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Jake half thinks that the feather-light touches he feels along the back of his neck is from a wayward mosquito that has gotten into the room. His eyes are heavy and his limbs feel detached from his body – he’s always been the fastest to fall asleep, though he’s also the one that gets up the most frequently throughout the night – but he manages to get some coordination to smack his hand over his shoulder and swat the offending bug.
Except the bug grunts. The bug is big and solid and has the slightly scratchy feel of errant stubble. The bug squeezes his long arms around Jake’s middle hard in retaliation.
“What’d you smack me for?” Riki grumbles by Jake’s ear, breath hot and wet right where Jake is the most sensitive. Jake’s shoulders jump up, but Riki just nuzzles even closer, carving a space for himself so that he’s breathing on Jake’s neck and driving him insane.
“Thought you were a mosquito,” Jake says, his words thick with sleep. Riki hums and it feels like the sound comes out of Jake’s own throat.
“Wow,” Riki says, squeezing Jake again, but more gently this time. “So that’s how you think of me.”
His lips find Jake’s neck again – because that’s what he was feeling before, Riki kissing along his nape – and now that he’s awake Jake is hyper aware of how loud the sound is. He nudges Riki, shoving his hips back because Riki is pinning him into place, not realizing until after he does it that doing so is suggesting something he is not actually ready to indulge. Riki pauses, and then his teeth latch onto the sensitive skin of Jake’s neck right where his pulse is pounding and his fingers grip Jake’s hips as his own jump up to grind against his ass.
“What are you doing?” Jake whines. His body flushes with heat at the same time that goosebumps raise over his arms and down his back. He crosses his legs in an attempt to quell the stirring he feels in his gut. “Sunghoon is right there.”
“His fault for getting in the bed with us.”
“He drew it.”
“Bad luck.”
Riki kisses the side of his neck, gently this time, which is almost worse than him trying to use Jake as his own personal chew toy. Jake’s insides turn molten and sloshy, and the more he squirms the tighter Riki holds him.
“We’re being filmed,” he hisses. Riki snorts, mouth still pressed to the side of Jake’s neck, spit splattering up by his ear. Riki lets him go, and for half a second Jake thinks that he’s won, that he’s talked some sense into him, but Riki just grabs the blanket and drags it over both of their heads as he rolls on top of Jake, caging him with his arms.
Even in the dark Jake can see the self-satisfied smirk on Riki’s face.
“Now no one can see us.”
Jake rolls his eyes. “Now it’s even more obvious what we’re doing.”
Riki’s smile widens; Jake can see the shine of his teeth. “Yeah? What’re we doing, hyung?”
Jake hates the bubble of desire that starts in his gut and then burns its way up his throat, filling him with the embarrassing urge to cover his face and giggle. This thing with Riki is new; he doesn’t even know if he wants to call it a thing because they’ve never actually talked about it. A few weeks ago, maybe a month, maybe two, Jake started to realize that Riki’s constant attention and his push for Jake’s time, his touch, his approval, went beyond simple younger brother tendencies. When he’d broached the subject to Heeseung he had laughed right in Jake’s face and said, bluntly: kid’s had a crush on you basically since debut, dude. And once Jake had seen it, once he had known , he couldn’t unsee it. Which meant that all of Riki’s gestures, his flirting, his need to cuddle into Jake’s side, breathe down his neck, suddenly started to set Jake’s skin burning in a way that it hadn’t before.
They’ve kissed once. Maybe twice. Each time has been awkward and fast, something unplanned and not quite thought out, a frenzied smacking of faces that resulted in bruised lips and even worse, bruised egos. Pickup lines and innuendo rolled off of Riki’s tongue like water, but when it came to actual follow-through they both seemed to be lacking. It’s partially because Jake has never been good at diving into situations where his heart is on the line – and he has to admit that having Riki’s heart in his hands is terrifying enough, nevermind the prospect of offering his to Riki – partially because of their jobs, and partially because in Jake honestly has no idea what he’s doing. He doesn’t want to be the clueless hyung; he wants to be able to take the lead, but he’s starting to come to terms with the fact that it may be the way things go.
Jake reaches up and grips the lapels of Riki’s sleep shirt in his fists. He wonders how he looks to Riki, laid out on the bed, hair fanned around him, mostly in shadow. Above him Riki looks much older than he is, predatory, teeth shiny and eyes bright.
“You know what we’re doing,” Jake whispers.
“Do I?”
Riki’s voice is gruff, rubble in the base of his throat. Jake’s skin is too hot; the air under the blanket is thick and sticky. There is sweat beading along his hairline and under his neck. Out of the corner of his eye he can see the curve of Sunghoon’s shoulder, his back to them, rising and falling with the telltale sign of sleep.
“Don’t tease,” Jake says, tugging at Riki’s shirt. He’s supposed to be the hyung, the leader, but when it comes to Riki and his affections Jake is helpless but to follow. Riki tilts his head, considering. Jake lets go of the fabric and lets his hands fall to the sides of his head. He’s pretty sure he knows what happens next; despite the illusion of a vacation, they are at work, and the logical move would be to let the teasing end here and to roll over and pretend nothing happened.
Except Riki doesn’t roll away. He leans forward, slow, hesitant, and nudges his nose against Jake’s. He traces up one side and then the other; his breath is hot on Jake’s lips, harsh and panting. Jake tilts his chin up before he realizes what he’s doing, chasing, wanting, but Riki moves to his cheekbone and then to his jaw by his ear. It seems to be his favorite spot; he noses behind Jake’s ear and finds the spot that makes Jake writhe, makes his shoulder shoot up and his hips jump as shivers rack down his spine and his insides turn hot and syrupy.
“Is this what you want, hyung?” Riki whispers. Perhaps he doesn’t voice it at all, perhaps it’s just his lips moving against Jake’s skin, ghosting a question that Jake simply can’t answer. He bares his neck instead, the only response he can offer, the only way that he can admit that yes, he does want this, whatever this is.
There is a puff of breath, a chuckle, and then Riki is moving again. Lips down Jake’s neck; the slide isn’t smooth but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is Riki’s mouth, his teeth, his breath, nipping at Jake’s skin and then traveling back to his jaw, pecking at his cheek, the corner of his mouth, the tip of his nose. Jake tilts his chin again – a request – and there is a moment of shared breath suspended in time before Riki’s mouth finally meets his.
It’s not Jake’s first kiss, but it feels like a first kiss. It starts off slow and soft, a barely there press of lips separating and then meeting over and over again, heads tilting, lips pursing in an attempt to find what angle is the best, what is the quietest. And then Riki’s tongue darts out and Jake’s mouth gasps open and it’s wet and hot and sloppy. Jake has made out with a few members of Enhypen and despite his best efforts he’s a drooler. Riki doesn’t seem to mind the mess, though. He licks down Jake’s chin and neck and then thrusts his tongue back into Jake’s mouth, swapping spit like it’s a game that he’s determined to perfect. He lets his own mouth go lax, letting spit accumulate before he sucks on Jake’s tongue, the mess between the two of them getting between lips and cheeks and chins.
Jake doesn’t think about how they’re being too loud. He doesn’t think about what it must look like from the camera that’s trained on them in the far corner of the room. He’s too busy with his hands tangled in Riki’s hair and one leg tossed over Riki’s hips, suddenly desperate to have him closer, to feel the weight of him on top. He rolls his hips up and doesn’t even realize that he’s hard until they connect, the grind a jolt of pleasure that rips a startled whine from his throat. Riki groans into his mouth and grips his waist with one hand, the other gripping the pillow above Jake’s head so that he can hold himself up.
“Ugh,” Sunghoon’s voice grumbles from beside them, and Jake freezes with Riki’s tongue still in his mouth. “I’m literally right here.”
Riki licks along Jake’s tongue and then traces his lips before sealing it all with a soft peck. His mouth is shiny with spit and his eyes are glowing with desire. His grin is positively Cheshire-cat like.
“That’s what you get for drawing the short straw,” he says, then grunts when a pillow whacks right into his face.
“Fuck you guys,” Sunghoon groans, the pillow still in his hand and brandished like a weapon as he turns onto his side. “I dreamt I was getting dicked and it was literally my two bandmates boning in front of me.”
“Did we give you a wet dream?” Jake says, sitting up slightly and unashamedly gleeful at the prospect. Any opportunity to throw his own embarrassment onto Sunghoon is a great one.
“I can’t believe I popped one because you guys were hooking up,” Sunghoon grumbles, sitting up so that he can hit them more thoroughly with the pillow while he complains. “It’s honestly so gross I should report you. I deserve a settlement. You should buy my meals for a month.”
Riki collapses on top of Jake while Sunghoon wails on them, laughing into the crook of Jake’s neck while Jake shouts and does a bad job of protecting his face from the feather pillow. His own arousal is dying even with Riki on top of him, and when the pillow bursts and feathers explode everywhere the room erupts into chaos that brings the other members rushing in as well, his kiss with Riki is nearly forgotten. No one from the staff ever brings it up, and for a week after filming Riki doesn’t even attempt to kiss him again.
(He does, though, in the kitchen when Jake loses in the rock-paper-scissor match to determine who does the dishes. They spend almost an hour in the kitchen before Jungwon comes to check on them, sink and counter still piled high with dirty plates while Jake straddles Riki’s lap on the floor. Their scolding turns into a full-blown group meeting about discretion, and Jake turns so red that sneaky photos of his expression circulate the group chat for months. He swears that he’ll never kiss Riki again.
But he does.)