together. We were..- I thought you’d ask me. I thought you’d ask me to room with you, and then you turned to Jeongin and asked him instead. I thought you’d change your mind when Binnie grabbed my hand and whisked me away. I don’t understand why I seem to be the only one affected here. It’s unfair and it makes no sense to me and I hate it!”
Chan’s hand slips down and away, face unreadable. Hyunjin could’ve slapped him and it’d have looked better than whatever he’s doing right now. “Oh, Hyunnie.. I’m sorry-”
Hyunjin blinks down at his lap, noticing the wetness gathered in the curve of his lower lashes. Curse him to cry because of love - because of his unyieldingly romantic heart. Because of Chan too; of all people. “I know you wrote that song about us, about me. And I was fine with it, I had to be fine with it. And then you kept touching me like it meant something, looking at me like I’m more than just the man you flirt with. You might like it, the push and pull and the what if’s. But I don’t, and you know it.”
Chan’s face goes through a hundred and some expressions, the guilt and the confusion jumping out at Hyunjin first. He pushes his remaining clothes into a few bags, to be folded some other time, and gets up, reaching for his phone. “I’m gonna call the manager to help me move these to the apartment. We can talk later.”
He doesn’t give Chan a chance to recover, or think of something to respond with to his sudden outburst. Hyunjin gave him months. He's allowed to be petty now. And he won’t make the same mistake again. The manager comes and helps him load the bulk of his things into the van. He chooses to sleep at his new place that night, crying himself dry and then deliriously laughing about it. How unserious love is. Drama and angsty yearning, all prettily packaged in pink.
For the next few days, his mood bleeds into the way he behaves. It’s a known thing. One time he’d watched a drama that f*cked him up so bad the entire group suffered for weeks on end due to his constant breakdowns. When he hurts inside he radiates it everywhere around him, coating everything in a sad thin film. And despite the many years he’d spent trying to internalize his big feelings, sometimes they still manage to spill out in waves and waves.
During their practice for the iDays festival, mere days before they have to fly out to Italy, his mood gets the best of him. Hyunjin forgets a few moves and when Minho corrects him for the seventh time - brows furrowed and mouth pulled down with visible discontent - Hyunjin just up and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him, scaring a few passing-by staff members.
He goes to the same bathroom he always does, the one where most of their fights used to happen predebut and where no one else goes. He clutches onto the sink, feeling a stone pit the center of his heart, dragging it down. He’d promised his family and the people who supported him that nothing will get between him and his group, and now he spends his days crying about some guy with curly hair and dimples. Felix finds him like that.
“Jinnie? Oh, baby..”
A soft little hand, calloused and raw from rubbing against their worn practice floors, touches the back of his neck. Hyunjin shudders, turns towards the little light of a man and hugs him, wetting the already sweaty jacket with his own tears. Felix shushes him and wraps his arms around his head, holding him just like his mother would when he was little and too clumsy for his own good, knees forever scrapped up. “I’m so stupid, Lix. I’m so, so stupid.”
There’s a sigh, and then Felix pushes Hyunjin’s head away from his chest, holding his plump cheeks in a tight grip. Felix watches him for a few seconds, wiping his cheeks dry, and then blurts out. “You’re not. Chan’s just a c*nt.”
His words are so co*cksure and straightforward that they take Hyunjin out of the downward spiral he’d been in for the past few days. It makes him laugh, a wet sound that Felix immediately covers with a paper towel. “Blow.” Hyunjin listens and blows his nose, not a drop of embarrassment in him. They’d helped wax each other’s balls, a booger wouldn’t change their friendship. It still makes Hyunjin chuckle, as he washes his face. The corners of his eyes are pink, raw from crying, and he despises it.
“You’re so cute when you cry. You get all puffy and your lips go all ducky. Little dumpling.” Felix runs a hand through his damp hair, untangling a few knots and patting most of the sweat away with paper. When Hyunjin’s done washing his face, he goes back to hugging Felix, gently folding his limbs close to his body and curling into the shorter one’s chest. He feels like a worm seeking warmth, damp, a little gross, pathetic and needy. Felix laughs and it flows through Hyunjin like syrup. Pure medicine.
“Please don’t tell anyone I was having emo hours in the sh*tter.”
Felix laughs even harder, jostling Hyunjin’s tired body. But it’s so warm and familiar, it doesn't bother him at all. It doesn’t matter that Felix, or Jisung, or even Minho, all live in different apartments from him. They’re still so close, whenever he needs them. All of them. Even Chan. Hyunjin pulls back from the warm hug, facing the stinky air of the bathroom with all his courage. “I think I’m better. It’s just been a bit rough for me.”
Felix smiles, the creases around his eyes looking like little sunrays. “Well of course, dummy. So many schedules, so much stress; us moving too. And then Chan. I know him, I know how he operates. It’s the very reason we didn’t work out. That and we just clung to each other for familiarity. You don’t build an entire relationship just on that. Be patient, and if not, kick his ass and move to better things.”
Hyunjin sniffs and nods, rubbing his nose against Felix’s, before pulling back and letting go of his hands, running his own over his rumpled clothes. “I never really asked, none of us wanted to, to be honest. I mean we knew something was going on, but.. Did you two really date?”
The blonde snorts and wipes his own sweat off, giving him a crooked smile in the mirror. “Oh no. We cuddled, held hands and crushed on each other. Kissed once after debut. That’s about it. I wouldn’t be surprised if Chan got confused by what we two had and expected the same from you. A casual, sweet thing. But we’re not high schoolers anymore, are we? Come on, we have a practice to finish and then we can go home. I can bake cookies and stay over.”
Hyunjin clasps a hand around the other’s waist and pouts, leading them out of the bathroom. “Pretty please.”
Being patient, he thinks, really pays off sometimes. He takes Felix’s words to heart, compartmentalizing all that hurt and love into different little pockets. He sings, practices, dances, paints. They experience Italy, the unbearable heat and the deafening sound of thousands of people screaming their name. The villa they stay at inspires him to take some pictures, for himself and his art. They celebrate another year together, filming a couple hours of it for their fans. He's happy.
Things are going well. Bittersweet, but well. Chan and he smile at each other amicably, joke around, and once the cameras stop rolling they separate ways with equally amicable words. It doesn’t destroy their group; after so many years very few things could, he realizes. He clings to Changbin, his only remaining comfort from their previous dorm, a pillar of stability. Changbin clings to him too, playful as always. It’s nice.
He’s out shopping one day, dragged into it by a very excited Jeongin. He’s there to say yes and no and to clap when Jeongin needs him to. Sneak in a selfie or two as well. Their manager stays behind in the car, minding his business, playing Candy Crush. They’re almost done by the time he finds them again, concerned eyes gesturing outside. They don’t ask questions. It could be anything from dispatch finding them to a horde of crazed fans piling up outside the store and slowly blocking all exits. Hyunjin keeps his head down and holds the back of Jeongin’s jacket as they leave.
There were no fans waiting for them, he remarks, while buckling himself in. One of their main managers, Ilhoon, shakes his head and then his phone, bright screen blinding in the darkness of the car. “Emergency group meeting.”
Jeongin looks up from his own phone, frowning. “I don’t have any messages. What emergency?”
Their manager sighs and turns around, brows furrowed. “Chan and Changbin fought. Hongseok was there to break it off. Sent them to cool down a few minutes ago. None of the others were there, only them two and some of the staff. The other managers are gathering everyone else right now.”
“Channie hyung and Binnie hyung?! What??!”
The man wrinkles his nose and glances, briefly, at a stunned Hyunjin, before turning back to face Jeongin. “I don’t know either, kid. We’ll have to ask them two.”
The road there seems to go on for much longer than it usually does. Hyunjin isn’t stupid; there are only so many reasons as to why Chan and Changbin would fight. Either because of the members themselves or music. And if it’s the members, Hyunjin is involved, judging by their manager’s nonverbal cue.
Chan and Changbin are cooped up in one of the recording rooms, everyone else waiting for them in their usual meeting space on the fifteenth floor. It’s quiet, and everyone’s either tapping their fingers on the shiny plastic table or looking around in concern. Felix immediately gets up and hugs Hyunjin, murmuring something that he’s too zoned out for to hear. Jisung gives him a tight-lipped encouraging smile and keeps one of his hands under the table, copying Minho’s own hand.
Their managers are standing on the other side of the room, talking between themselves.
The door opens, Changbin pushing through first, a dark expression on his face, eyes red, his smile guilty and embarrassed. Chan follows right behind, with the beginnings of a black eye and a sh*t ton of explaining to do.
“What the f*ck?!” Seungmin stands up, leaning on his arms, wide eyed as he gapes at those two incredulously. Jisung pulls him down with a tug of his shirt.
“Alright everyone, let’s proceed.”
Their managers force the two to apologize to each other and then the team, both following through diligently. One of the staff members takes care of Chan's eye, patching it up. Neither mention the reason for their fight, just that Chan said something hurtful, and Changbin, tired and out of his mind, started a fight. It turned physical and Chan ended up slipping and bumping into a sharp corner, nicking the outer part of his eyelid by accident.
Apologies pour out of their mouths, seemingly mostly aimed at Hyunjin, with the way they keep looking at him every few seconds. The meeting ends and they’re all dismissed, told to stay home for the rest of the day, and not get into any other troubles. Seungmin catches Jisung by the hand and wiggles his way into his and Minho’s plans for the evening, claiming jokingly to have missed them too much. Felix leaves with Jeongin, mumbling something about a new game he needs to show him.
Changbin waits until all of their staff members leave the room, eyeing both Hyunjin and Chan with careful and skittish eyes. He approaches Hyunjin, and takes one of his big hands in his smaller ones. “Just know that I overreacted when it wasn’t my place to do so. I'm sorry, but I also don’t regret it at all. Me and Chan hyung talked things through and we’re fine. I’ll talk to you later, okay? There’s someone else that needs you right now.”
Chan waits until Changbin closes the door behind him, talking to one of their managers outside the door, and then stands up, chair scraping the floor with an unpleasant noise. He bows at the waist, as low as he can while standing up. “I’m sorry.”
Hyunjin’s horrified, running up to the man and pushing him back up, eyes wide. “Why are you bowing to me, hyung? Oh my god don’t do that again!”
They’re touching for the first time in weeks and it tingles everywhere, from the tips of his fingers to the bottom of his stomach. Chan places his hands on Hyunjin’s waist and stares right into his eyes, having to look up the tiniest bit. It’s endearing. The eyepatch covers most of his right eye and Hyunjin wants to pepper kisses around it, gently. This man hurt him, but it doesn't compare to the amount of love he'd gifted him with throughout the years.
“There was no other way for me to apologize that’d have felt like enough. I didn’t realize what I was putting you through, and I ignored every sign that led up to it. I made my own conclusions and lived in those delusions by telling myself that it was what you wanted as well. But I knew better. I should’ve approached you after that first time I felt something.”
Those hands grip his waist gingerly, as if afraid to properly take hold of him. Hyunjin grabs them and wraps them around himself - his back, bringing their bodies closer. “Why didn’t you, hyung? I waited for you.”
Chan lets out that self deprecating laugh he does when he’s frustrated with himself, brows pulling together and forming wrinkles in the middle. Hyunjin smoothes them out with a finger, tutting softly. “Because I led myself astray. I convinced myself that someone like you could only ever want casual flirting with me and nothing more. I convinced myself that we could never do this, that it’s purely casual and that there was no place or time for a proper relationship in our field of work.”
Hyunjin hums, swallowing the weighted spit stuck in his throat. “What about now? Do you still think that way?”
The older man shakes his head, unwrapping one arm from around Hyunjin’s waist and grabbing one of his hands. He holds the back of Hyunjin’s hand in his palm, bringing it up to his own face and nuzzling in it. Hyunjin’s heart soars, lips twitching into a soft smile. “I’m still afraid. I’ve always been afraid of commitment and love, especially with someone who means this much to me. You can thank Jisung and Changbin for knocking some sense into me.”
“Oh really?” Hyunjin’s brows lift up into his fringe and Chan laughs.
“Yeah. Jisung cornered me right before moving out, telling me to man up and get my sh*t together or I’ll lose you. I didn’t fully get it, because I was still very much in denial about what was going on. But it made me think. And then I couldn’t stop thinking. About you, and every single moment I brushed off. I thought I was going insane.” The timbre of his voice roughens around the edges and Hyunjin catches the way he blinks up and away, looking over Hyunjin’s shoulder with puffed out lips. “Sorry. I just feel so stupid. I got jealous of you and Changbin, even though it was my fault to begin with. And today.. It just..”
Hyunjin thumbs over his jaw, nodding softly. He’s listening; today he’ll listen. “What happened?”
Chan looks him in the eyes, full of puppyish guilt and remorse. “I got jealous. I don’t even remember how it started but we were talking about the new dorms and he mentioned how happy you two were, and the whole newlywed thing and I..- I told Binnie to keep you in check so you could stop flirting around so much. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it and I was taking my insecurities out on the both of you. Naturally, Binnie punched me in the face.”
Hyunjin’s expression of disappointment morphs into one of delighted shock and he laughs, throwing his head back, before it fully hits him and he’s back to gripping Chan’s face in his hands. “Oh, you stupid little fragile man. Are you okay? Why did you lie to everyone else?”
Chan sniffs and mumbles under his breath, plush lips barely moving. “It’s embarrassing.”
Hyunjin laughs, tapping Chan’s forehead with the back of his hand. “Stupid. Apology accepted. Don’t make me cry again or I’ll tell Lixie exactly what you told Binnie about me.” He watches the way Chan shakes his head, shuddering and then whining under his breath.
“Don’t. Please. He never shows me any grace when I f*ck up.”
“Well, he did. Back when you were making googly eyes at each other and your slow ass never caught on. I'd say he was showing very much grace by staying your friend even after that.” Hyunjin smirks, rubbing the tip of Chan’s ear before flicking it.
Chan goes taut in his arms, visibly cringing. “Don’t mention that. I suffer mental breakdowns if I think too hard about it.”
Hyunjin leans in, humming as he traces the other’s ear down to his lobe, letting his hand fall on his neck. He remembers gripping it so long ago, quite literally holding Chan’s breath in his hands. His lips brush against the bridge of the older’s pretty nose and he feels on his chin the shaky breath Chan lets out. “Is that so? Who says you’re not gonna do the same to me? What if we kiss and you run away to hide in your studio forever?”
Chan whines, brushing the tip of his nose against Hyunjin’s. They share a breath. “I was young and stupid back then. And what I felt for Felix was a crush. Neither of those things are true when it comes to you. I’ve never wanted someone as badly as I do you. In every way. Let me make things right. Please. One chance, and if I f*ck up you’re allowed to punch me too.”
Hyunjin hums and closes his eyes, the corners of his lips lifting up slightly. “Christopher, you talk too much.” He swallows the other’s defiant huff, pressing their mouths together possessively, licking over plush trembling lips and daring Chan to pull away; to run. Chan wraps his arms around him tighter and kisses back instead, tilting his head in a way that allows him to pry Hyunjin’s lips apart. It pulls a soft breathy noise out of him.
When they come back to it, the world around them is hazy, the setting sun filtering through half-opened blinds. It’s exhilarating, watching Chan while he stares at Hyunjin’s lips earnestly, his own mouth red.
“Would it be inappropriate to confess, that the first time I realized I might be more into you than I’ve allowed myself to think was when I saw you with your co*ck out?”
Chan’s eyes slide back up to his and he blinks, chuckling in disbelief. “What? Are you serious? I always used to get naked in the dorms though?”
Hyunjin nods and shrugs, smiling a coquette little thing. Chan’s arms run up and down his back, settling on the dip of it, right above his ass. “The light was framing it extra nicely that day, not my fault. And then later that night we kinda tumbled around and.. You know.. ”
A soft kiss gets pressed on the corner of his mouth and then Chan hides his face in Hyunjin’s neck, nuzzling the warm skin there with a soft sigh. “Mine was the filming for red lights. I was just too slow to realize what it was back then. Because of course everyone is just slightly more attracted to one of their bandmates. Very expected, very normal.”
They both giggle and sway until the sun dips beyond horizon and the room plunges into darkness. Chan leans back and gathers their things, like the gentleman he is, and then thrusts a hand out for Hyunjin to take, dimples out. Hyunjin, of course, takes it, curling his long fingers between thicker ones. “I demand our first date to be in about two hours. In bed. With your co*ck in me.”
Chan’s face falls, his one good eye opening wide. Hyunjin has to tug him out of the room and through the empty hallway himself, laughing all the way down to the car, where a tired manager sits almost asleep, resting his head on the wheel. He takes one look at their locked hands and sighs heavily. “Which dorm?”
“Mine first!” Hyunjin gets in and refuses to let go of Chan’s hand, gripping it tightly. He’s been waiting for this for too long to act obtuse now. He knows what he wants and he’ll get it, damn it. “So,” He sneaks a glance in the rearview mirror, lowering his voice, “Two hours? Is that okay with you? Not too fast?”
Chan squeezes his hand and watches his side profile for a few seconds, before whispering back. “It's perfect, just like you. Two hours.”
He gets dropped off first, and the manager looks away when Chan pecks him on the lips, brief and sweet, a promise for later. Hyunjin watches the car go and then rushes inside, squealing all the way up to his place. The door beeps open and he shuts it behind him with a little too much swing, running straight to his room. Changbin isn’t home, and that makes everything feel even more real than it is. He sends him a message just in case, warning him to stay out for the night. Changbin replies with a suspicious gif of a train passing through a mountain, phallic shaped and all.
Showering has never felt better, knowing that he might get his guts rearranged later by the man of his dreams. His nerves start showing their teeth just as he’s done drying his hair. He pulls it up into a fluffy ponytail, with shaky hands, bangs gently framing his face. They're shaking so hard he drops the lotion twice. There’s only half an hour left.
“It’s fine. I’m okay. f*ck.”
Excitement is a dizzying emotion when it’s been simmering for months, waiting to pounce. He’s wobbly legged as he dresses himself into a simple oversized long sleeve and a pair of his shortest shorts. May Chan suffer the same way Hyunjin does with his crop tops and sleeveless shirts. Fifteen minutes. Hyunjin runs out and grabs one of the sparkly wine bottles Versace sent him as a gift. It’s a big occasion, afterall. He reads through the labels and struggles with finding a bottle opener before realizing he doesn’t need one. Five minutes.
Chan sends him a text message just as Hyunjin’s rethinking his choice of clothes, standing in the middle of his living room on uneven feet, rocking back and forth with two glasses in one hand. He’s here. He’s here. They know each other’s keypad passwords and Hyunjin hastily sets the glasses down on the coffee table just as Chan pushes the door open, a soft click and buzz following right after.
“Jinnie?”
Hyunjin slides on the polished laminate floors in his fluffy socks and greets Chan just as he rounds the corner, catching the moment his smile lights up his eyes and pushes his dimples out. f*ck etiquette. He grabs Chan’s face and kisses him breathless, pulling away only when he gets a little lightheaded. “I’m sorry. I’m just so excited.”
Chan smiles, breathing just as hard as Hyunjin does, holding him around the waist - something that’s quickly becoming familiar to him. “I am too. I mean, I’m always excited to spend time with you, but we usually don’t do it like this.”
Hyunjin tugs him to the couch, finally noticing the bags. Of course Chan would take care of something Hyunjin hasn’t even thought of. There was, truly, no one like him. “Food?”
Chan nods and gets to work arranging it on the little coffee table, sitting down on the floor and eyeing the wine with interest. Hyunjin joins him, pressing their thighs together, and pours them a glass each. His hands are no longer trembling, but his stomach flutters every time he looks at Chan.
“I love when you let your hair be all natural. It looks good.” Hyunjin runs a hand through it, enjoying the way Chan’s neck follows the movement, tilting and curving up. It’s like petting a puppy. Chan levels him with a soft smile and pushes a pair of chopsticks in his hand, gently telling him to focus.
“Eat first. Then we play.”
Hyunjin stuffs noodles in his mouth, slurping them up with a groan. He swallows and looks at Chan, licking the corner of his mouth where a drop of sauce lingers. “Play?”
Chan’s gaze snaps up to his eyes. He looks a little dazed, flushed. “Yeah,” He reaches over and wipes Hyunjin’s mouth with a napkin, pulling on his lower lip and watching it bounce back, “Play.”
Hyunjin only manages to finish half of his food, rinsing his mouth with two glasses of wine, before Chan hauls him up and off the floor, throwing him on the couch. Everything is sharp yet foggy, a string of images and noises and so many feelings flashing through him after that. Chan pushes his long legs apart, running his hands all over. He pecks him on the lips, on the valley between his pecs, before he fully descends on Hyunjin’s co*ck like a f*cking maniac. He doesn’t know where his shorts and shirt went, too busy contorting and whining on his plush new couch while the other sucks the soul out of him.
His plump lips feel like heaven and the grip with which he holds Hyunjin down, forcing him to take it, soothes a more masoch*stic part of him. When he comes it’s a religious experience. He thinks he hears Felix singing in a choir of angels.
“More. Please, please f*ck me! Hyungie, please..-!”
Chan slaps the inside of his thigh - kisses it better, kisses and licks down his taut balls and taint; there’s a packet of lube in his hands and Hyunjin thanks God for giving him a well-prepared man. The insides of his knees, his thighs, and the plush fat of his ass are marked purple by the time Chan’s three fingers in him. He’s relentless, milking his prostate and watching Hyunjin writhe through it, mouth always pressed on a part of his body. He nuzzles into the faint stubble of Hyunjin’s happy trail and sighs, pressing a soft kiss on the small bulge of his stomach.
“Shh, baby. I’ll f*ck you. Be patient. Hold yourself open for me.”
Hyunjin does just that, breathing hard and struggling to grip his legs and keep them open, hands sliding on wet skin. He’s damp all over, sweat pooling in every little nook and cranny of his body. Chan seems to love it, wrapping a hand around his oversensitive co*ck and squeezing it up to the tip, until he has a handful of precum. Hyunjin moans when Chan uses it to add onto the lube already dripping off his co*ck. His big, thick co*ck. Oh f*ck.
“You’re gonna break me. Hyungie, you’re gonna break my hole.”
Chan bends over with a grunt, holding the base of his co*ck in a tight grip. His face is scrunched up tightly as he hisses through his teeth. “I suggest you shut up for a few minutes, baby. I don’t wanna cum yet.”
Hyunjin nods and furrows his brows, watching Chan’s co*ck as he guides it into him, feeding it to his hole. It’s better and worse than he’d thought it’d be. It’s worse because his eyes keep slipping shut, too overwhelmed to watch. And it’s better because it stretches him far beyond what he'd expected. Hyunjin’s head flops back when Chan pushes the last of himself in him, a soft whine reverberating through the room. Chan’s hands slip on the damp skin of his waist. He slides them up to Hyunjin’s shoulders instead, where he grips the sides of his neck, not choking, just holding him for leverage.
“Good?”
There’s no way Hyunjin can answer, with the way his mind clouds over, empty. But he nods anyway, wrapping his legs around Chan’s waist.
They f*ck for what feels like hours. He remembers Chan picking him up and pressing him against one of the walls, holding his thighs and bouncing him loosely on his co*ck. Praising him, kissing the full shape of his chest. He remembers falling asleep after coming a third time, with Chan holding onto his little ponytail and railing him from behind. He wakes Chan up in the middle of the night because he’s thirsty and can’t walk. Chan whines about it until Hyunjin calls him boyfriend.
They f*ck again, and are then very late for their recording session in the morning. No one says anything, too busy cooing over Jeongin's sudden affectionate mood. No one notices the hand their youngest keeps on Felix's back.
Hyunjin floats through the day on wobbly legs and a sore ass. And Chan? He's oblivious to every stare thrown their way, giggling and nodding to everything Hyunjin tells him, head empty. Felix pulls him aside and lifts his eyebrows, there’s a very obvious unspoken question in his eyes and Hyunjin nods, a huge smile blooming on his face. The blonde fist bumps him and pats him on the ass, laughing as he walks away. Hyunjin knows that by the end of the day all of them are gonna know, courtesy of Felix.
Maybe that should’ve scared him a bit, being open about their relationship before they’ve put a name on it. But during one of their breaks, Chan joins him on the floor and threads their fingers together, looking at him like he hung the stars in the night sky. They’ll be fine.
