☽☽☽☽☽☽ JOHNNY ☾☾☾☾☾☾
“Johnny?” Taeyong calls, his voice shy.
Johnny glances over, drawing his eyes away from the road to glance at the passenger seat.
Taeyong’s knees are bouncing up and down incessantly, to the point where Johnny aches to put his hand on his thighs and hold his legs down, just to calm him down a little bit.
“What’s up? You ‘kay?” Johnny asks, frowning.
Taeyong has been acting weird ever since they listened to the rest of the CD. Like, uncharacteristically weird, even for him. Not to mention, Taeyong has also been stealing glances at Johnny when he thinks he isn’t paying attention and then quickly looking away, almost as if he wants to ask something, but doesn’t know how.
“Am I okay? Um, yeah! Sure, yeah...okay? Yeah ... I’m okay!” Taeyong says, his voice cracking, eyes wide.
Okay, so he’s definitely not okay . Now Johnny is worried. He slows to a stop at the light as it turns red and looks back over to see Taeyong looking at him like he’s going to be sick.
“Could you…” Taeyong trails off with a sigh through his nose, looking away as if saying nevermind, his hands loosely hanging in the air .
“Could I do what, Yong? Are you feeling alright?” Johnny asks, worry evident in his tone, thinking that maybe all of the car travel was getting to Taeyong and that’s why he was being so strange.
The light turns green and Johnny tears his gaze away reluctantly.
“Yeah, no, I don’t think I am okay, sorry. I feel like I could be sick,” Taeyong admits, sheepishly, wringing his hands in his lap.
Johnny’s brows furrow at the confession, wondering why Taeyong hadn’t said something sooner, or why he felt the need to apologize for not feeling well.
“Oh, Yong, don’t apologize. It’ll be okay, I promise. I’m gonna pull over and you can get out and get some air, does that sound okay?” Johnny asks, as gently as possible, already scouting the road for somewhere big enough to pull the car off onto the shoulder safely.
Taeyong nods with scared eyes, the sight making Johnny’s protective instincts sky rocket. He reaches over, his hand resting on Taeyong’s knee, rubbing a small circle on the exposed skin from the rips in his jeans, trying desperately to provide some sort of comfort.
He pulls off as quickly as he can, putting the car in park and shutting it off, but staying in the car, letting Taeyong have some semblance of privacy and space to himself, to calm down.
Johnny gets out a few minutes later, grabbing a water bottle out of the back and walking over to where Taeyong is sitting on the guardrail.
He stops in front of Taeyong, handing him the bottle and running a hand lightly through his blonde hair, like his mom used to when he wasn’t feeling well.
Taeyong takes a sip and leans into the touch, closing his eyes with a deep breath.
“Feeling a little better?” Johnny asks softly, running his hand back through Taeyong’s hair, an amused smile pulling at his lips as Taeyong chases his hand with his head like a cat being scratched.
Taeyong’s eyes open as Johnny takes his hand away, reluctantly putting it in his pocket.
“Yeah, sorry… I just kind of got in my head about something, and then I think I started to panic a little, and I just got like worked up and couldn’t breathe, and --”
“Yong,” Johnny laughs, cutting off the rambling, “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”
Taeyong’s cheeks turn pink and he breaks eye contact, “Yeah, thank you.”
“Of course,” Johnny smiles, turning back to the car.
“Wait, John--” Taeyong calls, grabbing his wrist, stopping him.
Johnny hums in question, turning back around to see Taeyong standing in front of him with a soft look on his face and wide eyes.
“Could you grab my polaroid?” Taeyong asks, some color coming back into his face as he smiles. “The sunset is really pretty and I promised Mark that I would take pictures throughout the trip to prove we haven’t killed each other yet.”
At that, Johnny laughs, ducking into the backseat to grab the polaroid from Taeyong’s backpack he had thrown in the back earlier.
He hands the camera to Taeyong and they take a few selfies, laughing at how Johnny has to squat to get in the same frame. Taeyong takes the camera and insists on taking solo shots for the other, trying different poses and laughing between each picture, making a pile.
After a few minutes of taking pictures, Johnny scoops up the pile and takes the camera, taking his own picture of Taeyong as they walk back towards the car. Johnny thinks he never wants to forget how Taeyong looks in this exact moment, his blonde hair falling in his eyes, his cheeks stretched into a big smile, a laugh falling from his heart shaped lips as he climbs back in the car.
Johnny’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and he reluctantly draws his gaze away from the hauntingly beautiful sight that is Taeyong sitting with his feet on the dash in Johnny’s passenger seat, instead throwing the polaroids and camera in his backpack as he unlocks his phone.
He sees a missed call from Hyuck and two unread texts, frowning slightly as soon as he reads them, dread carving its place in his chest.
From: Hyuckie 🐻
6:45 pm: hey! just checking in on you, I know tomorrow is going to be hard :(
6:45 pm: i love you, i’m here for you, call me if you need me, okay?
6:46 pm: also… are you going to tell Taeyong?
Johnny shuts the phone off, tossing it in his backpack and ignoring the dull ache in his chest, pushing the thought from his head, instead asking Taeyong to map the way to their hotel.
After having a full mental breakdown on the side of the road after realizing he has feelings -- disgustingly real, I like you a lot, feelings -- for Johnny, Taeyong has calmed down slightly but still is not doing well.
They were pretty close to their hotel when Taeyong had asked Johnny to pull over, so Taeyong only had to direct him for about twenty minutes until they reached their home for the night.
Johnny pulls into the parking lot of a big hotel building, surprising Taeyong with how nice it looks, at least from the outside. Admittedly, Taeyong doesn’t really know much about Oklahoma city, but he was surprised they had hotels that looked like this.
Taeyong stretches when Johnny puts the car in park, his aching bones lusting over the thought of getting a good night sleep in a comfortable bed in a real hotel, unlike their motel last night where the bed felt like sheet rock.
And then, suddenly Taeyong remembers that Johnny’s stakes for winning the bet was they had to share a bed again, and suddenly the big comfortable bed in the huge hotel in front of him is no longer a dream, but a nightmare.
Sleeping in the same bed as Johnny when Taeyong thought he still hated him was one thing, but sharing a bed, fuck, cuddling with Johnny, now that Taeyong acknowledges he has big I think I want to be more than friends feelings for Johnny, is going to be near impossible.
Taeyong feels the panic start to rise again, and sends Johnny in to check in and get a room, get their room, by himself, desperately trying to prolong the last few moments of alone time he’s going to get before he’s stuck in a room for the night with Johnny and his feelings for the man.
As soon as Johnny is through the front door and out of sight, Taeyong quickly dials the only number he knows off the top of his head, raising the phone to his ear as he hears it ring.
Taeyong sighs in relief when he hears the line pick up, not sure what he was going to do if he didn’t answer.
“Mark. Oh my god, Mark. Something terrible happened.” Taeyong rushes to say, bringing his hand to his mouth to chew nervously on the ends of his nails, his eyes glued to the door for any sign of Johnny coming back to the car.
“What are you talking about, T? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Is Johnny okay?”
“No of course I’m not okay!” Taeyong stage-whispers. He hears Mark begin to interject in a scared voice and corrects himself, “Well, I mean, I’m ‘okay,’ like I’m not physically injured or bleeding out and dying and neither is Johnny, fine. But I’m not like... okay .”
Mark sighs, “I’m afraid you’re not making any sense, Yong.”
“Just say you told me so, already,” Taeyong groans, rubbing his eyes.
“I … told you so?” Mark says, tentatively, “Can I ask what this is about, T? I’m kind of in the middle of something right now.” Taeyong hears the muffled sounds of papers shuffling in the background and wonders if Mark is still at work. He raises his arm to look at his watch before shaking his head with the realization he isn’t even positive he knows what time zone it is.
“I don’t give a shit what you’re in the middle of, Mark. It couldn’t possibly be more important than this. I need you, I’m having a full-blown fucking crisis right now,” Taeyong whines, raising his voice.
“Taeyong,” Mark laughs, “okay, fine, I’ll bite, Mr. Dramatic. What ‘crisis’ are you going through right now?”
Taeyong can practically hear Mark rolling his eyes, which really isn’t fair because this is a crisis.
“I-- I have,” Taeyong swallows, wondering how to phrase it, “I don’t think I can say it out loud, actually, I feel sick.”
“TAEYONG,” Mark scolds, his voice annoyed, “Oh my fucking god, T. If you don’t tell me what’s going on literally right now, I’m hanging up.”
“Fine! You were right, okay? From the other day. You were right, I have a big fucking stupid crush on Johnny! Okay? Are you happy? There, I fucking said it.” Taeyong can hear his heart beating erratically against his chest at the rush of adrenaline from finally admitting that out loud.
It’s real now, spoken into existence. A crush. On Johnny Suh. He can’t even deny it.
Mark has the audacity to laugh. To laugh. At his own brother having a crisis.
“ Taeyong,” Mark starts, still laughing, his words barely coming out, “Okay. Well, first of all, that hardly counts as a crisis.”
Wrong. This definitely feels like a crisis.
Taeyong scowls, “ And second of all?”
“Second of all, I told you so,” Mark mocks, his voice smug.
He sounds like Johnny, Taeyong thinks, then scolds himself for having Johnny constantly on his mind.
“Mark, listen. I don’t even know how this happened. I think it’s probably your fault, you put the idea in my stupid head. I’m supposed to hate the man and yet I can’t stop thinking about him. Like literally cannot stop. He’s so fucking perfect, Mark. He keeps doing these things, these um, these little things. Like today, Mark, oh, Mark, get this. I swear you won’t believe this. He fake fucking proposed to me in front of a whole diner today just to get me free cake. Serenaded me and everything. I just about dropped to my knees then and there. Speaking of getting on my knees, he’s so fucking hot. Literally so sexy I don’t understand how anybody actually looks like that. How did I not notice that before. His fucking body, too. Have you ever seen a body like that?” Taeyong trails off, realizing that he just told his little brother he wanted to get on his knees for Johnny. His literal younger brother who happens to be getting married to Johnny’s own younger brother in a few days.
“Okay, um, I literally never want to hear you talk about how sexy Johnny’s body is. Like ever again, God. He’s my fiance’s brother, Yong. Keep that shit to yourself, please.”
Taeyong sighs, “okay fine, but seriously, I don’t know what to do. What do I do?”
“Fine. I’ll entertain the idea. Do you think you like him like you just want to fuck him or do you think you like him like you want to date him?” Mark asks.
Taeyong makes a sound of protest at Mark saying ‘want to fuck him,’ “Mark you are a child, don’t say things like that.”
“Taeyong. I’m literally getting married next week, what do you mean child?”
“Fine, but you’re always gonna be my baby brother, so you are a child to me,” Taeyong sighs, “I just... I don’t know if I do want more. How am I meant to know? How did you know with Hyuck?”
Mark’s voice softens at the mention of his soon-to-be husband.
“There’s just a moment where it clicks. He’s gonna say or do something and you’ll just know. For us, we weren’t even doing anything special, just making dinner together, and I just looked at him and thought, that boy right there is my future. I knew right then that he was way more than just a college hook-up.”
Taeyong smiles softly, thinking about how perfect Mark and Donghyuck are for each other, craving that kind of true love for himself.
“But how will I know?”
“You’ll just know, it’s hard to explain. You’ll know exactly the moment when it happens, I promise, T,” Mark says sweetly, humming before adding,“if it’s just a hook-up then it’s just a hook-up, but I think you and Johnny could really have something great, you know? So, don’t push him away just because you haven’t had your moment yet. If it’s meant to be, you’ll know.”
Taeyong swallows, closing his eyes as he feels a lump rise in his throat at Mark’s words. Mark, who was so ridiculously in love with Donghyuck, who was in a beautiful, strong relationship. Mark thought that Johnny and him could have something great.
So, maybe Taeyong could wait, and see if their moment happens. Today, tomorrow, in a few days, months. Taeyong could wait, because maybe, just maybe, Johnny was meant to be his .
Taeyong hears the door open and startles, his eyes shooting open as he sends Mark off with a rushed “cool, bye, talk later, love you ,” and hanging up as Johnny pops his head in the car.
“Who was that?” Johnny asks, gesturing towards Taeyong’s phone.
“Oh, just Mark,” Taeyong responds, trying his best to act nonchalant after the emotionally loaded conversation he just had, “he was checking in.”
“Oh, okay,” Johnny says, thankfully not questioning Taeyong’s words and moving on. He holds up a room key and grins. “Our home for the night,” Johnny says, shaking the card so Taeyong’s eyes are drawn towards it.
Taeyong gulps. Their home for the night. Just the two of them. In one bed. He can do this.
“Let’s go check it out, then, shall we?” Taeyong sighs, getting out of the car to collect his things and head in.
The elevator doors close behind Taeyong as he steps into the small space, his eyes going wide with surprise as he watches Johnny lean forward to press the button for the tenth floor.
“Wait, our room’s on the top floor?” Taeyong asks, thinking about how they’d probably have an amazing view of the city from that far up in the building.
Johnny leans back with a grin, his head resting on the cool metal of the elevator’s walls, hands in his pockets, a mischievous glint in the honey of his eyes, “well, normally when someone presses a button, in an elevator, on their way to their room, it normally means that their room is on that floor.”
Taeyong rolls his eyes, muttering an i hate you under his breath as Johnny laughs.
“Yes, our room is on the top floor, Taeyong. I think you’ll quite like the one I chose,” Johnny smiles.
Taeyong bites his lip, turning his eyes back to the top of the door to watch the numbers go up.
Floors 6… 7…
“Trust me when I say it’s going to be a vast improvement from last night’s room,” Johnny adds with a small laugh.
Taeyong smiles, the image of their tiny motel room with no power and barely any furniture from the night before flashing through his mind.
Floors 8… 9… 10.
The elevator dings, heavy metal doors opening to reveal a lavish hallway, floors a dark marble, gold trimmed mirrors lining the wall before him.
Taeyong’s brows furrow, turning back to Johnny.
“Are you sure we have the right floor?” Taeyong asks, taking a tentative step into the halfway, noticing that only three rooms appear to be on the entire floor of the hotel.
Johnny laughs, brushing past him to walk towards the door on their left, “yeah, pretty sure we have the right floor, baby.”
Taeyong scowls at the pet name, scowls at how his traitorous heart skips a beat when Johnny calls him said pet name. Did Johnny even know what he was doing to him?
Taeyong shakes his head lightly, walking to Johnny’s side, his heart beating in anticipation of seeing what lies behind the sleek black door.
Taeyong glances up, his eyes going wide as he reads “Executive Suite” on a placard on top of the room number, his mouth going dry as he thinks about Johnny getting them a whole suite just for the night. At least it didn’t say something like Honeymoon Suite. That would have done him in.
Taeyong sees a flash of bright green when Johnny presses the key card to the lock, a small gasp involuntarily leaving Taeyong’s lips as his eyes roam the roam once the door opens.
Taeyong takes a slow step into their room, his eyes drinking in the breathtaking wall of windows revealing the city below, the king sized bed in the middle of the furthest wall, the living area with a flat screen tv and flowers on the table, the floors of white marble in the bathroom.
He turns, his jaw unhinged, to face Johnny.
“Look, I know you have a lot of money, but this feels like an extravagant spend, even for you, Johnny,” Taeyong says, his suitcase dragging limply behind him.
Johnny opens his mouth to speak, then cuts himself off with a loud chuckle, his body bending towards Taeyong as the laugh ripples through him, “I was gonna go on some rant about money not being a problem and how this isn’t extravagant at all, just to mess with you, but I couldn't even get a word out without laughing.”
Taeyong frowns, his eyes narrowing as he takes in Johnny’s laughing form, waiting for a further explanation.
“One of my friends from college owns this hotel brand. So, whenever I stay at one of them, he always gets me the best room available. That’s who I was on the phone with earlier,” Johnny explains simply, as if Taeyong should have somehow pieced all of that together himself.
“Just a friend? Must’ve been a good friend, ” Taeyong says with a low whistle, waving a hand around the extravagant room.
Johnny laughs, his eyes darkening slightly as he takes a step forward, “If you are asking if we used to fuck , the answer would be no, Taeyong.” Taeyong feels his breath hitch. He supposes that is exactly what he was wondering, Johnny having seen straight through him. “But, we were roommates, so I guess you could say that yes, he was a good friend,” Johnny adds.
Taeyong’s brows furrow slightly, “wait. Are we talking about roommates in film school, or business?” He asks, still slightly confused on that timeline of Johnny’s.
Something like surprise and brief pain flashes through Johnny’s eyes at the mention of college, the look falling off his face as he looks away and moves into the other side of the room to set down his backpack and luggage near the bed. He speaks up, his voice filled with typical mock, “Well, I don’t happen to know any cinematographers that own hotels, do you , Taeyong?”
Taeyong rolls his eyes, “I shouldn't have asked,” moving to place his own things down, and walk around their room for the night, taking in the suite and all of its accommodations.
After setting everything down, Taeyong walks towards the wall of windows and peers out at the busy city below him. It was no New York City, but the image of bright street lights and passing cars bring a smile to his face, the feeling of missing home panging his heart for the first time all week. He raises a hand to softly press against the window, gasping at the feeling of the cool glass against his warm palm. His traitorous mind wanders, however, at the feeling, drifting off to the image of his naked body pressed into the cool glass, Johnny looming over him from behind, his hands pressing bruises into the soft flesh of Taeyong’s hips as he rocks into him from behind.
Taeyong’s breath catches and he takes his hand away from the glass, the cool feeling disappearing along with the image, but leaving his body in goosebumps. He desperately wills the thought away, his mouth running dry at the thought of Johnny fucking him against the glass of their penthouse hotel suite.
Taeyong shakes his head and clears his throat, cursing himself because now that he is looking at Johnny, it’s all he can think about.
Johnny opens his mouth to speak when a loud rumble ripples from his stomach, catching them both off guard. Johnny laughs at the abrupt noise, Taeyong quickly joining him with a giggle, the latter moving to sit on the large grey sofa.
“I was going to say that we should look into getting something to eat, but it seems my stomach beat me to it,” Johnny laughs, rubbing a hand across his abdomen. Taeyong doesn’t miss how his fingers seem to catch between each ripple of muscle on his stomach, but he forces himself to tear his eyes away before he says something stupid.
Taeyong rubs at his eyes before picking up the room service menu laying on the table in front of him.
“Thoughts on room service?” Taeyong asks, holding the menu up in question, hopeful Johnny will agree to stay in. After a day of almost ten hours on the road, the last thing he wants to do is to make Johnny drive them to dinner. Okay, and maybe he doesn’t want to get in a car and go somewhere either, when they have such a nice room to themselves only for a few hours, anyway.
“Sounds like a dream,” Johnny says, walking around the back of the sofa to look over Taeyong’s shoulder at the menu.
Taeyong’s breathing gets faster, shaky as he feels Johnny hover so close to his back. If he leaned back just a few inches, his back would probably press against Johnny’s chest, his head hitting at the base of Johnny’s throat. Taeyong can feel Johnny’s breath on his neck and suppresses a shiver, cursing himself for reacting so basely to Johnny.
“Hmm, what are you thinking of getting, Yong?” Johnny asks, reaching forward to take the menu out of Taeyong’s hands, bringing it closer to read the items in small print.
“I’m thinking pasta,” Taeyong responds, his hand still loosely hovering in the air where he had been holding the menu, his brain working at least three times slower with Johnny so close to him, the smell of his cologne lingering in the air even when he pulls back.
Johnny hums, considering Taeyong’s order, “Yeah, honestly pasta sounds good as fuck right now, I’m so hungry.”
Taeyong smiles a little at Johnny having the same carb cravings as him, taking back the menu with a smirk, picking out which pasta he wants from the dinner section.
“Will you call down?” Taeyong asks, turning to face Johnny.
Johnny raises an amused brow, stealing the menu back with a look that screams challenge, “don’t tell me you’re afraid of calling food places. I thought twenty some year old people should’ve grown out of that by now,” he taunts.
Taeyong’s lips turn down at the jab, crossing his arms defensively, “I’m not scared, John, I just don’t like it,” he explains, swallowing before adding, “am I not allowed preference these days? I can’t dislike things?”
Johnny laughs, crossing the room to pick up the corded phone on their bedside table, bringing it to his ear after dialing the number for room service, “while i’d love to hear more about your preferences later, for now I just need to know what pasta you decided on.”
Taeyong feels heat rising to his cheeks at the suggestive tone Johnny adopts, muttering his answer as he goes to take off his jacket, resting it on top of his suitcase.
Taeyong zones out as Johnny orders their food, but his ears perk up at the end of the call when he hears Johnny add, “and can we also have two bottles of your oldest zinfandel, as well? Amazing, thank you.”
Taeyong feels his mouth drop, turning towards Johnny as he hangs up the phone.
“Two bottles?” Taeyong asks with raised eyebrows. Johnny was a big guy, sure, but a bottle each ? Was he trying to get Taeyong absolutely wasted? The last time he had more than three glasses of wine he woke up in a stranger's bed with zero recollection of the night before.
Johnny takes a few steps forward, stopping only a foot in front of Taeyong, causing him to crane his neck up slightly to meet Johnny’s eyes. Taeyong swallows at the height difference.
“I forgot you were so small,” Johnny says with a smirk, “too much of a lightweight to drink with me?” Johnny asks.
Taeyong feels the tips of his ears turn red under Johnny’s intense stare, and mocking smile,“ no ,” Taeyong whines, “I do drink. And I’m not a lightweight,” he adds with a pout.
“Is that so?” Johnny all but whispers, taking another step closer, his chest now just inches from Taeyong’s eyes.
Taeyong nods, scared to open his mouth, lest something like an unintelligible whine or soft moan come out at Johnny being so close to him. He looks down, noticing that Johnny’s feet are almost touching his, he’s so close.
Johnny hooks a finger under Taeyong’s chin, raising it delicately so Taeyong meets his eyes. Taeyong’s heart flutters at the whisper of an intimate touch, his hands aching to do something, aching to reach out and feel .
“I guess that tonight you’ll just have to prove me wrong then, baby ,” Johnny drawls, his voice a low whisper, his eyes flicking down to Taeyong’s lips before coming back to his eyes, slowly.
Taeyong shivers at his tone, and then again at the raw look of hunger in Johnny’s eyes as he looks at Taeyong’s lips, as Johnny watches as Taeyong’s tongue darts out to wet them before sliding back into his mouth.
Johnny drops his hand from Taeyong’s chin and takes a step back, breaking the tension as Taeyong feels the air rush back into his lungs. He doesn’t know if he’s relieved or disappointed at the lack of Johnny’s touch on his face.
“Food should be here in fifteen, so I think I'm gonna hop in the shower, if that’s okay with you? Unless you wanted to shower first?” Johnny asks, his voice noticeably rough, affected .
“No, no, go ahead,” Taeyong manages, his hands clenching at his sides as he begs himself to pull it together.
Johnny smiles then goes to his bag to collect his things for his shower, disappearing behind the bathroom door a few minutes later.
Taeyong sits on the edge of their bed with a hand on his chest, feeling the racing of his heartbeat below his palm. He takes a minute to just breathe before reaching for his phone.
He opens up messages, clicking onto his last conversation with Mark, rapidly texting him.
7:55 PM: MAYDAY !!!!!!! SOS
7:56 PM: Johnny touched my face & I almost cried
7:56 PM: he’s showering now which I refuse to let myself think about bc uhh sexy…. but I want to DIE because I think he knows how i feel about him. He has to know right??????
Taeyong puts his phone down on the bed beside him, but remembers that he wanted to send Mark pictures of the polaroids they took earlier, so he moves towards the bathroom, pressing a hand against the rich wood, asking through the door where Johnny put the camera and pictures earlier.
Johnny yells back through the door that they were in the front pocket of his backpack, and Taeyong moves to the corner of the bedroom where Johnny had thrown his things earlier.
Taeyong kneels down in front of Johnny’s backpack, tucking his feet under his body and taking a deep breath before unzipping it. For some reason it felt incredibly invasive, incredibly personal to be going through Johnny’s bag when he wasn’t there, and Taeyong felt his stomach turn with anxiety at the thought of being caught going through Johnny’s things, despite Johnny giving him permission to take back the camera and pictures.
He finds the pictures fairly easily, as most rest towards the top of the pocket. He smiles as he takes each one out, tracing fondly over the outline of Johnny’s smile in his favorite one, a picture he took of Johnny sitting on the side of the road, smiling as he looked back at Taeyong. The look made his heart flutter, even through the photograph.
Taeyong takes out the rest of the pictures individually, smiling at every new pose from Johnny he sees, each more ridiculous than the last.
Taeyong gets to the last picture in the stack and expects it to be yet another one he took of Johnny, or one of their selfies, but when he sees it, he feels his breath catch in his throat. It was a polaroid that Johnny had taken of him when he wasn’t looking, a shot of his profile as they walked back to the car. It wasn’t the quality of the photo that made Taeyong’s heart flutter, rather the look on his face.
Is this how Johnny sees him?
The Taeyong in the photo was smiling brightly, his head thrown back in a big laugh, his arms swinging by his sides, handfuls of polaroids in each hand. He looks beautiful, but more importantly he looks happy, so incredibly happy. Taeyong’s lips turn into a frown as he thinks about how perfect that moment had felt. Johnny had somehow captured the exact feeling of the moment, in a way that Taeyong never thought could be photographed. Johnny really did have an artistic eye that Taeyong never expected of him.
Taeyong looks at the picture for a few seconds longer, before tucking it back into Johnny’s backpack, knowing that the picture was probably never meant for Taeyong to see. He goes to zip it back up when he notices a familiar name on a napkin, and pulls it out.
At first, Taeyong’s brows furrow, confused as to why Johnny would have kept a used napkin sitting in his backpack, but when he turns it over, a small gasp leaves his mouth, his throat feeling tight as emotion swells in his chest.
It was the napkin from the cursed diner they had seen Yuta in. Johnny had kept it. He had kept the fucking napkin, that they had written notes to each other on like teenagers, about their waitress.
Taeyong thumbs softly over the writing, laughing to himself as he reads, in Johnny’s terrible handwriting, “ scary waitress is staring at us w/ crazy eyes. If we die, it’s all on u .” Taeyong rolls his eyes fondly, imagining that was probably exactly what his reaction was when he first read it, too. He vaguely remembers what he said in response but laughs when he reads his actual response of: “ I hate you, Johnny Suh. we aren’t gonna die tho … right…she really does have crazy eyes.”
What draws Taeyong’s eye, however, is not his response, but the response that follows. The response that he never read . He hadn’t even noticed that Johnny had written down something, too absorbed in the shallow drama of Yuta and his hopefully now ex-boyfriend, Sicheng entering the restaurant.
Taeyong feels his vision starting to blur with unshed tears as he runs a finger over the worn writing of Johnny’s answer.
“ don’t worry yong. I’ll protect you. always,” Johnny had written. And he did.
Johnny hasn’t stopped protecting him since the trip started. Taeyong’s heart suddenly feels too warm, and is met with the sudden urge to cry, overwhelmed with wanting to wrap Johnny up in a hug and never let go. Because if Johnny was going to protect him, always , then Taeyong was going to protect him right back. Because somehow, despite all odds, despite his better judgement, Johnny was becoming one of the most important people in Taeyong’s life.
And, oh god.
This moment, right here.
This was the feeling Mark was talking about. Taeyong didn’t know how he knew, but he knew. Because he’s always been attracted to Johnny, always known there was something there, but now? Now he craves Johnny in every fibre of his being, a missing part to his whole. Because, maybe, if this feeling was what he thought it was, it meant that Johnny could be the person that would finally love Taeyong enough to make him believe he was worthy of it. Maybe Johnny was meant to be his.
Taeyong twirls some more pasta around his fork aimlessly, his eyes widening in horror as Johnny fills up both of their wine glasses again.
Horror, because it was not his second glass, nor even his third, but his fourth.
If Taeyong wakes up and remembers any part of the night, it’s going to be a modern day miracle.
After his first glass, he was already feeling the effects of the alcohol burning through his system, his fingers and face buzzing, a deep flush on his chest and cheeks from the wine, his mind lighter, his inhibitions lowered.
After his second glass, he was beginning to feel tipsy, the wine no longer a nice drink to accompany his pasta and bread, but a means to an end for getting Taeyong drunk.
It was the third glass, however, when things started to be bad. He was getting way past tipsy, and his mouth started to say things before his brain could approve them.
Like when he accidentally said out loud that Johnny has really nice hands when he reached forward to grab another piece of bread from the table. Johnny had raised his eyebrows and laughed at Taeyong clamping a hand over his mouth after he said it. At least he hadn’t finished his thought, about just how nice his hands would look, wrapped around his neck, pressing him roughly into a mattress.
It really wasn’t Taeyong’s fault he was having especially feral thoughts at a seemingly innocent dinner. It was the wine’s fault. Well, the wine’s fault and Johnny’s.
Johnny had walked out of the bathroom, steam flowing from the open door, wearing nothing but a pair of black sweatpants, his abs on full display. Taeyong’s mouth had waterered as he watched rivulets of water drip from his long black hair down the sides of his neck, and chest, and abs, and he had to forcibly remove his eyes from the sight, before he allowed himself to look any further. Because if Johnny’s upper body naked had made him turn into a horny monster, he didn’t want to even imagine how Johnny fully naked would make him feel.
Johnny had thankfully put on a shirt, but when he sat down, Taeyong noticed how it hung so, so loosely on his shoulders, revealing his silver necklace he was always wearing against his smooth, pale skin, and his collarbones peeking out from the top of the shirt.
So, that , mixed with the effects of the wine, had Taeyong reduced to silent lust, stewing on his half of the large sofa.
Taeyong reaches for his wine glass, pushing his plate of mostly finished pasta away, claiming that if he eats any more he’s going to die, patting his stomach for dramatic effect.
Johnny laughs, “I think I’m done too,” before reaching for Taeyong’s dish to put them both back on the trolley Taeyong had rolled into the room earlier.
At the movement, Johnny groans, a small pained noise escaping his mouth as he raises his arms above his head.
At the noise, Taeyong shifts closer, his knee dipping into the cushion between them as he leans towards Johnny.
“What’s wrong?” Taeyong asks, concerned.
“Oh, sorry, it’s just my back kills . I think it’s from driving today, I was kinda tense with all of the traffic this morning,” Johnny responds, meeting Taeyong’s eyes.
And, before Taeyong can realize what exactly it is that he’s saying, the wine speaks for him, “Oh, do you want a massage? I’m really good at working out knots.”
The offer was truly innocent in theory but the way that Johnny’s eyes darken at the words, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips, make it feel like he just asked him if he could suck his dick.
“Is that so? Taeyongie is good with his hands, Hmm?” Johnny asks slowly, each word dripping with suggestion.
Taeyong swallows hard, taking a deep breath through his nose. You see, this, this situation right here, is why he doesn’t drink.
Curse his stupid wine-loosened tongue, and curse himself for actually caring too much for Johnny’s wellbeing to not give him the fucking massage, because he knows he’s hurting, and wants to help.
“ Great with my hands,” Taeyong replies with a challenge written in his eyes, standing up on wobbly legs and gesturing towards their bed for Johnny to go lie down as he disappears into the bathroom to find body lotion to make the massage better.
“I bet you are , baby,” Johnny calls from the other room with a laugh, making Taeyong smile as he searches for the lotion.
Taeyong finally finds the lotion, heading back into their bedroom to find Johnny already shirtless, laying limply face down on the bed.
Taeyong has to force himself to calm down, refusing to let Johnny’s back muscles alone work him up. And they could, they really could.
Taeyong gets to the edge of the bed and Johnny turns his head to the side, looking up at Taeyong with a soft smile playing on his lips.
“Thank you for doing this,” Johnny says quietly, and it’s sweet and endearing, and it makes butterflies stir in Taeyong’s stomach.
Taeyong smiles back, softly responding, “ It’s the least I can do,” before getting up onto the bed.
He places a tentative knee on either side of Johnny’s hips, extremely careful as to not actually touch any part of his lower body, lest Johnny think that the massage was really code for something else. Something Taeyong isn’t sure he’d come out of alive.
He pours out some of the lotion on his hands before diving right in, working his hands across the vast expanse of Johnny’s back, spreading the lotion out across all of the skin in front of him.
Taeyong works his way up Johnny’s back, loosening some of the tension in his lower back, never dipping too close to the edge of his sweatpants, using all of his hands to knead and prod the pain away.
Taeyong laughs every time Johnny huffs when he reaches a tighter muscle, spending more time working those ones out.
Taeyong can feel the exact moment when the mood changes, when he reaches Johnny’s shoulder, and the biggest knot yet, his fingers rolling around the knot as Johnny moans into the pillow, the sound falling off of his lips and going straight to Taeyong’s core. His hands falter at the sound, his heart picking up as he runs back over the same spot, another small mewl coming from Johnny at the pressure. At the third pass over the spot, Johnny’s shoulders arch back with his soft grunt, his body raising towards the pressure involuntarily, accidentally knocking Taeyong’s legs, making him fall onto Johnny, flush against his lower back.
Taeyong’s dick twitches in his pants at the lewd noises spewing from Johnny’s mouth and the pressure building in his core, and he scrambles off of Johnny’s back as quickly as he can, already halfway to the bathroom before he says anything.
He calls out a “I’m gonna shower, now,” not even daring to look back at Johnny, not wanting to see the amusement at Taeyong’s reaction that he undoubtedly is sporting, opening the door and slamming it shut behind him, leaning against the wood as he slides down to the floor.
He takes a few minutes to just calm his breathing, ignoring the throbbing in his core and need he feels coursing through his body, stepping under the scalding hot water, and washing away the grime of the day, and trying his best to ignore his feelings.
Taeyong steps out of the shower, grabbing a towel off of the rack, sighing in content at the feeling of the soft cotton against his skin.
He dries off, toweling his hair which now smells like Johnny’s shampoo, because of course in his haste to get away from Johnny, he neglected to bring anything into the bathroom.
Once he’s happy with how dry his hair is, he goes to get dressed, only for his heart to drop out of his chest. Because if he forgot to bring in his toiletries…
Taeyong is stuck, staring at his semi-naked reflection in the mirror, wondering how he’s going to get out of this one. Because he is definitely not going to walk out in just a towel. Knowing him, he would accidentally drop it or something. His head is heavy from the alcohol and he doesn’t trust himself anymore.
He rifles through the cabinet, smiling brightly when he finds a big white robe, happy that at least one of his problems could be easily solved.
He wraps himself up in it, tying it as tight as possible, and hangs up the towel to dry.
He takes a deep breath and steps back into the main room.
What he doesn’t expect, however, is Johnny to be standing in the middle of the room, his eyebrows raised and his mouth hanging open, holding a phone.
No, holding Taeyong’s phone.
Oh, fuck. Taeyong is stuck in his spot, his feet glued to the floor in fear and nerves.
“What are you doing?” Taeyong asks, his voice small.
Johnny holds up the phone, clearing his throat before smirking, “your phone keeps dinging, so I uh, went to turn off your ringer, and I, um, accidentally read some incoming texts. Some very interesting texts.”
Taeyong’s heart threatens to beat out of his chest, because who could have been texting him something interesting? The last guy he was seeing has a new boyfriend, so it definitely couldn’t be him. Yuta wouldn’t dare, he knows how much Taeyong hates him now. That leaves who, Taeil? They hadn’t spoken in over a year.
Oh, Oh, no.
It dawns on Taeyong who exactly would text him, if not the last person he texted himself.
Fuck. Taeyong’s eyes widen in horror as he realizes what his last conversation was with Mark, who their last conversation was about. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
This can’t be happening. Taeyong’s skin is on fire with shame, and just when he thinks it can’t get worse, Johnny opens his mouth and starts to read them.
“Yong, stop saying SOS for situations you know how to handle,” Johnny starts, his shit-eating grin only growing.
Taeyong suddenly feels nauseous as he remembers the last thing he said to Mark, and starts to run, rushing towards Johnny because he needs to get the phone out of his hands.
“Give me my fucking phone, Johnny,” Taeyong yells, panic evident in his voice.
Johnny sees him approaching and moves, going to the other side of the sofa as Taeyong chases him.
“Okay, you’re being ridiculous,” Johnny reads, still quoting Mark, “almost cried? Imagine if he actually touches you, what are you gonna do, throw up?”
Taeyong’s cheeks feel impossibly red, and he knows he’s blushing deeper than he probably ever has before, and now he’s no longer just embarrassed, but furious.
Taeyong yells again, “Stop it right now, give me my phone you asshole,” running to the other side of the sofa as Johnny runs to the bedroom, Taeyong hot on his trails.
Johnny doesn’t stop, however, and the texts keep getting worse, “Johnny’s smart, Yong, I think if you are being obvious, then yeah he probably knows.”
Johnny pauses in front of the bed, and Taeyong sees his window of opportunity, tackling him and crawling over him, desperately trying to claw his phone out of Johnny’s hands as they scramble across the bed.
And then, everything in the world seems to go perfectly, painfully still, because Taeyong realizes where he is and what he’s doing. He’s sitting on Johnny’s lap, straddling him in only a bathrobe, the front slit open dangerously high, revealing his bare legs spread wide on Johnny’s thighs, his pale skin looking like moonlight against the black cotton of Johnny’s sweatpants.
“Give. Me. My. Phone.” Taeyong grits out in a whisper, breathing heavily as he reaches towards Johnny’s hand raised above them, just out of reach.
Johnny smirks, his eyes impossibly dark, and whispers in a low voice, “There’s only one more text, and it’s the best one.”
Taeyong’s stomach drops, scared as to what that’s supposed to mean, cursing himself for leaving his phone open where Johnny could read his texts.
“I don’t think I want to know what it says,” Taeyong says, embarrassed beyond belief.
Johnny hands him his phone, pointless now that he’s read everything, leaning forward to whisper in Taeyong’s ear, “If you think Johnny is that hot, maybe you should just fuck him and figure out if you feel anything after that.”
Taeyong stops breathing completely. He feels like he’s on fire as Johnny leans back, his head hitting the headboard, his eyes burning into Taeyong’s, hunger written across his entire expression.
Taeyong shifts back, flinching away from the stare involuntarily, only to hit something hard when he moves back, his bathrobe having rode up from sitting, realizing that Johnny’s semi-hard dick is pressing into his bare ass.
Taeyong suppresses a whimper at the hard length and whispers, his voice already wrecked, “fuck, Johnny. Are you hard? ”
Taeyong’s thighs are already trembling with need, but the look in Johnny’s eyes makes a small whine escape his lips, and when Johnny speaks , Taeyong turns into putty on his lap.
“What am I supposed to feel, when your bare ass keeps grinding down on my dick and I’ve just read texts about how you think I’m hot and want to fuck me?” Johnny asks, his voice low, his eyes boring into Taeyong’s with unwritten need.
Taeyong feels his heart start to pound, his breathing coming out in a shallow gasp as he locks eyes with johnny, dropping the phone carelessly off of the side of the bed, biting his lips slightly as he shifts tentatively again, rocking back against Johnny, a soft moan spilling from his lips at the feeling.
Johnny’s hands slide up his thighs, under his robe with a bruising grip, a dark warning in his eyes.
Taeyong rocks back again, gasping when he feels Johnny’s hands slowly start to creep up his legs, digging into the skin, caressing his inner thighs.Taeyong feels himself start to get hard under the touch, all the while Johnny won’t take his eyes off of him, his gaze intoxicating.
Taeyong thinks he could cum from just the look in Johnny’s eyes alone, not to mention with him pressing his hands high on his thighs, working him up into a writhing mess with his touch, not even having to kiss him.
Taeyong’s hands come up to thread through Johnny’s still damp hair, running his hands through the ends at the back, leaning forward slightly with a gasp when Johnny’s knuckles brush dangerously close to his dick.
He whimpers, biting his lip as Johnny smiles and moves a hand up around the outside of his hip, to knead the soft skin of his ass, tugging Taeyong closer to him to pull on the shell of his ear with his teeth, pressing a soft kiss under it, making Taeyong’s eyes flutter shut.
Johnny’s voice drops to a low whisper, “Such a pretty kitten,” Johnny says, moaning softly into his ear as Taeyong grinds down again, “ I want to ruin you,” he adds, making Taeyong’s breath hitch.
Taeyong whimpers at the sound, at the name, pulling back to look into Johnny’s eyes and only seeing pure lust, grinding down again, harder, leaving them both panting with need.
The word kitten repeating in his mind, his entire body feeling like he’s on fire.
He swallows, his tongue slipping out of his mouth licking his lips, watching as Johnny’s eyes hungrily follow the movement.
Taeyong leans forward, moving his hands from the back of Johnny’ s hair to his bare shoulders, whispering back, “don’t make me beg, ” onto Johnny’s lips.
That’s all the encouragement Johnny needs, leaning forward and finally pressing his lips to Taeyong’s, licking into his mouth as Taeyong moans around his tongue, his eyes fluttering shut as he gives in to the pleasure.
Johnny hooks his hands around Taeyong’s body, throwing him onto his back, knocking the breath out of him as he changes their position.
He presses his body weight forward, pressing a hand on Taeyong’s stomach, pushing him deeper into the mattress, grinding up into his body as he pulls Taeyong back into a deep, hungry kiss.
The pressure is delicious, but Taeyong craves more.
He grinds up into Johnny, whining at the layers of clothes between them. Johnny’s hands slink up the sides of his waist, gripping his hips tightly as he grinds down into him, a moan falling from his lips.
Taeyong breaks the kiss, leaning back and breathing heavily, “more, Johnny. Touch me please,” he whispers onto his lips, his dick painfully hard against his stomach. Johnny’s hands make another slow sweep of his hands down Taeyong’s thighs, pushing them further apart as he chases the friction.
Johnny then sighs, leaning back, resting on his forearms, stroking a finger along Taeyong’s face, tracing the outline of his lips before coming to rest his palm on his cheek, his thumb stroking high on his cheekbone.
Taeyong keens at the attention, “I need more, Johnny,” he whispers, his nails scratching on the bare skin of his back.
Johnny gives him one last look before he leans back down, pressing a hot kiss on his jawline, then his throat, making a line of kisses all the way down Taeyong's chest, stopping when he meets the edge of his robe.
Johnny looks up from under his lashes as he slowly, way too fucking slowly , unravels the string at Taeyong’s waist, pushing open the bathrobe, leaving Taeyong’s body fully bare below him.
Johnny’s eyes roam each inch of skin he reveals, the possessive look in Johnny’s eyes making Taeyong squirm. Johnny’s eyes linger on Taeyong’s dick, flushed and red, leaking precum onto his stomach.
Taeyong has never in his life been more turned on, and never in his life wanted to be touched more.
“Fuck, you’re unreal,” Johnny chokes out, his voice incredibly hoarse, somewhat between a curse and a prayer. He drags his hands down Taeyong’s sides, outlining his naked body as Taeyong’s hips buck up, searching for friction.
The look in Johnny’s eyes as he watches Taeyong writhe under him, along with his hands touching everything but exactly where he wants, has Taeyong reduced to a whimpering mess, tears coming up in his eyes at the lack of contact.
Taeyong’s hands scratch back down Johnny’s back, as Johnny captures his lips in another kiss, his tongue licking into his mouth, licking the backs of Taeyong’s teeth. Taeyong’s hands catch on the band of Johnny’s sweatpants, and he runs a hand under them, pushing them until Johnny gets the idea and kicks off his sweatpants and underwear together, finally naked in front of Taeyong.
And, oh, does Taeyong’s mouth go dry as he sees how big Johnny is, imaging the stretch already, letting loose a noise close to a whimper as he takes in the look of Johnny’s cock, flushed and curving up onto his stomach.
Taeyong wraps his legs around Johnny’s hips, savoring the feeling of skin on skin, moaning when their dicks meet, finally getting the friction he wants.
“Johnny, I want you so fucking bad. I need you,” Taeyong whispers onto his skin between kisses, his fingers clawing at Johnny’s back, likely leaving marks that will be there when they wake up tomorrow.
Johnny takes Taeyong’s hand and presses his dick into it, groaning into Taeyong’s ear, “I want you too, baby, so fucking bad it hurts.”
Johnny pauses and Taeyong can practically hear the ‘but’ coming, a groan of protest already leaving his lips as Johnny rocks into his hand again.
“But I’m not going to fuck you when you’re drunk off your mind, baby. I’m not letting the first time I fuck you be when you won’t even remember it the next day,” Johnny says between pants.
Taeyong feels Johnny shift again, taking his wrists and pressing them above his head, pinning him down on the mattress.
Johnny leans forward, leaving open mouthed kisses on Taeyong’s neck, his teeth pulling at the skin, leaving bruises.
“And when I do fuck you,” Johnny groans, grinding their dicks together harder than before, pulling a scream of pleasure from Taeyong’s lips, pulling back and grabbing his chin roughly, forcing him to look into his eyes, “when I fuck you, Taeyong, I’m going to make you feel so good you never want to have anyone else inside of you. I'm going to make you mine."
“Johnny,” Taeyong whispers, unshed tears filling his eyes at how badly he needs him, “p-please.”
“Okay, baby. I’ll make you feel good,” Johnny whispers back, kissing down his body before settling between his thighs, pushing them apart slowly to make room for his body.
“What do you want, Taeyong? You have to tell me what you want.”
Taeyong whines, raising his hips up angrily as he looks for friction, a tear slipping down his cheek, “You promised, Johnny. Please. You said you would touch me.”
“With words, kitten, tell me what you want,” Johnny whispers, his lips just inches from where Taeyong wants them, his hands resting so high on his thighs he starts to shake with need.
“I need you,” Taeyong whispers, another tear making its pitiful way down his cheek as he begs to be touched.
Johnny pulls back, raising up on his forearms to look at Taeyong with a look that screams use your words.
Taeyong blushes even more furiously, closing his eyes as his head goes back onto the pillow, throwing his shame and ego out of the window, “I want your mouth on my dick, god I want you so bad. Your mouth, your hands, anything. Just fucking touch me, please.”
Taeyong can feel Johnny smile against the skin of his thighs, before wrapping a calloused hand around Taeyong’s length, making him thrust into it, slowly taking the head of Taeyong’s cock into his mouth, the velvety heat sheathing his dick as he lets out a breathy moan.
Johnny’s pace is cruel, his hands and mouth working Taeyong’s dick, knowing he’s not going to last long after being strung along for so long, untouched.
"Fuck, Johnny," Taeyong whines, his hands coming up to pull on the ends of Johnny's hair.
Taeyong rides out the pleasure for a few more minutes, chanting Johnny's name as he takes his dick all the way down his throat as he bottoms out, the new feeling causing his whole body to tremble as he nears his climax.
Then suddenly, with no warning, Taeyong feels his entire body combust in flame, the strongest orgasm he’s ever had ripping out of his body as he screams Johnny’s name, loud enough for the whole hotel to hear him.
But he doesn’t care, doesn’t care, doesn’t care.
Because it's Johnny that has his mouth on his dick, and Johnny who's making him feel like he is being worshipped.
Johnny strokes him through his orgasm, popping off of his dick with an obscene noise, swallowing all of Taeyong’s cum.
Taeyong feels his eyes fluttering shut, his bones turning to jelly as he sinks back into the mattress, feeling more sated than he’s ever been.
Johnny reaches up, wiping the tears off of Taeyong’s cheeks, whispering, "you did so well, baby, you were perfect. My beautiful kitten."
Taeyong smiles, blushing at the praise, pulling at the back of Johnny's neck until he leans forward, capturing his lips in a soft kiss, slower, lazy.
Johnny drops a sweet kiss on Taeyong's forehead before sitting up, taking his weight off of Taeyong as he gets off of the bed.
“Wait,” Taeyong says, gesturing awkwardly at Johnny’s still angrily hard dick resting at his stomach, “Let me -- I wanna. Let me make you feel good too,” he says up to Johnny, who leans forward to press a soft kiss on his lips and push his shoulders back down, pulling the covers up around Taeyong.
“I know you do, baby, but you need to sleep. I can take care of it, I promise,” He says with a laugh, pressing one more kiss to Taeyong’s lips as he feels his body give in to sleep.
“Goodnight, my love,” Johnny whispers, stroking a finger along his cheek, but Taeyong is already asleep.