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The studio lights still burned hot even after filming ended.
Jongsu could feel them against the back of his neck as the crowd noise slowly dissolved into backstage chaos — staff members yelling directions, cameras getting wheeled away, contestants hugging each other like they hadn’t spent the last few months tearing each other apart on stage.
And in the middle of all of it stood Haon.
Winner.
The oversized check in his hands was almost ridiculous against his slim frame, reporters and cameras swarming him from every angle while producers clapped him on the back like they’d discovered him themselves.
Jongsu lingered near the edge of it all, thumbs hooked into the pockets of his hoodie as he watched Haon laugh at something one of the judges said.
Second place.
The words sat weirdly in his chest.
Not because he thought Haon didn’t deserve it — he did. Fuck, he really did. Jongsu had known from the beginning there was something unfairly magnetic about him. The kind of person people naturally turned toward without even realizing it.
Still, it stung a little.
Maybe more than a little.
Before Jongsu could slip toward the exit, Haon spotted him through the crowd instantly.
His whole face lit up.
Haon shoved the giant check at one of the staff members without a second thought before making his way over, still breathless from adrenaline and too many congratulations.
“You were gonna leave without saying anything?” Haon asked.
Jongsu scoffed softly. “You had like fifty people waiting to congratulate you already.”
Haon laughed, bright and exhausted at the same time, before stepping closer.
“You killed it tonight,” he said quieter this time. Serious now. “I mean it.”
Jongsu looked away first.
“Yeah, well,” he muttered. “You won.”
For a second Haon just stared at him, damp curls falling into his eyes beneath smeared stage makeup.
Then—
“You still coming to dinner after this?”
Jongsu should’ve said no.
Instead he nodded once.
And that was probably his first mistake.
—
By the time they got to the restaurant, the adrenaline from the finale had shifted into something louder and messier.
Music thumped through the private room while bottles crowded every table, conversations bleeding into each other underneath dim neon lighting. Everyone was drunk off relief as much as alcohol.
Jongsu ended up seated at one of the smaller tables near the back with his fellow teammates and producers, far enough away that he had a clear view of Haon without actually being part of the main crowd around him.
Which, honestly, might’ve been worse.
Because every few minutes somebody else pulled Haon into another conversation. Another toast. Another picture.
And then Lee Byung-jae walked in.
Or Vinxen, technically.
The second he entered the room, Haon’s attention snapped toward him immediately.
“There he is!” someone shouted from Haon’s table.
Byung-jae grinned lazily as he shrugged off his jacket, making his way over while people hyped up the finale performance they’d done together earlier that night.
Jongsu looked down at his drink.
Bad idea.
A really bad idea.
Because once he looked back up, Byung-jae had dropped into the seat right beside Haon like he belonged there.
And apparently he did.
The two of them fell into conversation effortlessly — shoulders brushing every few seconds, Haon laughing louder than usual while Byung-jae leaned close enough to say things directly into his ear over the music.
At one point, Byung-jae reached over to fix the collar of Haon’s jacket, fingers lingering for a second too long.
Haon didn’t even react to it.
That part bothered Jongsu the most.
Like he was used to it. Like this was normal.
Someone at Haon’s table wolf-whistled. “You two are actually disgusting.”
Haon just laughed.
Jongsu’s stomach twisted hard enough to make him lose his appetite entirely.
“You okay?”
Jongsu blinked, realizing one of the producers at his table was looking at him.
“Hm?”
“You’ve been staring over there for like ten minutes.”
Immediately, Jongsu looked away from Haon.
“Wasn’t staring,” he muttered before taking a long sip of his drink. “Just tired.”
The dinner dragged on longer than Jongsu wanted it to.
At some point people started splitting into smaller groups, conversations getting louder and sloppier as more bottles appeared on the tables.
Jongsu barely participated anymore.
Every now and then someone tried pulling him into a conversation about the finale or asking what his plans were after the show ended, but his attention kept drifting back toward Haon’s table without permission.
Still laughing.
Still sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Byung-jae.
It irritated him even more because Haon kept looking for him too.
Their eyes would meet across the room for half a second before someone beside Haon said something else and stole his attention again.
Like Jongsu was just another person at the party.
“Hyung.”
Jongsu glanced up tiredly.
Royal44 was staring at him from across the table, mouth twitching like he was trying not to laugh.
“What.”
“You look insane right now.”
Jongsu frowned. “Thanks.”
“No seriously.” Royal leaned forward slightly. “You’ve been glaring at Haon for like twenty minutes.”
“I’m literally not glaring.”
Royal snorted. “You absolutely are.”
Jongsu looked away again, immediately taking another sip of his drink.
Unfortunately that only made Royal grin wider.
“Oh my god,” he said. “You’re jealous.”
Jongsu nearly choked.
“What?”
“Of Vinxen.”
“I am not jealous.”
“Mhm.”
Royal looked completely unconvinced as he glanced toward Haon’s table.
Right on cue, Byung-jae laughed at something Haon said and grabbed lightly at the front of his jacket while Haon smiled back without hesitation.
Jongsu’s expression darkened instantly.
Royal caught it immediately.
“Oh you’re jealous jealous.”
“Shut up.”
“You wanna go over there and sit in Haon’s lap or something?”
Jongsu kicked lightly at Royal’s chair under the table, earning a loud laugh from him.
“Seriously though,” Royal said after a second, voice lowering slightly. “You know people notice this, right?”
Jongsu stiffened.
“Notice what.”
“The way you two act.”
For the first time all night, Jongsu looked genuinely caught off guard.
Royal shrugged casually. “You and Haon have been attached at the hip the entire competition. Everybody kind of already talks about it.”
Jongsu immediately looked toward Haon again before he could stop himself.
And like always—
Haon was already looking back at him.
The eye contact hit hard enough to make Jongsu’s stomach twist.
Even across the room, Haon’s attention locked onto him instantly like it always did. His expression softened for half a second before someone beside him said something, dragging him back into the conversation.
Jongsu looked away first.
“Yeah,” he muttered quietly. “Doesn’t seem like he cares much tonight.”
Royal’s teasing expression faded slightly at that.
Before he could respond, Jongsu abruptly stood from the table.
“Where’re you going?” Royal asked.
“Getting air.”
The hallway outside the private room was colder and quieter, the bass from inside reduced to a dull vibration through the walls.
Jongsu leaned back against the wall with a sigh, dragging a hand through his hair while staring down at his phone without actually reading anything on the screen.
He felt ridiculous.
Actually ridiculous.
Haon wasn’t his boyfriend.
They weren’t together.
Hell, most nights they barely even acted like friends once the clothes came off. They hooked up, slept tangled together for a few hours, then went right back to pretending none of the softer parts existed.
So why did his chest hurt watching somebody else touch him?
The door opened behind him.
“Found you.”
Haon’s voice was quieter now without the music drowning it out.
Jongsu kept his eyes on his phone. “Congratulations.”
Haon stepped closer. “You already said that.”
“Probably not enough.”
A small silence settled between them.
Then—
“Are you avoiding me?”
Jongsu scoffed softly. “You seemed busy.”
That made Haon pause.
Jongsu finally looked up then and immediately regretted it a little.
Haon looked unfairly good tonight. Soft curls falling into his eyes, cheeks warm from alcohol, oversized rings catching the dim hallway light whenever he moved his hands.
And despite being shorter, there was something about the way Haon stepped into people’s space that always made Jongsu feel cornered anyway.
Haon studied him carefully for a second.
Then his expression shifted.
“…You’re upset about Byung-jae.”
Jongsu laughed once under his breath, but there was no humor in it.
“Wow. Took you long enough.”
Haon blinked, clearly surprised by the answer.
“You are jealous.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You literally just—”
“You were all over him the entire night,” Jongsu snapped quietly.
Haon went silent.
Jongsu pushed off the wall, towering over him easily even with the slight sway from alcohol.
“I’m sitting there looking like an idiot while everybody watches you flirt with your old fling all night and you don’t think that’s weird?”
Haon’s brows pulled together slightly. “I wasn’t flirting.”
Jongsu stared at him.
Then he laughed again, sharper this time.
“Right.”
“I’m serious.”
“Mm.” Jongsu nodded slowly, eyes dropping toward the floor for a second before lifting back to Haon again. “So you just let everyone hang off you like that?”
Haon opened his mouth, then paused.
Which honestly irritated Jongsu even more.
Because the hesitation meant Haon genuinely hadn’t thought anything of it.
Meanwhile Jongsu had spent the entire night sitting three tables away trying not to look insane every time Byung-jae touched him.
“You were sitting there practically in his lap,” Jongsu muttered.
“That’s dramatic.”
“You let him fix your clothes.”
“He touched my collar for like two seconds.”
“And?”
Haon blinked. “And what?”
Jongsu scoffed under his breath, looking away again.
God, this was embarrassing.
He could feel Haon staring at him now, piecing everything together little by little, and somehow that felt worse than the jealousy itself.
The hallway fell quiet for a second except for the muffled bass behind the restaurant door.
Then Haon stepped closer.
Too close.
Jongsu’s shoulders tensed automatically as warm fingers slid against the side of his neck, Haon’s hand settling there naturally like it belonged.
The touch was light.
Familiar.
But there was still something possessive hidden underneath it that made heat crawl immediately up Jongsu’s spine.
“You’re really jealous,” Haon said softly.
Jongsu grabbed Haon’s wrist instantly, more instinct than thought, but he didn’t actually pull the hand away.
“I’m not jealous,” he muttered weakly.
Haon’s thumb brushed once beneath his jaw.
“You’ve been glaring at me all night.”
“Maybe you were being annoying all night.”
A small smile tugged at Haon’s mouth then.
Not smug exactly.
More… fond.
Which somehow made Jongsu even more irritated.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because this is the most honest you’ve been in months.”
Jongsu rolled his eyes hard enough to hurt, finally pulling Haon’s hand away from his neck.
“Don’t act like you know me.”
Haon let him move his wrist but stayed right there in his space anyway, gaze dragging slowly over Jongsu’s face like he was trying to read every thought behind it.
“You know I kept looking for you, right?” Haon asked quietly.
Jongsu’s expression faltered for half a second before he looked away again.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“I did.”
The answer came fast enough that Jongsu glanced back down at him immediately.
Haon shrugged slightly.
“Every time something happened tonight, I looked for you first.”
That did something ugly to Jongsu’s chest.
Because Haon sounded sincere.
Completely sincere.
And Jongsu hated how badly he wanted to believe him.
“Then maybe you should’ve acted like it,” he said quietly.
For the first time since coming out into the hallway, Haon stopped teasing completely.
His expression softened.
“I didn’t know it bothered you that much.”
Jongsu laughed softly under his breath, exhausted now more than angry.
“Yeah well.” He looked away again. “Now you do.”
Haon’s expression shifted slightly at the admission.
Then his hand tightened fully around the side of Jongsu’s neck, pulling him down closer without warning.
The movement stole the breath from Jongsu’s lungs instantly.
“So,” Haon murmured, faces suddenly inches apart, “how do I make it up to you?”
Jongsu swallowed hard.
The air between them changed all at once — heavier now, warmer, the argument melting into something dangerously familiar.
Haon’s thumb brushed slowly against his throat while waiting for an answer.
Jongsu’s cheeks warmed slightly before he bit down on his lip, trying and failing to hold Haon’s gaze for more than a few seconds.
“I can think of a few ways,” he muttered quietly.
Haon stared at him for a second too long after that.
Heated. Focused.
Like he was already imagining every single one.
“Oh yeah?” Haon asked softly. “Like what?”
Jongsu stepped closer this time instead of pulling away, large hand sliding against Haon’s waist as he leaned down until their mouths were barely apart.
Close enough to feel Haon’s breath.
“You have to say goodbye first,” Jongsu whispered.
Two minutes later, Haon was making his rounds through the restaurant saying goodbye to everyone.
Except now he refused to let go of Jongsu’s hand.
Not even for a second.
He dragged Jongsu behind him from table to table with lazy confidence, fingers laced together tightly like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Jongsu tried not to think too hard about how warm his face felt every time someone noticed.
By the time they reached Haon’s table again, most people were already getting ready to leave.
Byung-jae looked up from his drink the second he saw them approaching.
More specifically—
The second he saw their hands.
His expression shifted almost immediately.
Subtle.
But there.
“Where’re you going?” he asked, standing from his chair.
Haon barely hesitated.
“I’m taking Jongsu home,” he said simply, lifting their joined hands slightly like emphasis.
Jongsu’s stomach flipped stupidly hard at that.
Byung-jae stared at their hands for a second longer before looking back at Haon.
“Oh,” he said slowly. “Didn’t know you two were together.”
The air changed instantly.
Jongsu felt Haon’s grip tighten slightly around his hand.
Not enough to hurt.
Just enough to ground him.
“We’re not—” Jongsu started automatically.
But Haon cut him off before he could finish.
“Byung-jae,” he said lightly, though there was something firmer underneath it now, “our thing ended a long time ago.”
Byung-jae’s jaw tightened almost invisibly.
“Right,” he muttered.
Haon stepped a little closer to Jongsu then without seeming to realize he was doing it, shoulders brushing against his side.
And suddenly Jongsu understood.
Protective.
Haon was being protective.
“You know how I am with Jongsu,” Haon continued casually, but his eyes stayed fixed on Byung-jae the entire time. “So don’t get weird ideas.”
A quiet silence followed that.
Then Haon smiled slightly.
Soft.
Certain.
“Honestly,” he said, glancing up at Jongsu for half a second, “I’m always gonna pick him anyway.”
Jongsu forgot how to breathe.
Completely.
Beside him, Haon acted like he hadn’t just detonated something directly in his chest.
Byung-jae looked away first.
“Yeah,” he said quietly after a second. “Got it.”
The tension lingered another moment before Haon gave a lazy goodbye wave to the rest of the table and started pulling Jongsu toward the exit again.
Only this time, Jongsu followed immediately.
Now sitting in Haon’s car together, the noise from the restaurant faded into a distant blur outside the windows.
Neither of them moved to start driving.
The tension from earlier still hung thick in the air, only now it felt warmer. Softer.
Haon had barely gotten his seatbelt halfway on before Jongsu suddenly leaned across the center console and grabbed his face, pulling him into a deep kiss.
Haon made a surprised sound against his mouth, eyes widening briefly before he melted into it immediately.
Like he’d been waiting for it.
One of Haon’s hands came up instinctively to the back of Jongsu’s neck while the other gripped lightly at his wrist, kissing him back just as hard.
Messy.
Breathless.
All the frustration from dinner twisting into something heated and desperate.
Jongsu could still taste alcohol on his lips.
Haon could probably feel how fast his heart was beating too.
When they finally pulled apart, neither of them moved very far away.
Jongsu stayed hovering over him, foreheads nearly touching while they both caught their breath.
“Thank you,” Jongsu murmured quietly, lips still brushing Haon’s when he spoke.
Haon looked up at him for a second, expression softening instantly.
“Always,” he whispered back.
Then he leaned in first this time.
The second kiss was slower.
Worse.
Haon’s fingers slid into Jongsu’s hair while Jongsu crowded further across the console, half trapped between wanting to take control and wanting Haon to keep touching him like that.
Minutes passed without either of them caring.
Until—
Knock knock knock.
Both of them froze.
Jongsu pulled back abruptly, breathing hard while Haon groaned under his breath and dropped his forehead against the steering wheel.
“What the fuck,” he muttered.
Jongsu turned toward the window and immediately groaned too.
Royal44 stood outside the car smirking like this was the greatest moment of his life.
Haon rolled the window down slowly.
“What happened?” Jongsu asked, voice still slightly breathless.
“Nothing much,” Royal said casually. “Just saw you two eating each other’s faces and figured I should mention fans are literally coming down the street right now.”
He pointed behind him.
Sure enough, a small group was starting to move toward the restaurant entrance.
Royal looked back at them with a grin that kept growing the longer he stared.
“You two are not subtle, by the way.”
Jongsu immediately leaned back into his seat, face warming.
Haon, meanwhile, looked completely unbothered.
“Thanks,” he said easily.
“No problem.” Royal laughed softly before looking between them again. “And congrats, by the way.”
Haon smiled slightly. “Thanks.”
Royal pointed two fingers at them before stepping away from the car.
“Now get out of here before Dispatch gets a field day with whatever this is.”
“Alright, see you around,” Haon called, lifting a hand lazily through the open window.
“Bye, Royal. Get home safe,” Jongsu added.
Royal grinned as he backed away from the car. “Bye, hyungs.”
The second he disappeared back toward the restaurant, Haon rolled the window back up with a quiet sigh.
“Well,” he muttered, leaning back against the seat, “that was close.”
Jongsu smirked slightly, still turned toward him in the passenger seat. “Yeah.” His eyes dragged slowly over Haon’s face before dipping lower for half a second. “But we should definitely go now.”
Haon laughed softly at the tone immediately.
“So eager,” he teased, one hand finally moving to start the car.
Jongsu hummed.
“No,” he said calmly. “Just horny.”
Then he pointed down toward his lap.
Haon’s hand froze on the ignition.
For a second, complete silence filled the car.
Jongsu watched the exact moment Haon’s expression darkened.
His gaze dropped instantly before he leaned back against the driver’s seat, licking slowly across his lips like he suddenly couldn’t think straight anymore.
“Jesus Christ,” Haon muttered under his breath.
Jongsu only smiled wider.
Haon shook his head once, exhaling hard before finally starting the engine.
“Yeah,” he said, voice rougher now, quieter too. “We should definitely go.”
The second Haon pulled away from the restaurant curb, Jongsu was touching him again.
Not even subtly.
His hand slid onto Haon’s thigh the moment they hit the first red light, fingers squeezing slowly through the black denim of his jeans.
Haon inhaled sharply.
“Jongsu.”
“What?”
“You’re distracting.”
Jongsu smirked faintly and squeezed again, thumb dragging along the inside of Haon’s thigh this time.
“That’s kinda the point.”
Haon shot him a look before turning back toward the road, jaw tight.
Outside, Seoul blurred past in streaks of neon and wet pavement while music played low through the speakers, but inside the car the tension was suffocating.
Every touch felt louder somehow.
Haon’s hand suddenly landed over Jongsu’s, stopping it from moving any higher.
For a second Jongsu thought he was going to push him away.
Instead, Haon intertwined their fingers and pinned Jongsu’s hand against his thigh harder.
“You’re being a brat tonight,” he muttered.
Jongsu almost laughed at the roughness in his voice.
“And whose fault is that?”
Haon’s grip tightened.
Neither of them spoke after that.
But the silence wasn’t calm.
It was heavy.
The kind that made every glance feel dangerous.
At the next red light, Haon finally looked over.
Big mistake.
Because Jongsu was already staring at him.
Hair messy from Haon’s hands earlier, lips swollen from kissing, oversized hoodie slipping enough to expose the line of his collarbone.
Haon visibly swallowed.
Then, very quietly—
“Come here.”
Jongsu was across the center console before the light even changed.
Haon grabbed the side of his neck immediately, pulling him down into another kiss so hard it knocked the breath from Jongsu’s lungs.
Messy.
Desperate.
Haon kissed like he’d been holding himself back for too long, one hand tight on Jongsu’s neck while the other gripped his waist hard enough to keep him balanced over the console.
A horn blared behind them.
Neither moved.
Another honk.
Haon finally pulled back just enough to curse under his breath and hit the gas again while Jongsu laughed breathlessly against his mouth.
“You’re gonna kill us,” Jongsu muttered.
“You started this.”
“And you’re losing.”
Haon shot him a dark look at that before one hand slid back onto Jongsu’s thigh, squeezing hard.
The rest of the drive only got worse.
Jongsu stayed leaned toward him the entire time, fingers brushing Haon’s arm whenever he shifted gears, occasionally leaning over just to kiss the corner of his mouth at stoplights like he couldn’t help himself.
And Haon was unraveling.
Jongsu could see it happening in real time.
The tighter grip on the steering wheel.
The way his breathing kept changing.
The increasingly dangerous looks he kept throwing Jongsu’s way every time he touched him.
By the time Haon pulled into the parking garage of his apartment building, both of them were wrecked.
Haon barely got the car into park before Jongsu grabbed his face again.
Haon groaned softly into the kiss, hands immediately dragging Jongsu fully across the console this time.
“Apartment,” Haon muttered against his lips, sounding completely gone already. “We need to make it upstairs first.”
Jongsu kissed him again anyway.
Harder this time.
Like he couldn’t stop himself.
Haon made a frustrated sound against his mouth as Jongsu climbed halfway over him, one knee pressing awkwardly against the side of the driver’s seat while his hands slid into Haon’s hair.
The confined space only made everything feel hotter.
Closer.
Haon’s hands moved restlessly over Jongsu’s body, gripping at his waist, his hoodie, the back of his neck—like he couldn’t decide where he wanted to hold him most.
“You’re making this impossible,” Haon breathed against his lips.
Jongsu smirked faintly despite how breathless he sounded. “Thought you liked impossible.”
Haon kissed him again before he could keep talking.
Deep enough to shut him up instantly.
Jongsu melted into it with a low sound, fingers tightening in Haon’s curls while Haon pulled him fully into his lap without even thinking about it.
The seat creaked underneath them.
Neither cared.
The kiss turned slower after that.
Messier.
The kind that lingered too long because neither of them wanted to pull away first.
Haon’s lips drifted from Jongsu’s mouth to his jaw for a second, kissing there once before resting his forehead briefly against Jongsu’s throat.
Jongsu’s breathing hitched.
“Haon,” he murmured quietly.
That alone nearly undid him.
Haon laughed weakly against his skin, sounding exhausted and desperate all at once.
“You cannot say my name like that right now.”
Jongsu smiled a little at the reaction before tilting Haon’s face back up toward him.
“Then stop kissing me like that.”
Haon stared at him for a second.
Then his expression darkened all over again.
“Jongsu.”
The warning tone made heat rush straight through him.
Haon’s hands slid firmly onto his hips before squeezing once, grounding both of them for a second.
“We need to go upstairs,” he said slowly, like he was trying to convince himself too.
Jongsu leaned down just enough for their lips to brush again.
“Or what?”
Haon closed his eyes briefly like he was losing patience.
“Or I’m dragging you into the backseat.”
That sent a visible shiver through Jongsu immediately.
Haon noticed.
Of course he did.
A small, dangerous smile tugged at his mouth before he pressed one final kiss to Jongsu’s lips.
“C’mon,” he murmured. “Before I stop being nice.”
The elevator ride upstairs was unbearable.
Not because either of them spoke.
Because they didn’t.
Haon stood beside Jongsu with one hand shoved into his pocket while the other rested low against Jongsu’s back, fingers occasionally flexing against the fabric of his hoodie like he was restraining himself from pulling him closer again.
Jongsu could still feel Haon’s lips on his neck.
Could still taste him.
Every few seconds their eyes met in the reflection of the elevator doors before sliding away again, tension crackling thickly between them.
The second the doors opened onto Haon’s floor, they moved fast.
Haon barely got the apartment unlocked before Jongsu grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him inside with another kiss.
The door slammed shut behind them.
Haon stumbled back a step from the force of it, laughing breathlessly against Jongsu’s mouth before his hands immediately found Jongsu’s waist again.
“Jesus,” he muttered. “You couldn’t wait two seconds?”
“You talk too much.”
“Yeah?” Haon smirked slightly. “You were the one whining in my car.”
Jongsu rolled his eyes but the comeback died the second Haon kissed him again.
Everything after that blurred together.
The apartment lights stayed off except for the dim glow from the kitchen, casting soft shadows across the room while they stumbled deeper inside together.
Jongsu nearly backed Haon into the kitchen counter before Haon switched it at the last second, grabbing his neck and turning them around smoothly until Jongsu’s lower back hit the edge instead.
The shift made Jongsu inhale sharply.
Haon noticed immediately.
A smug little smile appeared on his face.
“There he is,” he murmured softly.
“Shut up.”
“Still bossy tonight.”
Jongsu tried to glare at him but completely ruined it by pulling Haon closer again.
Haon laughed quietly into the kiss before his hands slid underneath the hem of Jongsu’s hoodie, warm against his skin.
That made Jongsu shiver instantly.
Haon paused just enough to notice.
Then his expression softened in that dangerous way it always did when he realized how affected Jongsu actually was.
“You’re really sensitive tonight,” he murmured.
Jongsu’s face warmed immediately. “Maybe because you spent the whole night pissing me off.”
Haon kissed him once, slower this time.
“Worth it?” Jongsu asked quietly against his lips.
Haon looked at him for a second too long before answering.
“Getting this version of you?” he said softly. “Yeah.”
Haon’s gaze lingered on Jongsu for another second before something in his expression shifted again.
Darker this time.
More focused.
The teasing smile faded slowly from Haon’s face as his hands tightened slightly against Jongsu’s waist beneath the hoodie.
“C’mere,” he murmured.
Jongsu didn’t hesitate this time.
He leaned down—and they collided immediately.
The kiss snapped into something hotter within seconds, all lingering jealousy and tension from the night bleeding straight into it.
Haon’s grip shifted instantly, one hand sliding up to the back of Jongsu’s neck, holding him in place like he already knew Jongsu wasn’t going anywhere.
Jongsu exhaled sharply against his mouth, fingers tangling in Haon’s shirt as Haon kissed him deeper, slower only for a second before it turned demanding again.
Haon pulled back just enough to breathe, foreheads brushing.
“Take this off,” he muttered, voice rough, tugging lightly at Jongsu’s sweater.
Jongsu rushed to take off his sweater and pulled a chuckling Haon back into a kiss.
Haon made a low sound against his mouth, immediately pulling him closer, guiding him back against the counter without breaking the kiss for more than a breath.
The sound of Jongsu laughing softly into the kiss only made Haon tighten his grip on him.
“Still talking,” Haon muttered against his lips.
Jongsu smirked faintly. “You started it.”
“That so?”
Haon didn’t give him time to answer properly before kissing him again—slower this time, more controlled, like he was making a point out of it.
His hand stayed firm at Jongsu’s waist, keeping him exactly where he wanted him, while the other slid down, unbuckling Jongsu’s belt.
Haon pushed his hand into Jongsu’s pants and boxers grabbing his dick, he pulled it out and began stroking it, “Mhmm” Jongsu groaned at the touch.
Haon broke the kiss to look down “Fuck, your leaking” he said surprised at how red and wet with precum Jongsu’s dick was.
Haon’s mouth twitched into a smug smile against Jongsu’s skin.
“You that affected by me?” He murmured softly.
Jongsu immediately groaned and shoved lightly at his shoulder. “You’re insufferable.”
Haon only laughed quietly, hand tightening around his dick causing Jongsu to moan out.
“But I’m right.”
Jongsu’s face warmed. “Haon.”
“What?” Haon laughed softly. “You’ve been losing your mind over me all night, haven't you?”
Jongsu groaned in both irritation and pleasure, dropping his forehead briefly against Haon’s shoulder.
“You’re so annoying,” he muttered weakly.
Haon only looked more pleased by that reaction.
He leaned forward to begin sucking at Jongsu’s chest, leaving hickeys in a silent claim.
As much as Jongsu loved having Haon’s attention all over him, he didn’t want him to feel neglected either.
Especially not tonight.
Not after spending hours watching everyone else pull Haon in every direction imaginable.
Haon seemed perfectly content keeping Jongsu flushed and breathless though, clearly enjoying every reaction he pulled from him.
The smug look on his face whenever Jongsu lost composure even slightly was almost unbearable.
“You like this way too much,” Jongsu muttered, still trying to catch his breath.
Haon only smiled against his skin. “Can you blame me?”
Jongsu rolled his eyes softly before finally grabbing Haon by the jaw and pulling him back up into another kiss.
Slower this time.
More intentional.
Haon made a quiet sound of surprise against his mouth before immediately melting into it, bringing both hands to instinctively tighten around Jongsu’s waist.
“You’re not the only one allowed to touch,” Jongsu murmured quietly against his lips.
That made something dark flicker across Haon’s expression almost instantly.
Interested.
Challenging.
“Oh?” Haon asked softly.
Jongsu smirked faintly despite how flushed he still looked.
“Yeah.” He dropped down to his knees surprising Haon, his voice lower now. “My turn.”
Then he jerked Haon’s sweats down, “No boxers, where you planning on this to happen?” Jongsu asked teasingly.
“Maybe” Haon replied.
Jongsu could only roll his eyes in a soft smile.
Looking at Haon, Jongsu licked his lips, then wrapped a hand around his thick cock slowly stroking him.
Haon let out a quiet hiss through his teeth, already tense from the entire drive home and every heated glance before it.
His hand slid into Jongsu’s hair, fingers tightening slightly as he tilted his head back.
“C’mere,” he murmured, voice rougher now.
Jongsu looked up at him for half a second before leaning in slowly, mouth closing around his tip, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on him.
The reaction Haon gave was immediate — sharp inhale, grip tightening, composure slipping little by little the more attention Jongsu gave him.
“Fuck,” Haon muttered under his breath, eyes fixed on him now.
Jongsu smirked faintly at the sound, finally getting to watch Haon unravel for once instead of the other way around.
Jongsu took Haon’s dick till it was at the back of his throat, “uagh, shit” Haon moaned feeling pleasure all the way down to his toes.
He removed one hand from Jongsu’s hair and grabbed his neck, snapping his hips forward, while keeping Jongsu still, he began to face fuck him.
Jongsu gagged violently but Haon kept going, loving the sound of Jongsu struggling to take his dick.
Smack, smack, smack was all you heard as his hips met jongsu’s face, holding him down at one point, dick all in the back of throat, Jongsu slapped on Haon’s thigh, and he was pulled off Haon’s dick with snot and spit connecting to it, sucking in as much air as he could before he was pulled back.
Haon’s thrust only got harder, frustration from earlier finally being released. “Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum, ahhh, you're so good” he moaned.
Haon finally broke apart with a wrecked sound and held Jongsu down one more time as he came down his throat. “Ahhh” he moaned loudly, body convulsing and eyes rolling as the tension drained from his body. He looked almost possessed with the way his veins were bulging against his skin.
Jongsu forced his head back from Haon’s grip, dry heaving as he struggled to swallow Haon’s huge load. He leaned heavily against him for a second, equally breathless, trying to bring back air in his lungs. He looked completely ruined, breathing uneven, chest rising hard, and hair sticking slightly to flushed skin.
Jongsu laughed weakly under his breath despite how exhausted he felt.
“You’re insane,” he muttered hoarsely.
Haon only dragged a shaky hand down his face before looking back at him with a dark, satisfied expression that immediately made Jongsu’s stomach flip again.
“And you still put up with me,” Haon said quietly.
Jongsu rolled his eyes, though there wasn’t much energy behind it anymore.
“Unfortunately.”
“Sorry if I went too hard,” Haon muttered quietly after a moment, fingers absentmindedly rubbing along Jongsu’s side. “I got too caught up in it.”
Jongsu blinked at him before a soft laugh slipped out.
“You’re fine,” he said, still a little breathless. “You know I liked it anyway.”
Haon pulled back just enough to look at him properly, brows lifting slightly.
“Yeah?”
Jongsu immediately groaned at the smug look creeping back onto his face.
“Don’t start acting cocky again.”
“Too late.” Haon grinned tiredly, leaning in to press another quick kiss against his mouth. “You literally admitted it.”
Jongsu rolled his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips ruined the effect completely.
Haon noticed immediately.
“There’s that look again,” he murmured softly.
“What look?”
Haon’s expression softened as he brushed his thumb lightly beneath Jongsu’s jaw.
“The one you only get with me.”
Jongsu just shook his head with a stupid but soft smile on his face.
“Come let’s go clean up,” Haon said, grabbing Jongsu’s hand and pulling him to the bathroom.
Jongsu laughed softly under his breath as he let himself be dragged along.
“You’re weirdly domestic right now.”
Haon glanced back at him with a tired grin. “Shut up.”
“Make me.”
Haon rolled his eyes, but the faint pink creeping back onto his cheeks gave him away immediately.
“Still talking after all that is crazy.”
“You love it.”
Haon’s answering smile was small, but real.
“Unfortunately.”
—
About an hour later, the apartment had gone quiet.
The city lights outside Haon’s bedroom painted soft streaks across the walls while music played low from somewhere near the desk, almost drowned out by the sound of them laughing quietly into another kiss.
They’d been laying there for nearly twenty minutes now without either of them actually trying to sleep.
Jongsu was sprawled half on top of Haon, one arm tucked beneath his pillow while Haon’s fingers lazily traced up and down his back underneath one of his oversized shirts not wearing anything else because it was honestly pointless.
Every few minutes one of them would lean in again like they physically couldn’t stop touching each other tonight.
Mostly Haon.
“You’re clingy after winning,” Jongsu murmured against his lips after another slow kiss.
Haon barely even reacted to the accusation.
“And you’re clingy when you’re jealous.”
Jongsu groaned immediately, burying his face briefly against Haon’s neck.
“Why do you keep bringing that up?”
Haon laughed softly, hands sliding up his back to pull him even closer.
“Because you were cute.”
“I was suffering.”
“Mhm.”
Jongsu lifted his head just enough to glare at him before Haon kissed him again, completely ruining the effect.
Slower this time.
But somehow still intense enough to make Jongsu melt against him instantly.
Haon smiled faintly against his mouth like he noticed every single reaction.
He probably did.
Haon’s gaze lingered on him for a second longer before he spoke again, voice lower now.
“You didn’t really get what you wanted earlier,” he said, thumb brushing lightly at Jongsu’s side.
Jongsu hummed against his shoulder, half-lidded eyes barely opening. “Mhm.”
“So…” Haon tilted his head slightly, watching him carefully. “What are you gonna do about it?”
That got Jongsu to pause.
Just for a second.
Then he looked down at him properly, something softer and more dangerous mixing in his expression.
“…You’re really asking that?” Jongsu murmured.
Haon didn’t answer—just stared back at him, completely unbothered, like he already knew what was coming.
Jongsu exhaled through his nose before shifting positions, sliding back over him again so they were chest to chest.
Haon’s hands immediately found his waist like instinct.
“There you are,” Haon muttered softly, almost satisfied.
Jongsu leaned down, brushing their lips together again—slower this time, less teasing, more certain.
“Stop talking,” he whispered.
Haon let out a quiet laugh against his mouth.
“Make me.”
Jongsu leaned down and they began kissing again, Haon’s hands moved from his hips down to his ass squeezing his cheeks and pulling them apart, “Can I fuck you?” he asked fingers prodding by Jongsu’s hole.
“Please” Jongsu said voice practically begging like.
Haon reached over to his bedside table and grabbed the lube sitting on top.
Squeezing lube on his fingers he starts fingering Jongsu.
“ah” Jongsu slightly moans, loving the feeling of Haon’s thick fingers.
“Just fuck me, I'm ready” Jongsu said begging this time.
Haon was just as needy, so he put some extra lube on his dick making sure it was slick so he didn't hurt Jongsu.
Putting his tip against Jongsu’s hole he asks “Are you ready?”, “Fuck yes” Jongsu responds.
Haon begins sliding into Jongsu both of them moaning at the intrusion. When he was in all the way, he slightly slid his body down so that Jongsu was laying completely against him and spread his legs. Grabbing jongsu’s waist he began thrusting up into him. Jongsu immediately began groaning loving the stretch only Haon’s cock could give him.
“oh fuck” they both moaned at the same time, Haon’s thrust growing faster, till he was pounding Jongsu, Haon took his arm and wrapped it around Jongsu’s waist making sure he didn't go anywhere and slid his hand down holding onto one of Jongsu’s ass cheeks.
“Damn you always feel so fucking good Jongsu” Haon moaned.
Jongsu could only moan in response feeling like his soul was being fucked outta his body after every thrust “ah ah-ah.”
“Are you close baby?” Haon mutters.
“So close, don’t stop” Jongsu groans.
Haon leans up to suck on jongsu neck, and that does it for Jongsu, he starts cumming all on Haon’s stomach moaning out his name, body completely seizing up, feeling Jongsu’s hole tighten around him, Haon cums for a second time that night, filling up another part of Jongsu with sperm.
Haon’s grip on him stayed firm for a moment longer, like he didn’t want the moment to end just yet.
Then slowly, the tension in the room began to fade.
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward.
It was heavy in a different way—warm, spent, real.
Jongsu was still pressed close against him, breathing unevenly as he tried to steady himself, forehead briefly resting near Haon’s collarbone.
Haon exhaled softly, one hand moving lazily up and down Jongsu’s back in a grounding motion now instead of anything teasing.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Just the sound of the city outside the window and their breathing finally slowing down.
Then Haon let out a quiet laugh under his breath.
Jongsu shifted slightly. “What?”
Haon tilted his head to look at him, expression softer now than it had been all night.
“…I knew you were gonna get jealous,” he admitted.
Jongsu blinked at him. “Excuse me?”
Haon hummed, almost amused with himself.
“That’s why I kept looking for you the whole time,” he said. “And why I didn’t stop you earlier.”
Jongsu stared at him for a second, still flushed, still trying to process that.
“So you’re telling me,” he muttered slowly, “you were basically doing all of that on purpose?”
Haon didn’t even pretend to deny it.
“I wanted to see what you’d do,” he said honestly.
That made Jongsu go quiet.
Not angry.
Just… caught.
Haon watched him carefully for a second before his expression softened further.
“And you did exactly what I thought you would,” he added quietly.
Jongsu groaned, dropping his head briefly like he wanted to disappear.
“You’re insane,” he muttered.
Haon smiled faintly, brushing his thumb along Jongsu’s side again.
Then he shrugged slightly.
“Maybe,” he said quietly.
Jongsu glanced up at him.
Haon’s expression didn’t change much, but his voice softened just a little.
“But I’m not sorry.”
That made Jongsu pause.
Not in annoyance this time.
In understanding.
Haon exhaled, eyes dropping for a moment before he spoke again, more honest now than he had been all night.
“I’ve been like this around you for a while,” he admitted. “I just didn’t know if you were actually feeling me… or if I was just imagining it.”
Jongsu blinked slowly.
“…You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
Silence settled between them again, but it felt different now. Less heavy. More exposed.
Jongsu shifted slightly, studying him like he was trying to figure out when exactly this had turned serious.
Then quietly—
“You think I wasn’t feeling it too?”
That made Haon look up immediately.
Jongsu scoffed softly, but there was no bite behind it.
“You were not the only one losing your mind thinking about how the other feels outside of sex,” he muttered.
A small pause.
Then Haon let out a breathy laugh under his nose, almost disbelieving.
“So we’re both idiots,” he said.
“Yeah,” Jongsu replied. “Pretty much.”
That earned a real smile from Haon this time.
The kind that didn’t have any teasing left in it.
Just relief.
He reached out slowly, brushing Jongsu’s hair back from his face with a gentleness that contrasted everything that had just happened between them.
“…So what now?” Haon asked quietly.
Jongsu looked at him for a second.
Then leaned in first this time.
Their kiss was slower than all the ones before.
Different.
Less messy, more certain—like they were finally letting themselves stop pretending.
When they pulled back, just barely, Jongsu rested his forehead against Haon’s.
“We stop acting like it’s nothing,” he said softly.
Haon hummed.
“Yeah?”
Jongsu nodded once.
“And we do this properly.”
That made Haon smile again—small, real, tired in the best way.
“Okay,” he murmured.
Then he kissed him again.