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𐙚
Soobin has been fighting exhaustion for months now, physically, mentally, and, well, emotionally too. And it’s been a lot. Idol life was never supposed to be easy, but Soobin doesn’t think it should have been this hard either.
Maybe it’s just him. No, he knows it is just him, because he always watches them from afar.
He sees the way light flickers in Huening Kai’s eyes when he’s dancing on stage, and he sees the tears in Taehyun’s eyes when he sings Song of the Stars, and he knows he feels it. He is exactly where he’s supposed to be. And Beomgyu, ever since his Panic release, has been shining; there’s a brightness around him that Soobin notices. It all fills his heart.
And then there is Yeonjun, and Soobin’s heart dies a little every time he dares to think of him. Yeonjun’s hard work reached a peak during this promotion period, putting in more hours, making sure every little detail about the comeback stayed perfectly in place, from concept to choreography. His talent pours out and he makes use of it, and he fights, and fights, battling exhaustion with determination, breaking through barriers he didn’t think he could. If he falls, he works harder to do better, to be better, and it hurts Soobin to watch.
He can’t stop it, can’t intervene, can’t even tell him to take a break. He feels like his right to do so slipped through his fingers one too many nights ago, under the soft glow of his bedroom light, when emotions hit stronger than rationality.
Despite everything, he tries to be there for everyone. It’s his job, he’s the leader, and honestly, he loves doing it. During the day, Soobin does whatever he can, which is his best. He isn’t sure if it’s working, but the response from the fans makes it seem like it is paying off.
He puts on a smile, tries to be more himself than he’s ever been, and honestly, he lets things be. He starts saying whatever the hell he wants on camera, blurting things out. It’s how he copes with everything, because the company already took everything from them, and what’s left is just the paycheck.
And he’s not only fighting for himself but for all of their freedom. There’s not a single time when Soobin thinks about himself, because he doesn’t feel himself without the other four. They make him whole, and he makes them be. A constellation of shining lights coming together in one big astral figure, outshining in the night sky, for themselves, for their fans, for their families.
One of the reasons Soobin has never given up, despite the hardships, despite himself, despite the lack of motivation at times, has always been them. Soobin cannot imagine a life without his members; even the thought of it devastates him, makes him want to cry. He does cry sometimes.
When he first sang “Song of the Stars” in the recording studio, he started sobbing out loud, and they all had to stop rehearsing to give Soobin some space and sit with the overwhelming emotion. It was strong, and he wasn’t the only one who felt it. Their eyes shone wet, too, but they knew how to hide it a little better.
This comeback was supposed to be big–it actually is big–and all of it washed over Soobin the second he started singing that song, because that’s when it all sank in. A chapter is closing, and they are no longer the teenagers they once were. The unknown is knocking fiercely at their door, and Soobin’s fragile heart freezes at times with worry and anxiety. A fear he tries to keep locked up. And whenever it becomes too much, he knows he is not alone. He’s never been. It’s what keeps him going, what holds him through it.
Though, through it all, the one who’s been there the most has always been his hyung. And Yeonjun is not there for him anymore, not as much as he used to, because Soobin has made a mistake, and he doesn’t know what to make of it. He is afraid to go to Yeonjun.
He used to talk to him about all of his feelings. He used to cry himself to sleep while Yeonjun held him close, a soothing hand drawing calming circles on his back as he told him he was there, that he was alright, that they would be okay. Yeonjun always understood, and Soobin’s weakness was his alone to see. He was the only hyung, while Soobin carried the weight of being strong for the others. Yeonjun just knew how much that strength meant.
Soobin might have fucked up big time this time, and while he tried not to show it, now, when the dorm lights are off and everyone is sleeping soundly in their rooms, the silence is eating at Soobin’s mind the loudest. And the worst part is, he can’t knock on Yeonjun’s door anymore.
The comeback promotion period is over, and Soobin has a hard time falling asleep. But when he does, his heart feels heavy. He blames himself a lot, too. He should just bring it up, talk to Yeonjun, but he doesn’t know what to say. He feels lost, like a shadow wandering through a city that no longer feels like home. His home was the safety, the reassurance Yeonjun meant for him, but he’s scared he can no longer have that.
𐙚
The next morning, when he wakes up, Soobin feels a little more rested. He joins Taehyun for his morning gym session, and the day looks a bit brighter with a cleared schedule ahead. His head still aches slightly, still recovering from a fucked-up sleep schedule, but he tries to push it away. Only, the smile on his face isn’t convincing, and he hates it when the members can read him like that, like an open book.
When Taehyun asks what’s wrong, Soobin doesn’t tell him. He could never tell him. He brushes him off, saying it’s just exhaustion, but that he’ll be fine.
Taehyun doesn’t seem to believe him fully, his concerned gaze scanning him for the entire gym session. While Soobin understands he means well, he feels frustrated. He can’t talk about it. He can’t share it with anyone. It’s just stupid.
He tries not to think about it too much, and the busy schedules help him keep those thoughts at bay for a while. But there are moments when Soobin’s mind drifts back to that night months ago. And he gets annoyingly infuriated by it–by himself, by how he managed to ruin it all. He thinks of plump lips and soft kisses, wet hair, and water droplets falling from Yeonjun’s hair. He thinks of faint touches and quiet huffs. He relives it, shivers raising the hairs on his body at the faint memory of Yeonjun’s simplest touch. He remembers how his heart threatened to rip out of its cage the second Yeonjun crawled over him, and he gets flustered, embarrassed.
He remembers their exchange, the little, innocent confession. He remembers it all, and he hates himself for allowing it to happen, because Soobin has never known what to do with it. He has never understood Yeonjun and what the next step should be. He was scared they might ruin everything, and while being at it, he managed to push Yeonjun away.
Not in the sense that they didn’t interact anymore, there was still a silent, maybe quieter connection lingering. It was hidden in small gestures, little exchanged glances that just knew, small smiles that stayed for a little too long.
But Soobin, stupid, annoying Soobin, had made it clear he wanted space, he wanted time, and Yeonjun…
Oh, dear Yeonjun. He was considerate, and he gave it to him. Soobin pushed him away quietly, and Yeonjun stood back, understanding, a kind look in his eyes, just knowing, waiting. It made Soobin fall in love a little more every day. And it was exasperating.
Because Soobin needed Yeonjun the most right now, emotionally, as he had always been his lifelong support, it didn’t feel like he could reach out. It would be unfair to Yeonjun, to what he had said, to what he expected from Soobin. And Soobin couldn’t help but feel like he had disappointed him in everything. He let Yeonjun down when he was supposed to hold him up on a pedestal, after having the courage to take the first step.
But what was that first step leading to? Soobin was too scared to answer that question, and while he knew Yeonjun deserved an answer, he couldn’t give it to him.
Soobin came to realise that this time, the exhaustion might not come from his idol career or active life, but from overthinking, from his hyperfixations on every single glance Yeonjun threw his way.
He dies a little every single time, with regret, with want, with the desperate need for closure.
He sits at the seated chest press machine, pushing and pulling the handles when Yeonjun enters, taking a seat on the cable crossover machine opposite him. He starts moving his arms with the weights, but his eyes settle on Soobin. His gaze burns into him, questioning, and he can’t look away. He feels a tingling sensation burning his skin, as if his body is craving to remember how it felt, how it sounded.
He tries to force himself to focus on the burn in his muscles, on the rhythm of the weights, on the simple mechanics of the movement, but his mind keeps wandering, pulling him back to Yeonjun. Every imagined touch, every glance, sets his skin on fire. His body responds before his brain can catch up, betraying him, and frustration coils tighter in his chest.
He finally throws down the handles and storms out of the gym, leaving Taehyun and Yeonjun behind, their faces etched with concern.
𐙚
The hot water burns Soobin’s skin, but it does little to dull the ache in his body. He tries to will his boner away, pressing himself against the stream, hoping the sting of the water will distract him. He’s alone, thankfully, in the gym showers, but that doesn’t stop the heat creeping through him, an ache mixed with frustration, want, and guilt all at once.
Weeks, no, months of pent-up tension have built into this moment. The water can’t wash the feeling away.
Maybe it wasn’t just his obsession with Yeonjun and the memory. Maybe it was a natural reaction of the body, since he hadn’t taken care of himself. The running water helps him clear his mind; it soothes him, eases him a little. Maybe he needs to let it out a bit. Maybe it’s actually normal, and after everything, things will go back to normal. Soobin will realise it’s been just tension he needed to release, and nothing more.
He takes a deep breath and glances around to check the empty shower stalls. Sure, there isn’t much privacy, but there are walls between stalls, and Soobin would surely hear if anyone entered the bathroom.
He lets out a deep breath and leans against the wall behind him, keeping the shower head pointed at his hair. He looks down at his painfully hard cock and lets out a long, relieved sigh as he closes his eyes, fingers wrapping around it.
He doesn’t have to force it. The images come so naturally: plush lips, a whiny voice echoing in his ears, Yeonjun’s needy moans, his eyes burning with desire as he looks at him. And it’s not made up, it’s a memory, a memory Soobin relives with every single stroke, and it feels so good, so natural.
He almost whines Yeonjun’s name, and maybe he does, he can’t remember, when he hisses. Then he hears the unmistakable sound of the door opening, and his body goes completely rigid. Stone cold. Heart hammering, heat crawling across his skin. Mortified doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Yeonjun is here. Stumbling, eyes wide, shocked, as if he’s just walked in on Soobin jerking off in the shower.
Wait. That’s exactly what’s happened.
Soobin’s hand is still wrapped around his cock. For the next ten seconds, neither of them moves, both frozen, too stunned to speak. All the blood rushes to Soobin’s face and ears until he feels like he’s burning alive. Death, he thinks, would be kinder than this.
“I-Soobin–” Yeonjun finally regains his composure and quickly covers his eyes. “I didn’t mean to–sorry, I just wanted to make sure you’re alright and then– I– I’m sorry I heard… I didn’t mean–”
Soobin turns off the shower and throws a towel around his waist. He can’t possibly look at Yeonjun, can’t talk to him now–or ever again.
He needs to run away. As far as possible. Now!
Yeonjun seems to follow, but Soobin just needs to be alone. He needs to be away from Yeonjun, as far away as possible. This can’t be happening.
“Soobin– I’m sorry, please, I was really worried.” Yeonjun reaches for his wrist, his eyes soft, concerned.
Soobin jerks his hand back as if the touch burns him. “Please… hyung, just leave me alone,” he hisses, voice tight. His chest feels like it might explode.
He can’t breathe, can’t think, he just needs to get away.
𐙚
Not to be dramatic, but Soobin wants to die.
Not literally die, but the d‑word.
Maybe he’d tried to deny it, but the source of all his frustration had definitely been Yeonjun, the way he felt so stupid about him, so in love and yet so full of layered insecurity he didn’t know what to do with. Yeonjun must think he’s the ultimate idiot. And well… he was.
But did he really have to humiliate himself like this? Couldn’t he have just waited until he got home?
Why did the universe hate him so much? Why did it have to be Yeonjun who saw him? What was Soobin supposed to do now?
He was already considering giving up his entire career just to stay locked up in his room for the rest of his life when he got a text message from Taehyun.
Hyung, I don’t know what happened, but you need to get out of your room. It’s been seven hours, and everyone is concerned.
Soobin throws the phone under his pillow. He knows. He is well aware. But he is now deliberately ignoring responsibility. They had a day off, so be it, Soobin will not leave his room. He can’t possibly see Yeonjun.
He needs a plan. Moving to Canada, or even worse, Romania with the vampires. Anything.
And he lets more hours pass, and he feels even worse. Like falling into a pit he’s never going to get out of. He is a coward, he knows, but what could he possibly do now…
There are more and more text messages from the members, from the group chat; everyone texts him but Yeonjun.
Part of him is relieved, part of him… just wishes Yeonjun would tell him he’s a stuck-up, weird person and that they should forget anything ever happened between them. They should just… go back to being only friends. Not even close friends. Because Soobin doesn’t feel like he deserves Yeonjun as a friend.
Does Yeonjun think he jerked off thinking of him?
Oh God. Soobin feels like dying all over again.
His phone starts buzzing uncontrollably again, and this time Soobin knows it’s Beomgyu. He unlocks the phone and notices it’s already 9 p.m. Soobin hadn’t eaten or gotten out of bed all day.
Hyung, let’s play some League. I know there’s something wrong, and it’s alright. You don’t have to come on Discord. Just play with me, take your mind off it.
Soobin actually considers the idea.
He loves Beomgyu. Beomgyu always knows what he needs the most.
It’s the first time today that Soobin finds his will to live again.
Alright. He replies. I’ll play some ARAM.
𐙚
It takes Soobin ten minutes to get angry at the game and forget about the issue at hand. He knows ARAMs are supposed to be fun, you don’t necessarily have to know the champion when playing; it’s random, after all. But when ionlyplayyasuo and spreadhateonmain123 die seven times each in the first eight minutes, Soobin loses it.
This was such a bad idea. He texts Beomgyu, then dives into a fight with the players. He’s in the mood to be toxic. So what? ionlyplayyasuo needs to either uninstall the game, or Soobin will do it for him.
Can you play instead of roasting the guy? He’s probably like fifteen Beomgyu, the voice of reason, types into the chat privately.
Soobin rolls his eyes and shoots an “ff 15” in the chat, signaling he wants to surrender at minute fifteen. This was a complete waste of time.
He needs to play another game and actually win.
It’s annoying and intense, but the rage gets stuck in his throat the moment there’s a knock on his door. Suddenly, memories hit him in crushing waves of how his morning, no, his entire day, unfolded, and he feels like throwing up all over again.
And look, the problem isn’t Yeonjun walking in on him during the shower. Honestly, it happens all the time, no biggie. But Soobin is a softie; he considers himself pure. Well… he definitely isn’t, but compared to other men he knows, he doesn’t have that much time to masturbate. He does it sometimes to ease the tension. Admittedly, often he thought of Yeonjun. He read some interesting Jujutsu Kaisen fanfics, so that might have been on the list as well, but the count was low. He got embarrassed, cheeks flushed, way too quickly. He quite literally felt like he couldn’t handle himself.
His experience with Yeonjun was honestly the best and the worst thing that had ever happened to him, because… he didn’t know what to do with it.
He fantasised about it, and then he felt guilty every single time. He wanted more, but then he regretted doing it, because he might have ruined Yeonjun’s perception of him. What if he thinks Soobin is a perv? No, wait, he definitely does now, having caught him jerking off after their eyes locked intensely for, what, three seconds?
Soobin can’t live with himself anymore.
He tries to keep his eyes glued to the screen, to the game, ignoring the knocks at his door.
“Soobin-ah.”
It’s Yeonjun.
Soobin feels his stomach growl, and he doesn’t know if it’s hunger or pure, raging panic.
“Open the door for me, please?” Yeonjun continues, ignoring Soobin’s lack of response.
Soobin wants to tell him to leave him alone. There is so much he feels right now, he feels like his chest is going to explode into broken shards, and it’s not only pain. For Yeonjun, Soobin feels so much more: love, pain, adoration, excitement, fear, yearning, blooming hope, guilt. The mix cannot have a name. It’s just a lot. It’s overwhelming, and Soobin simply doesn’t know how to handle it.
He’s reached a point where he doesn’t know where to go from here. Avoidance is off the table. Having an adult conversation is the rational solution, but Soobin never goes into one unless he has a plan, unless he knows what he needs to achieve with it. Right now, he simply does not know.
But the torturous mix of emotions screams for release, like a bottled-up storm. Soobin feels the overflow. He doesn’t know if it’s a good or a bad one, so… he decides to let Yeonjun in.
Nothing worse can happen.
“It’s open,” he eventually says. Yeonjun quietly presses the handle and slips in, not making a sound as he walks to Soobin’s desk.
“Oh, you playing with Beomgyu?” he asks, tentatively but casually.
You can do this, Soobin, you can do this! he tells himself, before nodding.
He is afraid to meet Yeonjun’s eyes. Yeonjun settles behind his office chair, watching him quietly. Soobin feels tense with Yeonjun’s presence behind him, a little too aware of his own pout as he concentrates. He feels Yeonjun’s eyes on him, but he can’t really tell. He tries to relax, to not think about it, but even the sound of Yeonjun’s breath filling the room makes Soobin’s stomach churn.
“Why is your score… so bad?” Yeonjun asks at some point. Soobin feels a sense of relief at the question, as if he’s been holding his breath for a while. Yeonjun’s tone is so calm, so normal, it somehow grounds him.
Maybe this wasn’t such a big deal. Maybe it was only him freaking out.
“Since when… do you understand League scores?” he asks, a bit more serious than intended, but honestly, Yeonjun knows he’s in a mood.
“I don’t,” Yeonjun replies simply, offhandedly. “But I don’t need a lot of League of Legends lore knowledge to know 2/14/15 is a bad score.” He continues, almost amused.
Soobin scoffs. “I was distracted, and I have the worst teammates.”
“Isn’t Beomgyu one of them?”
“Yeah. He’s the worst. I hate him. He steals all my kills.”
Yeonjun lets out a curious oh. “Which one is Beomgyu?” He leans closer into Soobin’s space, pouty as he inspects the monitor and all the characters bundled up in the middle of the screen.
Soobin can’t help but steal a quick look at him, at the way his face looks from the side, up close, and he takes a deep breath. Yeonjun seems to have been out–makeup worn out but still on, a bit of shade smuggled under his eyes from the long day. He looks a bit tired but hot, and Soobin melts a little on the inside. This is precisely why he keeps avoiding Yeonjun. He’s unhealthy for Soobin. Once he gets a taste, Soobin’s concentration goes to shit, and reason flies out the window.
“This one,” Soobin shows him, trying to stay composed, playing it cool. He knows his face betrays his inner turmoil, but he probably looks a wreck anyway, after all, it’s been him and the bed for the entire day. He also feels like a zombie.
“His character looks ugly. What’s the name?” Yeonjun asks with interest.
“Because it is ugly. Mordekaiser. He’s a tank; he can win the game if he tries hard enough,” Soobin explains, eyes back on his screen now, feeling better with purpose.
“Oh, right. I got you a strawberry-filled bread. Taehyun told me you’ve been in here the entire day.” Yeonjun pushes the pastry in front of Soobin’s keyboard, and Soobin can’t help but look at him. When their eyes meet, Yeonjun’s are searching his with visible concern, and Soobin melts in his chair. He can’t even sulk anymore. Why is Yeonjun so kind to him all the time? So caring?
“Thanks, hyung,” he lets out quietly, but quickly unwraps the sweetbread and starts eating. He did starve himself, after all.
Soon the game ends, a huge Defeat plastered on the screen as Soobin finishes his pastry and sinks further into his chair, sighing. The inevitable is closer than he wants, so he tries to mentally prepare.
He quickly sends Beomgyu a message: Hyung is here, play one without me.
Then he pushes his chair to the side to make some space for Yeonjun, who gets the memo and leans against the desk, looking at him, worry still swimming in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he says first, rushed, almost out of breath. He wants to get it off his chest quickly.
“W-Wait, what? No!” Yeonjun frowns at him, confused. “I am sorry! What are you apologising for? I came here to apologise.”
“It’s… hyung, no, don’t. There is nothing to apologise for. I shouldn’t have done that, not there, it’s stupid, I am stupid, I am sorry, I will not-”
“Soobin-ah.” Yeonjun pushes his knee against his, hands still behind his back as he leans against the desk, watching him with a layer of understanding Soobin didn’t know he needed. “Whatever happened this morning is the last thing on my concern list.”
Soobin avoids his eyes.
“This is normal, nothing wrong happened, I shouldn't have come in like that. I was simply concerned, you’ve seemed so distant lately, and I understand, and I want to respect all of your choices, but I also… miss you a lot.” Yeonjun confesses, eyes wide and honest.
“I miss you too,” Soobin says, quickly. Too quickly.
Damn.
This is not how it is supposed to go, but there is a glint of hope resurfacing on Yeonjun’s face.
A small, soft smile appears on his lips, making Soobin feel a tingling sensation in his stomach, churning with something he can’t name. He could just stay like this, looking at Yeonjun, dumbly even, for an entire day and not get bored.
“Do you… wanna talk about it?” he asks, voice shy behind the smile, giving Soobin room to back off.
But there is no point in backing off. Yeonjun is already here, and Soobin wants to look at his face a little longer. He nods.
He avoids his eyes (again) at first. What is he going to say? Why did he start avoiding him to begin with? When? How could he explain?
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Yeonjun mutters again, reassuring. “I don’t want to put any kind of pressure on you.”
Soobin presses his lips together, taking a deep breath. He knows he’s at fault. Yeonjun has done nothing wrong, yet he still finds it in him to be patient with Soobin, who, by the way, is extremely undeserving right now.
“I’m sorry I ran away like that, Yeonjun hyung,” he says in a breath. He looks at Yeonjun, determined to explain, at least. Yeonjun deserves that much. “I…” He’s been nothing but terrible to Yeonjun. He feels like there is no excuse.
Truthfully, he’s been feeling like this for a while, and the more avoidant he became, the heavier it became for him to think of an apology, an explanation, anything…
But Yeonjun is patient. He is kind. He waits, even now, as he looks at Soobin. His eyes don’t hold any negative emotion. They don’t ask, they don’t demand—they just… wait and understand.
“I have no excuse, and I don’t even know why you’re here, willing to listen to me, but I will tell you.”
Yeonjun takes a deep breath too, but the warmth doesn’t leave his eyes; it’s still there, loud yet calm. “I want to say that you have all the excuses in the world, but I won’t, because I also kind of want to kick your ass.” A cute smile plays on his lips. “Because we’re supposed to talk about things, even if we’re uncomfortable, not hide them under the rug until they get unbearable. And you know this the most, Bin‑ah. I will hear you out, that’s why I’m here.”
He starts kneading his palms as he talks; it’s a thing he does. Yeonjun’s hands get cold whenever he’s a bit stressed. Soobin wants to warm them, kiss them.
He gets it. He gets Yeonjun. So he holds back his pathetic instincts and starts thinking of how to say it.
“Maybe the best way to put it is… I’m scared, hyung. I’ve been scared for a while now, and it got to a point where it became overwhelming.” He speaks quietly, yet the more he lets out, the less hesitant he gets with his words. “For what it’s worth, I do believe we… have something going on that we cannot ignore. I always knew that. But I was scared of making a radical decision, so I put it off as best I could. Initially, I thought I needed some time to think about it, but it became harder and harder to reach a conclusion.”
Yeonjun watches him as he speaks, nodding occasionally, encouraging.
“There’s a lot of pressure, the group, my mental state, the comeback, the messy schedules, the constant demand to become better, our members… I just don’t want to disappoint anyone, get distracted, make mistakes, ruin things, ruin us.”
“Do you… regret it?” Yeonjun asks then, a little sadness flickering across his face.
But does Soobin regret it?
He shakes his head. “No, I don’t.” If anything, he wishes he could hold Yeonjun in his arms an unhealthy amount. “I think that’s the problem.”
Yeonjun nods again, thinking. “If you’re afraid I only wanted it to be a casual thing, I said it before, and I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it, Soobin: I’ve always been serious about you. But this also means I can wait… until it’s the right time for you.”
Soobin will fucking cry.
“Hyung…” He suddenly feels overwhelmingly sad. He doesn’t deserve Yeonjun, and a pang strikes the corner of his eyes, tears threatening to spill.
“No, wait. Let’s not make this a big deal, Bin-ah. It doesn’t have to be. I don’t want to be anything more than what you need me to be. If you need a shoulder to lean on, I can be that. If you need a hand to hold onto, I will always offer you mine. If you just need someone to talk to, you know I like to be that person.” There is a pain hidden in Yeonjun’s voice too, quiet, masked by a warm smile and sunny eyes, but something inside Soobin stirs with such force that he feels a tear run down his cheek. “I miss everything we were to each other, Soobin. I don’t only need the things we could be; I want what we had back. I want my cute little leader to come to me. I want us to go through hardships together.”
Soobin softens, really badly. He almost curls into himself to hold back an ugly cry. “Yeonjun hyung… I also want this… Can we, can we have this? Can we be as we used to be? Can we be that?”
“Of course we can, Soobinie.” Yeonjun gets a bit closer and leans in for a short, quick hug, which Soobin manages to catch, and now he thinks he won’t be able to let go. He holds Yeonjun close and tight. After he soaks in the hug, Yeonjun’s warmth, inhales the scent of his shampoo, and gets enough of the Yeonjun dopamine he needed, Soobin loosens his grip and has mercy on Yeonjun’s uncomfortable position.
“But I also want us to…” He hesitates, but he can’t miss this chance. He doesn’t want Yeonjun to misunderstand. God, he doesn’t want Yeonjun to think he wants him to go completely back, as if nothing had happened. “I also want us to be more,” he finally says. “I just… don’t know how.”
“Hey…” Yeonjun whispers, then casually climbs into his lap. To his excuse, the position he was in was pretty uncomfortable, but…
“I’m also scared,” Yeonjun admits, face so close, eyes searching, noses almost touching. Soobin feels his own heartbeat embarrassingly loud. “But it hurts being away from you. Like, physically, it hurts me. And it sounds stupid, I know, but I don’t need more. If you feel, even half of what I feel about you–just… let me be there with you. For you. Let me hold you.”
He traces Soobin’s face softly with his index finger, and Soobin folds under the touch. He doesn’t know if it’s from the fact that he still feels like crying or because Yeonjun is going to drive him mad.
Either way.
Soobin is so in love. Yeonjun doesn’t understand, not even a quarter of it.
And he feels so lost. He doesn’t know how to say it, how to show Yeonjun. He isn’t as good with words as Yeonjun is.
“I don’t think I feel half of what you feel, hyung,” he eventually says, hesitantly. “I think it’s so, so much more. I’m in love. I am desperate.” He finally starts finding his words, confidence growing within him. “I have nights when I fall asleep thinking of you. I have days when I can’t take my eyes off you. I know the pain you’re talking about, because I feel it, and it’s so stupid. Because I feel so, so much for you, I’m afraid I won’t know how to control it.”
He is dead serious when he looks at Yeonjun now, who’s a bit taken aback. Soobin closes his arms around his delicate waist and pulls him a little closer. “I am pathetically in love with everything you are, hyung, and it scares me that I’ll give us away, that it will bounce back, affect the group, and ruin our careers. It’s so bad, I don’t even know how to name it. I had to push it away, I really had to, I just didn’t know what to do with all of it.” The words spill out in a quick rush, stumbling over each other in the process.
Yeonjun’s eyes are wide, glistening with a wetness that reminds Soobin of his own teary eyes.
Yeonjun doesn’t say anything for a while. He gulps, then buries his head in the crook of Soobin’s neck, wrapping his arms around him. He takes a deep breath of Soobin before quietly whispering,
“I’m in love with you, too. I am a loser, you know? For you. I never knew, Soobin, I never knew that this was the reason.”
Soobin feels so much lighter now that it’s out there, his confession, his biggest secret. It hangs in the air between them, sparkling, tingling. It feels warm, it feels good. Soobin feels less scared, because at least Yeonjun knows.
Soobin closes his eyes and buries his nose in Yeonjun’s hair, cosily nuzzling him at his sensitive spots. He hums.
“Hey…” Yeonjun says after a while, leaning back to look at Soobin again. “I think we could try to just… let things happen. Slowly. I mean, I didn’t expect to end up here tonight, like this, anyway. But I guess… we are happening. We are meant to happen. So let’s just… let it be. No label. No pressure. I just… want this.”
His eyes look happier, more confident. Soobin cannot believe this is all for him, all of this Yeonjun and his vulnerable side, just for him.
He hums and nods before bumping his forehead with Yeonjun’s, looking at him. He hopes Yeonjun knows how much he appreciates the patience. “Maybe we can keep it a secret for a while. And take things slow…” He wets his lips as his eyes fall on Yeonjun’s. “Emotionally, at least.” He doesn’t think he wants to be away from Yeonjun physically, anyway.
Yeonjun smiles cutely, almost coos. “Does it mean I get to kiss your cheeks as much as I want? ’Cause I desperately need to.”
“Face cheeks, yes, the other ones, it’s debatable.”
“Ha?” With a scandalous look on his face, Yeonjun covers his mouth. “I never even–”
But Soobin’s eyes darken just a little, the adrenaline of his confession giving him a flicker of confidence. He leans back in his chair, letting a playful sweep of hair fall into his eyes, a quiet challenge to Yeonjun, a subtle reminder that he never regretted what had happened between them.
And Yeonjun doesn’t hesitate. He never does. He leans in and catches Soobin’s lower lip between his, sucking on it gently. He tugs at it, biting ever so softly before leaning back and cupping Soobin’s face in his palms.
“You are such a loser,” he says, his voice still cute and innocent, before pressing another soft peck to Soobin’s parted lips. And then another. Yeonjun’s lips against his felt like second nature to Soobin. Like they’ve done it a million times before.
It all comes natural, the way his own lips chase when Yeonjun retracts, an automatic response of his body, but Yeonjun denies him another kiss; instead, he just settles for looking into Soobin’s eyes, with that deep gaze of his that reads into Soobin’s soul, strips him bare of any walls he put up around himself.
Oh god. Soobin will pass out at any given moment. Honestly, he tries not to squirm. He holds it together.
“I am a loser.” He wets his lips as he says it, and Yeonjun’s own lips turn into a gleaming smile–honest, pretty, just like him. Soobin knew he wouldn’t, not for a second, resist Yeonjun if he got closer again. But now, thinking about it… is it so bad? If Yeonjun feels the same about him, why not give it a try?
Of course, his worries didn’t vanish entirely, and they would surely return harsher when he was alone in his bed again. But at least he could have Yeonjun to ease them. Maybe what he’d been missing wasn’t a solution to his internal crisis, maybe he just needed Yeonjun to hold him.
“It’s not going to be easy…” He needs Yeonjun to hear him, to understand. If there’s one thing Soobin cannot do, it’s pretend everything is okay when it’s not. “I might… be difficult. And I might overthink it…”
Yeonjun’s smile doesn’t falter. “It’s alright. I can take it.”
“And I am super stupid at lying. I’ll need you as a backup at all times. The maknaes can read me like an open book.”
“I’ll do my best.” Yeonjun leans in to kiss Soobin’s cheek, brushing his plush lips against Soobin’s skin. “I don’t need much from you, Soobin-ah. Just let me be there. If you have intrusive thoughts, you can either share them with me or sit with them. And if you can’t fall asleep, just let me know and I’ll sneak in.”
“Hyung… are you sure?”
Yeonjun nods. “Yeah.” He places another kiss, just above the previous one, and Soobin feels a bit too emotional. “Just… make sure always to tell me if you need time, if you need space, if I’m taking too much and you’re not willing to give that.”
“I—yeah, as long as there is no pressure…” He pretends to be contemplating it, doing his best to ignore Yeonjun’s weight on his body and how easy it would be just to throw him onto the bed right now. Soobin feels his cheeks flush with heat at the protruding images. “You can do whatever you want.” He means it. He wants Yeonjun to get it, so he looks at him, eyes huge, wide, telling.
“If you tell me things like this, Soobin-ah, you know I won’t be able to hold back.”
“Then don’t.”
Yeonjun purses his lips adorably. “So that means I can touch you, too?” He asks, a flicker in his eyes giving away his excitement.
“You can do whatever you want, hyung,” Soobin repeats, words a little too slurred, desperate for Yeonjun to just… do it. He feels stupid, powerless, but in a way, that’s what makes it all the more exciting. He has the power to do whatever he wants, but he chooses to be at Yeonjun’s mercy. He lets himself be affected, purposely—he wants all of this to himself, all of Yeonjun’s attention, all for him, on him.
Yeonjun looks at him for a second, eyes searching, letting the information sink in, before pinching Soobin’s cheeks with his fingers. Then he starts molding the skin on his face like he used to back in the day, placing wet kisses on his nose, on his forehead, on his cheeks, again and again. He doesn’t stop. It makes Soobin feel attacked, but nonetheless, the happiest. He doesn’t push him away; instead, he closes his eyes and basks in the feeling.
Yeonjun’s lips. Plush and plump, Soobin’s favorite thing in the world, touching him softly, grazing over his skin over and over again. The touch doesn’t feel overwhelming; it’s feather-light, ticklish, raising the hairs on Soobin’s back and arms. He feels heat coil in the pit of his stomach.
Well, this is not good.
Soobin is used to being kissed on the cheeks by the members, especially by Yeonjun. It shouldn’t feel special, shouldn’t feel any different. But Yeonjun is in his lap now, and Soobin becomes more and more aware of the weight of his body against his. He’s scared this will end with him embarrassing himself even further.
Will he tell Yeonjun to stop to save some face?
Not a chance.
Soobin thinks he might actually start crying if Yeonjun’s lips leave his face anytime soon. When he opens his eyes to look at Yeonjun, there’s still a glint of amusement there, the corners of his lips turned into a little mischievous grin that Soobin almost misses.
Soobin feels himself grow hard in his pants, the small strain pressing against his briefs through his grey sweatpants, which do nothing to hide his embarrassment. He tries to shift slightly under Yeonjun so he won’t feel him, but as Yeonjun’s kisses become more delicate, Soobin’s legs go weak. He can literally feel all strength ghosting him, leaving only a limp body and a warm sensation that screams for more behind.
Hell with it! Soobin can’t have anything, huh, because this body of his will never listen.
Thankfully, Yeonjun doesn’t seem to realise (Soobin hopes) as he stops kissing him and catches his face between his palms, again. “You are an adorable big bear! Soobie woobie doobie, I’ll die from how cute you are~!”
Well, he’s definitely not looking hot in Yeonjun’s eyes right now, which might be a good sign?
“No one ever made me want to squeeze their skin like you do; it’s soft and squishy.” Yeonjun’s fingers trace Soobin’s jaw, and Soobin just watches him, entranced, as he carefully studies his face. “I want to bite it…” His eyes glint with want, and Soobin can’t say anything. He just nods, silently urging Yeonjun to do it already.
Not without a playful smirk, Yeonjun leans forward, lips catching the skin on his jaw before letting his teeth graze over it, biting briefly. Soobin holds back a yelp.
“I feel so sad I can’t squeeze your asscheeks too.” He pouts, lips leaving Soobin’s skin just to beam at him sweetly.
Soobin isn’t sure if he’s annoyed or excited at the prospect, but he knows he can’t resist whatever Yeonjun has in mind. He already feels like Yeonjun is ready to murder him today.
Sweet lord, have mercy, Soobin has been Yeonjun deprived for months.
“I still have a hard time understanding your obsession with my butt.” Soobin finds it within himself to speak as he readjusts a bit under Yeonjun, dragging him slightly closer, hoping maybe his half-hard dick isn’t that noticeable. It can’t be that big anyway, and Yeonjun seems oblivious to it.
It will pass.
Hopefully.
Yeonjun readjusts his body on him too, the position a bit uncomfortable with both squeezed onto the office chair. It’s pretty wide, but they’re both a little restrained, forced to stay close. Soobin tries not to think about it because it wouldn’t help his case.
Yeonjun pinches Soobin’s hip, the closest area he can reach near Soobin’s ass. “Because I love it! It’s so squishy and feels so soft.” He pinches again, harder, and Soobin’s hips instinctively push forward.
He stops and looks at Yeonjun, almost mortified, but Yeonjun lets out an airy laugh and starts pinching him again, and again, and tickling him, and it quickly turns into a mess. Soobin starts laughing too, making sounds he didn’t know he could make, squirming and wriggling under Yeonjun, who barely manages to keep him contained. It goes like this for a while, and Soobin tries to keep Yeonjun in place, but he simply can’t, not when Yeonjun has the upper hand like that.
One second, Yeonjun’s face is light, shining with laughter and ease, and the next, his hips press into Soobin’s, hard, hard enough to make his ass squeeze into the chair, holding him in place. He stops, gaze darker, lips slightly parted. Soobin swallows, holds his breath.
Yeonjun’s voice drops a couple of octaves when he speaks. “Soobin-ah… did you really just get hard because I was pinching you? Or is it because of the little kisses?”
Soobin freezes in the spot. Shit. He just got caught.
“Isn’t this like… a little bit pathetic?” Yeonjun asks in a drawn-out tone, one eyebrow lifted with suspicion. Soobin can’t help himself. He loves it when someone calls him pathetic, especially when that certain someone is Yeonjun. He feels his dick twitch in his pants at the word, and his hips jolt a bit forward, again, on instinct.
Yeonjun’s grin shines with mischief as he realises. “Of course,” he lets out. “You like it when I call you that.”
Soobin feels caught again, red‑handed, and the rush of blood to his cheeks makes his skin burn as his heartbeat quickens. He’s embarrassed, but he’s also excited. Hot. Desperate.
He tries to keep himself composed, but he can feel himself going crazy, his heartbeat so loud and humiliating. No matter how hard he tries to keep his expression collected, Yeonjun will know just how much Soobin lives to be called that.
And he thinks he’s making it—managing to hold it together, enough to save the shreds of his dignity, when it happens.
His wristwatch starts vibrating, a huge red warning message startling them both. They freeze, eyes dropping to the watch.
It reads: “Your heart rate rose above 120 BPM while you seemed to be inactive for 10 minutes.”
Soobin wants to vanish into thin air. Dig a hole, jump in, and die.
This can’t be possible. This cannot-
Yeonjun catches on quickly.
“Loser,” he says again, and Soobin feels himself grow even bigger in his pants, struggling to breathe.
“You are such an idiot,” Yeonjun continues, eyes locked on him, teeth grazing his lower lip. “And so hot.” He rolls his hips, and only then does Soobin realise Yeonjun is just as hard as he is.
He can’t help himself. A whine slips out, and Yeonjun quickly covers his mouth with his palm. “Shut up. We are not alone, Soobin-ah. Control yourself,” he instructs, but his hips roll again, playful trouble flickering in his eyes.
Soobin presses his lips together, and closes his eyes.
After another roll, Yeonjun hisses, “You feel so good, Bin-ah.” He presses his forehead to Soobin’s. “Open your eyes. Look at me.” He says, and Soobin is fast to comply, as if under a spell, eyes open, locking with Yeonjun’s.
“Ah, you love listening to me, don’t you?” Yeonjun whispers, lips back on Soobin’s face, each touch now heavy with intention. He trails down to Soobin’s earlobe, licking and catching it between his lips. Soobin shivers, thinking of nothing but Yeonjun’s lips, swollen from leaving so many kisses on his skin.
Yeonjun’s palms are running a field trip on Soobin’s body, his chest, his arms, exploring up and down, feeling him up, fingers digging into his shirt. Soobin can do nothing but remain limp under Yeonjun’s ministrations.
He tries to contain his whines, but each time he thinks he has managed, Yeonjun’s fingers find a new sensitive spot. Soobin can’t help but jerk his hips against Yeonjun’s, whose teeth bite into his skin with every sudden movement Soobin makes, as some sort of punishment for not staying in place.
He honestly thinks he will reach the maximum level of embarrassment and start crying.
Yeonjun finds Soobin’s nipples and starts circling them with his fingers, massaging, pinching through the thin t-shirt. Soobin lets out a quiet growl, more like a dog cry.
“Hmm?” Yeonjun stops, retracting slightly as he looks at him, serious. “Should I stop? Maybe I should stop. Maybe you’re right. You can’t take all of this. We should–”
“Please no!” Soobin moves like a flash of light, placing his palms on Yeonjun’s hips to hold him in place. “Please don’t.”
“Don’t… what?” Yeonjun frowns at him, a pinch of disbelief in his expression.
“Don’t stop.”
“Stop what…”
“Hyung…” Soobin whines, loud. “Please… keep touching me.”
Yeonjun latches his lips back onto Soobin’s collarbones, teeth grazing the skin, sucking lightly. “You’re such a puppy, begging for attention. Like a dumb little dog.”
Soobin’s cock twitches again in his pants. His hips jerk, lifting both him and Yeonjun off the chair for a brief second.
“Shh.” Yeonjun bites into his skin. “Stop being loud. Can’t you control yourself for a second?” He starts lapping at the abused skin. Soobin tries to ground himself in the pain he feels.
“You’re so hopeless. Turning to mush under my touch, Soobinie. I can really do whatever I want to you… your entire body is useless.” His lips drag across Soobin’s skin. He can’t see, but he imagines the pink, pillowed softness.
It’s obscene, not in the way one would imagine, but in the slow drag of Yeonjun’s lips, in the trail of saliva left behind that marks Soobin. He shivers.
“So… useless, huh…” Yeonjun repeats, sliding his hand between their bodies, palm finding Soobin’s cock over his sweatpants. He leans back and rolls his eyes, biting his own lip. “Oh… you’re so fucking huge.”
Soobin whines as his cock finally receives some attention, feeling the way Yeonjun traces his shape, up and down, then in slow, deliberate circles, the pressure just right to make it feel so, so good. His breaths grow heavier as he struggles to control himself. He should stop looking at Yeonjun like that, as if possessed, but the hungry look in his eyes, his wet lips… everything looks so inviting.
Maybe he’s desperate. Maybe he’s obsessed. Yeonjun should know it by now.
Yeonjun puts on a show and makes sure Soobin knows he wants him. He wants Yeonjun back. He wishes he had the courage to show him, but he knows he won’t today. Today, Soobin surrenders himself to Yeonjun.
And Yeonjun knows that, he gets it, as if he can read Soobin’s mind, and he smirks at him. He starts stroking him, slowly. Soobin bites his lip, keeping back another loud noise.
“Keep quiet,” Yeonjun orders. “Don’t ruin my fun.” His fingers tiptoe to Soobin’s navel, slipping under his shirt, exploring. “Oh god, the abs,” Yeonjun whispers, watching with fascination before sliding his palm into Soobin’s underwear, wrapping his fingers around his hot cock.
“I’ll die,” Soobin confesses. Honest.
“Stop being so silly, Soobinie. You’re embarrassing. Stupid, even,” Yeonjun murmurs, dragging his fingers down the slit until his thumb rests flat against the wet, delicate tip. He circles it slowly, spreading the precome.
Every sound he makes feels scandalous, betraying him, yet he can’t hold them back.
Yeonjun lets him slide with the noise this time, wrapping his fingers back around him and stroking slowly, tentatively, up and down. “All this cock… huge and fat, but so useless. What does it even do, I wonder?” he whispers into Soobin’s ear. “Good-for-nothing. If I wanted it in my ass, I’d have to do all the work myself, huh?”
Soobin freezes, breath catching for a moment.
Would Yeonjun…?
He quickly nods, desperate. “Yes… no, I’d do better, I promise.”
Yeonjun strokes again, eyes locked on his. “I know you’ll try your best for hyung, Soobinnie,” he coos. Soobin gulps, lips dry.
“No need to become desperate,” Yeonjun murmurs, voice dropping lower. “But you’re so huge.” He leans closer. “I think I want to choke on your big, pathetic cock.” His eyes never leave Soobin’s.
Soobin almost comes on the spot. He can’t handle Yeonjun’s teasing anymore. He didn’t even get to finish jerking off this morning—holding it in for so long is already an achievement.
“Hyung,” Soobin manages to whisper. He knows Yeonjun is right. “You know I like it when… you call me things.” He squeezes his eyes shut as Yeonjun’s fingers trace a particular vein on his cock, circling it, giving it attention. “But I want you to feel good too,” he adds.
“Ah, Binnie, you’re so cute.” Yeonjun pecks him on the lips, casually.
“Hyung…” Soobin’s voice is low, ragged. “I’m serious.”
“Huh?” Yeonjun looks at him, confused.
“Use me, hyung,” he says. “Make yourself feel good.”
Yeonjun freezes for a second, hand still on Soobin’s cock, before visibly gulping. “Should I?” he asks, almost breathless, eyes expectant.
Soobin nods quickly, too eager.
“You’ll be the death of me, Soobinie. Are you sure I can do whatever I want?” Yeonjun leans into Soobin’s ear, wet lips brushing against his skin, making his skin crawl in a good way.
“Yeah, my body is all yours, Junnie.” He says, knowing all too well that he might be powerless, but calling Yeonjun by his name like that might, just for a second, make him melt into his embrace.
“Fuck.” Yeonjun’s palm leaves Soobin’s cock, and he strokes himself through his own briefs. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’m so hard.” Soobin sinks his teeth into his lower lip, eyes slipping for a brief second between their bodies, watching the way Yeonjun moves, fingers gripping his cock perfectly as he makes himself feel good. Soobin’s mind feels fogged with need, numb to everything but arousal.
Yeonjun pulls his cock free and hisses at the release, rolling his eyes for a moment, putting on a goddamn show for Soobin. He gives himself a few strokes, then traces a vein, thumb sliding into the slit, smearing the precome around the tip.
Soobin thought that was already enough to feed his fantasies for the next couple of years, but Yeonjun is anything but predictable. He brings his palm up to Soobin’s mouth, the same palm he rubbed himself with.
“Lick it clean. Make it messy,” he instructs, and Soobin is quick to comply, dragging his tongue wide and wet over Yeonjun’s palm, eyes locked with his as he licks, letting a heavy trail of saliva slide down the muscle until it drips down Yeonjun’s forearm, pooling at his elbow.
With his mission accomplished, Yeonjun doesn’t waste the chance to push two fingers past Soobin’s lips. Soobin sucks them in eagerly, soft lips wrapping tight until Yeonjun presses deeper, grazing his tongue. More drool escapes past his lips, streaking his chin as Yeonjun twists his fingers, until Soobin gags around them.
It gets so messy, so slick, like a marionette cut loose, he moves only on desire and the wet chaos spilling over. He doesn’t really care about anything anymore; he just wants to submit to Yeonjun’s wishes, to do whatever he wants of him.
When the amount of saliva is generous enough, Yeonjun pulls his fingers out, spits into his palm too, and grabs both his and Soobin’s cocks at once, coaxing them in the wet, hot mess. His fingers slide playfully over them, eager to touch every inch of skin, every crease, before he leans in and presses his parted lips to Soobin’s swollen ones, tongue pushing in without warning. He moves them together with a steady rhythm, matching the insistent press of his tongue in Soobin’s mouth, tasting, pulling, smothering him in muffled, filthy sounds.
Soobin closes his eyes as Yeonjun does too, lost in the fervent kiss and the delicate touches of Yeonjun’s hand. He wants more, needs more, but he lets Yeonjun set the pace, too scared to ruin everything. He knows that just a little more speed in Yeonjun’s hand would undo him already, and he doesn’t want that. He holds back, tries to anchor himself in the tingling low in his stomach, in the way it spreads through his body in rhythm with the glide of their tongues.
Yeonjun pulls his hand away and loops his arms around Soobin’s neck, cock pressed flush against his. “Holy shit,” he breathes, and Soobin answers with a low groan as Yeonjun starts sliding his hips, grinding down on him with desperate friction, tremors running through his thighs giving him away.
Soobin throws his head back against the headrest and grabs onto his hips to steady him, to guide him and offer support. Yeonjun finds a pace and finds Soobin’s lips again. Soobin, bold for a second, catches his lower lip between his teeth, sucking on it, working the plush softness between his teeth.
The room fills with the slick sound of their cocks sliding against each other. It smells like sex, they both do, and the hums they let out through their noses fill the air like a quiet melody. So obscene, yet so harmonic, in the way their bodies move together, react to each other, each spasmic movement of Soobin’s hips quickly quieted by the pressure in Yeonjun’s. It’s natural, the way their energy flows together, the way it turns vulgar sounds into a subtle moment of fragility.
Soobin might be a virgin, but he has never realised intimate moments could feel so cathartic. And maybe they don’t, because if that were the case, humanity would be different. Maybe it’s just how Yeonjun is to him. Maybe it’s the way his heart keeps beating, fast and loud, with a warmth in his stomach that reminds Soobin that everything he has ever wanted was there, in his arms. And whatever that was went a bit beyond lust and making each other feel good, it felt like the peak high they describe when drugs kick in.
He feels the tension start to build in his lower stomach naturally.
“I think I’ll come,” he announces; he really can’t hold it in much longer.
“No, wait.” Yeonjun suddenly stops moving, voice raspy and low. “I told you I want you in my mouth. I need to taste you. I want to know how silly little Soobie tastes, and I want you to come down my throat.” He rushes the words out.
Soobin doesn’t know what to say, honestly.
He doesn’t know if he could take it.
Yeonjun’s lips had always been his weakness; his tongue had always haunted Soobin’s nights, making him wake up in the middle of the night with a boner after some stupid wet dream. Maybe he hadn’t thought too much of it when he was aware–or, better said, he had tried to avoid thinking of it–because the way his body reacted to the thought of Yeonjun’s tongue on him was dangerous.
Just thinking about it makes Soobin’s whole body shiver. His skin prickles with anticipation, yet an unfamiliar dread coils in his stomach. It’s overwhelming in a way he can’t name.
“I–hyung, I don’t–”
“Soobin. You will fuck my mouth. I don’t care. You need to do it. For me.”
“I don’t know if I can do it, hyung.”
There was one thing to suck Yeonjun off. It was easier when he was in control, not on the receiving end. But the lips… Yeonjun’s lips.
“Yes, you can. I can take it. Even if it’s messy, hyung will take it. I know you’re huge, but it–”
“Jun-ah, I think it’ll make me cry.” Soobin confesses, hopeless, devoid of any shame left in his body. It’s the most honest thing he can muster.
“Wh–”
“It’s so overwhelming. Just thinking about your lips on me, hyung… it does so many things to me. It’s your lips. I’m afraid I won’t be able to do anything.”
Yeonjun leans forward and hums against his lips. “I promise to take you slow. And I promise I won’t laugh if you cry. I’ll guide you.”
“Hyung…”
“You will do great.”
Soobin gives in, and Yeonjun sticks to his word, taking it slow. He peels Soobin’s t-shirt off while his lips decorate his body with little love bites and bruises, gently sucking on his skin, letting Soobin get used to the feeling of his wet, cushioned lips on him. He stops above his nipple, sucking softly, swallowing the shakes of Soobin’s body.
He uses his teeth, too, slowly grazing over the skin, sinking them into particular spots until he reaches Soobin’s abs. He lets his tongue out, flat against the tensed skin, slippery, licking up each curve of Soobin’s barely defined muscles, until his lips stop above his belly button.
His teeth sink into the skin, deeper than the previous bites, and he starts sucking harshly, sending a new, intense sensation straight to Soobin’s cock. There, Yeonjun’s lips leave behind a flushed, purple bruise, a beautiful one, a reminder of how his lips treat Soobin’s body.
Yeonjun guides him off the chair, and Soobin’s legs wobble as he stands, thighs shaking, his painfully hard cock pressed against his abs, eye level with Yeonjun, who kneels for him.
Soobin lets out a shaky breath as he looks down at the image: Yeonjun’s eyes focused on his cock, hooded and hungry, inspecting it prettily.
“I will let you adjust. Don’t worry. You will fuck my mouth so well, Soobin-ah.”
Soobin sinks his teeth into his lower lip as he braces himself.
The second his tip touches the soft warmth of Yeonjun’s lips, it’s devastating. He retracts for a moment, gathering a bit more courage, holding his cock, guiding it as Yeonjun waits patiently, lips slightly parted.
You can do this, Soobin!
He tries again, and this time he manages to push his tip past the lips, watching them stretch prettily around his thickness until it touches Yeonjun’s tongue. His chest tightens, memories of restless nights crashing into him all at once–guilt, happiness, pleasure–rushing through him.
His eyes swell with tears, the overwhelming mix of emotions finally breaking free.
But Yeonjun had promised he would guide him, and he does. He takes just the tip into his mouth, letting it slide along his lips, pressing gently, melting it like a lollipop, gathering saliva under his tongue and spreading it over every sensitive curve. The warmth, the wetness, the slow attention overwhelm Soobin, making his body betray him. His hips jerk forward instinctively, and Yeonjun catches it immediately, adjusting with a smirk, licking and circling skillfully, tongue tracing every vein, every fold, every inch of him. Each stroke sparks a new tremor through his body, a shiver that crawls from his cock to his spine.
Soobin’s legs wobble violently, knees threatening to buckle, mind spinning, caught between wanting more and fearing he’ll lose control entirely.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He might come like this if Yeonjun doesn’t stop.
Yeonjun sinks down on him, lips stretching wider, teasing him deeper and deeper, until Soobin’s cock brushes his throat and he sees stars.
Yeonjun pulls back just a fraction. “Fuck me–slow, fast, however you want. Make yourself come, Bin-ah.” He parts his lips, waiting, eyes locked on Soobin, daring him to take control.
Soobin doesn’t think he can hold it in anymore anyway, so he quickly pushes back into the warmth of Yeonjun’s mouth, clumsily moving his hips back and forth, stuffing more and more of his cock inside, increasing the pace with each thrust.
Yeonjun rolls his eyes, hums around him, and gags a little, starting to stroke his own cock. Soobin tries to match the pace, changing the rhythm, as tears spill from the corners of Yeonjun’s eyes. The slide is perfect, so good, the lips look so pretty around him, eyes locked on Soobin so intense, so intimate.
Yeonjun’s body starts shaking, teeth grazing Soobin’s skin as he spurts all over himself, and that finally pushes Soobin over the edge. The vibration of Yeonjun’s moans reverberates through his insides, and so he lets go.
He spills, the power of his orgasm coursing like liquid through his veins, spreading throughout his entire body. Every fibre of him spasms with the intensity of release, a tingling, overwhelming sensation that makes him moan out loud. Yeonjun swallows everything diligently, finally coming down from his own orgasm.
He takes his time, lapping and licking Soobin’s cock with care, letting each swipe of his tongue glide over the sensitive length, slow enough not to overstimulate but thorough enough to leave nothing untouched. His fingers gently shake the tip, coaxing the last drops of release toward his mouth, and he catches every bit with his tongue, savouring the warmth and taste.
Every motion is teasing, intimate, a careful balance of control and devotion, leaving Soobin shivering under him, the last sparks of pleasure lingering with each flick of Yeonjun’s lips.
Well… this is not how Soobin thought his day would play out.
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The first thing Soobin notices, once the fog in his mind clears, is his desktop–and the endless string of messages from Beomgyu, waiting for him to play another game.
He glances at the clock and realises the last message was sent an hour ago. He’ll have to come up with a good explanation tomorrow, but Yeonjun has already pulled his pants back on and is dragging him to the bed, sleepy and whiny. Soobin decides there’s nothing he can deny Yeonjun. Not now, not ever.
He lets himself be dragged to the bed. That night, Yeonjun holds him tight, and Soobin is the little spoon. He finally sleeps soundly, wrapped in the warmth of his favourite person, and the prospect of tomorrow feels lighter.
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Pathetic word count: 6
Desperate word count: 9
Stupid word count: 11
Winner: Lips word count: 34
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