Hands are fascinating. They’re essentially what separates the human race from their animal counterparts. That, and their superior intelligence.
But hands. Round palms and rosy peach knuckles. Moles and freckles and painted nails.
Yugyeom has always been intrigued with the way Mark and Jackson use their hands.
When Jackson grabs you, you feel it. His grip strength is strong, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin with the lick of a burn. He’ll rub your head with his knuckles, secure the back of your neck, yank on your arm until you listen.
Mark is different in the way he gently pulls on wrists. Sometimes he’ll tug on your ear, or pinch your nose or brush your spine with the back of his hand. However, your biggest mistake will be underestimating his strength, because he’ll pick you up, and bruise you while he does it.
However, the way they touch each other. It’s totally different – it’s an entire language – one that Yugyeom is still utterly fascinated with.
It’s secret. You have to look. Shh – behind the stage, pinkies intertwine. Jackson will hook a finger in Mark’s beltloops and tug. Mark will brush the pads of his fingertips down Jackson’s side. At the dorm it’s open game; arms around waists and fingers in hair. Mark loves to play with Jackson’s earrings when they watch movies. If you’re ever looking for Jackson, just assume he has a hand on Mark’s ass. Don’t question it.
Yugyeom is completely enthralled. Not by one, or the other (Mark or Jackson). But with them as a unit. Together - the way Jackson is entirely gentle; the way Mark is less than so.
He doesn’t understand what it means. Yugyeom has labeled himself as some kind of pervert, because he sometimes sits outside the bathroom, and listens as their breathy exhales and hushed groans reverberate past the towel jammed under the door.
He’s past the sexuality crisis. He’s (mostly) past the horny teenage years, for he turns twenty-one this year.
But Mark and Jackson’s not so secret relationship is something Yugyeom can’t wrap his head around. Or rather, he wraps his head around it too much.
It’s just- it’s – it’s captivating. Jackson burns with an energy that variety shows use like coal. He’s charming and loud and good lord, hilarious – but with Mark…with Mark he’s calm. Calm, sometimes.
Once or twice, Yugyeom has walked past Mark’s bedroom, to see Jackson in Mark’s lap instead, long, skinny fingers brushing back Jackson’s bangs as he spills out the anxieties in his heart.
And in turn, Mark Tuan – the silent hyung of the team – with Jackson he laughs. He laughs and laughs and falls to his knees, wiping tears from his eyes as Jackson owns the spotlight.
It’s beautiful how opposites attract. Yugyeom isn’t jealous, honestly. He just really loves them both, and there’s nothing he can do about it.
Mark and Jackson have always treated him the same way.
Not to say they have a soft spot – rather, they’re kinder than the rest of the group. It fucks him up a little bit, but Yugyeom can deal.
It’s just so damn hard when Mark shows that oddly sweet side. Jinyoung and Mark are playfully squabbling – Yugyeom interjects with a laugh, and Jinyoung pushes him away with the palm of his hand.
Yugyeom sputters around Jinyoung’s fingers, huffing and puffing – but Mark lightly slaps Jinyoung’s shoulder and scolds, “Be nice.”
Jinyoung opens his mouth to argue, but Mark is older and henceforth, draws a half-assed apology out of Jinyoung.
Yugyeom rubs his nose, “It’s okay.”
Mark sits back up on the top of the couch, casual in the way he leans back, and looks like one of those Boyfriend poster kids in the magazines, all relaxed in his hoodie and jean jacket.
“Hey Yugyeom, we’re still going out for potstickers tonight right?”
Yugyeom is slightly touched that Mark remembers the plans they briefly made in a car at three a.m.
“I’m still down.” Yugyeom picks at the fraying hole in his jeans, “But Jackson got home this morning, and I’m pretty sure he wants to spend time with you.”
“If he wakes up,” Jinyoung adds, fucking off into the kitchen.
“He can come with us,” Mark shrugs. “I mean, he’ll complain that the jiaozi isn’t authentic, but what else is new.”
“No thanks,” Yugyeom says, genuinely. “I don’t wanna’ third wheel or anything. You guys should go.”
Mark rolls his eyes, “Just take the free food.”
“Yeah,” Jinyoung quips. “It’s worth the price of watching them be disgustingly cute for an hour.”
Mark flips him off without batting an eyelash, and Jinyoung snickers behind the open door of the fridge.
“You’re coming with us,” Mark says, as he hops back to his feet, and steers towards his bedroom. “Don’t tell Bambam, because he’ll want to come with, and last time he almost maxed out my credit card.”
“Pff, he’s hanging out with Mingyu anyways.”
“Aww, poor Mingyu-ah.”
“Jesus Jinyoung, cut back the fucking attitude today.”
“He’s upset because Youngjae has been crawling in bed with Jaebum instead of him,” Yugyeom says.
He yips when a shoe flies all the way from the living room, and smacks him aside the head. Mark picks up the shoe with a sharp “Aish!” and Jinyoung’s socks slide against the floor as he books it around the corner.
When Jackson wakes up, he’s not the half-dead, rustled and unshaven mess that sludged through the door this morning.
Instead he’s bright and cheery, hanging off Mark’s side and talking nonstop as Mark drives. Endearing. Handsome. Charasmatic.
Yugyeom picks at the scab on his knee, face warming the longer they drive – he tenses every muscle in an attempt to not be awkward. He stares out the window and tries to ignore the blood that rushes past his ears; Mark’s right hand rests casually on Jackson’s thigh, and Yugyeom can’t stop staring at it.
Yugyeom jumps when Jackson suddenly turns around in his seat and grins, “I missed you Yugyeom-ah! I heard you were busy too.”
Yugyeom shifts, “Ah, yah. I was a special guest for a singing competition.”
“I’m upset I couldn’t see it,” Jackson flops back in his seat. “My mom asked about you, by the way.”
“Mhm! You know she loves you~”
“I’m almost jealous,” Mark says. He retracts his hand from Jackson’s thigh to make a left turn.
“Oh hush, you know she asked about you too.”
“Yeah, but your mom loves Yugyeom.”
“My mom loves babies, period.”
Yugyeom folds his arms in a pout, turning to look out the window; and finally Jackson laughs, the air in the car lifting and lightening. He reaches around to squeeze Yugyeom’s knee, giggling, “Oh, don’t be like that.” Yugyeom bites his cheek to hide his smile, and Jackson continues, “Thanks for letting me come with you guys~”
Yugyeom blurts, “He's your boyfriend.”
Jackson snorts, turning back around, “And you’re our Yugyeom.”
Yugyeom tries to turn his choke into a casual cough, but it sounds way too loud against the radio playing softly through the car speakers.
“Besides,” Mark interjects, “I promised I’d take you out when you won Hit the Stage.”
“That’s why we’re going out to eat?” Jackson marvels. “Oh you’re the worst! That was a year ago!”
“We’ve had two comebacks in eight months.”
“You can always make time, Mark.”
“I don’t really care-“ Yugyeom starts.
“I’m doing it now, aren’t I?” Mark throws a hand over the back of the seat and looks back as he parks, and it’s so attractive that Yugyeom feels himself die a little.
However, Yugyeom sees a similar look in Jackson’s eyes. His face is bright and so, so full of sparkly, gushy love, that Yugyeom picks at the wound on his knee again.
When they finally get seated, Jackson slides into his side of the booth instead of Mark’s, and Yugyeom hates the way his heart clenches. They’re his friends, his hyungs, and they have each other. He needs to chill.
Jackson takes one look at the menu and raises his nose, “The dumplings are way too dry here. Not-“
“-authentic at all, we know.” Mark finishes. Jackson kicks him from under the table, and Yugyeom absolutely adores the giggle Mark gives.
Yugyeom continues to scratch at his leg, and this time Jackson notices the little bubbles of blood peeping from the healing gash.
He gasps, “Oh my god, what happened?”
“Fell down the stairs.”
Mark doesn’t look up from the menu. “Tell the truth.”
“Sorry. I was wrestling a bear, and fell down the stairs.”
Jackson loops a finger in the rip of his jeans, up by his thigh, and tugs enough for the hole around his knee to slide upwards, and give a better view of the wound. Yugyeom’s heart lodges in his gut and decides to make a nice, nestled home there.
“Okay…fine. I was wrestling a bear blindfolded when I fell down the stairs.”
Mark looks up from over the menu, and Yugyeom sighs.
“I slipped in the shower.”
“Jesus,” Jackson rips off a piece of the paper napkin supporting his coke, and fights Yugyeom’s hands to press it against the tiny red bubbles. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
Yugyeom whines, shying away from Jackson, “Ugh, it was-it was super embarrassing.”
Honestly. Nothing is worse than laying naked on the tile floor, as a worried Mark nearly kicks the door down.
“You scared the shit out of me,” Mark grits. “I heard him scream from down the hall.”
“What did you cut yourself on?”
“That piece of tile that JB hyung broke off the floor six months ago.”
“We have to fix that,” Jackson says seriously. He presses harder against his knee, “Like now.”
“It’s fine,” Yugyeom pushes and swats at his hands. “It stopped bleeding.”
“Stop picking at it, and it will,” Mark scolds.
Yugyeom shies away into the corner of the booth, and chews on his bottom lip.
“Hey,” Jackson pats his thigh, and it gains Yugyeom’s full attention. “It’s okay. I still fight the urge to pick at my nails when I’m nervous.”
“Gross,” Yugyeom teases; Jackson pinches his cheek in retaliation.
“Hello,” the waitress bows. “Thank you for your patience.”
Jackson immediately lets go, turning around to converse with the waitress. Yugyeom numbly rubs his cheek, and Mark orders for him.
Yugyeom wishes he could let this go. Honestly, he does.
It’d be nice to do a concert without choking over Mark’s side profile. Or melting at the way Jackson gravels his voice when he raps. Yugyeom would love to go a day without absolutely preening at every small compliment, every pat on the shoulder.
He hopes it’ll go away with time. But when it does not, Yugyeom grows more unsettled by the day.
He prefers to stay behind and practice into the late hours. It’s better than facing the reality at home.
In Yugyeom’s twenty years of living, he’s never experienced a heart attack, thank goodness. However, his first is during their second week of comeback season, while waiting for their stage to start. They have a whole hour to do essentially nothing – warm ups and all that – and Yugyeom can’t find Youngjae for the life of him.
That jerk – Yugyeom passed out for two seconds, but Youngjae managed to take an ugly picture of him, and hide somewhere.
“I know you’re here!” Yugyeom calls. He passes a few staff members, and peeps around an empty corner.
There’s laughing behind him; Yugyeom opens two doors, before he hears rustling behind one of them.
He throws a dressing room door open, the words aha!- on the tip of his tongue, but it shrivels up and dies deep in his throat.
Jackson may be between Mark’s thighs, but Mark is the one who devours Jackson whole. He’s sitting up on the vanity, Jackson swaying into him. Mark’s hands look beautiful on either side of Jackson’s cheeks – and Yugyeom can just barely see the way Mark controls the kiss with fever. His eyes are shut, eyelashes fallen against smooth skin.
Jackson neck is shimmery with sweat. His shirt sticks to his back, and he grinds his hips forwards with a groan.
Yugyeom’s brain reboots, and the lurch in his gut makes him openly gasp.
He turns on his heel and runs before Mark can break away from the kiss. Yugyeom skitters around the corner, and ignores Jackson’s call.
Yugyeom’s hands shake and his heart stops – he ducks into a supply closet, and only seconds pass before there’s footsteps rushing by him.
Yugyeom holds his breath and counts to ten, as he tries to slow his heartbeat. His cheeks are red, and his brain relays the memory like a movie.
He’ll never forget. Not the hands braced on Mark’s thighs. Not the slip of Jackson’s tongue. Never.
Everyone fights their own inner demons. Mark and Jackson are no exception.
However, they do have each other. They have Got7, but…also…each other.
Yugyeom has always been able to confide in Bambam. They’re best friends. Even when given the option of separate rooms, they still room together.
So at night, when they’re too tired to sleep, Yugyeom lays on his stomach, and watches as Bambam’s face flickers with the light of his phone.
“My heart hurts,” he says, and rolls onto his back. They have little glow-in-the-dark stars that stick to their ceiling, but they’ve faded over time. “I think I’m getting old.”
“Is it the Mark and Jackson thing?” Bambam asks casually.
Yugyeom sputters, “What?”
“Ah, it is.”
“Am I that obvious?”
“Not really,” Bambam clicks off his phone, and rolls onto his side until he’s facing Yugyeom. He props his head in his hand, “I just know you.”
Yugyeom dramatically groans, and grabs a pillow to yell into.
“I don’t really know what to tell you,” Bambam shrugs. “I’d say talk to them? But I know there’s no fuckin’ way you’d do that.”
“No way in hell,” Yugyeom muffles.
“I’m weird, aren’t I?”
Yugyeom chucks his pillow across the room, and Bambam laughs.
“Ahah- but so what?” He throws the pillow back. “None of us are normal.”
“In all honesty…” Bambam scratches his head, voice straining when he stretches. “They have a soft spot for you.”
Yugyeom perks up, “Hm?”
“Yeah, I mean.” Bambam huffs, “They throw a fucking fit if anyone tries to third wheel on one of their dates, but they always invite you.”
“And they never kick you out of their room or seriously yell at you, even though you always leave your shoes everywhere.” Bambam rolls his eyes, “It’s super annoying.”
Yugyeom chews on his lip, “It’s because I’m the maknae.”
“Maybe,” Bambam shrugs. He rolls over, “But you mean more than nothing.”
The universe hates him, because Yugyeom walks in on Mark and Jackson three times since the dressing room incident.
Every time Yugyeom scrambles away, hot and bothered and even more confused than he was before.
“Sorry!” Yugyeom calls, turning on his heel and stalking away.
But he panics, making a B-line to his room, and crawling under the sheets like a coward. When they're back at practice, everything is as it was, smiling and laughing - but Yugyeom feels the looks Mark gives him.
A week later, Yugyeom comes home late. He finally got his first free evening in weeks, and used it to meet some of the other 97’ liners for dinner.
He closes the door with a soft click, and looks around the quiet dorm. It’s late; the T.V. is on in the living room, so Yugyeom sets his keys on the counter, and calls softly, “I’m home.”
It takes a moment to register that the two bodies on the couch are incredibly close – and it takes even longer to recognize Jackson pulling away from Mark’s neck, to peep up above the couch.
“Oh,” Yugyeom covers his mouth. “I’m sorry-“
“Welcome home!” Jackson waves. Mark shushes him, and Jackson repeats in a quieter voice, “Welcome home~”
“Uh-“ Yugyeom blanks, “-um, let me just, put this in the fridge and I’ll be gone-“
“Come sit,” Mark pats the cushion next to him. “We’re watching Goblin.”
Yugyeom numbly sets his leftovers on the kitchen counter. He stares at Mark’s pink-kissed lips, and thinks are you really?
However, his feet carry him to the couch, and Mark and Jackson swivel to look at him.
“How was dinner?”
“Good.” He sits, “Jungkook and Jaehyun were there.”
Jackson smiles, “How are they doing?”
“Fine. Jaehyun just got back from Chiang Mai.” Yugyeom looks away, to the T.V., to avoid staring at Jackson’s tousled hair. He’s so handsome-
“How cool! Jungkook is well too?”
“Yeah, they’re super busy.” Yugyeom rubs his forehead and stupidly blurts, “How was your evening?”
“We’ve just been chilling,” Mark says casually. “Everyone passed out about an hour ago.”
“Youngjae went to his brother's?”
“Yeah. We’re trying to finish the last three episodes of Goblin before we go to bed.”
Yugyeom looks to the clock. It’s almost midnight.
“Ah,” he nods. “I haven’t seen the last two.”
“Stay,” Mark offers.
Yugyeom looks between them, “Are you sure?” There’s an underlying tone that says ill seriously go if you want –
“Yeah!” Jackson reaches across Mark’s lap to pat his arm, “We haven’t seen much of you lately.”
Yugyeom is thankful that the room is dark. He turns his attention back to the T.V., and tries to ignore Mark’s knee brushing against his own.
As time passes, Yugyeom can feel the sexual tension wind. It’s gradual, but as the characters on screen grow closer, so do Mark and Jackson. Yugyeom is mindful of the arm Jackson has around Mark’s shoulders. Only ten minutes later does Yugyeom notice the quick kiss Mark presses against the side of his jaw.
They fit wonderfully together. Yugyeom hopes they last for a long time.
As the drama drawls on, Yugyeom yawns halfway through. Mark coolly pats his knee; but his hand doesn’t move. Mark is relaxed, but every inch of Yugyeom lights on fire. It’s platonic – Yugyeom knows it’s platonic, but suddenly he’s hyper aware of every slight brush of his thumb.
The tiny circles turn into lazy strokes. His fingers roll right above his knee, before softly dragging his nails up the top of his thigh, and back down.
It feels really good; his body is too tired to tense up – instead the motion relaxing him enough to lean against Mark’s shoulder.
Mark’s cool skin is a shock against his own. Yugyeom is hot, just from the way Mark’s fingers slowly curl around his thigh. He has no idea what’s happening on T.V. anymore – it’s all just blurred lights and muffled noise.
Fingers softly slip into his inner thigh. Rub a solid circle, and line back up to his knee. Nails scratch against denim, and it raises goosebumps.
Yugyeom is jerked into reality by the soft smack of a kiss. His head whips around to Jackson, who has a hand braced against Mark’s jaw, tilting him just enough to slot their lips together.
He understands accidents. He understands PDA in the comfort of their dorm. But Yugyeom can not fucking believe that they’re doing this right in front of his nose.
Mark breathes softly against Jackson’s lips, licking out just enough to- good god Yugyeom can’t handle this. Nope, not today.
He moves to stand up, but Mark’s nails dig into his thigh, so Yugyeom freezes where he sits.
Jackson and Mark pull away slowly – and it’s so fucking romantic, the way they look at each other with their own silent language. Yugyeom holds his breath, heartbeat all over the damn place.
Mark is slow and lazy and cool, just as he always is. However, he’s even more relaxed in the way he leans away from Jackson, and turns to look at Yugyeom.
Yugyeom tenses – Mark kneads his thumb into Yugyeom’s knee, and leans close.
Jackson is watching them. Yugyeom could swallow a bucket of nails he’s so nervous.
Mark lifts his hand from Yugyeom’s leg, and braces it against his cheek, so he can tilt Yugyeom’s head and kiss him.
And that’s it. There’s no build up, no awkward confession, no grand hurrah of fireworks. Simply, Mark cradles the side of his face, and kisses him without hesitation. His lips are soft, and his kisses are softer – a gentle prodding, until Yugyeom wakes the fuck up.
Like, hello? This is Mark. With the beautiful face and the soft hands and the sharp teeth too big for his pretty lips. The hyung that cared for him as a trainee – who cares for him now.
Yugyeom kisses back, and Mark takes that as a cue to keep going. He braces his other hand against Yugyeom’s neck, fingers against his pulse. Yugyeom keeps his hands in his lap out of fear – but Mark hums against his lips, and suddenly he’s twisting his fingers in Mark’s collar.
Jackson exhales from across the couch, and shock hits Yugyeom like cold water.
“Boyfriend!” He gasps, scrambling away from Mark. “Teammate! Oh god-“
Mark covers Yugyeom’s mouth with his hand and hisses, “Shh!”
Yugyeom sucks in hard breaths through his nose, almost in a panic, so Mark pulls away.
“What…what-“ Yugyeom swallows. “Um.”
“Ahh, well…” Jackson scratches at his neck, “We’ve been waiting to see if you’d come to us.”
“I’m tired of waiting,” Mark says simply. “We really like you. Are you in or not?”
“Uh, fuck yeah,” Yugyeom blurts without thinking. He then scrables, “Wait wait- hold on-“
Jackson laughs into the crook of his arm, and Mark gives that pretty, closed mouth smile where his eyes shine dark.
“I’m not really, uh,” Yugyeom spins the back of his earring, “How do I say this? Not super experienced.”
“That’s okay,” Mark readjusts. He holds Yugyeom’s face between his fingers once more and says, “We’ll teach you.”
The room is still when Mark kisses him again. The T.V. is nothing but white noise, Yugyeom’s sole focus on the way Mark’s lips move against his own. It’s an easy rhythm, and Yugyeom picks it up quickly.
There’s something raw and new and exciting about this. About Jackson watching patiently, fingers playing beneath Mark’s shirt, eyes burning holes into the side of Yugyeom’s face.
He’s nervous, yeah, but Mark mumbles copy me against his lips, so Yugyeom does. Mark doesn’t kiss too fast, or too slow – instead it’s a pace Yugyeom can keep up with, and through Mark’s prodding, he learns the proper way to make out.
Heat swirls in his stomach. Kissing was never this exciting before – teeth clicking and too much tongue. However, Mark has every inch of Yugyeom on edge, tripping and grasping just to comprehend the soft breaths that ghost against his own.
Fingers curl behind his ears, and Yugyeom shudders involuntarily. Mark grins wide enough for Yugyeom to feel his sharp teeth roll against his bottom lip, and it’s more of a turn on than it should be.
Mark pulls back after one more kiss- just a fraction. “Sloppy,” he smiles, “but a fast learner.”
Yugyeom sticks out his tongue, but smiles too.
“Can I taste?” Jackson asks. Mark nods, turning back to kiss Jackson so naturally; Jackson immediately maps his mouth with his tongue, and Yugyeom has never felt his stomach drop so fast in his life.
Jackson and Mark kiss dirty. Like two people that are utterly comfortable in each other’s presence.
Jackson pulls back with a happy hum. Mark’s voice is lowered to match the tone of their silent livingroom, but it sounds so nice to Yugyeom’s ears. “Good?”
"Delicious,” Jackson agrees. He pats his thigh, “Alright, c’mere.”
Yugyeom feels a brief shot of panic, but Mark pulls and nudges until Yugyeom is straddling Jackson’s lap and there’s something about Jackson that calms his nerves. Hands brace on his thighs, and it hits him that this is just Jackson. One of his best friends.
“Wahhh,” Jackson whines, hands rubbing up to his hips. “Your legs are so lonnng.”
Yugyeom huffs, “Can you just kiss me already?”
Jackson giggles – and it’s such a contrast to the strong hand that braces behind his head, and pulls him down to his level.
Jackson kisses like he attacks every other challenge in life. With endearing energy and no hesitation.
Yugyeom struggles to keep up, for he whites out completely when Jackson works his lips open, and tongues past his teeth. Yugyeom makes a short noise, but he adjusts by digging his fingers into Jackson’s biceps and squeezing. Yes, fuck yes.
Mark hums, “Slow down baby,” and Jackson does.
Let’s be fucking honest, that word should not be allowed to come out of Mark’s mouth, but it does, and Yugyeom might actually whine a little bit.
Jackson hums against his lips – brings Yugyeom closer, and when Yugyeom shifts in his lap, Jackson groans into his mouth.
It’s sensory overload. Mark sleepily laying on Jackson’s shoulder, pressed against them both, dozing in and out, hand playing with the skin of Yugyeom’s side. He pushes up his shirt, thumbs past his ribs, and worships his stomach.
Yugyeom exhales, pulling away to wipe his spit-slick lips with the back of his hand.
Jackson makes an artificial purring noise, and noses into Yugyeom’s neck. “Ahhhh, our cute, giant maknae.” He squeezes tight around his narrow waist, and Yugyeom’s body flushes.
“Don’t stick your tongue down my throat, and then baby me,” Yugyeom frowns. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“What if I wanna’?” Jackson teases, and kisses the flat plane beneath Yugyeom’s ear. Yugyeom shivers, and loses track of time.
They’re super busy the next two days. It’s a long, anxious 48 hours. Was it a fever dream? A one time thing?
Nothing like, super happened. Nothing irreversible. Mark fell asleep quickly, and Jackson kissed Yugyeom goodnight, before carrying their hyung to bed.
Everything feels as it was before. Schedule consumes all free time, so the itch beneath Yugyeom’s skin remains unscratched. He just wants to know. Was it a joke? A prank? That’s okay if it was. Yugyeom is grateful enough for what he got. Or so he tells himself.
Still, an MC asks the same questions they’ve been asked a hundred thousand times before, and Yugyeom is left thinking about how good Mark kisses. How nice Jackson’s hands feel on his hips.
Jaebum nudges him softly, and Yugyeom jerks up in his seat.
Everyone else is standing up, moving over towards the big open space in the studio, preparing to play a choreo game. Jackson says something that makes the MC’s laugh – what else is new.
Jaebum gives him a look from his left, raising an eyebrow and mouthing, “You good?”
Yugyeom nods, with a short apologetic bow, and Jaebum seems satisfied. Yugyeom shakes off the haze he’s in, and survives the rest of the program.
Two more days pass in a blur. It’s busy.
He’s almost heartbroken – almost upset – but Yugyeom grows hope. At breakfast, Jackson’s hands slip along his neck in passing. Mark sits next to him in the car, and sleeps on his shoulder.
They’re under the careful watch of not only the manager, but also Jaebum, as tiredness grows and tensions slowly rise. Yugyeom learns patience.
It’s not a day off, per say, but more like a half-day.
Yugyeom is scheduled to record with Youngjae and Jackson in the morning. Their comeback was but a month ago, and already they’re expected to have the basic tracks recorded, so that Jackson and Jaebum have time to play around with the sound.
They wake up early. There’s already coffee waiting at JYPE, so Yugyeom can’t be too salty about it.
Youngjae records first, and fucking kills it. Yugyeom is in the booth for maybe, thirty minutes? before Jackson’s voice filters through the headphones.
“That was perfect!”
Yugyeom looks through the window, and he looks so proud, grin wide, finger on the mic button.
“Really? That’s it?”
“Yeah! You’re literally perfect. We’re good for today.”
Yugyeom blossoms under the compliment. Their producer jokingly twirls his finger “Get outta’ here!”
Yugyeom laughs, and hangs up the headphones on the stand. As soon as he’s out of the booth he asks, “What about you, hyung?”
“I recorded last night,” Jackson says, and spins in his chair.
“We’re done?” Youngjae asks, with a mouthful of sandwich that definitely isn’t his.
“I said get out, didn’t I?” The PD grins.
“Hell yeah, free day,” Yugyeom claps Youngjae’s hand in a high five.
"Anyone else coming by?”
“Yeah, JB is gonna’ bring the rest of the boys~” Jackson pats around for his phone, before standing up.
“I’m going to take such a long nap, dude,” Yugyeom sighs, as they walk down the hall.
Jackson’s hand brushes his lower back, and Yugyeom’s heartrate skyrockets.
“I’m with ya’.”
“I’m going to my brothers,” Youngjae stops at the car door. “I’ll see you guys tonight!”
Jackson blows a kiss, “Kay-kay.”
Yugyeom crawls into the back seat, and there’s already a driver waiting to take them home. Jackson strikes up a conversation with the driver, and Yugyeom dozes off listening to his voice.
Yugyeom holds true to his promise. He sleeps like the dead for an hour – but the sun is brightest now, and shines through to his empty bedroom.
The dorm is eerily quiet. The kitchen smells sterile and clean – it was Bambam’s turn to clean yesterday. Yugyeom is impressed he followed through.
Yugyeom sits at the barstool and peels an orange with his thumbnails. He sways back and forth, standing up and adjusting his sweats, before sitting down once more. Pants never fit him right – always too big in the waist.
Yugyeom appreciates the stillness of the dorm, but it’s oddly unsettling. It never feels like home when he’s by himself.
Yugyeom stretches, still stiff from his nap. A shower sounds like, really fucking good -
He dumps the orange peel in the trash, and patters down the hall. He passes each room, until approaching Jackson’s open door.
His room is neater than expected – walls white, a pile of hats on his desk. Jackson lays on his bed with an ipad in his lap; the light from his window makes him look ethereal.
Yugyeom startles in the doorway. He didn’t realize he was staring.
“Yeah,” Yugyeom scratches at his neck. “I passed out.”
“Good. We’ve been busy,” Jackson wiggles up into a proper sitting position, and pats his lap. “Come sit~”
Nervousness settles in his chest. Mark isn’t here to play mediator; Yugyeom swallows hard, and hesitates in the doorway.
“Come on baby,” Jackson prods again, with grabby hands, and it feels like a punch to the gut.
“You guys didn’t say anything for four days,” he frowns. “How am I supposed to know this isn’t a joke?”
“Because it’s not a joke,” Jackson says seriously. “And I really fucking missed you. Both of us.”
Yugyeom looks up when he curses. Jackson is making that upset puppy face, so Yugyeom swallows his nerves, slowly clicks the door shut behind him, and makes his way to the edge of Jackson’s bed.
Jackson’s face brightens; his hands pat his thighs. Yugyeom slowly crawls into his lap, and Jackson wraps him in a bruising hug. Yugyeom lets out a winded noise, but Jackson happily purrs into his shoulder.
“You must’ve been so confused,” Jackson muffles. “I’m sorry. We wanted to talk to you, but we’ve only been at the dorm for three hours at a time.”
Yugyeom brings his hands to the back of Jackson’s shirt, fingers twisting in white cotton.
“Talk to me now.”
“Mark said they’ll be back in an hour,” Jackson hums. “Can I just hold you?”
Yugyeom chokes, “Yeah.”
Jackson pulls him closer, if possible, and happily hugs Yugyeom to his chest. His hands rest around his lower back, warm and…safe.
Yugyeom makes the mistake of breathing in, and realizing how good Jackson smells.
“Are you wearing cologne?”
“No,” Jackson chirps. “But I bought this new soap that smells really good.”
“Yeah,” Yugyeom exhales, closing his eyes and leaning against Jackson. He may be taller, but Jackson is broader. His thighs burn against his own, and Yugyeom hopes Jackson can’t feel how fast his heart is beating.
It’s quiet. Jackson’s fingers play with the hem of his shirt, but don’t push any further.
There’s something raw and tense between them, but Yugyeom can’t tell what it is.
Jackson presses a kiss against his temple, pulling back to let Yugyeom breathe – and oh. Oh.
Yugyeom shivers in his lap. Jackson’s ability to look innocent one second, and smug the other, is somewhat impressive.
Hands come back to Yugyeom’s thighs, and Jackson presses one more kiss, this time lower on his cheek.
“Sap,” Yugyeom manages.
Jackson laughs, and tilts his head to kiss Yugyeom proper.
Yugyeom likes Jackson. He really, really likes Jackson.
As soon as their lips brush, muscle memory kicks in like a reflex. Suddenly he’s bombarded with the memory of a distant T.V. – of Mark against his side, and Jackson’s tongue down his throat.
Yugyeom makes some kind of noise – he’s not quite sure – but it makes Jackson part his lips and kiss harder, so Yugyeom can’t be too embarrassed.
He’s less sloppy and awkward than before, but the initial excitement isn’t any less. Jackson still kisses like a fever, and Yugyeom is still swept to sea. He runs his nails up Jackson’s back, and Jackson’s little hum is incredibly attractive. That, and the way his muscles flex beneath his fingers.
“Wait,” Yugyeom breathes, so Jackson stops. “Is this okay without – without – “
“Mark won’t mind,” Jackson finishes. They’re so close that Yugyeom can feel his lips move as his speaks. “He’s been talking about you a lot.”
“You’re lying. Mark hyung doesn’t talk.”
“Oh, you know he does,” Jackson smiles, voice dropping. “Especially when he’s on his knees.”
Yugyeom stops breathing, and Jackson leans around to whisper by his ear.
“Last night he wouldn’t shut up-“
Yugyeom pushes him away with the palms of his hands, and Jackson giggles, head bumping against the headboard.
“Your ears are all red,” Jackson teases. He brings a hand up, but Yugyeom swats it away.
“Stop trying to embarrass me. It’s not funny.” He brings a hand up to his own ear anyways.
“I’m sorry baby,” Jackson tries pulling him closer again, and Yugyeom melts in his hands. Jackson opens his mouth to say something smart, but Yugyeom never gets to hear it. Instead he kisses Jackson – and the elder groans into his mouth.
Yugyeom is dangerously warm. The longer they kiss, the more his gut flip flops. Jackson’s hands grow less patient, running beneath his shirt, down over his sweatpants and – oh shit, sweatpants, fuck shit-
Jackson curls his tongue against Yugyeom’s – squeezes his ass and draws involuntarily noises form Yugyeom’s throat. He’s just so fucking fine, goddammit, Yugyeom’s gay heart can’t live this way.
Yugyeom shifts away, trying to angle his hips somewhere that Jackson won’t feel – but instead Jackson’s hand curls against the front of his sweatpants, and pulls enough to lightly snap the waistband against his skin. Yugyeom yelps, but it’s too late. It’s already obvious that this is making Yugyeom hard.
“You’re so easy,” Jackson breathes, more like an afterthought. Yugyeom immediately bristles with anger, ready to bark in embarrassment, but Jackson turns to gravel against his throat, “That’s really fucking hot.”
“Jackson,” Yugyeom stresses – but Jackson decides to press his teeth against the curve of Yugyeom’s neck, and arousal shocks between his legs. “Ah, ah-“
Jackson is careful, but still sucks long enough for Yugyeom to squirm in his lap. Ass – he keeps smiling, moving downward, kissing whatever he can reach. Yugyeom’s throat becomes slicked with spit, and it’s hotter than it should be. Jackson hooks a finger in his shirt collar and tugs, just enough to stick his tongue into the divot of Yugyeom’s collarbone – and Yugyeom gasps, hips involuntarily rocking forwards.
“Ah, baby,” his palm slides down to feel Yugyeom up through his sweatpants, and Yugyeom’s breath hitches. Jackson looks distressed, “Fuck. I promised Mark I’d wait...”
Yugyeom numbly nods, attempting to ignore the throbbing between his legs. “Sorry.”
Jackson chews on his bottom lip, and looks Yugyeom up and down – that doesn’t help any, fucking thanks. If anything, Yugyeom’s cock twitches against the fabric, and his nails dig harder into Jackson’s biceps.
But Jackson’s face lights up suddenly. He grins, “I have an idea.”
“You don’t have to get me off,” Yugyeom flushes.
“But I wanna’,” Jackson prods at his hip. “Move- here – like this-“
Yugyeom swallows hard, and shifts until he’s straddling Jackson’s thigh. Jackson’s feet plant against the mattress, legs spread – and Yugyeom’s eyes are naturally drawn to his hips, where his shirt rises up. This is stupid-
“What are you- ngh!” Yugyeom chokes, when Jackson grinds him against his thigh. Oh my god –
Yugyeom slumps into him, eyes blurry, heart thumping. He grinds down of his own accord, and the friction is everything.
“Oh, fuck, oh fuck – “ Yugyeom trembles, a hand reaching out to brace on Jackson’s shoulder. His stomach coils already; Jackson’s eyes are hot fire, burning his skin, watching carefully.
Jackson breathes a groan before they’re kissing again, hot and needy and Yugyeom can’t breathe he’s so fucking turned on. Is this actually happening? For real?
Jackson smells good; he exudes an amount of confidence and tenderness that Yugyeom finds really attractive. It’s out of character, yet not.
“Good lord,” Jackson breathes, driving Yugyeom down against his thigh. “You’re something else.”
Yugyeom can’t fathom a coherent thought.
Jackson licks into his mouth, counts his teeth, sucks on his bottom lip and parts to say, “Feel good?”
Yugyeom can only grind harder, hips taking over, brain clicking on autopilot. He whines a little, riding him harder because it does, it feels so good.
“Shit,” Jackson breathes, pulling back far enough to pat for his phone. “This is too good not to share.”
Yugyeom shakes, “W-what are you- what are you doing?”
“Calling Mark." His voice his scruffy, and Yugyeom looks down to see that he’s hard too. Yugyeom grinds harder, and whines when it’s just not enough.
The dial tone rings twice. Jackson holds the phone away, and Mark’s face appears on screen.
“What do you want?”
Jackson pouts, “Well hello to you too. Is that any way to treat your loving boyfriend?”
“We’re just finishing up,” Mark’s voice comes through – Yugyeom hides his face out of frame. Mark shows the recording studio, where he’s tucked away in the corner of the couch. It looks like Jinyoung is in the booth, both Bambam, and Jaebum playing with the mixer.
“Do you have headphones in?”
“Yeah?” Mark flips the phone camera back to his face, and he shows where he’s wearing earbuds. “Why?”
Jackson drives his thick thigh right up between Yugyeom’s legs, and Yugyeom openly moans, body lulling in his lap.
Mark’s face freezes on screen; he instantly shies away further, tucking his phone close, just in case.
He speaks in a lower voice.
“What the f-“ he pauses, “What was that?”
“Wanna see?” Jackson teases, and tightens fingers around Yugyeom’s hip. He turns his phone – Yugyeom hides his face in his hands.
He must be a mess – hair ruffled, skin sweaty, neck slick from all of Jackson’s kisses. He’s wet and straining in his sweatpants – Jackson pushes up his shirt with the palm of his free hand, and shows the slim planes of his tight stomach. He doesnt have abs like Jackson, but hes moderately lean.
“Fuck,” Mark whispers in English.
“Keep goin’ baby,” Jackson prods. Yugyeom is too close to be prideful; he’s close – just a little further –
“Show me his face.”
“Hyung,” Yugyeom tries, but his voice his breathy and useless. He’s dizzy, he’s almost –
Jackson gently pulls his hands away from his face, cupping his jaw, and tilting his phone to capture them both. Mark’s breathing sounds forcefully regulated.
“Cute huh?” Jackson kisses beneath his eye, right atop his beauty mark. “We’re waiting for you, you know~”
Mark curses again in English, shifting the phone once more. Jackson drives his hips up right as Yugyeom angles down, and once again Yugyeom openly moans into Jackson’s shoulder.
“J-Jackson,” Yugyeom swallows, “I’m – I’m close-“
Jackson hums, hand dropping to feel between his legs, and Yugyeom keens again, arousal punching him in the gut. He can hear Mark’s breathing through the phone, and it’s more of a turn on than it should be.
“I’m not the one you gotta’ ask.” Jackson grins.
“Hyung please,” Yugyeom turns to the phone, trembling, “can I-“ he swallows, “can I-“
Mark’s eyes are entirely black. He’s chewing on his bottom lip, the camera sometimes shaking with his hands. He locks eyes with Yugyeom through the phone, and turns to speak into the mic of his headphones.
“Of course baby.”
Yugyeom whines, balls tight, hips driving hard, no longer riding Jackson’s thigh, but more his hand. Jackson thumbs around the head through his sweatpants, pressing hard, and Yugyeom cries when he comes.
Jackson kisses down the side of his throat, and Yugyeom trembles in his arms. His eyes roll shut, body pulsing with each heavy throb. He makes terrible noises – horribly embarrassing – but he’s too content to care. His entire body tingles, as Jackson palms him through it.
There’s a brief pause. Yugyeom catches his breath, inhaling harshly, putty in Jackson’s arms.
Mark clears his throat, and Yugyeom realizes that he’s no longer in the recording studio, but walking down the hall.
He brings the phone to his nose, glaring through the camera.
“I’m coming back.”
Jackson laughs, squeezing Yugyeom cutely.
The last thing Mark hisses is, “he better be hard again by the time I get back,” before he ends the call.
Yugyeom slumps against Jackson, totally worn out. He’s not sure if he’ll ever be hard again, he came so fucking bad. His sweats are essentially ruined forever.
However, Jackson kisses him happily, humming a plethora of compliments, and Yugyeom eats his words.
When Mark gets home, he nearly kicks down the door to Jackson’s bedroom. He shoves Yugyeom up against the wall, and blows him to fucking kingdom come. Mark has a very hidden and very admirable sex drive that Yugyeom definitely appreciates.
Still, it’s ethereal to watch Jackson later bend Mark at the waist. Mark claws at his back, bites at his lips, and they fit in a way Yugyeom didn’t think was possible.
Jackson’s bed isn’t big enough for them to lay down side by side, so Mark wiggles until his head is tucked beneath Yugyeom’s chin, snuggly in his oversized sweatshirt.
Too lazy to walk to his own room, Yugyeom stole a pair of Jackson’s shorts from his drawer. They dont fit too well, only hitting his mid thigh, but Jackson doesn’t have any complaints, it appears.
Mark can probably hear his heartbeat; it’s incredibly fast, for as the post-orgasm haze washes away, the faster his previous anxiety creeps back. There’s talking outside the door – Youngjae’s laugh cackles through.
What should Yugyeom say? Should he bring it up? What does he bring up?
But Mark makes a gruffly noise, voice still scratchy from before.
His heart stops, “Yeah?”
And that’s it, really.
They’re still feeling it out one month in. Everything is so new and fresh, that even the smallest things are exciting. Hand holding, forehead kisses. When Jackson isn’t home, Yugyeom crawls in bed with Mark. They’ve shared beds before – before all this - but never have they tangled their legs – never has Mark wiggled until he was in the crook of Yugyeom’s arms.
They still run until they’re breathless, sing until they’re dead. Jackson still travels frequently, and Mark is a sick fuck, because he loves to send snapchats to Jackson of their snuggly blanket escapades at three in the morning, just to watch Jackson squirm and wiggle out of envy.
There’s no rulebook, no set path, but Yugyeom takes it day by day, and learns to appreciate the little things.
“It’s so not fair,” Bambam complains, tossing a ping pong ball in the air, and catching it in one hand. “You get two boyfriends and I can’t even get one.”
“I guess you just gotta-“
Bambam throws the ping-pong ball from across the room, nailing Yugyeom straight in the temple. Yugyeom falls off the couch yelling, and Jinyoung cackles from the kitchen.
“Hey,” Mark scolds, without looking up from his phone. “Watch it.”
Bambam sticks out his tongue – Yugyeom sticks out his as well, looking smug when Mark lets him crawl in against his side.
“Let me see,” Mark nudges away Yugyeom’s fingers, and looks at the big round mark on his temple. “Bambam!”
“It’s just a ping pong ball, Jesus.”
“You baby him too much,” Jaebum interjects. “I think you're forgetting how hard he can hit.”
Steam billows out from the hallway, where Jackson is freshly showered, and Youngjae is waiting for his turn. Jackson towels his hair as he wiggles his eyebrows and says, “Oh, I didn’t forget.”
“I can’t do this,” Bambam stands up, but he’s having a hard time not laughing. “I’m out.”
“No-“ Bambam holds up a hand, “Do not-“
Jackson jumps over the back of the couch, sliding into Mark’s other side as he calls, “Five out!”
Mark wraps an arm around Jackson’s shoulders, laughing now. Jinyoung rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t look as upset as Bambam is pretending to be.
Tomorrow they’ll wake up early. But tomorrow’s problems are for tomorrow’s Yugyeom – so when Jackson pats around for his hand, Yugyeom is shameless in taking it.