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Sometimes they fight.
Sometimes Hyukjae takes his jokes a bit too far, Yesung's patience runs short and he turns his gaze away, putting an end to their conversation.
Whenever this happens Hyukjae always leaves.
He hates not being the center of attention, hates when those stupid bright eyes don't look for him, a gleam of complicity in them.
He also hates whenever he sees him talking with other people; w henever he goes out with somebody else, has dinner with somebody else or laughs with somebody else.
The older one, on the contrary, is not of the jaelous kind. They're different like that.
Sometimes, Hyukjae has to shut the little voice in his head that whispers that the singer only chases after him because he looks for everybody's affection.
He can't stand it.
Usually after they fight he ends up at some random cake shop, trying to convince himself that he's definitely not hiding while his head plays on repeat whatever had happened as he tries to figure out what exactly Yesung did wrong this time.
But upon reflection, it's never his fault.
Maybe sometimes he can be a bit abrupt, a bit categorical about this or that. Maybe.
In less that ten minutes he has already finished the piece of cake he has ordered and he sights and groans.
If they're on good terms, days can go by without hearing from him but after a fight he can't get him out of his head: How he looks more tired than sad, the smallest trembling on his lip as he makes a grimace. The way he hardens his gaze just a moment before fixing it on whatever object in the room is the furthest away from Hyukjae.
The way he scratches his lower back or cracks his neck without making any sound.
He knows all of those little gestures as he has seen them way too many times. They feel like a sequence in a silent movie.
Confusion, anger, disappointment, sadness and finally, self-loathing.
A way too wide range of emotions in Yesung's eyes in just a split second.
That's why, while standing in front of his hotel room, the younger one doubts before knocking on the door. There's no noise coming from inside so there's a small chance he might have gone out. Way too small. Maybe he's in the bathroom, or listening to music.
Hyukjae doesn't dare to knock out of fear of rejection, so he just opens the door and steps through the doorstep, determination fueling his movements.
Better to ask for forgiveness than for permission. A "What are you doing here" better than a "don't come in"
He finds him lying in bed with his eyes closed. Scattered around him there are a couple of magazines and crumpled cookie wrappers. He looks calm in the dim light of the room, his disheveled dark hair against the white pillow.
Hyukjae always finds a small pleasure in watching him sleep; this way he can look at him without feeling judged, without the embarrassment of anybody finding out just how much he truly needs him.
Before he even realizes he has moved he finds himself climbing on the bed. He wants to be closer, needs to be able to see his face through the shadows, to feel his slow and deep breathing. It's an unusual sight to see Yesung so relaxed.
"You didn't lock the door" His voice, although soft, takes him by surprise and startles him. He feels stupid for having been caught off-guard.
"And of course you already knew I was here" He's just answering to convince himself he's still in control. Yesung hasn't opened his eyes yet. "It's probably just another one of your weird mutant vampire powers."
"I always wake up if somebody comes into my room" His lips turn slowly into a tired smile and for the first time he opens his eyes to look at him. That small gesture triggers a reaction into Hyukjae's brain. Just for how long has he been stupidly staring at him?. He decides that whatever the answer is, it's definitely been way too much time. "Where were you?"
"Oh. Just... Around." It'd make him feel even more pathetic if he told Yesung that sometimes he can't even walk straight when he's not around so a small shrug is all that Hyukjae is willing to add right now.
And then he feels just how cold Yesung's hand is when it comes to rest at his cheek.
"I'm sorry..." the apology hurts like hell, because both know he's not the one who should be asking for forgiveness.
Or maybe not. Maybe Yesung doesn't know what he's apologizing for, but has already decided that he's the one to blame.
And right know Hyukjae can't truly decide which option hurts the less.
He can remember that time he overheard Ryeowook telling Yesung "You spoil Hyukjae too much"
That day Yesung's only answer was a smile.
So he closes his eyes to be able to focus on the soft and cold touch against his skin while he wishes he had the strength to tell him just how much he really needs him. To be able to take responsibility for his mistakes. To accept that the dreadful choking feeling he gets whenever he sees him talking with other people is fear.
Fear that Yesung will finally realise that he really is not worth that much and leaves him for someone better.
"Talk to me." His deep voice startles him again. The words come out as an order but deep down he knows he's begging and yet again Hyukjae can only offer a nervous smile, his words stuck on the deepest part of his chest.
He needs him more than he has ever need nothing nor anyone and he can't even pinpoint the exact moment this happened.
"Aren't you mad at me?" A stupid question presented with a stupid voice but it's all he can manage right now. Yesung's smile widens a little more.
"Come here."
He lets his hand slide to Hyukjae's nape and draws him closer effortlessly, making his head rest against him.
Hyukjae is still amazed at how easy things can be with Yesung.
"You know I can't get angry with you, right?"
"Well that sucks" Hyukjae raises his head just enough to whisper softly against his collar bone. "Reconciliations can be pretty fun."
It takes Yesung a moment to understand what the younger one is implying and the instant he does he covers his face with his free arm, letting out a soft embarrased laugh.
"Fuck, give me a break, would you?"
And it's that reaction that puts a wide smile on Hyukjae's lips, the first sincere one of the day, and because of that he lowers his face and starts kissing him everywhere: over his collar bones, under his ears... Every spot is sweet and tastes like him.
"You shouldn't have fallen asleep like this." He lets his legs rest on each side of Yesung's waist as he speaks. "You're so cold."
Deep down he loves how quick the body under gim is getting warmer but he decides to keep quiet about it.
He loves how, even if he knows Yesung is trying his hardest to keep still, he hasn't been able to stop his chest to rise with a spasm. He loves the deep and barely imperceptible growl that leaves his mouth, breaking the quietness of the room.
"If we don't give any signs of life in the next hour Leeteuk is going to sent the police after us." He finally speaks, his tone not serious enough for Hyukjae to deem it worth of any attention right now. "You're not even listening to me."
Hyukjae, just for a tiny moment, considers the possibility of stoping nibbling on his collarbone to assure him that he really is paying attention but his mind is already 20 minutes into the future, a wonderful place where both of them are not wearing any clothes and probably there's someone really shocked in the hallway.
A nice place to look forward to, in his most honest opinion.
Taking advantage of his position he straddles him and takes a look at his work:
Yesung, with his clothes all dishelveled and his skin turning slightly pink looks like the best of promises.
He softly caresses his face, his lips, wondering how in the world did he got so lucky, and sights.
"What do you want me to do?" - Hyukjae is not one to make this kind of offers but with Yesung it's different.
"Kiss me."
He obeys without a second thought, the sweet tone on his voice stabbing him in the deepest part of his chest. He kisses him again and again, pressing his body softly against him at first and then hugging him tightly in a matter of seconds.
He hates looking desperate but, right now, he is. He needs his attention, his caresses, his long neck and the way he looks at him when they're alone.
He needs it all even if both know he doesn't deserve it because his goddam pride won't allow him to give Yesung the concessions he needs.
Hyukjae feels like a parasite, draining him, being selfish and childish asking for everything and giving almost nothing in return but he also knows he could never give anything as extraordinary as what he receives.
And then the cold hand softly strokes the skin on the back of his head again, but just for a moment though, because now those fingers are grabbing his hair, taking him by surprise and pushing out all the air in his lungs, a soft and high-pitched moan escaping through his lips.
He really hates being so desperate.
He closes his eyes while he curses; he's not shy, and he definitely knows how to make himself wanted. He knows how to seduce anybody with just so little and he enjoys being the center of attention, all eyes on him.
But Yesung has proven time and time again how he's immune to his theatrical tricks and that makes Hyukjae feel insecure, fragile.
He hates being defenseless and at the mercy of anybody, just how he his at his mercy now.
He hates not getting his way.
And he hates not being the object of desire but the one who yearns. The one who needs. The one who admires while thanking the universe for being so lucky.
The one who needs to feel trapped and imprisoned, spoiled by all that attention he knows he doesn't really deserve.
He whispers Yesung's name in a sigh and even in the dim light of the room he can feel him smile, moving quickly until they have switched positions, being trapped between his body and the bed, taking his hands in his and pinning them down at both sides of his head.
The way his soft hands grip his wrists has been his guilty pleasure for months now. A simple feeling of belonging in which he takes delight every time he's alone.
"You're way too strong..." He congratulates himself for being able to articulate a full sentence with Yesung's waist still between his legs.
"I thought you liked it. I can let you go if you want to..." He doesn't really know if he's being serious or just messing with him but, just in case, he locks his legs even tighter around his waist.
“Got’cha”
He always seems to forget the fact that “Yesung is quite rough and it’s not really advisable to play these kinds of games with him unless you don’t mind ending all bruised up”. Always.
And that’s his big mistake.
The older’s teeth close on the tender skin of his neck in a way that feels almost painful.
Feral.
Pinning him down even though he's now kicking and squirming beneath him.
“You haven’t got anything” The slightly hoarse voice vibrates against his skin making him almost delirious, m aking him wonder if Yesung even knows the effect he creates on him when he gets all intimidating and possessive like that.
Making him go over the contents of his suitcase wondering if there’s anything there to cover up his neck for a couple of days, as he’s unwilling to ask him to stop.
He does not know nor care when his shirt was pushed up to his neck as to give access to a myriad of new bites down his neck, through his chest and down to his belly.
Before this craziness began he had never been quite into biting; now he loves the sharp feeling, the crawling sensation that lingers on the marks for days.
“You’re taking it out on me…” His own voice sounds weird and he opens his eyes to find the singer fighting with his pant’s zipper. “Are you still mad at me?”
“No, but “
The noise of someone knocking at the door makes him stop in his tracks.
“Hello? We’re gonna have lunch now, everybody is already downstairs.” Donghae’s voice freezes him on the spot while Yesung raises up his head, an expression on his face that would have made him laugh if the situation was different. “Guys, really… I know you’re in there, no one saw you on the way down… Please don’t make me go in and check..”
Hae’s voice sounds somewhere in between shy and begging and Hyukjae understands him, 100%. If someone had tasked him with interrupting two of his friends in the middle of, quite posibly, having sex, he’d have fled the country on the first available flight without ever looking back.
“You didn’t lock the door.” Yesung whispers, his finger pointing towards the aforementioned and a smile slowly creeping on his lips. What an asshole.
“ Don’t you dare. ”
The sentence forms on the dancer’s lips but no actual sound comes out of his throat.
“He already knows we’re here.” There is a funny gleam on his eyes that makes Hyukjae want to smack him.
He tries to get up and retort back but suddenly Yesung’s hand is on his mouth, pushing him down harshly, making his head sink on the pillow, a wild desire pooling on his belly again.
He silently swears that if he picks it up from where he left it off without uncovering his mouth he won’t mess with him, not even once, in at least a couple of months. But instead the singer just shrugs.
“Okay, Hae!” He pays no attention to the muffled sound that comes from Hyukjae’s mouth. “Give us 10 minutes.”
He can almost hear the relief in his friend's voice from the other side of the door, probably thanking God and Heavens for not having to burst in and check if they’re really there.
“Don’t you dare…”
“We need to get going.” he wonders if Yesung is twisted enough as to be enjoying all of this. And the answer is yes, of course he is.
“We could barricade the door, they shall not pass. The bathroom will become our stronghold.” His voice was quite serious. In fact, he could point at least 3 pieces of furniture that could be used to make that door impassable, but the singer just laughs.
“Careful, Hyuk… You’re starting to sound desperate…”
“Are you really going to…”
He tries to look for an excuse, a reply, a complaint good enough to stop his partner from leaving the bed, but he can not find one.
“If we’re not quick there won’t be any food left by the time we get there.” His voice sounding happier by the moment, he’s now fixing his hair in front of the mirror. Hyuk doesn’t even know when he left his side..
“This is so unfair and I hate you so so much.” The sentence comes out in a serious tone, but he only manages to make the singer laugh. “What do you want me to do? Beg? I could beg.”
He can see him smile after silently sighing and maybe there’s still hope.
“They’re waiting for us.” Not an apology but a command. A pretty straightforward invitation for him to leave the room. Okay. Great. Fuck this shit.
He’s standing up now, muttering curse words in between his teeth and not really knowing if he’s more angry or aroused.
“Okay, great, let’s eat some meat and some omelette and definitely let’s not think about my feelings at all.” He walks past the singer, ready to be the first one to leave the room. It’s silly and he knows it, but he’s not going to wait for him.
But just when his hand was about to reach the doorknob, something shoves him into the closest wall.
Maybe crashing headfirst into it hurt a little.
Maybe the cold plaster against his cheek feels uncomfortable.
Maybe the singer’s forearm against the back of his neck and the way he holds him by the waistline of his jeans making him unable to move has rendered his legs useless.
Because once again he’s been caught with his defenses lowered down and now, being held there, using the whole of his body to pin him down, has made him forget how to breathe.
And maybe he has never been this aroused in his life.
“If you stop complaining for just one minute I could tell you that I’m not going to lock that door tonight.”
He tries to answer, he really does, but the only thing to finally escape his throat is a shamefully loud moan.
And just like that, Yesung gives him a quick peck on his cheek and gleefully exclaims “Oh my god, I really feel like eating some omelette right now.
A moment later he’s gone, and Hyuk is still glued to the wall, like a complete idiot, wondering how the hell is he going to make it to the elevator if his legs refuse to move.
He swears under his breath again and again, feeling the embarrassment eating him up. To hell with him, and to hell with the fucking omelette.