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When Jay punches Sunoo for the ‘No Doubt’ music video, he feels genuinely bad afterward. He acts more nonchalant about it on camera, but immediately apologizes to Sunoo when they're not being filmed anymore, to which his dongsaeng just laughs and punches his shoulder good-naturedly as ‘payback.’ He forgets about the incident soon after.
When Jay punches Jake for the ‘No Doubt’ music video, he wants to do it again. He finds himself wishing for the director to say they need to do another take, but she says it's perfect, and Jay has zero time to even be disappointed when Jake is coming at him with his gloves raised, and his hand instinctively comes up to push the younger man away.
“I told you to hit on three but you hit on two!” Jake complains for the second time. He’d said the same thing when Jay first landed the hit, but Jay was a bit too dazed to pay attention to his surroundings, almost like he was the one who had gotten knocked in the head.
He doesn't apologize. He laughs, he smiles. But really, he's not present mentally — he's replaying the moment of impact in his head over and over. Half of his reasoning is how Jake had looked; the blush of his skin coming through his makeup, the messiness of his hair, the way his eyes widened in surprise for a split second and the glee that filled them when he got to complain about it.
The other half of his reasoning, however, is the sound Jake made. A soft noise of surprise, quite literally punched out of him, the natural whiny tone of his voice catching the tail end, just barely tipping over the edge into a moan. It was quiet, but it sounded like a gunshot in Jay’s ears, and continues to ring in them as if that were the case.
Jay’s head spins, and he lets himself wonder what else could pull that sound from his bandmate.
🥊
When the music video behind comes out, Jay doesn't bother watching any of the beginning. He slides the progress bar over until he hits the ten-minute fifty-second mark and is greeted with a bottom-up scene of himself and Jake sparring. He pauses the video, starts screen-recording, waits three seconds, and plays it again.
The angle changes, but it's only a couple seconds, then it's cutting over to Jake’s interview. Jake, with tousled hair and faux-bruising. Jake, looking like Jay had punched him hard. He knows it's all makeup, but the brain is a crazy thing.
Another cut. Himself and Jake, with Jake’s voice overlayed on top, and Jay has a feeling he knows exactly why they edited it this way. Milliseconds before the timestamp hits eleven minutes, Jay’s gloved fist connects with Jake’s face, and the younger man stumbles back. He comes at Jay with that whiny voice of his, and Jay stops the screen-recording.
Degenerate, his own brain whispers to him. You're a degenerate, Jay.
Jay resolutely ignores the voice in his head and crops the recording down to just a couple seconds, looping it over and over and over—
When he cums, it's with one hand shoved down his pants and the other pressing play on the clip once again, forcing his eyes to stay open so he doesn't miss a single second.
🥊
Jay shows up to the downstairs dorm with the excuse of wanting to hang out with Jungwon. He walks in only to find it mostly empty, with only one member remaining.
“Oh, Jay,” Jake says, pausing whatever movie he's watching on the living room television, the Netflix pause screen appearing. “I didn't know you were coming.”
“Hey,” he greets, tugging his shoes off at the doorway, pulling on some of the guest slippers. “Is Jungwon here?”
Jake watches him, humming. “No, he and Sunoo just went out,” he says, then offers him a lopsided smile. “Just me here, unfortunately.”
Jay lets out an ‘ah,’ but the truth is, he knew. His original plan was to hang out with Jungwon, but he’d texted the leader first and learned of his plans with Sunoo. When presented with the knowledge that Jake was in the dorm by himself, his plans switched instantly — and to be honest, he prefers it this way.
“That's fine with me,” Jay says with a shrug, flopping down next to Jake on the couch. There's a purpose to his proximity; close enough to feel the other’s body heat, but not close enough for them to actually touch. It's a weird, tense grey area, bordering on uncomfortable, but that's the whole point.
“What are you watching?” he asks, throwing one arm behind Jake — but still not touching him — as he regards the television.
“Just some random movie Sunoo recommended,” Jake says, not seeming to notice the strange atmosphere yet. “It's pretty boring, though. I was thinking of finding something else to watch, if you're down.”
And really, it's too easy for the words to slip from Jay’s mouth as his gaze slides back over to his friend. “Have you seen the ‘No Doubt’ behind yet?”
“Ah, no, I haven't.”
“Why not?” Jay asks, a teasing grin appearing on his face as he pokes Jake’s side with his free hand. “Too embarrassed to watch yourself get beat up?”
Jake rolls his eyes, pushing Jay’s hand away with a scoff, but there's a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “You didn't beat me up, don't embellish it. I told the directors I’d let you punch me.”
Jay hums to appease him, but both of them can hear its disingenuous nature. “Still took you by surprise, though.”
“Yah,” Jake complains, shoving Jay properly this time. “Because you punched me on two! How was I supposed to know?”
“Skill issue?"
“You're so full of shit, Jay.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Ugh,” Jake groans, sinking back into the couch with his eyes shut. The warm skin of his neck presses against Jay’s arm. “Did you watch it?”
Jay hesitates, then decides on a half-truth. “Um, not much of it.”
Jake peeks one eye open to look at Jay. “Did you see the part where you punched me, though?”
I haven't been able to get off without replaying it, Jay’s brain says. Even before the behind came out, I thought about it every time I came.
“Yeah, I saw it,” Jay’s mouth manages to get out, his tongue feeling heavy as the image plays in his head, appearing in startling quality every time he blinks. He applauds himself for forming a normal response for roughly two seconds before saying something bordering on deranged. “They put the audio from your little interview over it, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure it's to cover up the fact that you moaned when I hit you.”
Jake chokes on air, eyes wide as he shoots up into a proper sitting position, his whole body stiff as he faces Jay. “I’m sorry?”
Whatever part of Jay’s brain that controls logic has most certainly shut off, because rather than backtracking or apologizing, he just shrugs. “I said what I said.”
Jake blinks at him, mouth opening and closing as he searches for words. Jay has the privilege of watching his skin bloom a fiery shade of red in real time, rivaling the amount of blush he had on during the music video shoot. Slowly, his shock morphs into defensiveness, his eyebrows scrunching together as he straightens his back. “I didn't moan, you freak.” His tone of voice isn't lending credence to his statement at all.
“You're calling me a freak, but I’m not the one who gets off on pain.” No, Jay is the one who gets off on seeing Jake in pain, perhaps even causing it, which arguably makes him just as bad if not worse.
“I don't get off on it!” Jake argues, his face turning so many shades redder that Jay almost fears the poor guy is going to pass out.
“Dude, you can't lie for shit,” Jay retorts, pointing out an easily accepted truth within the group. Ever since their lie-based EN-O’Clock, it's become extremely obvious.
“I’m not lying,” Jake whines, his voice pitching slightly up in a way that has Jay’s heart dropping past his stomach and into his dick. “I hate you.”
Jay simply pats him on the shoulder, then squeezes it. “Hey, there's nothing wrong with being into that,” Jay assures him with a playful grin. “There's worse kinks out there.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Okay, that's definitely an example of a worse kink—”
The glare Jake sends him is enough to silence him. They stare each other down for a few moments, Jake with his hands clenched into fists on top of his mostly-bare thighs. For the first time, Jay registers that the younger man is wearing shorts, and really, he can't help his next actions.
He reaches out as if possessed, his index finger and thumb taking hold of a small patch of skin on Jake’s thigh, and pinches. Hard. Hard enough for his nails to dig in and leave a mark, hard enough that it runs straight past the line of playfulness and dips into intent to hurt.
It takes a third of a second for Jay to snap out of it and realize he's taking it too far, and his hand quickly retreats, an apology already forming in his throat. It takes two thirds of a second for the apology to die on the tip of his tongue because oh, Jake made that sound again, but louder.
The room falls into deafening silence for a moment. The blush on Jake’s face has traveled down his neck and spread over the minuscule amount of chest visible at his shirt’s neckline. His breathing is a bit heavier, and his bottom lip is securely between his teeth, eyes not meeting Jay’s.
Slowly, once Jay’s brain has properly registered what just happened, a lazy grin spreads over his face. He was mostly teasing before, his intentions completely self-indulgent, wanting to fuck around with Jake a bit to rile him up. He hadn't expected to actually be right.
“Oh?” Jay says, leaning forward slightly so Jake can’t avert his gaze as easily. “So you are into it.”
Jake scowls at him and leans back. “Okay, maybe,” he begrudgingly admits, giving in to the eye contact. “But I’m not— I’m not a freak,” he insists, his voice quiet as if they're not the only ones here for the next couple hours.
“I think you are,” Jay says, his grin not once wavering. “Masochist.”
“Sadist,” Jake bites back.
Well, he's got a point. Jay is a sadist in this regard, at least somewhat. Maybe he would've argued if he was accused of it before the inciting incident, but at this point, he's in too deep. He wants to make him cry, make him suffer a little. With consent, obviously, because he may be a little obsessed with Jake’s pain, but he's not a monster.
“If the shoe fits,” Jay replies, not denying the accusation. He finds satisfaction in the way Jake’s eyes widen slightly, obviously not having expected an agreement. “Doesn’t that make us compatible?” His voice is lilting, teasing, toeing the line between a joke and the truth.
“I’m not into you, I’m into pain,” Jake says. Impossibly, he manages to turn even redder than before upon his own admittance of the latter sentence.
“I think you might be a little into me.”
“In your dreams.”
Jay laughs and shakes his head, but really, Jake is completely accurate in that statement. His dreams lately have consisted of himself and Jake in vivid detail — his boxing glove colliding with Jake’s face, pushing him to the floor of the ring, their split lips moving against each other so hard that it stings, the metallic taste filling his mouth. Fighting like they're trying to win something, grappling for control and ending with sweat and cum mixing on tanned skin. Jay wakes up in that same state more often than not.
The imagery has him feeling emboldened, and he leans towards Jake again. But when he sees the way Jake leans back, he pauses. “Hey,” Jay says softly, his tone shifted. “If I say or do anything that makes you uncomfortable, tell me.”
Jake visibly swallows. “Okay.”
“So,” Jay says, extending the syllable, moving into Jake’s personal space again, “is it any kind of pain, or is there a type you prefer?”
Jake curses, hand weakly pushing Jay back by the shoulder. Satisfaction pools in his gut when he registers that Jake isn't using his full strength to do so, not even half. “That is a batshit insane question,” Jake hisses. “You are the freak here.”
“Am I?” Jay asks, his head tilting to the side. Slowly, his gaze lowers then raises, his eyes glinting. “Because by the looks of it, only one of us is hard,” he observes, “and it's not me.”
Jake’s eyes flash with surprise and panic, and the way he immediately looks down is cute. “It's not like that,” he argues, his voice small. “It's just— we're talking about it, and you touched me, it's hard not to imagine things!”
Jay throws his head back and laughs. Jake is so, so easy. At least, he's easy when it comes to Jay, always has been. He complains and he whines and he pushes, but it's all surface level, never laced with true anger or discomfort. At the end of the day, Jay has Jake wrapped around his finger. The thing is, it's also true vice-versa, but Jake doesn't seem to have caught on to that yet.
“Okay, sure,” Jay concedes. “But you didn't answer my question. What kind of pain are you into, Jakey?”
Jake goes completely quiet for a while. Not once has the flush on his cheeks lessened.
When it's been at least a minute of pure silence, Jay starts to speak up.
“You don't have to ans—”
“I like when it takes me by surprise, or it's quick.”
Oh. Oh. Oh, this is good.
“So you'd like getting slapped,” Jay muses.
Jake huffs. “I don't know, I’ve never been slapped.”
“I can fix that.” Once again, Jay is speaking without a filter. He really can’t help it, when the opportunity has landed perfectly in his lap.
Jake stares at him, a mix of shock and skepticism in his eyes. “You want to slap me?”
“Yeah,” he admits. He's past the point of shame. Knowing that Jake is turned on is doing wonders for his confidence.
Jake frowns at him. “What if it leaves a mark?”
That's not an immediate no, which is a good sign. “It's part of our concept anyway,” Jay points out. “Plus, makeup exists. Either way, I won't slap you hard enough to break skin or bruise or anything.”
“What do you even get out of this?” Jake asks. His posture isn't as defensive anymore, and the tone of his voice indicates that he's receptive. “Is it a sex thing? It has to be a sex thing.” When Jake’s gaze diverts down, he freezes, then looks back up at Jay’s face. “Oh, you're such a fucking liar, you're hard too.”
Jay doesn't have an excuse for that. When he had teased Jake about it, he wasn't hard, just mildly horny, but the thought of inflicting pain because Jake wants it has him properly turned on. “Well, it seems we're both in the same situation,” Jay says. “Wanna do something about it?”
Jay watches with great satisfaction as Jake opens his mouth, presumably to say no, and then hesitates. He stares at Jay like he's a math problem, going over his potential solution methods, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. Finally, he sighs, slumps back into the couch, and says;
“We need a safeword.”
🥊
They decide on chaconne, because Jake is corny and Jay lets Jake do whatever he wants.
They also decide to move it to Jake’s room, as per Jay’s request; despite Jungwon and Sunoo being gone, it's unclear when they'll be back, and Jay would rather die than have Jungwon of all people find him in any sexual situation, let alone with Jake.
It's not that he's ashamed of this situation or anything. He just knows he’ll never live it down, forced to endure teasing about it for the rest of his idol career. He's already playfully bullied by the members enough as is, he doesn't need to add to that.
There's a thick tension in the air as soon as the door shuts behind Jay. He can't quite tell if it's awkwardness, because he definitely feels that, but it's more complicated than that. Oddly enough, he’s anticipating it.
“Would it be weird if I kissed you?”
The question snaps Jay out of his thoughts, his eyes widening as he turns his gaze to Jake, the younger standing next to his bed with his hands fidgeting in front of him.
Jay can't help the amused smile that appears on his face. If he's feeling awkward about the whole thing, Jake must be experiencing it ten times worse, and somehow that eases Jay.
“It would be weird, yeah,” Jay says. Jake’s expression twitches into disappointment for a solid two seconds before Jay remedies it. “But this entire thing is weird, so I say go ahead.”
Jake stares at him for a moment, looking almost like he doesn't believe Jay. He looks even more puppy-like than usual, fluffy-haired and doe-eyed, hands clenched at his sides. Maybe it's concerning how desperately Jay wants to fuck him up, leave him panting and tear stricken, watch as his stubborn act drops. It's a new feeling, but strong.
He doesn’t have too much time to think about it. In the blink of an eye, Jake is crossing the room and grabbing both sides of Jay’s face, smashing their lips together, diving right into the deep end.
There's nothing romantic about it. Still, Jay feels something zip up his spine, the chemicals in his body going haywire as Jake’s mouth practically devours Jay’s smaller one, the hands on his face moving down to his waist and squeezing. Maybe the attraction is more reciprocated than Jay thought, if Jake’s enthusiasm is anything to go by.
Jay’s right hand finds its place on the nape of Jake’s neck, while his left hand grabs one of Jake’s wrists, holding it in place on his waist. As a little test, Jay digs his nails into the thin skin there, his body heating up when Jake’s movements falter and he breaks the kiss to inhale sharply.
“So like,” Jay teases breathily, “do you get horny when you stub your toe or something?”
Jake scowls, jabbing his fingers into Jay’s waist. It’s barely hard enough to hurt. “It's different when it's someone else doing it,” Jake retorts. Jay figured that was the case, but he likes pissing Jake off. “It's kind of like how you can't tickle yourself.”
“Oh? Are you into that too?”
“I swear to God, Jay, if you—”
Jake gets cut off when Jay pinches at the ticklish spot on Jake’s side, a laugh tumbling from his lips as he immediately tries prying Jay off of him. “Yah!” Jake complains through giggles, his hands each grabbing Jay’s wrists. It doesn't stop him, he likes seeing the younger laugh, it’s cute.
Jake tries a new tactic, trying to walk backwards and put distance between them, but all he manages to do is tug Jay along for the ride. All the while, he can barely catch his breath, face turning redder as his smile shows off his pretty teeth, and Jay can only stare.
Inevitably, Jake can’t move back any further, his bed blocking the way. Jay grins at the advantage, pushing Jake over and earning a small squeak of surprise as he lands on his bed. “I thought you were smarter than that?” Jay says, his hands stopping in a grip around Jake’s waist.
“Fuck you, seriously.”
Jay doesn't bother responding, leaning down to capture Jake’s lips in another kiss, to which the other immediately reciprocates, grounding himself with his hands on Jay’s shoulders. He's clearly out of breath from the sudden tickling attack, chest heaving, but he makes no move to stop kissing Jay. When Jay pulls back to give Jake a break, it almost looks like he's already been ruined.
His cheeks are flushed a rosy pink, the hue traveling down his neck and to his ears. His hair fans out below him, and fuck, nobody should be able to suit brown hair so well. Nobody should be this effortlessly gorgeous in the middle of a random day, no makeup, no styling.
Obviously, he already knew Jake was hot. All of his members are, that's just how it is in the industry. But being constantly surrounded by pretty faces has desensitized Jay to how beautiful the people around him actually are — how attractive Jake is.
Now he's acknowledging it, and there's no way he’ll ever be able to look at Jake normally ever again. Even if he turns back now, it's already set in stone. Jake is pretty, too pretty.
“Jay-ah,” Jake speaks up after a moment of catching his breath, “are you gonna hit me?”
A sentence like that shouldn't be the hottest thing Jay has ever heard anyone say, but somehow it is. He's learning way too much about himself today.
“Yeah,” Jay says, his own voice more hoarse and breathy than expected. “You're sure you want me to?”
Jake chews his lower lip, then nods. “Do it.”
“You're really sure?”
“Jay.” Jake’s face is serious, his eyes not leaving the other’s. “I’m sure. I promise.”
With a shaky breath, Jay cups Jake’s face with his left hand, a steady presence — but it's not meant for comfort. It's meant for safety, because Jay would rather not have to explain to their manager why Jake has a whiplash injury.
(And maybe because he really, truly, does care about Jake’s safety and overall well-being. But thinking about that makes him cringe.)
“Do you want a countdown, or do you want it to be a surprise?” Jay asks. He's half-stalling, but it really is a valid question.
“Surprise me.”
“Okay.” Jay takes another shaky breath. “Okay, got it.”
And then the room goes quiet. There's a heavy anticipation, a tension that only Jay has the power to break. It's nice to be in control of the situation, but it's also kind of terrifying.
A few more seconds of silence go by, and Jake’s closed eyes flutter slightly as he huffs in impatience. “If you don't want to, you don’t have—”
Slap.
It's silent after the brief echo of the hit sounds through the room. Jake’s eyes are slightly wide, red slowly blooming over his right cheek. And for a moment, Jay can't help but think, I fucked up, that was too much, Jake hated it, he hated it, he ha—
“Harder.”
Jay snaps out of his thoughts. “What?”
“Do it again,” Jake says, “but harder.” His pupils are dilated, way more so than before. “Please.”
Jay swallows the lump in his throat, his nervousness slowly seeping away. He should allow himself the chance to actually enjoy the next one — after all, this is everything he wanted.
“Okay,” he agrees. “How much harder?”
“I don't know,” Jake whines, clearly wanting Jay to just get on with it. “Just do it.”
Not wanting to keep the man waiting, no matter how endeari— how gross his pleading is, he stabilizes Jake’s face again and lines up.
This time, when the hit connects, Jay immediately feels a satisfaction pool in his stomach. That sound, that gorgeous little moan from the music video shoot and earlier on the couch, has returned. Jay wants that sound isolated and put into his music program, wants to play with the pitches and make a song. It's objectively a weird thought to have, but sue him, he's horny.
Jake’s eyes open after a couple seconds, still dilated, but looking slightly dazed this time. Both cheeks are flushed, one obviously more than the other, and there are a couple tears forming at his waterline.
“You good?” Jay asks. His hand wants to move to Jake’s cheek to soothe the pain there, but he knows that won't help, so instead he cups the younger’s jaw.
“Yeah,” Jake confirms, blinking a few times, that dazed look disappearing. “Can you do it again?”
“I don't feel like I can safely do that,” Jay reluctantly denies. As much as he'd love to give Jake what he wants, what they both want, safety is priority. “We’re already pushing it.”
Whatever reaction Jay thought Jake was going to have to that denial — disappointment, arguing, pouting, whatever — it wasn't this. This being Jake grabbing him by the collar and pulling him into a heavy kiss, body ever-so-slightly arching upwards as if their cores are magnetized. Despite his confusion, Jay melts into it, his left hand creeping up from Jake’s face to run through his hair.
“New turn-on discovered,” Jake whispers against Jay’s mouth, lips brushing with every syllable, “guys who actually care.”
Jay pulls back more at that, scowling. For good measure, his hand leaves Jake’s hair to flick his temple. “Where'd you get that idea, huh?”
Jake grins, looking way too satisfied for someone who just got slapped twice. There’s a certain fire in his eyes, one that Jay can't identify the source of, and it pisses him off. “Don't deny it,” Jake says, reaching up to snake a hand around the nape of Jay’s neck. His voice turns sing-song with his next words. “Our Jjongsaeng-ie is just a softie.”
“Whatever.”
Jake giggles at Jay’s flippant denial, which is devastating for Jay, because the younger man’s laugh is probably one of the top ten cutest sounds he’s ever heard. To mitigate the damage, Jay kisses him again to muffle the sound, forcing that fond feeling into one that's purely physical.
Jay can’t help but wonder what they're doing at this point, though. They both got what they agreed on, twice-over in fact, so why are they still glued to each other? Their curiosity should be settled.
Except… it isn't. Not for Jay, at least. If anything, his curiosities have grown tenfold. How else can he get Jake to make that sound again? What other types of pain does he like? How much experience does he have sexually? Has he been with a guy before?
He's about to pull away to ask something idiotic like what are we when Jake breaks the kiss himself and asks Jay something even more terrible. “How gay are you?”
Jay stops in his tracks, the question so absurd that it takes him a moment to process it. When he does, all he can do is let out a disbelieving laugh. “How gay am I?” he repeats.
“Yeah, like, you’re obviously gay enough to kiss another guy,” Jake says. His tone implies that his meaning should be obvious, but it's not. Nothing about Jake has ever been obvious to Jay. “But does it go farther than that? How gay is too gay of an activity for you?”
There are so many ways to word a question like that, yet Jake managed to choose the worst possible one. “I don't— I don’t know,” Jay says with a huff. He’s been with men and women before, sure, but with their packed schedule he's never gotten much farther than the basics. “How gay are you, Jake?”
Jake hums, face pinched like he's truly thinking about it. “Gay enough to be weirdly considering sucking your dick right now.”
Complete static. For a brief moment, Jay wonders if Jake has managed to secretly taze him, because the jolt of electricity and inability to move surely can't be all natural.
It takes a moment, but Jay manages to compose himself enough to say something somewhat coherent. “That's— pretty gay.” He winces internally, but really, what is he supposed to say to that? He can't exactly be eloquent when his friend is admitting to maybe wanting to give him head.
Jake doesn't seem deterred by that response, though. “If I asked,” he says, eyes not meeting Jay’s, “would you let me?”
This is escalating way past what he thought would happen when he came down to the dorm. To be fair, he didn't think he’d even get to kiss Jake, but still. This isn't a situation he thought he'd find himself in.
And really, Jay should say no. It's already gone too far, they can’t come back from this. He can’t just unlearn how Jake tastes, what he sounds like when he's turned on, how flushed he gets after a bit of kissing, the clumsy way their mouths meet.
But maybe that's a reason to say yes.
If they've already crossed the point of no return, what's the harm in going a little further?
🥊
This was a mistake.
If Jay thought feeling Jake’s mouth against his own was life-ruining, then feeling Jake’s mouth around his dick is ripping apart the fabric of space and time.
Jake’s on his knees at the end of the bed, and Jay has his legs open and feet planted onto the floor to stop himself from moving. His fingers tangle into the other’s hair; Jay has to show the utmost restraint not to grab a fistful and tug him closer.
“Fucking hell, Jake,” Jay breathes out, eyes closing momentarily as Jake does something entirely indescribable with his tongue. “Have you done this before?”
Jake just grins, and maybe Jay is also a bit of a masochist, because when Jake’s teeth graze the sensitive skin of his cock, he jolts at the nip of pleasure that shoots up his spine. “Maybe once or twice,” Jake says in a tone that very much implies he's done it more than that. As he speaks, his lips stay on the head, his hand squeezed around the length he can't reach.
“Bullshit,” Jay says. “You’re way more practiced than th— fuck!”
Jake laughs— no, he giggles around Jay’s dick as he swallows it down in one go, the vibrations and constriction of his throat sending Jay teetering on the edge of an orgasm. It's been maybe five minutes, it's honestly quite embarrassing on Jay’s part, but sue him. He's a healthy guy in his early twenties who gets the chance to get off about once a week if he’s lucky. A strong breeze could probably make him cum at this point.
“Jake,” Jay manages, “Jaeyun, I’m close.”
Jay expects Jake to taunt him in some way, maybe laugh or even pull off to make a quip. Instead, though, Jake’s eyebrows pinch together as he whines, the hand he has on Jay’s cock stuttering in its movements. Curiosity spiked by the reaction, Jay musters up all the mental presence he has left to look him over, which is another mistake.
Jake has his pants pushed down past his hips — Jay doesn't even know when he managed that, likely when Jay was too distracted with getting his sanity sucked out through his dick — and his free hand speeding over his cock. He looks desperate with it, hips stuttering every few strokes, his whole length slick with wetness despite there not being any lube in sight. God, does he really get that wet?
The sight makes Jay’s orgasm rip through him out of nowhere, his head tipping forward as his hips thrust forward on instinct. Jake takes it like he was made for it, swallowing around Jay with furrowed eyebrows, his throat constricting and drawing out the best orgasm of Jay’s life.
It takes Jay a moment to regain his bearings, but when he does, he pushes Jake off of him. “Come up here,” Jay insists, breathless, tugging at whatever on Jake he can reach. “Lemme help.”
Jake shakes his head, red in the face as a bead of sweat slowly trails down his cheek. His cheek, which is still stained red from Jay’s touch. “You don't need to,” Jake says, clearing his throat when his voice comes out hoarse.
“Yah,” Jay scolds, “don't be stubborn, let me—”
“I already came, okay?”
The raspy words silence Jay immediately, mouth clamping shut for a moment. He inhales, exhales, then briefly wonders if it's possible for his refractory period to suddenly disappear. It doesn't, but it sure feels like it could, with the way Jake’s admission sends heat coursing throughout his body.
“You like giving head that much?” Jay manages finally, propping himself up and watching as Jake pulls his pants up. He winces, knowing it must not feel great to have cum drying on his skin and underwear.
“Maybe,” Jake says, climbing back up onto the bed and collapsing beside Jay, who tucks himself back into his own pants and lowers onto the bed fully. “Mostly I just liked hearing how hot you sound.”
Jay’s stomach swoops. “Oh.”
Jake must see it on Jay’s face, because he giggles, propping himself up on his elbow to get a better look. His hair falls in front of his face, and Jay clenches his fists to stop himself from doing stupid like tucking it behind Jake’s ear.
“You're hot, you know that, right?” Jake says.
Jay’s face bursts into flames. At least, it feels like it. “Why are you so blunt about it?”
The younger snorts. “Oh, I can't be blunt after everything we just did? I think I’m allowed, your cum is literally making its way through my digestive system as we spe—”
Jay doesn't know how else to shut him up than grabbing both sides of his face and tugging him into a kiss. Something in him settles as Jake melts into it, free hand resting on the side of Jay’s face, not demanding, just present.
When Jay pulls back, he whispers, “I should go back to my dorm.”
The resulting pout on Jake’s face is devastating. “Why?”
“To get a change of clothes and do my night routine,” Jay tells him.
The pout turns into hope. “You'll come back?”
“If you want, yeah.”
“Of course I want you to,” Jake whines, lightly punching Jay in the shoulder. “You scared me. I thought you were going to abandon me after our beautiful night together—”
“Beautiful? I slapped you in the face, Jake.”
“And that's nice!” Jake huffs. “That takes trust, you know. Either way, I wasn't being serious. Go do your stuff and come back.”
“Fine, fine,” Jay agrees, laughing as Jake tries to push him off of the bed. “You, too. Take a shower.”
“Ugh, right,” Jake says, grimacing. “I should be done by the time you come back.”
Jay gets up from the bed and stretches, flipping off Jake when he calls him old after his back cracks. Internally, he's laughing.
Once he's upstairs, in the middle of changing, his phone goes off. He waits until he's done to check it, and he nearly drops it when he sees the message.
정원이
정원이: Sunoo-hyung and I don't care what you get up to, but next time, please warn a guy
정원이: Or even better do it at the other dorm
나: Sorry, Jungwonie
나: Hyung thought you weren't home
정원이: We got back like fifteen minutes before you left…
Jay rubs a hand over his face, making a mental note to take Jungwon and Sunoo out for a nice meal or something. He almost considers not even returning to the other dorm, but Jake’s hopeful look has him hurrying through his night routine to get back downstairs.
He resolutely ignores the look he gets from Sunoo when they run into each other in the main room.
🥊
Jay thinks that, after everything, he won’t be able to go back to his normal life. Even with the heat of the moment gone and his curiosity sated, his brain cleared of some of the fog, he doesn't know how to return to his daily peace.
He eventually realizes that he actually has gone back to his normal life, but that normal now includes—
“Jay-ah,” Jake sing-songs, slinging an arm around Jay’s shoulders. He’s freshly changed and bare-faced after completing a successful stage. His hair is mussed up and fluffy, free from the hairspray and gel they’re typically subjected to. ”Wanna come to the downstairs dorm when we get back?”
From the other side of the green room, Sunoo winces. Jungwon’s head shoots up to look in their direction, eyes wide and pleading as they lock onto Jay’s. Please, don’t, his face reads. Not again.
Jay chews his lower lip. On one hand, he feels bad; he doesn’t want to disrupt their space with whatever debauchery he and Jake get up to. On the other hand…
Jake is looking at him with a hopeful smile on his face, eyes shining, cheeks still flushed from the adrenaline rush of performing. Before he can even consider his options, words are spilling from his lips. “Yeah, sure,” he answers, and the smile he gets in return is blinding enough for him to ignore the groans that Sunoo and Jungwon let out at his decision.
He can worry about making it up to his teammates another time. For now, he allows Jake to cling to his side, talking his ear off with the typical rapid-fire switches between Korean and English that Jay is often subject to.
(And really, Sunoo and Jungwon have nothing to worry about. Jay and Jake stay holed up in the latter’s room, too tired to do more than lay side by side on the bed, going back and forth about anything and everything. Maybe a fairly tame make-out session finds itself in the mix, but that's neither here nor there.
Jay thinks he likes this more than what they did the other night. Spending time with Jake, relaxing and talking, which he doesn't typically get to do. It brings a sense of peace.
That's not to say he doesn't love the sex. He doesn't know it yet, but there will be a lot more of that in the future, too.)