Work Text:
“Sometimes I wish I wasn't an idol.” Shame flattened Soonyoung's voice into a shadowy whisper.
“Me too,” Jihoon said, because it was true.
It wasn't frequent, or overbearing, but it did happen. Of course it did: their lives were very demanding. He couldn't imagine being enthusiastic about every possible aspect— surely every idol had to have flippantly asked themselves why they’d chosen a career with 3:30 AM call times. It was all very normal to wish for more simplicity and less strain.
Perhaps especially now, lying flat on their sweat-slicked backs in the practice room, the air muggy and thick after hours of brainstorming choreography for the songs Jihoon was writing. The thudding of Jihoon’s pulse in his ears had begun to slow. His fingers tingled and his thighs burned, his lungs heaving unevenly. The eye-searing overhead lights were oppressive even with his eyes closed thanks to their droning buzz of electricity.
He couldn't get up yet. It might be a while before his screaming muscles allowed that.
He'd had worse.
“It’s not that I want to quit,” Soonyoung added. The dance practice rooms were his domain: the only place sacred enough to confess such a thing. Even so, he couldn't help but bluster around the issue, afraid to imply a stronger regret than there was.
“I know,” Jihoon assured him. Soonyoung loved being an idol. It was, he once confided while sitting on the floor of a different practice room and sharing vending machine snacks they weren't supposed to be eating, the only thing he was good at. There had been a little regret then, too; a painful awareness of the fragility of his life. If the industry tossed him aside, where else would he go? The fear was inescapable, yet never fast enough to truly overtake his tenacity and how much he needed to know his hard work had been worth it. Jihoon understood. “Me neither.”
“I just wish I had a normal job sometimes. With predictable work hours so I could actually see my friends on weekends.”
“You have friends outside of the company?”
“That’s another thing! And I’ve never— never dated anyone, or had sex.” He fell into a frustrated silence before muttering, “I've never even been kissed.”
Jihoon frowned. “I’ve seen the members kiss you a million times.”
“I mean kissed for real, not as a joke.”
“What's the difference?”
Seungcheol had kissed Jihoon years ago. He still wasn't sure how much of that had been initially intended as a joke, or how much of the joke had been achieved. Seokmin had kissed him, obviously. And Mingyu. Seungkwan had once tried for his cheek, gotten the corner of his mouth, and turned so red that Jihoon hadn't been able to resist pecking him for real. It had helped: he'd laughed and squeezed Jihoon tight and grateful.
He'd even kissed Soonyoung before, during a drinking game with the members.
He hadn't thought of it as a joke.
In fact, each kiss had sent a zip of energy up his spine and changed the way he saw that member, just a little. It was an interesting way to get to know someone. He knew Soonyoung always, always laughed. He knew Mingyu sometimes hesitated at the last second, afraid of the things he wanted, or how much he wanted them. Jihoon would forever carry a certain fondness for Seokmin; it felt like it would be lying to say that wasn't influenced by his habit of regularly kissing his friends.
“You know,” Soonyoung said meaningfully, but did not clarify his actual meaning.
Jihoon opened his eyes, turned to look at Soonyoung, and waited. A drop of sweat slid down the side of his face and trickled perfectly into his ear. He made a face, then smoothed it out into careful neutrality so that Soonyoung didn't think he was making it at him.
“Not because of a game. And without people laughing.”
Jihoon nodded, conceding those were reasonable points.
“And just, you know. Real.”
“How so?”
Soonyoung's face screwed up for a moment before easing into something thoughtful and serious. He rolled onto his side, their gazes naturally meeting. While the look in his eye wasn't quite so intense as the way he looked when he was performing, even a fraction of it was a sight to behold. He looked so solemn and determined that Jihoon knew there was only one thing he could possibly ask.
“...Can I?”
Jihoon nodded. Soonyoung slid closer, until there was hardly any distance between them. Jihoon tipped up his face and closed his eyes.
Soonyoung didn't laugh this time. He was right: there was a different feeling to being kissed without laughter. Something bigger beneath the surface, as if a whale was passing under a boat. And when the few seconds it took to kiss someone ended, Soonyoung pushed back in, chaining on another. His lips were so soft it hardly felt pushy at all. Feeling flared in Jihoon's chest and electricity sparked in his veins. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before.
When he pulled away, Soonyoung's expression was tender and anxious. It reminded Jihoon of years ago, back before they knew if anything they were doing would be worth it. “Like that,” he finally said.
“It was very nice.” Jihoon liked kissing and that was the longest kiss he'd ever had.
“See? I'm right. It's better.” Soonyoung beamed, pleased with himself. His sharp eyes became warm, happy curves. Jihoon understood why he got so much attention.
“You can kiss me again if you want,” he decided, “not just tonight.”
Soonyoung's voice went shy. “Are you ever gonna kiss me?”
“Mmm. Hard to say. I'm very lazy.”
Soonyoung laughed. Jihoon had always liked making him laugh.
When Soonyoung struggled back up to his feet, he offered Jihoon his hand.
Jihoon took it.
“Jagiya,” Soonyoung said, his voice pitched low, like he was afraid of waking someone up even though they were alone in Jihoon’s studio. “Wanna kiss?”
Jihoon wanted to finish this song before midnight and said so.
Soonyoung sighed. His chair squeaked as he leaned back in it. Jihoon would bet money he was swiveling from side to side. He'd dropped in — God, three hours ago — to ask if Jihoon had eaten yet, and then if he wanted to get dinner together.
“You should go. We'll get dinner another night.”
“I can wait a little longer.”
He was, as it turned out, a man exactly of his word. Barely five minutes passed before a focused warmth bled into Jihoon's attention; Soonyoung had kissed his shoulder.
“Hoshi-yah,” Jihoon said, trying to sound firm.
“Yeah?”
“You’re being distracting.” He wished he could just brush it aside, unaffected by what amounted to oral fidgeting. He wished that Soonyoung's lips kissing up his neck didn't drag his attention away so easily, electricity licking at his nerves.
“Sorry.” But he didn't mean it, because the kiss that followed was the longest of them all. And wet, his mouth open and tongue flickering out. Jihoon's eyes slipped closed; it was better than he'd ever anticipated being licked could be. “Should I stop?”
“I can't work like this,” Jihoon said, which wasn't a real answer. It required supreme effort not to tip his head aside, baring his throat to Soonyoung's mouth.
“You haven't eaten anything in a while,” Soonyoung reminded him. He kissed Jihoon's shoulder again, the worn cotton muffling the sensation enough that Jihoon nearly told him off for being such a tease.
“Do you want me to eat or kiss you?”
“Ideally both,” Soonyoung said brightly.
“You're so greedy,” Jihoon muttered. “If I let you fuss, will you let me finish this track in peace?”
“Of course! What should I order?”
Jihoon spun in his chair.
The jacket Soonyoung had been wearing was over the back of his chair now, his top sleeveless and flowy. He had one leg loosely crossed over the other knee. He was swaying back and forth, his face lit up by his phone. His arms looked good, and he'd had his roots touched up recently, his whole head a shining platinum blond. He reached back, and Jihoon would bet money he was running his fingers along his hairline the way he always did when he got a fresh trim.
He looked very handsome.
“I'll tell you after you kiss me.”
Soonyoung grinned. He swiveled and kicked off the wall to roll closer. Jihoon couldn't decide if it was smooth or dorky.
It was smooth when Soonyoung leaned in to kiss him. He stood up halfway and braced his hands on Jihoon's thighs so that he could lean in. He didn't squeeze too tightly; he was too aware of his body for such things.
It was a shame, though. It sounded nice.
The distinction between platonic, romantic, and sexual relationships had never made much sense to Jihoon. He hadn't been able to figure out if that was an inherent characteristic, or an extreme side-effect of the life he'd led. Even if they hadn’t had a dating ban, it wasn't as if he'd had time for dating.
At least, not anyone outside the group.
He was friends with the members, and he found them attractive, and sometimes he wondered if the painful swelling in his chest when they won awards or played together onstage was more than pride.
He never thought about it for long; the distinction was as unimportant as it was inscrutable. Sometimes Seokmin kissed him, and that was fun. He liked being the focused attention of so much exuberance. Sometimes Joshua got fond and tactile, staring intently at Jihoon's face as he asked him personal questions, like all of Jihoon's unpolished answers were as fascinating as his carefully written lyrics. Sometimes, when they were seated next to each other, Mingyu would skate his fingers up the inside of Jihoon's thigh. Tracing the inseam, of course, but there was more to it. He wanted Jihoon to look at him, to give him that knowing hyung look: Yes, yes. I see you. Now settle down. And he would, his hand returned to Jihoon's knee, satisfied by a small taste of sexual tension.
It was enough for Jihoon to know that he loved them. He didn't have to know its first name.
He had the feeling this was unusual, but what was he supposed to do about it?
Did it matter why he was researching — in Korean and English — how to become a better kisser? Kissing soothed Soonyoung; that was the important factor at play. Correction: kissing soothed Soonyoung, and he did not have a lot of people available to kiss. He deserved the best he could get, therefore research was required.
Jihoon read about initiating kisses, and how to go from kissing to making out, and how to tell whether or not you should put a hand between their legs.
It made for a nice break from composing sometimes. It certainly kept him from napping, on days when he was feeling particularly sluggish in the mid-afternoon. Thinking about kissing made him feel too alive to want to nap.
There were a few things he was keen to try, though the ideal circumstances had yet to reveal themselves. He couldn't exactly pin Soonyoung down by their clasped hands during a hurried peck before staff arrived in the practice room. Well, he supposed it was technically possible; he just knew himself well enough to know he would not be satisfied by only pinning Soonyoung for a mere two seconds.
It felt like it was very late in life, comparatively, to be developing a brand new personal greed.
They'd been reminiscing about their memories of touring when Soonyoung dove forward to kiss Jihoon mid sentence. Mid word.
“Ya, why?” Jihoon spluttered. He was finding it difficult to speak after having a tongue run across his lip so unexpectedly.
“You looked pretty.”
That was as destabilizing as the kiss. The knowledge that Jihoon could look good enough that Soonyoung needed to feel that bolt of lightning required processing.
Jihoon quickly decided it wasn’t unwelcome and surged forward to catch Soonyoung's mouth again. He wouldn't have to worry about talking if they kept kissing. They'd gotten pretty good at anticipating each others’ moves, meeting so naturally that Jihoon could kiss on instinct and sink into sensation. He was happily familiar with Soonyoung's tongue swiping along his own and knew exactly how to suck on his upper lip. And it was obvious when everything came together perfectly, because Soonyoung's hands would tighten in Jihoon's hair. He was very handsy. Jihoon had suspected he would be and was pleased to be right.
Jihoon broke away. Soonyoung's eyes fluttered open, kiss-stupid. He looked cuddly and innocent. Jihoon wished he could leave marks on him.
Soonyoung's gaze focused, sharpened, and he curled his hand around the back of Jihoon's neck. Jihoon knew this dance: he leaned in. Soonyoung jolted forward to kiss him before Jihoon could, then licked into Jihoon's mouth like he needed to be inside him.
It was not the most convenient position to kiss in.
Jihoon pulled back, a hand planted on Soonyoung's chest to keep him from following. Then he rolled over, on top of him, knees splayed on either side of Soonyoung's lap.
Soonyoung let out a low ooohh, impressed.
“You looked pretty,” Jihoon said. He knew he was blushing and hoped Soonyoung didn't call him on it.
Soonyoung flushed himself, suddenly bashful. He was beaming, though, so everything was alright.
Jihoon's hand was still on his chest. He put a little more weight on it, just to see what would happen. Soonyoung's eyes fluttered. His smile turned a little lazy, catlike. He was so— sexy. Jihoon had known that in an objective sense: Soonyoung was very good at portraying sensuality. He'd rarely ever felt the truth of it tolling through him so strongly. Heat burned low in his gut and flared wherever they touched.
Fire was good for a forest, Jihoon remembered, and kissed him.
He had to; was utterly helpless not to. Someone as pretty and fun and sexy as Soonyoung deserved to be kissed. Open-mouthed, slick and wet and hot. Jihoon tasted the hum of Soonyoung's voice on his tongue when he made a soft noise, surprised and gratified in equal measure. They held so tight to each other, Soonyoung's hand fisted in Jihoon's shirt and Jihoon's fingers digging into his shoulder.
Don't let go, Jihoon thought hard, unwilling to stop kissing long enough to say it. I intend to keep you forever.
Winter had started out wet and slushy, everyone's eyes on their feet to keep from skidding off the sidewalk and into the road. Traffic slowed to a crawl. Anyone who could work from home did so. That didn't apply to them, so Jihoon watched the days go by through the windows in his studio. Slushy wetness turned frigid quickly, cold, crisp clear skies heralding a severe drop in temperature as soon as the sun slipped behind the horizon.
Today, Soonyoung jumped in the same car as him, and then followed him out to continue complaining about their photoshoot and recording schedule. It was only natural for him to stay for dinner.
By the end of it, placated by social complaining and a good meal, Soonyoung was loath to step back into the winter. Jihoon offered up the other half of his bed before the pouting could get too dramatic. It was silly— both Soonyoung's dramatics and the way Jihoon folded at the slightest hint of them. A lot of the ways he acted around Soonyoung were irrational. It worked for them.
They clumsily orbited around each other as they got ready for bed, hands out to keep from bumping into each other full-force. Soonyoung used Jihoon's sensitive skin face wash and a toothbrush from the pack Jihoon had bought for guests when he moved out of the dorms. Jihoon slipped into bed first, so Soonyoung couldn't accidentally-on-purpose get on Jihoon's side.
By the time the bathroom light flicked off, Jihoon had already set down his phone and closed his eyes.
“Jagiya,” Soonyoung stage-whispered.
“Hmm?”
“Do you want to…” Jihoon looked at him and Soonyoung tried to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively. He made himself laugh instead.
He was cute like this, all bundled up in the blankets, so Jihoon kissed him. Soonyoung hummed, sounding utterly content. Jihoon kissed him again, curling his hand around the back of Soonyoung's neck and scratching at the fuzz at his hairline. Soonyoung shivered. He stuck his hand up Jihoon's shirt to grab his waist skin-to-skin. Jihoon opened his mouth, letting Soonyoung's tongue stroke inside.
Each kiss sparked until warmth blazed between them, Soonyoung pulling Jihoon closer, and closer, until there wasn't any more space to move into. He kept pulling anyway, so Jihoon rolled on top of him. Lying down, under the weight of the blankets, their bodies were pressed together in a brand new way. Jihoon's knees were flush to Soonyoung's sides, their chests brushing on each inhale. Soonyoung's lips were plush and reddened from the kissing, which made Jihoon want to kiss him again. He wanted to get to know this Soonyoung, too.
It was making him hard.
And Soonyoung. Which in turn made him so nervous he didn't dare touch Jihoon with his hands. They lay limp at his sides, as if any more points of contact would make their relationship buckle. It was so unusual to see him uncomfortable in his body that it took Jihoon a long time to recognize the fear behind it. Didn't he know nothing could break them?
Jihoon tipped forward until their foreheads were pressed together. He traced over Soonyoung's lower lip with his thumb. He liked Soonyoung's mouth, with his soft, pouty lips and big teeth; the solar flare of his smile. “What do you want to do now?”
“...More?”
Jihoon nodded, mussing up his own bangs. “Me too.”
Soonyoung kissed him, exhilarated and grateful. It made Jihoon smile too big to kiss, so Soonyoung nipped at his chin instead.
“Ow, why?!”
“Dunno.” A hand skimmed up the back of Jihoon's thigh, just light enough to tickle. He hadn't thought about how ticklish he was in a long time— had thought he wasn't, very. A shiver ran through him all the same.
Soonyoung leaned back, sinking into the pillows to look at Jihoon with the brightest edges of a fond smile lingering on his lips.
“I think you're hot,” he said.
“Me too.”
“You think you're hot?” Soonyoung teased.
“Shut up. I'll leave.”
“It's your apartment.”
“I'll break into yours.”
“You don’t have to break in, you know the code.”
“Maybe I’ve always wanted to learn lockpicking.”
Soonyoung laughed. He caught Jihoon's hips. He pulled Jihoon down right as he tilted up and fireworks crackled down Jihoon's spine. Nothing should be so sexy right after such a stupid conversation. The anxious way that Soonyoung studied his face, searching for Jihoon’s enjoyment, should feel comical; he made that face when he showed Jihoon a new anime. Jihoon should laugh along with, or at least smile.
He surged down to kiss Soonyoung hard, anchoring his attention here, in their bodies, in what burned between them. That was how you made something real: you lived in it for a little while.
For once, their rhythm wasn't instinctively perfect. This wasn't like dancing together. At least, not yet. Maybe he’d get used to it, but for now it felt too good to do deliberately, the spikes of pleasure irregular and blinding. Kissing was a walking bassline, but the grind of their hips were single, sizzling hits to a snare drum. The darkness of the room didn't help, hiding some of the subtleties of Soonyoung's movements and making it impossible to fully anticipate anything. It felt good the way that wakeboarding felt good: constantly exhilarating without any control.
Jihoon wasn't anywhere near climax. He didn't mind.
Soonyoung did.
Once their lips were slick from kissing and Jihoon's knees were splayed wide to press their erections together as much as the impersonal laws of physics would allow, Soonyoung made an impatient, annoyed little noise. Directed at himself, Jihoon knew; it was the sound he made when he fucked up a step or missed a note in the booth.
“Can you— wait.”
Jihoon forced himself to stop moving. After so much time rocking together, holding still made his head spin. It was hard to breathe, but at least he wasn't the only one. Both of them were panting like they were onstage.
Even in the dim light, he could see that Soonyoung was frowning. The idea that Jihoon had done something wrong was crushing; that any of this had been contrary to Soonyoung’s desires.
Careful, prompting, he said, “...Hosa?”
“Can you just relax for a second and let me…” Soonyoung trailed off.
Jihoon couldn't have replied if he wanted to, because then Soonyoung's hands were gently cupping his ass, urging him forward slowly as his hips rose up. The frown melted, Soonyoung's head thrown back and a much better noise leaving his lips.
“Like this,” he sighed. “Okay?”
Jihoon followed his syrupy lead, hyperaware of the long, uninterrupted contact with his ass. Not a playful, flirty slap, but a true, luxurious touch. The inability to do anything but study the angle of Soonyoung's jaw and move the way he was guided made him feel very slow and stupid. This is real, he thought again. He was here, and Soonyoung was here, and something brand new was happening so quickly he feared wouldn't be able to keep up.
He forced his breath to steady, hoping it would take his mind with it. This felt good, didn't it?
Jihoon was not the kind of guy who watched porn, but he read eromanga sometimes. He didn't like the speed of porn, the way it raced on whether he was ready to come or not. He preferred taking it at his own pace, admiring certain poses or pausing in anticipation before tapping the button to take him to the page where the characters would spray cum across the panels. He did not like being hurried, or dragged along.
He thought he hadn't, at least.
But Soonyoung asked him to trust him. That was different, and so far he had no complaints. Jihoon found he wanted to see where this went, what new, wild ride Soonyoung planned to take him on.
Soonyoung set the pace and Jihoon kept it, meeting him thrust for thrust until something sparkling and unavoidable rushed up to meet him. Soonyoung's head was still thrown back, so Jihoon pitched forward, forehead on his shoulder, and grit his teeth as the wave of perfect bliss washed over him. It was different with someone else there; less lonely in the afterburn.
He hadn't come in his sweats for years— not since he was sharing a dorm with too many people to avoid wet dreams via jerking off before bed. If he had been on his own, he suspected he would find this fact humiliating. As it was, he hoped Soonyoung felt good about himself.
Soonyoung gasped. His fingers twitched tighter. He ground up hard — Jihoon tried to protest in sensitivity and only made a sort of grumbling noise, orgasm-ravaged enough that he couldn't coordinate his throat and tongue and lips to speak — and whined, low and long. Jihoon could feel Soonyoung’s cock twitching with the pulses. He imagined his cum painting the inside of his underwear.
He wondered how big it was. It was not an easy thing to gauge, never having used his own dick as a ruler before. He wondered how it would feel pressed to his skin rather than valiantly hard through several layers of clothes.
He hoped Soonyoung wanted to do this again. Not exactly this; after all, he had questions that needed answers.
Once he caught his breath, Jihoon rolled off of Soonyoung to stretch out his stiffened hips. Their breath evened out. Soonyoung hadn't said anything for quite some time, which worried Jihoon. Just because it had been Soonyoung's idea didn't mean he wouldn't regret it.
Winter had a special quality of silence, like time itself had been muffled by snow. Jihoon breathed shallowly, just in case Soonyoung spoke in a whisper. Assuming he would speak.
Finally, Jihoon ventured, “Okay, Young-ah?”
Soonyoung giggled in weary, delighted disbelief. “That was awesome.”
Pride and hope buoyed Jihoon up with dizzying speed. He chastised himself for worrying at all: didn't he know their relationship couldn't be broken?
“Is there anything we're not good at?” Jihoon asked. He didn't bother fighting his grin.
Soonyoung laughed again. His fingers slid over Jihoon's wrist. His voice was feather-soft. “I hope not.”
“Our genius producer!” Seokmin cried as soon as they were all stuffed back in their greenroom, took Jihoon's face in his hands, and gave him a loud kiss. It was the beginning of a swarm: Joshua and Seungkwan kissed either cheek and Seungcheol kissed the back of his neck. Jun, Vernon, and Chan were laughing at the edges of the crowd when Wonwoo took his hand to kiss his knuckles; Mingyu bullied his way forward to pepper kisses everywhere he could reach.
Jihoon went limp with laughter, only tight where his hands gripped the new award. They delighted him. He loved this team so much.
The kiss he shared with Soonyoung was softer than all the others, tender and lingering. When it broke, Soonyoung pulled him into a tight, tight hug, cradling the back of Jihoon's head in the palm of his hand. He whispered I love you right in Jihoon's ear.
Jihoon hugged him back, patting him. “I know. I love you, too.”
Since he'd already been thinking about it, it left him easier than it often did.
Soonyoung went for another kiss when they pulled away and Jihoon shoved at his mouth, both of them laughing.
“Let someone else congratulate him,” Jeonghan cut in. He didn't kiss Jihoon, but he cupped his cheek and gave him a warm, adoring smile.
“This belongs to all of us,” Jihoon said, looking down at the award.
To really drive that point home, he treated them to dinner. He even let them order as many drinks as they wanted. Not that it was selfless; he did, admittedly, enjoy their reactions whenever he used his black card.
Soonyoung ended up stumbling drunk, which meant he was also a little loud. It would've stood out more if Seungcheol, Mingyu, and Chan weren't in a similar position. As it was, the gathering was a little more lively than it would have been otherwise, and they had plenty of sober members who could be sure that everyone got home.
Jihoon took care of Soonyoung. Obviously.
Soonyoung gave him an oozy sort of backhug, molding himself to Jihoon's back and leaning against him hard as Jihoon punched in the door code.
Jihoon helped him shower — to give him a better morning than he would have had otherwise — and dumped him into bed. He brought over water and a hangover cure and Soonyoung gave him a soft, gooey smile.
Jihoon bid him goodnight.
“Kiss me goodnight.”
“So demanding,” Jihoon sighed.
“Please?”
Jihoon sighed again, just to be a dick.
Soonyoung reached for him. Jihoon went. Soonyoung's breath tasted awful, but the kiss was otherwise alright.
“Goodnight, Jihoonie,” he mumbled, the words as slurred from the drinking as they were the fact that he was actively falling asleep.
“Goodnight, Soonyoung.”
He was already snoring.
Soonyoung politely waited until all Jihoon was doing was stirring the samgyetang to give him a long, lingering backhug.
“What do you want?” Jihoon was already scanning the countertop for a tasting spoon.
“To make you come again,” Soonyoung admitted into the meat of his shoulder. “I didn't get to see it.”
So Jihoon turned down the burner and taught Soonyoung how to get him off. They took it slow and gradual, building like the dawn. Soonyoung watched, his face serious and intent until Jihoon came without warning and his eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open.
He looked terribly cute, so Jihoon kissed him.
Jihoon wanted to learn how to get Soonyoung off, too.
In the interests of fairness.
And maybe it was cheating to use his mouth, but it fucking worked. So well Jihoon couldn't stop smiling, even though he knew it must make him look like an asshole.
“Should I do you?” Soonyoung asked, his voice still wavering in the aftershocks. His hands were shaking, too. He was looking at Jihoon like he was a miracle. That wasn't exactly new, though not usually from so close.
“No,” Jihoon said. “Let me bask in my victory.”
Soonyoung tucked himself against Jihoon's side, face nestled into the crook of his neck and one long leg splayed across. It seemed like he needed this, for some reason, so Jihoon wrapped his arm around his shoulders and thought about line distributions for the latest album.
Soonyoung liked Jihoon's ass. He didn't say so — often — but it was self-evident from the ass-slapping. However, a lot of the team liked Jihoon's ass; he and Seungcheol and Seungkwan got the bulk of the ass-slaps.
So for a while, it didn't mean anything to Jihoon that Soonyoung often ended up groping his ass while they were making out. After all, you had to put your hands somewhere. Jihoon had seen asses suggested, he had to assume Soonyoung had, too. Or simply watched movies.
Besides, if they weren't blowing each other, they were probably frotting. It made sense for Soonyoung to put his hands on Jihoon's ass; it prevented a repeat of their first clumsy attempts. Jihoon did the same thing when Soonyoung was sprawled on top of him.
There was no special significance to it whatsoever, until Soonyoung put his hands up Jihoon's shorts. The front Jihoon would understand, due to dick-proximity. Up the back gave him pause. It was both hands, too, which felt… emphatic. Jihoon kissed Soonyoung on autopilot as he developed hypotheses.
Soonyoung's fingers edged towards the cleft of his ass. He squeezed, fingers digging into flesh and—
And pulling his cheeks apart.
The realization hit too hard to keep inside, it reverberated out of his mouth the instant it occurred to him: “You want to fuck me.”
Soonyoung buried his face in Jihoon's chest, muffling his voice. “Maybe.”
The idea was almost too large to bear. “I don't know if I'd like that.”
“You don't have to do it just because I want it.” He sounded embarrassed.
It was a strange thing to say. It ran contrary to everything that had ever happened between them. Soonyoung begged for songs, so Jihoon wrote them for him. He wanted to be kissed, so Jihoon kissed him. Making Soonyoung happy was a significant part of Jihoon's life. One he deeply enjoyed, when he was honest with himself about it. Giving gifts felt good no matter what they were; Soonyoung's gratitude knew no bounds.
Jihoon had been quiet long enough for Soonyoung to hurriedly add, “I just like touching you.”
He stroked up and down the back of Jihoon's thigh, as if he thought he needed to prove it. It felt good.
“Is that why?” He simply wanted to touch Jihoon all over, even places Jihoon hadn't touched himself?
“I want—” Soonyoung hesitated. His ears were a brilliant red. Jihoon wondered how many people had seen Soonyoung uncertain of himself, afraid of his desires rather than roaring them to the sky. “I want to make it good for you.”
He felt the paradigm shift happen; it was a motivation he understood perfectly. The idea of letting another man inside him — even if it was Soonyoung — was enormous. The idea of Soonyoung desperately trying to make him happy was temptation itself.
“Okay.”
Soonyoung's head shot up. There was another moment of pale, shaky uncertainty, and then a broad smile overtook his entire face. Breathlessly bold once more, he promised, “I'm gonna make it so fucking good for you, jagiya.”
To say that Soonyoung never overpromised would be a lie. If anyone had ever told him goals were supposed to be achievable, he'd never agreed. He wanted nothing less than the best. Jihoon doubted the first time either of them had anal sex would be the best time they had anal sex, but he wasn't about to be the weak link in the chain; he did his research, both factual and practical, and showed up as ready as anyone could be to have their best friend stick their dick in their ass.
“You should be on top of me,” Soonyoung directed when Jihoon got on the bed, like he was explaining choreography.
“You don't want to fuck me,” Jihoon deadpanned, kneeling on the bed. “You want me to fuck myself for you.”
Soonyoung laughed and did his best to defend himself through trailing giggles. “Ya, it isn’t like that! We’ll work together!”
“That reminds me, were you gonna finger me or am I doing that?”
“Can I? I want to,” raced out of Soonyoung.
Jihoon couldn't help but smile fondly at him; the eagerness was very flattering.
They ended up on their sides, facing each other. Jihoon couldn't bear so much eye contact from so very near and elected to keep his closed. Soonyoung pulled his left knee up over his hip, spreading Jihoon open, and reached between his legs with lube-slick fingers.
Jihoon focused on keeping his breath even; forcing his body to relax.
“Jihoonie,” Soonyoung murmured.
“Mm?”
“Look at me?”
Jihoon’s eyes slid open. Soonyoung's face was very close and very anxious.
“Are you enjoying this at all?”
Jihoon considered it. He'd expected fingering to be an intermediate step; a necessary addition, but not a particularly pleasurable one. It didn't hurt, which was good. It wasn't particularly mind-blowing, either. As interesting as the stretch of another finger was, it wasn't going to get him off. Honestly, he wasn't sure he could get off without touching his cock at all. He’d struggled, on his own, to stimulate his prostate directly. It was a lot, and required more precision than he was capable of while trying to manage all the sensations. And now Soonyoung was avoiding it, too. Jihoon angled into the next thrust, so Soonyoung's fingers stroked right over it. The feeling that boiled inside him was sudden and blinding, but not bad.
Intrigued, he nodded. “It's nice.”
“But just nice.”
“It's new for me, too.” Soonyoung found his prostate again and Jihoon's eyelids fluttered, his pulse kicking up into a gallop. “I like that.”
Novelty could be unpleasant for Jihoon from the unfamiliarity alone; liking it was a good sign.
Relieved, Soonyoung smiled. He shifted close enough for Jihoon to feel his breath and slowly circled inside Jihoon. Jihoon did his best to stifle a tight grunt when the bone-deep spike of sensation remained, relentless. He grabbed Soonyoung's bicep and held on, feeling how flexed tense he was, holding himself exactly in the same place.
“Should I stop?”
“No.”
He almost got it now, how to fit this feeling into his understanding of pleasure; he was working out how to tense and relax to let it wash over him. It was making him really fucking hard, for fuck's sake.
When Soonyoung did have to stop, citing a muscle cramp, both of them were breathing hard, their cocks trapped between their bodies. Soonyoung wasn’t as big, but he got wetter than Jihoon did. Maybe he could even use it as lube, fucking Jihoon open with nothing but himself.
Soonyoung shook out his hand, adjusted Jihoon's knee on his hip, and got back to it.
Jihoon was engulfed in Soonyoung— his fingers curling deep and their bodies plastered together, ear against his chest to hear the pound of his heart. Soonyoung's breath was erratic, his attention evidently focused solely on Jihoon. It would be cozy if it weren't for the relentless cycle of being fingerfucked, plus the fact that rolling down into the touch made his cock grind against Soonyoung's stomach.
It was the matter of a single overwhelming instant that made everything begin to boil.
“Wait.” Soonyoung stopped moving, but he didn't take his fingers out. Jihoon felt his pulse thumping where he was stretched around them. “I don't think you can fuck me after I come.”
Soonyoung's face was flushed, his lips parted. His chest heaved with his breath. He was utterly silent. He looked as overwhelmed as Jihoon felt.
Jihoon brushed their lips together; kissing soothed Soonyoung. “Okay?”
Soonyoung licked his lips, like he wanted the aftertaste of the kiss. “Yeah. Yeah. Okay.”
He went easy as anything when Jihoon rolled them over. Blinking up at Jihoon with his cheeks flushed and eyes hazy, he looked terribly innocent— even though Jihoon could feel his lube-slick fingers sliding on his hip and feel his erection brushing his thigh.
“You're pretty,” Jihoon told him.
“Not as pretty as you,” Soonyoung replied, so soft it was hard to hear.
Jihoon snorted and leaned back to slather Soonyoung's cock in lube. It made him sigh, his hips twitching into the touch. He was sensitive. This might not last very long, but Jihoon figured that was ideal for a first try anyway.
Sitting on Soonyoung's dick wasn't as scary as he thought it was going to be. The head slid in, nice and easy. All of their preparations had helped.
“Did I do well?” Soonyoung asked, not quite smiling.
“You did well,” Jihoon was forced to concede as he sank down a little further. He paused to acclimate, his hand braced on Soonyoung's chest.
It wasn't the same as fingering. Obviously. Fingering was a pinpoint assault, either mind-blowing or neutral. This was ever present; his awareness that there was something inside him at the forefront of his mind no matter what he did. Soonyoung was inside him. Very politely so: he held still, his hands twisting in the sheets at his side and his chest shuddering with his breaths.
Jihoon couldn't resist, not when he looked so overwhelmed. In a saccharine voice he asked, “Weren't you going to fuck me?”
Soonyoung swore. He thrust up, punching the breath out of Jihoon's lungs. The twined sensation of full and deep didn't last very long, but he got it again soon after. He had to brace his hands on Soonyoung’s chest, both for balance and to best anticipate the hard roll-and-snap of his body. The speed of his movements and the sudden frenzy of them were classic Soonyoung, really.
He burned out quickly, jaw clenched tight and whining. When he tried to move slowly, his whole body shuddered.
“Young-ah. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I'm just—” Soonyoung threw his head back and moaned. He was stroking high on Jihoon's thighs, right where they met his hips. Experimentally, Jihoon tightened around him. Soonyoung moaned again, short and sharp. His fingers dug in. He was already overcome by Jihoon.
Jihoon bit back a proud smile. He patted Soonyoung’s heaving chest. “Relax, Soonyoungie. I'll make it good for you.”
He did not, as it turned out, have to try very hard to make it good for Soonyoung. As soon as he found his rhythm, each time he dropped down made Soonyoung sigh, and every so often he'd pull off entirely, which made Soonyoung's eyes shoot open, pleading, until Jihoon let him back inside.
They'd always been good at teasing each other. There was a science to knowing exactly when and how to push that they'd mastered years ago— Jihoon was very pleased to learn it still applied. He knew when Soonyoung needed to be kissed to smooth away a bereft pout, and when to lean back to show off how good it felt when Soonyoung's cock stroked over his prostate just right.
Emotionally they were as resilient as ever; sexually Jihoon had never been more aroused in his life, high off the rush of making Soonyoung desperate.
Physically, he did discover some personal limitations.
“Shit.” Jihoon gripped tight to the headboard for support. “Remind me to do more squats next time we're at the gym.”
Soonyoung shoved himself upright to kiss Jihoon eager and wet and hungry, one arm tight around his waist to help him move. As lean as Soonyoung was, his muscles were as hard and wiry as a whip; with their support, the burn in Jihoon's thighs eased. Soonyoung stroked one, digging his thumb into the places where Jihoon often carried tension after dance practice. His hand trailed up, closer to Jihoon's bobbing erection.
“‘f you touch my dick ‘m g’nna come,” Jihoon warned him, words smeared against his mouth.
Soonyoung chuckled; Jihoon couldn't tell if he was gloating or amazed. It was a surprise to find he didn't really care.
His hand trailed up. He caught Jihoon's nipple loosely between his fingers and slowly, slowly increased pressure. The burn was sweet, it sent a distant twinge to Jihoon's cock. A noise sighed out of him; Soonyoung hummed warmly in reply.
“I’m close, too,” Soonyoung murmured.
“Convenient.”
Soonyoung laughed again, grabbed tight to Jihoon's hips, and held him down, burying himself in deep just as he began to pulse inside Jihoon. It was a heady feeling, making him come like this. Jihoon took a lot of pride in fitting him inside his body and wringing the orgasm out of him with his hole clenched tight; making him moan and shiver and clutch to Jihoon's back, like he needed more.
Jihoon didn't get to finish his mental ranking of which method made him most proud to bring Soonyoung to orgasm before Soonyoung wrapped a hand around his cock and pulled him over the edge.
Jihoon slept ensconced in Soonyoung: in his bed, surrounded by the smell of the leave-in conditioner he used when he bleached his hair. He got used to it quickly, of course, but even the new normal never smelled quite like home.
That, or the fact that one of Soonyoung's feet kept tangling between his calves made it obvious.
Not that it was a problem. Jihoon always got back to sleep after the drowsy collisions, so there was no harm done.
“I want to try it,” Soonyoung said, his cheek smooshed against the back of Jihoon's shoulder. There was plenty of room on the couch in the studio, but Soonyoung was pressed close anyway.
Jihoon had his guitar in his lap, tinkering around with a melody line. He couldn't explain why some songs started as a beat while others flowed from his fingertips into the piano; this one hadn't felt right until he pulled out an acoustic guitar. Something about feeling the resonance of the notes against his body was making his path forward much clearer than it used to be.
“Guitar?”
Soonyoung shook his head. “You in me. It looked like you had a good time.”
He wasn’t wrong. “Okay.”
Soonyoung kissed his shoulder; brief, muted warmth. “Should I be worried by how quickly you agreed?”
“You don't think I'm gonna be good to you? I'm offended.”
Soonyoung hugged Jihoon for as long as he could tolerate mid-composing, and let go glowing with happiness.
Soonyoung may have pushed him onto the bed and climbed on before he could say anything, but Jihoon easily flipped them over. He was stronger than Soonyoung in a few critical ways, and Soonyoung never expected sudden wrestling. He probably ought to, given how living at the dorms had been, but whatever defenses he’d built up had been lost when he moved into his own place.
“I don't need you on top,” Jihoon told him. “I've got personal experience, I know what you need.”
“Why were you complaining about doing all the work last time when you're such a control freak?” Soonyoung made a half-hearted attempt at struggling to drive his point home. His gaze went dark when Jihoon held him steady. He licked his lips.
“Why are you pretending that bothers you? You look pretty happy.”
Soonyoung laughed. “Alright, I admit it. I enjoy following your lead.” He laughed again, slower and raspier. “I am a little nervous. You're bigger than me.”
“Oh, am I?” Jihoon feigned casual, as if he hadn't noticed. He let go and sat up, reaching for the drawer he kept sex supplies in.
Soonyoung swatted at his shoulder, staying him. “Don't be like that, I'm letting you inside me.”
“Yeah,” Jihoon said, his mouth suddenly dry. “Thank you.”
Soonyoung's smile melted into something softer, more hopeful.
Jihoon didn't quite know how to say I would never be careless with your body, I promise without sounding laughable, so he pressed his hand to Soonyoung's chest to feel his heartbeat.
They kissed until Soonyoung's arms hung loose enough around Jihoon's neck that he could slide down between Soonyoung's legs. As much as he planned to draw on his own experiences bottoming, he did want to see what he was doing. And, as he had recently learned, Soonyoung was sexy; he wanted a closer view of it.
He hadn't yet figured out how to get lube on his fingers without getting it all over both hands. They were in his bed, though, so he just wiped everything off on the sheets until he could get a grip on Soonyoung's thigh. Then he settled in and got to work.
He took his time. Research had informed him you had to wait to penetrate, touching his entrance until everything eased, and then you could just slip inside. Jihoon circled Soonyoung's rim to spread the lube around. He'd trimmed his nails for this, then taken a file to their sharp edges and corners. Research always paid off.
One finger proved unsatisfactory. Soonyoung got impatient, as he often did. First he was just sighing, annoyed. Eventually he knocked his heel into Jihoon's shoulder.
“Come on.”
“Be patient. It's worth it.” Even if he'd never been able to get himself off via fingering, he knew that much.
Soonyoung pouted, but he waited. When Jihoon slipped another finger in, he laughed.
Jihoon did not avoid his prostate.
“Jihoonie,” Soonyoung gasped, twisting like a cat rolling in long grass.
“Yeah?”
There wasn't anything that came after that, though. Just sighs that bloomed into moans before skipping up into laughter; just the roll of his body meeting Jihoon's hand, as if he already knew how to let himself feel this.
Maybe he did. Jihoon had forgotten to ask him how experienced he was.
(He had to admit he liked the idea of him practicing: Soonyoung in the shower, one hand braced on the wall, his mirthful voice echoing.)
Opening him up was easy: It had never been difficult for Jihoon to convince Soonyoung of anything. Time raced ahead and Soonyoung was loose and easy; Jihoon was opening up a condom and slicking himself over with lube.
Jihoon pressed forward and Soonyoung—
Despite his fears, Soonyoung just took him. Total acceptance. Fascinated, Jihoon watched his cock disappear into Soonyoung's body. He shouldn't be so surprised; he knew how anal sex worked — had already welcomed Soonyoung inside himself — and he knew how fine Soonyoung's control over his body was. Seeing it was something else.
Jihoon didn't want to miss anything. If they were ever going to get truly good at having sex with each other, he had to know as much as possible about Soonyoung's preferences.
He was so caught up in watching he hardly paid any attention to how it felt for him and got blindsided by the first true thrust.
He'd fucked his own fist before. Obviously. He'd done it yesterday, to practice. It had felt foolish, since the angle was all wrong, and he'd briefly considered buying a stroker before realizing he'd still have to hold it.
It wouldn't have helped.
Soonyoung felt so good. He knew it, too, his smile curled up to one side with pride at whatever face Jihoon was making. He met each thrust, and looked playfully up from under his brows. He drew Jihoon closer; he caged Jihoon in the bent coils of his arms and legs, trapping them together. Spider, Jihoon thought, and felt unbearably fond.
The longer it went on, the more Soonyoung luxuriated in being fucked, his body rolling, sounds pouring from his lips.
“I guess you're sensitive here, too,” Jihoon said, just to be a dick.
Soonyoung caught him by the ass and pulled him in hard, his face spread into a smile so feral it was nearly a snarl. “Do something about it.”
Jihoon sat up on his knees, held tight to Soonyoung's hips, and picked up the pace.
Soonyoung let out a sharp sound that flattened into a groan.
“Yes, yes, fuck—” he laughed, breathless and free. “Thank you.”
Jihoon wasn't sure he understood any of that flowery talk about becoming one. Soonyoung played a part, Jihoon played his own, and they were different. Soonyoung tilted to meet him, keeping him deep inside, and Jihoon delivered what was asked for. They didn't melt into a single, united focus; they made harmony.
Soonyoung's moans crescendoed. Unlike Jihoon, he was perfectly capable of coming without jerking off. His head snapped back, his body clenched so tight that Jihoon didn't dare try to fuck him through it. His wet, dripping dick got a lot wetter. In the final, shivering wave, Soonyoung spurted up to his breastbone, right in the dip between his hard, flat pecs.
His cleavage, if you wanted to think of it that way.
“Keep going, keep going,” Soonyoung panted, hands sliding down from Jihoon's hips for a fuller handful. He liked Jihoon's ass like this, too, evidently.
Jihoon wasn't sure about that. He slowed down, and even that gentle thrust made Soonyoung hiss and tighten, nails biting into Jihoon's skin.
It was a lot to ask someone to manage, and experience bottoming could never help Jihoon last longer when he was the one topping. Soonyoung felt so, so fucking good. Jihoon would have to be superhuman to resist the perfect, welcoming heat of him. He buried himself in deep and watched Soonyoung's cock twitch each time he clenched around Jihoon.
Like he was still starving for more.
Apologetic, Jihoon did his best to fuck Soonyoung through the aftershocks. He'd keep going as long as he physically could. It netted him a frantic Soonyoung tapping his shoulder, as if moving anything but his hands was too much. “Stopstopstop.”
He was trembling like he had when Jihoon blew him, long shivers that slid down his body every few seconds. His cheeks were flushed bright, his eyes dark and happy.
“Did you come again?”
Soonyoung shook his head, still catching his breath. “Nah.”
“Sorry.”
“It's okay, it was a long shot. It still felt good.”
Jihoon translated that slowly: Soonyoung had never done that before, but he trusted Jihoon enough to try.
It was the kind of thing that made him feel small, like a mouse huddled in a great clocktower, wholly overcome by the tolling of the bells. And it was the kind of feeling he was wary to tell Soonyoung of, because he would enjoy having caused it far too much.
Soonyoung stretched his leg out all the way down to his toe, his muscles shivering. He swiveled his foot, searching. There was a deep, muted crack. Jihoon winced, just from the fact that he knew it was Soonyoung’s hip.
“That was a good one!” Soonyoung exclaimed. He looked to Jihoon, already grinning.
“I keep telling you to get that looked at.”
“Nah, it’s fine. It's fine if it doesn't hurt.”
“That’s for knees. That's for Wonwoo's knees!”
Soonyoung made a dismissive series of noises.
“I’m gonna keep telling you.”
He made another series of noises and waved a hand vaguely through the air. Jihoon caught it. They played at holding hands, fingers slip-sliding through. Jihoon wasn't sure if Soonyoung was trying to play the exact same sort of expanded-thumb-war that he was, but it was clear they were both doing their level best to be absolutely annoying.
When Jihoon clasped Soonyoung's hand, though, Soonyoung held his back.
Jihoon closed his eyes and listened to their breath steady. It was not unlike lying next to him in the practice room, overcome by choreography. The similarities charmed him.
Eventually, Jihoon squeezed his hand tight— just in case he’d actually dozed off. “Kwon Soonyoung.”
“Mm?”
“Are you hungry?”
Soonyoung heaved out a deep sigh, “Starving.”
Jihoon was determined to pay for their post-coital feast. He wasn't entirely sure why, but he knew he very much wanted to do it. That was enough.
There was a room in the back of this place — one of the reasons Soonyoung liked it — and they were able to eat very comfortably once all the food arrived. It was impossible to be bad at sharing in a group like Seventeen— not if you wanted any semblance of group cohesion at all. They were rarely selfish, and they remembered each other's particular desires, and Jihoon gave Soonyoung first pick of the kimchi since he knew Soonyoung cared far more than he did. It was only polite.
They didn't talk while they ate, because Soonyoung had good taste in at least some restaurants. Off the top of his head, Jihoon couldn't tell you how many calories sex burned. It felt similar to performing; a small amount of time that lasted forever and was over in an instant, all your energy suddenly depleted.
The eating pace had just begun to slow down when Soonyoung said, “I’ve been thinking. Does all of this mean we're like— dating?”
Jihoon kept eating. He'd saved some beef for his final bites and was enjoying it immensely.
A smile was glowing through Soonyoung’s voice. “Are you my boyfriend?”
Jihoon made a vague gesture with his chopsticks. “Semantics.”
Soonyoung laughed. He leaned over his food once more. “You're a good boyfriend, Jihoonie.”
Jihoon looked up at him.
Soonyoung scraped rice into the remains of his soup, his mouth twisted into a thoughtful pout. It reminded Jihoon of kissing him, and sucking each other's cocks, and the drum of his fingers on the top of Jihoon's thigh as he hummed along to Naruto's opening song. They'd probably sleep in the same bed tonight; it was what they often did if either of them had a drink with dinner. They'd probably kiss goodnight, and maybe have sex again tomorrow morning. They'd have to rock, paper, scissors over who got to fuck who. Or, more accurately, who did all the work and who got to be lazy, which didn't correlate very much at all to who fucked who.
Jihoon had no complaints.
“You too, Soonyoung-ah.”