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“God, I'd love to take a ride on that.”
It's all Jeongin has to say to make Hyunjin whip his head around with absolutely no decorum or shame, eyes following Jeongin’s until they land on the motorcycle a few meters from where the pair are seated outside the café, enjoying a quick mid-morning snack and some sunshine before they resume their trek through the streets of Sydney.
Hyunjin's shoulders stiffen as soon as he spots what Jeongin's been locked on since he turned onto the street.
“The bike or the boy?” He giggles, turning back around with a smile.
Jeongin smirks. “Yes.”
Down the street, a light changes color. The distant roar becomes a purr, and the bike begins to slow. The man comes closer, and though Hyunjin seems to have already moved on—much more into his croissant and coffee—Jeongin's eyes don't leave the man or the motorcycle as it creeps toward their table.
And suddenly he can see and hear and feel everything.
Golden skin glittered with freckles of copper and bronze.
Lean muscle wrapped around a petite frame.
The lascivious roar of an engine.
Heat pouring in waves from metal and from flesh.
The blinding glint of sunlight off the sapphire chassis.
A rush of molten lust right down Jeongin’s spine.
It's all one and the same.
Except it's not, because that helmet keeps glancing at Jeongin as the bike and owner finally make their way past. He wants to feel embarrassed about having been caught checking this guy out, but reaction time is a luxury he can't afford, because the stranger… slows down. Signals. Weaves between the cars and comes to a pause at the curb just a meter down the road.
Shiny, hard plastic meets soft, delicate retina. Jeongin can't see anything through the tint, but he knows the man is looking at him. He's looking at him like he's waiting. When Jeongin just stares, the stranger nods once, just a casual twitch of his neck.
Hyunjin seems to have checked back in, and he very helpfully aims the point of his sneaker right at his friend’s shin. The impact makes all the loose screws in Jeongin’s head tighten.
“Do I… do I go with him?”
“Yes, you fucking go with him! When are you ever gonna get this chance again? You’ve got your location shared with me, right? Just text me in an hour or I'm calling the cops,” He instructs, pulling out his phone to snap a picture of the license plate on the motorcycle, just in case.
“Oh, shit. Okay, okay,” Jeongin stutters, scrambling to stand while speed-running his usual pat-down; taking inventory of his wallet, his keys (plastic, just for the weekend), and his phone. When he realizes that he's absolutely about to ditch his best friend and leave him alone in a foreign country to zip around on the back of a shirtless Australian boy’s motorcycle, Jeongin turns and gives Hyunjin the doe-est eyes he can muster.
“I promise, I won't leave your side for the rest of the weekend, I'll even cuddle with you later. Keep yourself busy for half an hour?” He nearly begs.
Looking back at the man is a mistake, because he raises a hand and reaches out, beckoning Jeongin with two fingers.
His capillaries swell and his blood rushes like it’s got someplace to be besides his cheeks and his dick.
“I can keep myself busy all day. Be safe and have fun!” Hyunjin nearly squeals, hiding behind his flapping hands. Jeongin is certain he’s blushing. Hyunjin always was a sucker for a good meet-cute.
Jeongin blows him a kiss before he turns and runs, and before he knows it, he's swinging a leg over the leather seat and centering himself atop the two-wheeled death trap. It feels like he's straddling a wild animal. Something races along his nerves, some twisted mimicry of fear or adrenaline or arousal or excitement. He can't tell which.
The heat between his legs is nothing compared to the heat of the man in front of him. Jeongin goes the respectful route, and settles his hands on the man’s shoulders, only to be met with a shake of a head.
“Down here,” he says, and taps his tummy.
Jeongin goes lightheaded, but he slides his hands down sun-kissed skin and wraps them around the man’s middle, long fingers finding homes in the divots of muscle. He has no choice but to lean into him, and this close, with only one layer of polyester, cotton, and rayon between them, the heat is excruciating. Jeongin burns, and he burns from the inside out.
Warm. His skin is so damn warm.
Pressed so close, Jeongin can’t help but smell the man’s skin: salt, sea, coconut, cherry blossoms. He smells like Amphitrite herself.
“Hold tight, sweetheart.”
His voice is deep, gravely and perfectly in tune with the hum of the bike’s engine.
Jeongin presses his fingers into the man’s skin tighter, hugs him a little closer, and the bike startles to life.
And Jeongin flies.
~~~~
Wind presses against him everywhere. It whips his hair around his face and dries out his throat, and they're not even going fast. Somehow, it's still exhilarating, even if Jeongin has to hide his face in the broad plane of the man’s shoulder. He’s not quite brave enough to look.
It truly does feel like they're flying, though the flow of traffic tells him that they're barely hitting the limit.
The biker's stomach undulates beneath Jeongin’s hands, abdominals clenching and stretching magnificently every time he so much as switches lanes.
They're in a town, but Jeongin can't tell if it's the same one. He hopes it’s not; he doesn’t want this to be over so soon. Now that he’s completely at this stranger’s mercy, the stupidity of what he's done is apparent. If his mother knew he was on the back of a random boy’s motorcycle, she might actually murder him. At the very least, she’d scream so loud that his relatives in Daegu would be able to hear her.
And yet… he can't find it in himself to care.
The pair catch a red light, and though the idling engine is probably not quite dulled enough to hold a successful conversation, Jeongin has a visceral, unyielding need to hear that voice again, so he hollers carefully, not sure how much his own voice can reach through the man’s thick helmet.
“What is your name?” He asks in halting, uncertain English.
“Felix,” The man nearly purrs, accent thick and alluring. Of course the ridiculously sexy, ripped Australian man on the motorcycle that picks up strangers off the street is fucking named Felix, because what other word could hold so much power? “What's yours?”
“Jeongin.”
“One more time?” Felix asks, ducking his head closer to his passenger. Jeongin wonders if it actually helps his hearing or if it's just an instinct.
“Jong-in,” He repeats just a little louder, simplifying it as best he can. He doesn't mind; It's easier for a foreign tongue to wrap around and close enough that it doesn't really bother him, anyway. “Sorry, my English isn't great.”
“Don't apologize. Your English is fine. It's cute.”
Jeongin tells himself that the heat he feels on his cheeks is from Felix’s warm skin. It's not.
The traffic here is backed up; up ahead the lights circle through red to green and back to red, and the pair only moves a few paces before they’re stopped again, but it gives them an extra moment between themselves. The man—Felix—seems to pause for a breath. Thinking.
“Are you Korean?”
“Yes,” Jeongin answers with a pleasantly surprised smile.
Felix's next question might be the most surprising thing to happen to Jeongin all day.
“Do you prefer to speak Korean? Is it easier for you?” He asks, this time in a near-perfect dialect, like he was born and raised smack in the middle of Seoul instead of Sydney.
Jeongin sighs in relief. It wouldn't have been a deal-breaker by any means, but just because he can technically communicate in English doesn't mean that he enjoys it.
“Yes, thank god.”
A hearty chuckle leaks from beneath the helmet.
“Doing alright back there?”
“Perfect.”
“Good. Try to open your eyes. It's even better when you can see everything. And uh…” Felix stammers, the first bit of insecurity Jeongin’s seen from him. It’s incredibly endearing. “You might wanna hang on a little tighter. We’re getting on a real highway in a minute. You can get a little closer if you want,” He offers, and Jeongin wants to chomp at it like a starved dog with a porterhouse.
But his mother raised a gentleman, so very gently, like he’s afraid of looking too eager—which is ridiculous considering he literally hopped on this stranger’s bike without a single word exchanged between the two—Jeongin lets his hips flexors open, and he scoots himself forward, thighs bracketing hips, pelvis to pelvis, nuts to butt, and he would swear he feels a tremor run down Felix’s back. The chances of him surviving this spontaneous ride are dwindling, and fast.
A surprised squeal eeks its way out of Jeongin’s mouth when Felix pops the clutch, and the light above them flicks over to green just a fraction of a second before the motorcycle lurches forward. And just like that, they’re flying again.
In only a few sharp turns, city streets become highway asphalt, and with next-to-no barriers, Felix rides swiftly and comfortably. The way he handles the sheer power between his legs is disgustingly arousing, how he orchestrates dips and twists with practiced ease. It's graceful, but it's so much more than that. It reminds Jeongin of how Hyunjin dances. Fluid, confident, passionate.
Sensual.
There's so much to feel, so much all around him, his senses have to heighten to catch up. He's never felt anything like this.
As much as Jeongin could die happy right here, face buried in warm, soft skin with a hard body against his, he remembers Felix’s words. It takes more than a few tries to push past the sharp sting of wind against his sensitive face, but he manages, popping his head up over Felix's shoulder and slowly, cautiously, he opens his eyes.
Jeongin has always said that he would never step a single toe on Australian soil. He's clumsy enough in Korea, without trees that sting you and spiders the size of dinner plates and pythons as long as he is tall. Australia has always seemed like his own personal hell. He won't go, he'll never go, and that's that.
But here, now, with the wind in his hair and the sun on his skin and the hot metal between his knees and the smell of the ocean in his nostrils and what seems like an endless stretch of highway in front of him—not to mention a pretty, solid body against his—Jeongin doesn't understand what he was ever afraid of.
This is paradise, everything he never even knew he wanted. He's not sure if he can ever be truly happy in Korea again, knowing that he's missing out on the pure magic of Australia.
Or maybe the magic is simply Felix.
It doesn't take long to learn how to properly ride the bike. Before he knows it, Jeongin's taking cues from Felix—reading his body like the most beautifully intricate braille—relaxing when they dip into curves and shifting his weight backwards when Felix brakes. He figures out when to dig his fingers into Felix's abs and brace himself and when to let his joints go loose and simply feel.
At one point, Felix hits the gas with a little too much gusto and the front tire separates from scalding asphalt for just a fraction of a second before crashing back down, and all the air is punched from Jeongin's lungs. It's terrifying and thrilling and he lets out a shocked bark of laughter before he can even think of clenching his teeth and swallowing it back down.
The response Felix gives is a low, throaty chuckle that turns into something airy after Jeongin flexes his fingers against his stomach.
After a lifetime or a split second—whichever is longer—the wind softens, the speed dies a bit, the roar quiets and buildings appear again. Jeongin pivots his head left and right, shocked and wonderfully surprised when he sees more shop signs and advertisements in Korean than he does in English.
Felix rides with purpose now, following the road like its second nature until he pulls into the parking lot for what looks to be a quaint little ice cream parlor. Staying centered and balanced is significantly harder the slower their speed, so Felix abandons one of his handlebars to reach back and set a steadying palm on Jeongin's knee as he walks the bike into a spot and pushes down the kickstand.
It should have been just that, a simple, friendly protective touch, except Jeongin's jean shorts have ridden up over the course of the ride, and Felix’s hand settles directly on soft skin. Jeongin does his best not to overthink how little Felix's hands are, how dainty and elegant, how gently they press into his flesh, how nice it feels to have someone touch him where few men have before. He's been in a bit of a dry spell lately, and he can't do much to inhibit the tingles that start at four little pinpoints and soon spread through his entire torso. Jeongin's not sure he'd want to stop it, anyway.
He sits obediently still as Felix dismounts the bike, and once he's standing, Jeongin can see that they're just about the same height, close to the same build, too. He’s about to ask Felix how old he is when the man pulls off his helmet, and his words lose any chance they had at seeing life.
Felix shakes his head once the helmet’s gone, but it's too jerky, too uncoordinated to try to be sexy, not at all like the femme fatales do in the movies. No, he's just trying to reorient himself, or fluff his hair, or whatever reason people shake their heads when they take off their helmets, Jeongin isn't completely sure. Not that he really cares, either. He's far too busy watching the small trails of sweat that glisten along Felix's chest, tracing his eyes up to his face, and—
Holy shit.
Freckles brush his face in layers, a beautiful marbling of little sunspots that reach all the way back to his ears, and his hair falls to his shoulders in waves of white gold that shimmer and glitter when they catch the sun. Jeongin can't look away as Felix expertly gathers it all up in one hand, twists it into a perfectly disheveled bun at the crown of his head and secures it with the black ponytail he slides off his wrist. It's mesmerizing to watch.
His eyes haven't left Jeongin since he got off the bike, and now he looks at him, truly looks at him, and he smiles.
Jeongin's breath gets cut off and it makes an ugly noise when it gets trapped in his lungs. He can't even be embarrassed about it because Felix hears it, and he giggles and those freckles dusting his face turn two shades redder. He's blushing.
“Do I have something on my face?” He asks with a chuckle.
Just stars, Jeongin thinks. Constellations. Entire galaxies. The meaning of life.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jeongin hears Hyunjin hissing at him to say or do something, anything, and as unwelcome as his visitor is, he does get the blood flowing back to his brain.
“Sorry. No, there’s nothing on your face, you’re just…” He blows out a forceful breath, “Really fucking pretty.”
“That’s rich, coming from you.”
“And what exactly does that mean?”
Felix leans in and smirks. “It means that I don’t let just anyone hop on the bike for a spin. Come on,” He says, offering a hand to help Jeongin off the bike, holding it steady with the other. To his pleasant surprise, Felix doesn’t drop his hand once his feet are back on solid ground, but he does twist their fingers together as he leads him into the cozy shop, hands gently swinging between them.
The air inside is just short of frigid, and it nearly makes the damp sweat on Jeongin’s neck ice over.
“Aren't you about to freeze to death?” He asks when he sees the adorable little goosebumps pop up along Felix's arms.
“Nah, it's just surface-cold. I run a few degrees warm, especially when I'm out in the sun. I'll be okay, but you're sweet to worry,” He assures with another soft smile and god, even his teeth are perfect. Jeongin’s about to embarrass himself by asking Felix if he's ever had orthodontic work done when the smell hits him.
Sweet. Creamy. Earthy. Jeongin barely manages to keep from squealing in delight when he realizes what exactly he's smelling, but he does rock up on his tippy toes a few times, clutching Felix's arm happily.
“Is this a bingsu shop?”
Felix smiles almost shyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand like he’s embarrassed.
“I don’t know how long you’ve been in Australia, but a taste of home is never a bad thing, and this is the best bingsu in Sydney. What do you like?”
“Injeolmi,” Jeongin answers immediately, and Felix gives him a playful eyeroll.
“That’s such a boring answer,” he teases.
“It’s not boring, it’s classic! What do you like, strawberry?”
Felix’s cute little bun jiggles when he whips his head around in mock horror. “And what's wrong with strawberry?”
He's so cute. Fuck, he's so cute. Jeongin feels his face flush and he has to break eye contact or he'll melt into a puddle right there. He never answers the question.
Felix orders for them both—Jeongin caves and asks for lychee and Felix doesn't back down from a challenge, so he orders matcha—and he's got his phone out to pay before Jeongin can even reach for his wallet.
“Felix!” He scolds, but his cheeks burn as he does. They blaze especially warm when Felix smiles fondly at him, throwing in a giggle for good measure.
“I brought you here. I pay,” He says simply, and Jeongin pouts but he can't keep the smile away when the lady behind the counter hands him a little cardboard bowl of shaved ice topped with a pretty pink syrup that smells like fruit and flowers. It smells like home, if a little too tropical.
“There's benches outside,” Felix says, nodding toward the door once he has his own bowl, and as much as Jeongin doesn't want to admit this, he grimaces.
“Wait, I have to pee,” He announces very bluntly, not a single granule of sugar in that coating, but the moment of mortification is worth it when Felix flashes that fucking smile again. Jeongin finds he doesn't hate being laughed at when it's Felix giggling at him. He wonders for a second if he should try to unpack that at some point.
“Bathrooms are in the back. I'll wait outside for you.”
Jeongin hands him over his bingsu, taking note once again of just how little Felix’s hands are. Short, blunt fingers stretch to their limit around the one cup, and cuteness aggression surges through Jeongin. He could probably hold three of the bowls in a single hand and not even have to focus.
To say he watches Felix walk away is an understatement. It’s more accurate to say that the whites of his eyes dry out because he refuses to blink, refuses to miss a single second of the way that flawless honeyed skin kisses every muscle in Felix's body as he moves. His jeans sit impossibly low on his hips, which hitch up and down, back and forth, in the lewdest way with every step. Two sweet little divots are carved out just above the denim, dimples strategically placed on either side of Felix's spine just to taunt. Jeongin wants to fill them with soju and get drunk off of Felix's body.
Maybe he could do that without the soju.
After he does his business, washes his hands, and splashes his face, in that order, Jeongin leans against the bathroom door, taking a moment to pull out his phone and text Hyunjin.
iyennie:
he’s fucking gorgeous, hyunnie
hyunjinnie:
you little shit, it’s been almost an hour and a half
iyennie:
has it really? I couldn't even tell
hyunjinnie:
i was about to call the cops
iyennie:
you were not
hyunjinnie:
i was actually almost considering it
did you get a chance to talk to him at all?
iyennie:
yea, a little
his name is felix 🥵
he’s korean like he SPEAKS korean
and he’s so fucking hot
iyennie:
we rode around for a bit and he brought me to a bingsu shop!
hyunjinnie:
oh, he’s SMOOTH smooth
iyennie:
are you doing anything fun?
hyunjinnie:
i took a tour of the opera house and one of the workers there recommended this little pub called Bang’s
so i’m sitting down to eat now and then idk, i’m just gonna wander around for a bit
you should see this bartender
he’s so fucking caked up, it’s actually disgusting
i want to chew on his ass, is that weird?
iyennie:
not for you
it’s no secret that you like a fat, juicy ass
hyunjinnie:
*sigh* i do…
iyennie:
are you mad at me?
hyunjinnie:
are you kidding, of course not!
you pulled an irl Lizzie McGuire
iyennie:
I don't know what that means
hyunjinnie:
of course you don’t
whatever, go play with your hot australian beefcake and leave me to enjoy my meal
iyennie:
the food or the bartender?
hyunjinnie:
the food’s not out yet 😉
iyennie:
lol
When Jeongin walks back into the sunshine outside—pointedly dodging the amused look from the lady behind the counter who absolutely saw him checking out Felix’s ass earlier, oops—Felix is sitting at a little wooden picnic table around the corner, groveling to whoever he’s on the phone with. Jeongin doesn't miss the fact that Felix smiles sweetly at him when they make eye contact, like he's been waiting for him to come back. Like they're something to each besides strangers, besides a notch carved in a bedpost, besides an image caught in time.
“I’m so sorry, Chris. Something came up. I mean…” Felix blushes and darts his eyes to and away from Jeongin so quickly, he almost doesn't catch it. “If I'm lucky.”
Oh. Felix must be talking about him.
”We’ll do something after work tomorrow, yeah? We can go out, and I’ll have a beer with you, I'll even pay! Okay, so then what’s your big bitch? Sounds like we both found someone to keep us occupied tonight.”
The words aren't English or Korean, but a bastardized version of them both. Felix switches back and forth between the languages effortlessly, and whoever’s on the other side must be doing the same. The speed at which his brain has to process information is entertaining to say the least, and downright fascinating at best. Jeongin needs two business days and a dictionary to sift through Jisung's words sometimes, and he's not nearly as competent with his second language as Felix is with his.
For a second, and only a split second, Jeongin lets himself think about how skilled that mouth must be to be able to form so many syllables and sounds at such a rapid pace. His tongue must be agile and strong, nimble and—
Shit. He's looking at Jeongin, call over and phone safely tucked away. The fact that he put his phone away and not just down is not lost on Jeongin. It means he's interested, invested, he actually wants to talk. Jeongin smiles as he walks over and carefully folds himself into the bench on the other side of the table.
Felix has produced a crisp white denim vest from seemingly out of nowhere, and somehow he’s sexier when he’s wearing more clothing. Yes, Jeongin is annoyed about it, and no, he’s not sure why.
The vest is doing the bare minimum in terms of being an actual article of clothing; it hangs wide open and the sleeves are gone, edges frayed and fuzzy where the seams should be. It can't possibly offer much in terms of warmth or protection from the sun, but it can drive Jeongin just a little crazy when he sees the edges catch on Felix's nipples. They're so small, god, everything on Felix is sweet and dainty and little and adorable.
“Who was on the phone?” He asks to fill the space, like he has any right to wonder. Thankfully, Felix doesn't tell him to stay in his lane, but instead huffs out a chuckle.
“My best friend, Chris. We were supposed to hang out tonight, but I figured I'd call him and let him know that I might not make it.”
“Is he mad? I don't want to ruin your plans.”
“He's not mad, he just likes to give me shit. He says there's some smoking hot guy at work making eyes at him, so I'm sure they'll end up going home together. Don't worry, he's not gonna be bored without me.”
Jeongin nods, and Felix scoops a bite of his bingsu into his mouth. A second later, his face twists into something unpleasant.
“Not a matcha fan?” Jeongin giggles, only to make a similar face a moment later when he takes the first bite of his own treat.
“Apparently not. Lychee not doing it for you?”
“It's… fine,” Jeongin insists. He doesn't want to insult Felix by criticizing what he didn't pay for, but the lychee is too strong, too floral, like he's been licking potpourri.
Felix must not buy it, because he reaches over, biceps stretching in a way that just borders on lewd, and helps himself to a scoop of Jeongin’s bingsu. The moan he lets out when it melts on his tongue makes Jeongin’s cock throb.
“Oh my god, that's so good! Here,” he says before dipping that same spoon into his own cup, and offers it to Jeongin.
Jeongin leads with his tongue, and there's no way in hell he misses the instant Felix freezes when he sees how impressive his tongue truly is. He hopes Felix is also thinking horny thoughts right now. The bottom of the spoon is cold when he flattens his tongue against it, right where Felix’s had been.
“Fuck off, yours is way better!” He laughs behind his hand as he licks the sticky bean paste off his teeth. His braces could never.
“Tradesies,” Felix offers, but he doesn't wait for an answer before switching their cups and diving back in. He's such a gentleman. There's not a doubt in Jeongin’s mind that Felix was written by a woman, probably several.
“Thanks,” he mutters shyly, one hand coming up to tug on his ear. He doesn't ever notice he's doing it, usually only becoming aware when Hyunjin pulls his hand away. What is he so nervous about? Yeah, Felix is hot as balls with a panty-dropping sense of confidence, but Jeongin's not a rookie. He fixes his eyes and slips into a sweet smile. “So, Felix, what do you do when you're not giving free motorcycle rides to tourists?”
“Who says they're free?
“Well, you also paid for my bingsu, so…”
Sunlight sparkles on enamel when Felix smiles that stunning, knee-buckling smile of his. “Are you asking about hobbies or what I do for work?”
“Both. You know, typical first date questions.”
“Is this a date?”
Whelp. There goes his confidence. He tugs on his ear again and he feels his smile falter just a bit. “I guess not. Sorry.”
“No, no, no, no!” Felix exclaims with wide eyes, “I didn't mean it like that. I'm glad you're asking questions. I want to know more about you, too. I spend a lot of time playing video games, which I know makes me sound like a fucking incel, but I promise, I'm…” He pauses and considers before cracking another blinding smile, “Mostly normal. Chris is a gym bro, so I work out with him every once in a while. I used to do taekwondo, but as I got older, I realized I liked dancing more than fighting. But I can still fight, so if you've got a boyfriend in Korea, I hope he can, too.”
A wet cough tumbles in Jeongin’s throat that leads into a fit of giggles. “No boyfriend, just… Hyunjin,” He says, words slowing down when he realizes just how pathetic that is.
“Is he the guy you were sitting with at the cafe?”
“Yeah, he's my best friend. Finals just ended, so we wanted to celebrate with a weekend away, somewhere neither of us had been.”
“What do you study?”
Ugh, Jeongin dreads this question. Talking about his school makes him feel so holier-than-thou, like he's bragging and asking for praise, but Felix's smile is a little disarming. “I'm a little all over the place right now. I'm majoring in Social Welfare but I'm minoring in Early Education.”
Felix nods. “So you wanna help kids?”
“Yeah, I guess I do.”
“That's very noble of you. I just wait tables.”
“There's nothing wrong with that.”
“Yeah?” Felix asks, like it really matters what Jeongin thinks, like he actually cares. He brings an arm up to lean on, and that's when Jeongin sees the thin, wispy little hairs that wrap around Felix's arm and catch the sun. He lets himself stare for just a second before he locks back into the conversation.
“How old are you?” Felix asks with narrow eyes.
Jeongin does the same just to tease. “How old are you?”
“2000.”
Jeongin nearly snarls. “2001.”
“Ha! Well, then you can call me ‘hyung’,” Felix says with a devilish smile that's just a turn of the screw away from cocky.
“You can call me ‘Innie’. That's what my friends call me.”
“Mine call me Lix. Or Lixie.”
Cute. Just like everything about Felix is cute.
There's a whistle in the wind when the breeze picks up, and it's not until then that Jeongin realizes he's sweating. It's warm when they're not in motion, the sun beating down on them relentlessly. A question slips into his head, and he lets it fly before he can even think about stopping it.
“Are you wearing sunscreen?”
On a list of Unsexiest First Date Questions to Ask, it ranks pretty high. Unfortunately, it's not the stupidest thing he's ever asked on a first date, but it does make Felix furrow his eyebrows and huff out a single chuckle.
“What?”
“It's sunny and you're practically naked and I just wanted to make sure. Sorry.”
The giggle picks up speed and turns into a full-bodied laugh that has Felix clutching his sides. “God, you're fucking cute, you know that?” He gasps between peels of laughter, and Jeongin takes the chance to finish his bingsu before it melts any more. The chill of the shaved ice doesn't do much to quell the burn on his face.
“Laugh all you want, but at least answer the question.”
“Yes, Innie, I'm wearing sunscreen. Not that it matters because the sun will be mostly down before we get back into Sydney, anyway.”
Innie. Innie. Innie. Innie. It revolves in Jeongin’s head, a needle riding the groove of a well-loved record. He needs to know how it tastes on Felix's tongue.
He goes for the less mental option. “Oh, so we're not in Sydney anymore.”
“We're just outside the city, I didn't take you too far. But if you're okay with wasting a whole night of your vacation with me…” He trails off, leaning over to throw their empty bowls into a nearby garbage can and wiping his hands on his shorts. Jeongin fights to keep his eyes from roving over the planes of muscle that slither around Felix's middle as he moves, but he's not sure he wins. “I have something else I’d like to show you. But I get it if you just wanna exchange numbers and get back to Hyunjin. Or we don't have to exchange numbers, if you don't want to, of course, I just thought… I'd really love to spend a little more time with you.”
There it is again. That falter. That little stutter-step. That second-guess that’s got Jeongin so incredibly whipped for this man already. He pulls his phone out to shoot another text to Hyunjin, and then he stands before Felix can spiral any further.
“I’m ready when you are,” he says simply, and Felix smiles again. He also stands and takes a step closer, and even with more than a few centimeters between them, Jeongin can still feel the heat that radiates off his body.
“You're either very brave or very stupid,” Felix says suddenly. His words are just bordering on mean, but his voice has no heat to it.
“Huh?”
“You don't know me, but you just hopped onto my bike like we're old friends. What if I'm a psychopath?” He asks, clearly teasing, and yes, obviously, Jeongin has considered that, but obviously he was willing to take that chance, “What if I'm a maniac and this is all just a trick so I can have my way with you?”
“I hate to break it to you, hyung, but you don't need to pull tricks to have your way with me.”
Something flashes for a split second, something deep in Felix’s eyes that wisps and smokes. It leaves an outline that's shaped a lot like lust, but it’s gone before Jeongin can study it properly.
“Is that so?” He asks, and Jeongin licks his lips before he elaborates. Felix’s eyes follow the muscle as it moves, his mouth parted just enough to show the blunt edges of his front teeth.
“I wouldn't have climbed onto your bike if I wasn't down for an adventure. Isn't that what a vacation is for? Trying new things, taking risks, once-in-a-lifetime opportunities?” He leans in just enough to get Felix's heart racing and drops his voice down low, walking his eyes leisurely down that impossibly tight body. He takes his time, strolls all the way around the block before he brings them back. Felix's eyes are wide black chasms eclipsed by a luxurious chocolate brown that catches every ray single of light and reflects liquid gold back. He's so beautiful, it's surely a sin. “You look like one hell of an adventure to me.”
One of Felix’s little hands comes up to settle right on the seam between Jeongin’s neck and shoulder, and Jeongin has never ached for a kiss so badly in his entire life. He wants Felix to dig those fingers into his arteries and yank, he wants to collide with him so hard they fuse. Jeongin wants and he wants and he wants—
But Felix doesn't give, not yet, he simply toys with the damp hair along the back of Jeongin's neck, runs his thumb nail over the silver chain that disappears beneath his shirt. Jeongin wonders how Felix would react if he knew that the necklace he’s fondling holds a very old, well-loved cross that sits heavy and solid between his pecs, passed down through three generations of Yang men.
“Well, then…” Felix purrs—actually purrs—low and smoky in his throat, “Let’s go have an adventure.”
~~~~
iyennie:
don’t wait up for me, idk if ill be back tonight
im sorry, pls dont hate me
Hyunjin rolls his eyes, but his lips turn up at the corners as he does.
Called it the second he got on that bike.
Jeongin deserves this, he really does. He’s been swamped in schoolwork and so stressed about passing his classes this semester—because if he fails a class then he's failed Jesus and the children, or some shit—that he’s been celibate for nearly a year, and Hyunjin’s heard every single bitch and every single moan about it.
Yeah. Jeongin deserves to get his dick wet. At this point, Hyunjin deserves it.
But then again, he might be a little more annoyed about being left alone if that hot bartender wasn’t running back and forth across the restaurant in that ridiculous white muscle tee and those jeans that hug his hips so tight, it's downright illegal, waiting tables and mixing drinks and shifting tectonic plates with the way his ass jiggles with every step.
Hey, Hyunjin’s on vacation! If he's a little delighted that Jeongin's fucked off for the day and led him here, so what? He’s allowed to be a little selfish.
The second he walked into the restaurant, he zeroed in on that magnificent ass like a heat-seeking missile, and if he specifically chose to sit here at the bar instead of a table so he could enjoy lunch and a front-row show, that’s between him and god. And Jeongin, who’s absolutely going to get an entire play-by-play later. Best friend privileges and all that jazz.
To be fair, he's more than just a man. Hyunjin appreciates the little pub for what it is, not just for the meat behind the bar. The floor’s not dirty, the bar top’s not grimy, and the menu didn't leave a sticky film on his fingers. It's a dive bar in drag, playing into the old trope of ‘greasy neighborhood hole-in-the-wall’ but in reality, it's quite nice; it's well-lit and the music’s not too loud, too old, or too generic, all equally punishable sins in Hyunjin's eyes. There's a good spread of people clustered at the tables, and from what Hyunjin's heard, most of the servers call the guests by name. The people that live here clearly love this place, and it shows. He wishes he could thank the girl at the opera house that recommended it and he makes a mental note to leave a review when he gets back to his computer.
Carefully and painfully slowly, Hyunjin taps his phone with his knuckle to keep the grease on his fingertips off his screen, starting the voice text and dictating a message to his Innie.
“I already told you, I don’t hate you and I’m not mad.”
When the cocktail siren walks past him on his hunt for a specific bottle of liquor, Hyunjin catches a whiff of something that makes his mouth water, and it’s not the fish and chips in front of him. God, the guy even smells good. He can’t remember the last time he felt this feral over a man, let alone a man he doesn’t know.
He speaks to his phone again, a new message to Jeongin.
“Aggi, we have to come back here tomorrow because you need to see this bartender,” He says, voice maybe a little louder than it needs to be, especially considering the man in question is right in front of him now. He keeps his head down as he works, but there's an easy smile on his face, almost shy, and Hyunjin is just a little wary of it; nobody can possibly like their job that much. His cheeks and ears are red, despite it being on the chilly side in the restaurant. But then again, Hyunjin’s been sitting on a stool for an hour while The Man with the Ass has been running back and forth all over the world, so it makes sense that he’s a little winded. He reaches for something tucked away under the bar—coming back with a single slice of lemon—before returning to the cocktail waiting at the other end.
Hyunjin has never been ashamed of his desires, and besides, he’s speaking Korean in Australia; that in itself is a security blanket of sorts, so he doesn't think twice about continuing. “I’m so for real, I feel like a pervy old man because I’m seriously contemplating ordering a fucking cosmo or some other sugary mess just so I can watch his tits jiggle while he shakes it.”
Down the bar, someone makes a noise like a choking animal, and when Hyunjin peeks over, he sees none other than Mr. Dumptruck himself shaking, arms angled to the extreme as he braces himself against the bar, cheeks blazing red, eyes squeezed shut and lips tucked together as he tries to hold in his laughter. An ice cold chill creeps down Hyunjin's spine. That’s impossible, right? They’re in fucking Australia, what are the odds? He sends his message and tries to put the paranoia aside so he can enjoy his lunch, and he actually manages to, but just for a moment.
Until Dimples McGee comes over with a charming smile and a frosty beer in his hand that he slides across the bar top until it nudges Hyunjin’s fingers.
“Oh, thank you, but I’m—”
“This one’s on me, gorgeous. Don’t waste your money on a cocktail you won’t drink just so you can eye-fuck the staff.”
Shit.
Hyunjin freezes, eyes wide and jaw slack. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, shit—”
“Don’t apologize,” The man says in perfect Korean, and Hyunjin just knows he’s bright red from his hairline to his chest, “I can’t decide if you’re cuter when you’re cocky or when you’re flustered. And besides, at least you… tried to be respectful?” He laughs, and Hyunjin’s face blazes even warmer.
But he smiles, and it's genuine, which makes his heart pound. He'd be stupid not to go for it, right? When in Rome and all that.
Why is Jeongin the only one who gets to have a Lizzie McGuire moment?
“Well, I guess since I’ve been ‘outed’... My name is Hyunjin. What time are you off?”
“Not until seven. So,” He says, rifling through the stack of pamphlets Hyunjin has nicked from the opera house, plucking two from the pile and handing them back, “I’d recommend the Secret Garden and the Artery. You know, if you like pretty things. Which I obviously do,” He says, and he’s so fucking smooth with it that Hyunjin’s dick kicks in his jeans. “I drive past the Artery on my way home. I could pick you up there?”
“Yeah, that’d be great. Is it cliché to ask if I can buy you a drink later?”
“I’d like that.”
Hyunjin nods once, and just for something to do, he pulls a single fry off his plate and rips it in half with his canines. “The food is great, by the way.”
The man smiles, a sweet, sultry thing that’s laced with just the right amount of lust, his fingers skimming along Hyunjin’s when he reaches for what’s left of the fry in his hand, which he takes and pops into his mouth with a smirk. A smirk and a fucking wink. “I know. Thanks. I’m Chan.”
~~~~
The temperature drop that comes with the sunset isn't nearly as drastic as Jeongin had imagined it would be. A soft breeze comes in off the ocean in waves, and it tickles his nose like effervescence, but he doesn't find himself shivering at all.
The beach. They've ended up on a beach just as the sky is purpling and the stars start to peek out. Jeongin still doesn't know where exactly he is, or even what time it is—he actually hasn't looked at the time all day. It's easier this way, easier to lose himself in Felix, easier to imagine that this is just his everyday life, that this never has to end and he never has to go back to school or sit through another back-breaking lecture. But the darkening sky is a ticking clock breathing down his neck, reminding him that their time together is almost up. Soon his carriage turns back into a pumpkin, and he's determined to make the most of it.
So when Felix pulls the bike all the way onto the sand and parks it next to an old pier, Jeongin is all too eager for whatever he has planned. This stretch of beach is pretty barren, just a spattering of people here and there laid out on blankets and towels, all eyes up toward the sky. It's about as private as a public beach can get.
There's a compartment beneath the bike seat that Jeongin has possessively claimed as his own, where Felix’s vest must have come from earlier, and now he reaches back in and pulls out a thin, woven blanket edged with tiny tassels.
It's larger than expected when Felix lays it out, easily big enough for two people. Jeongin knows exactly where this is going, slipping off his shoes and socks and digging his feet in the sand when he sits at the very edge. The sand still holds the midday heat, warm and pliable as he digs his toes in. Felix does the same beside him, and when he sits down maybe a little too close, Jeongin certainly isn't going to complain.
“So…” Jeongin begins, brushing off a few stray granules of sand that have already been kicked onto the blanket.
“So?”
“So you picked me up, took me for ice cream, and now we're sitting on a blanket, on the beach, under the stars. Felix, what a romantic you are.”
“I did, I did, and I did. And I am, thank you.”
“Now, why would you bring me all the way out here, where we’re all alone?”
Felix slings an arm over Jeongin’s shoulders, bringing the two just that much closer. He runs the point of his adorable little pixie nose along Jeongin's sharp cheekbone. His breath is warm when it passes over Jeongin's neck, and for a moment, Felix doesn't say or do anything. He just sits with his nose pressed into Jeongin's skin and… inhales? Felix breathes him in and Jeongin can hear the way his tongue moves in his throat, like he’s trying to taste it. “Why do you think?” He whispers. It sinks right past the skin and wraps around every bone in Jeongin's body, squeezing him almost impossibly tight. Jeongin's so wound up, he feels like Felix's voice itself could snap his bones at any moment. He wouldn't mind.
As if on cue, something streaks through the air over the water, whistling loudly and leaving a twisting trail of smoke behind it. Jeongin flinches at the sound, the movement bringing him closer into the cage of Felix's arm, which makes a chuckle build in the man’s throat.
Just as he's about to ask what the fuck that was, a shower of shimmers explodes above him with a sizzling sound. It's followed by another boom and then another and another, the ground shivering beneath their feet from the force they generate. Dazzling streams of sparkles erupt in every color and night turns into day as mortar after mortar is launched into the sky.
Fireworks. Felix didn't bring him here to fuck him in the sand, he brought him here to watch a fireworks show.
Warm. Cute. Sweet. All of Jeongin’s new favorite words.
“Wow,” He lets out a wistful breath as pop after pop of black powder sizzles above.
“Beautiful, huh?”
When he looks over, Felix is already staring at him. Jeongin doesn't miss a single firework, though; he sees each one bright and clear in Felix’s eyes. Sparkly even without the fireworks, now they positively glow. And they don't leave Jeongin's.
“Innie…” He breathes before he leans in. His breath smells like flowers and fruit and this close, in the glittering light of the fireworks, Jeongin can see each individual speck that lays on his face. He’d happily drive himself insane trying to count them all.
“Yeah?”
“Can I kiss you? Please?” Felix asks, begs, his eyes ping-ponging between Jeongin’s eyes and lips and back again, like he can’t quite decide which one he wants to watch more. Desire ripples off him in waves. It almost feels like there’s tiny little vibrations bouncing under his skin where it sits heavy and solid across the back of Jeongin’s neck. Felix wants just as bad as he does.
“I actually might die if you don’t.”
Felix kisses him like the world is ending. Like they’re old lovers coming back after years apart. Like he’s making up for lost time.
Felix kisses Jeongin like he’s starving.
One hand slinks its way into hair while the other comes up to cradle his jaw. All Jeongin can do in response is whimper into Felix’s mouth and clutch at the vest hanging off his body. He needs him closer. He needs to consume him. It’s been too long and Felix’s hands are warm where they press into his scalp and neck and his mouth takes its time mapping out every centimeter of Jeongin’s, tongue skimming over his molars and teeth pulling at his lips and lips wrapping around his tongue. Felix kisses Jeongin like he’s making love to him.
The fireworks don’t stop. They crackle and sizzle and pop in the background, but the blood is rushing through Jeongin’s ears so fast and so loud that he can’t hear anything beside the wet slide of tongues and the occasional click of teeth knocking and the desperate, pathetic whimpers that slip out between them, one set pitched high and the echo much lower.
“Felix… Hyung,” He starts, trying to warn Felix that he’s about one more wet, sloppy kiss away from changing the rating of this little date they’re on, but Felix shushes him, moving his mouth to the hollow of his throat. He doesn’t stop kissing, though. Instead he lays smack after smack to Jeongin’s neck and jaw, each press of his swollen lips leaving a ghost of their combined saliva in its wake.
“Shh… I’ve got you, Innie. Will you let hyung take care of you?”
“Hyung,” he whines. Felix’s lips turn up where they rest against the delicate skin on his neck.
“That’s it, baby.”
That one single word is a knock-out blow, and Jeongin eagerly accepts his fate, letting Felix guide him back onto the blanket with a small but firm hand right in the middle of his chest. Felix follows like he’s afraid to lose that skin-to-skin contact for even a second. He slips a leg between Jeongin’s, keeping a respectful distance from where he needs that friction, and shoves his head back into his damp neck. The kisses continue as he lets his hands roll over Jeongin’s body with an added sense of urgency. Every so often, lips give way to teeth and Felix bites, some harder than others, but there’s no doubt that a cobbled trail of swollen welts is left behind.
“Fuck, hyung. God, you’re fucking good at that. Jesus Christ,” Jeongin curses, shoulders jerking up off the blanket and hips rolling up into Felix’s grip when his hand comes down to grab at Jeongin’s sharp hipbones. His short fingers stretch to caress the curves and dips of Jeongin's waist, and as the hand moves up, it brings his shirt with it. The temperature has finally dropped; Jeongin can tell by the way goosebumps rise over his ribs and chest and his nipples stiffen. Felix props himself up on one elbow, eyes glued to Jeongin’s exposed body as he runs his fingers almost reverently though the hills and valleys on his stomach.
“Beautiful. Jeongin, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He punctuates his sentence by leaning down and slowly pressing his puckered lips to one hard nipple and then the other. The arch that bows Jeongin’s back happens completely on its own, but it presses his chest harder against Felix’s mouth, and he answers by parting those pretty lips and letting his tongue swirl around the bud. His reward is a full-body twitch from Jeongin, which makes Felix huff out a chuckle. The harsh breath against his sensitive chest doesn’t do anything for his self-restraint.
“Felix… Hyung, do you have a condom? Or fuck it,” He curses, twisting his long fingers into Felix’s hair and pulling him away from his chest so their eyes can meet, “Are you clean?”
Jeongin can see the moment his words cut through the haze and make their way to Felix’s brain properly. Surprise, then lust, then grief, then amusement. Jeongin’s not quite sure he understands the sequence, but it’s kind of hard to think right now, so he cuts himself some slack.
“I am, but I’m not gonna fuck you, not right now and definitely not right here.”
“What? Why not? Nobody can see us.”
“Baby, I don’t care if people see us.”
Jeongin throws his head back and groans as his cock throbs in his boxers. “Ugh, you can’t say shit like that to me after telling me you’re not going to fuck me. It’s just plain mean.”
The amusement is clear on Felix’s face, almost mocking. “Have you ever had sex on a beach?”
“Uh… just the drink,” Jeongin chuckles, and Felix shakes his head.
“It’s not nearly as much fun as the movies make it look. Sand gets everywhere. Everywhere.”
“Even—”
“Yes, even with the blanket. And it hurts. Sand will tear your ass up, literally, like being fucked against a cheese grater. And I’d hate for anything bad to happen to this pretty ass of yours,” He says, hand creeping across Jeongin’s hip so he can dig his fingers into the meat of his ass and tug. Jeongin bites his lip and groans at the touch.
“Then…”
Suddenly there’s a solid, warm thigh right against where Jeongin’s dick is straining against his fly. The friction is already delicious, and then Felix aligns their pelvises and rolls his hips. Jeongin hisses and throws his head back, thankful for the cushion of the sand.
“Can you cum like this?”
“With you? Definitely.”
He knows he’s said something right when pink creeps onto Felix’s cheeks. He works his hips against Jeongin’s in tight little circles that make sparks burst all up and down his spine.
“Lix, Lix, you can go harde—ah!” A sharp gasp cuts his words off when Felix immediately changes his rhythm, deepening the drag of body against body, hips boring into Jeongin’s so hard that the two are sure to leave divots in the sand by the time they're done. He listens, he adjusts, and Jeongin rides his high.
He can feel everything. Every time he lets out a gasp, Felix’s hips stutter against his. Every time he moans, Felix’s cock twitches. Every time Jeongin digs his fingertips into Felix’s skin, Felix digs his teeth into his neck.
“Like that, baby?” God, his voice is so low, Jeongin’s not even sure he’s making noise anymore, that his words are even spoken out loud and not just sinking into warm, sweat-slick flesh and using Jeongin’s bones like a superhighway all the way to his skull.
One leg comes up on its own to hook around Felix’s waist, and it makes the pressure so much more intense. “Yes, just like that, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, hyung.”
“Good. All I’ve wanted since you climbed onto my bike this morning is to make you feel good,” Felix groans. He doesn’t take his mouth off of Jeongin’s throat as he speaks, lips dragging over hot flesh and tongue flicking against his Adam's apple, “I want to feel you shake when you come apart in my hands. Want to know what pretty sounds you make when you’re overwhelmed. Want to taste my name on those perfect lips when you make a mess all over yourself.”
Jeongin loses his breath in Felix’s words, spoken so softly yet hanging heavy in the night air between them. Deep beneath his ribs, his heart pounds in time with the heaving breaths he’s forced to take, each one punched back out by another grind of Felix’s dick into his own.
“Felix… Lix, kiss me, please.”
The answer comes not in words, but in hot, kiss-swollen lips landing on his, and the moment they do, the pressure inside him crests, his fingers burrow as deep into Felix’s muscular shoulders as they can without breaking skin, and Jeongin lets out an animalistic whine right into Felix's mouth as he ruins his underwear with what feels like a year’s worth of cum. He’s so wet with it, he can feel it run down the inside of his thighs, warm and thick and sticky and hot, and so fucking much that Jeongin truly believes he cums twice. It’s the only explanation.
Felix gasps against his mouth; he must feel how wet and warm Jeongin is. “That’s it, baby. Cum for me. Show hyung how good you feel.”
“Hyung,” Jeongin sobs, arousal still coiling his nerve endings. He’s done cumming, but Felix isn’t done moving, milking him for all he’s got and then some. Jeongin’s making pathetic little sniffle noises with every grind, sweet sobs of overstimulated pleasure.
“Too much, too much, hyung.”
Instantly, Felix backs off, and Jeongin lowkey regrets saying anything. Felix could have overwhelmed and overworked him until his heart gave out and Jeongin would have let him. He doesn’t cut contact completely—and thank god, because Jeongin might have actually started crying if Felix had stopped touching him outright—but he lets up the pressure on his pelvis just enough and pulls his knee away. Jeongin is still shaking, but Felix holds him tight, presses sweet, intimate little kisses everywhere he can reach; lips land on his mouth, his neck, his forehead, his cheeks. He kisses away the tacky trails that start at the corner of Jeongin’s eyes and lead down past his temples and into his hair.
“I knew you’d sound pretty. Are you okay, baby?”
Jeongin can’t speak. He can only pant hefty breaths and squeeze Felix’s shoulder like he’s sending messages in Morse code. Felix reads them perfectly, leaning down to kiss Jeongin’s pounding heart.
“It’s okay, I’m here. Hyung’s got you. You feel good?”
Hiccups start to die in Jeongin’s throat and his heartbeat starts to slow. He’s still breathless when he speaks, but he can speak, and that’s a win in his book.
“So good, hyung. Fuck. How did you do that?”
At that, Felix leans back up on his elbow, letting Jeongin experience the full force of his charming little smirk. “Dancer’s hips.”
Images flash through Jeongin’s mind like a film reel; agile hips up against his ass, hard and relentless, perfectly angled to have Jeongin crying fat tears of pleasure and wiping any other word from his mind except Hyung. Fingers clutched in sheets and gripping headboards so hard they split and splinter in his hands. Hole opened and stretched and sucking Felix in deeper, deeper, until he’s rearranging Jeongin’s organs and poking through his slim stomach. Felix would make him bulge, Jeongin just knows he would.
He has to shake his head to clear it, otherwise he’ll get hard again and Felix, the gentleman that he is, won’t let it go unhandled, and that’s not what he needs right now. Jeongin needs Felix’s cock in his mouth, he needs to feel the heavy weight on his tongue. He needs to feel Felix slowly sliding into his throat, inch by blazing hot inch until the need to breathe takes a backseat. Until his whole purpose in life is zeroed down to swallowing Felix’s cum, to making him feel just as good as he made him feel. Jeongin needs to choke on it, and he needs it now.
Felix’s eyes go wide with surprised lust when Jeongin sets his hand on his chest and pushes him over to sink into the blanket. It’s mostly just to get at his cock, but he can tell by the look in Felix’s eyes that the show of strength is a shock and a turn-on. Jeongin can be small and timid and shy, but he can be confident and strong and rough when he wants, and right now, it looks like Felix wants. And when Felix wants, Jeongin wants, too.
He crawls between Felix’s legs, pushing them apart with his knee and he finally gets to touch Felix the way he’s been aching to touch him all day. Nails drag long lines up his torso, and he watches as his abs clench and his body shivers and shakes. It’s hypnotizing to see the way the muscles dance beneath his fingers. On the way back down towards Felix’s fly, Jeongin’s hands glide over the faintest little dusting of hairs that lead right down the front of his shorts. His mouth waters.
“Innie, you don’t have to—”
Jeongin’s head snaps up, and as much as it hurts to take his eyes off that tantalizing patch of hair on Felix’s tummy, he needs Felix to know that he does, in fact, need to. “Yes, I do. You might be satisfied with dryhumping, but I’m not. I need to taste you, Felix, I’ve been thinking about it all day. Please can I suck you off, please? I wanna make you feel good, too.”
Felix softens—well, his eyes do, but his dick doesn’t flag where it’s straining against his zipper—and he reaches to run a hand through Jeongin’s hair. “Okay, baby. Suck my cock. Show me what that pretty mouth can do.”
Gladly.
Jeongin maps out Felix’s entire stomach with his mouth, dipping his tongue into the rivers between his abs and nipping at the soft skin. He sucks a few deep bruises into the flesh, one high up on Felix’s ribcage, one even higher on his collarbone, and one much lower, the blood blooming under the skin right beside Felix’s navel. Felix tilts his hips up and grinds against his stomach whenever Jeongin gets a little too intense with his teeth, pretty pinched off moans slipping past his lips and tangling with the smoky trails the fireworks have left behind.
Jeongin pays particular attention to the little happy trail on Felix’s stomach, laying wet, open-mouthed kisses along the strip of hair.
“So fucking sexy,” He mutters against Felix’s warm skin. It’s mostly to himself, but Felix hears, and he perks his head up to look down at him, cocking an eyebrow.
“My happy trail?” He asks, almost like he doesn’t believe him, like the idea of Jeongin being hot for a little bit of body hair is utterly ridiculous.
“Yes, fuck,” He answers, trading his lips for the tip of his nose, dragging it over the wispy hairs. They’re thin and soft and delectable. It makes saliva pool under Jeongin’s tongue. “All the guys in Korea are wannabe idols; they're all lasered to shit. But this,” He punctuates his words by dragging the pointed tip of his tongue up the trail of hair, and it pulls a moan so lewd, so visceral and desperate from Felix’s chest that Jeongin is certain he could capture it between his teeth and rip it to shreds. “Is the hottest fucking thing I’ve seen in a minute. If you tell me you have a bush, I'm actually gonna lose it.”
The smoky confidence that Felix wears like luxury cologne is back. He kicks a foot into Jeongin’s calf. “Why don't you find out for yourself, baby?”
There’s not a second to waste, not a single fuck given to the people still sitting on blankets along the beach, not a care in the world about what they might see or hear if they bothered to look. Jeongin tugs at the white belt strung through the loops on Felix's shorts, metal clinking too loud in his ears. Once it’s gone, he unzips and pulls his shorts and boxers down to mid-thigh, and sure enough, when Felix’s cock springs free, it’s sitting in a very basically trimmed patch of hair, like he grooms it himself and he's not quite sure he's doing it right. Jeongin moans when he sees it, and it makes Felix laugh.
“Really?” He chuckles, but Jeongin doesn’t answer. He’s much too busy.
The hair down here is not at all like the hair on Felix's head, or his stomach. It's deep black and not platinum blonde, curly and coarse and thick. It holds Felix's scent, faint notes of coconut and cherry blossoms, but down here it's stronger, headier, muskier. Like a top-shelf whiskey that’s been aged just right.
Felix is so boy that Jeongin can't help it, he presses his face right into his pubes and inhales as deep as his lungs can stretch, and he’d swear that the smell alone gets him high. If the scent of Felix so intimate and so close doesn’t have Jeongin’s head swimming, then the stuttering gasp that cuts through the still air above him when he laves his long tongue against Felix's balls does. There's sweat trapped here, sprinkled in among the roots, and in theory it's disgusting, but in practice, Jeongin moans like a slut when he runs his mouth along the crease of Felix's groin and comes back with a tongue tingling with the perfect mix of salt and sweet, a taste so tantalizing that no chef, no matter how many Michelin stars they have, could recreate.
“Fuck, why is that so hot?” Felix pants above him, and Jeongin revels in the way his chest heaves as he pants. He’s doing that, he’s making Felix feel so good that he can’t even hold breath in his lungs anymore.
It’s not enough.
It’s nowhere near enough. Jeongin needs Felix to remember him long after his plane leaves. He needs to embed himself into Felix’s cerebral cortex, he needs to live in his mind for the rest of his life.
Felix’s dick is so fucking warm when it finally slips into his mouth, and it seems like an eternity before Jeongin’s got his nose kissing skin. It reaches all the way back past his tonsils, warm and solid and heavy and salty and Jeongin wants to live and die with Felix’s cock stuffed down his throat, it fits so perfectly. There’s just the smallest bit of a painful stretch every time the tip breaches his esophagus, but it hurts better than anything he’s ever felt before. He works his throat, a true master of his craft, swallowing as best he can and rolling the muscles along the back of his tongue so there's not a single inch that's not stimulated in one way or another.
It's still not enough, so Jeongin brings his free hand up to play with Felix's balls, running his fingertips along the seam down the middle and rolling them in his palm.
The response is perfect. Felix groans and whines and he runs his hands over and over through Jeongin’s hair, letting the silky strands slip through the digits. He pushes the bangs back off Jeongin’s forehead so he can see him properly, and the vision of Felix propped up on one elbow, eyes dark with desire, huffing out strained breaths and staring down at where Jeongin’s throat bulges around his impressive cock is a picture that Jeongin wants to burn into the back of his eyelids. He’s so fucking pretty, looking down at him like he’s watching art being made, like Jeongin slobbering on his cock is the most stunning thing he’s ever seen. Felix makes him feel so beautiful, so adored. He never wants to leave.
“You take my cock so fucking good, baby. You’re so pretty like this,” Felix whispers, ghosting his hand over Jeongin’s face, trailing a finger over the spot where his cockhead pokes through Jeongin’s cheek, right where his deep dimple should sit, “Fucking gorgeous, Innie. So good for your hyung.”
Jeongin has been waiting all day to hear those words, but the cadence is what makes them; Felix grunts them out, smoky and husky, and his dick throbs where it’s pressed against Jeongin’s throat.
“I’m gonna cum, okay?” He asks, but only with his words. His hands tell a different story, bunching in Jeongin’s hair right at his brain stem. His hold is solid and even if Jeongin did want to fight against it, he knows there’s no use. Felix is just as strong as he is, probably more. Good thing Jeongin is exactly where he wants to be. “Take it just a little deeper, right there, good boy.” There’s a slow, careful pressure against his skull and Jeongin takes the cue, relaxing his throat to let Felix breach him just a little more. He’s definitely sucked bigger cocks before, but Felix fills him to the brim in just the right way, presses against the backs of his teeth and bullies into his throat and sits heavy on his tongue. It’s bliss down here. “Now stay right there for me. Don’t forget to breathe, baby. I’m gonna cum right down your pretty throat, and you’re gonna swallow it all for your hyung, right?”
The angle’s not right for Jeongin to nod properly, but he knows his eyes are saying everything his mouth can’t right now: I want it. Please. Use me.
So Felix does. He starts to hitch his hips up little by little, fucking gently but with a purpose, right into Jeongin’s mouth. Spit and drool leaks out at the seam where his lips are stretched wide, too wide to contain it, and it slips down between Felix’s thighs. It’s messy, it’s wet, it’s dirty, it’s downright pornographic; it’s the best head Jeongin’s ever given.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, open that throat, take it all, baby, fuck, fuckfuckfuck—” The words cut off with a sharp gasp, followed immediately by a long, high moan of Jeongin’s name. Felix is so far deep in his throat that Jeongin has no choice but to drink down everything Felix gives him, and he doesn’t even have to put in effort; it simply spills down his throat, just like Felix said he would, right into his stomach. Jeongin wants to taste it properly, so when he feels the little twitches of Felix's cock taper off and weaken, he slips off halfway, just enough that he catches that last few drops of cum on his tongue, and god, Felix tastes exactly as delicious as Jeongin knew he would.
While he savors the taste of raw, unfiltered Felix, the man in question just melts back into the sand and tries to catch his breath. Jeongin licks him clean, one long drag of his tongue after another, all the way from bush to tip, and he digs his tongue into the slit just for good measure, just to make sure he hasn't missed a drop. Felix’s knees jerk every time Jeongin's tongue flicks against his head, tightening around Jeongin's ribs for just a second before they relax and fall open, just to dig in again. As happy as Jeongin would be to sit here and just play with Felix’s cock all night, he takes pity and tucks him back into his pants. It’s the least he can do, really, after sucking his soul out. He smirks and wipes the sticky remnants off his lips with the back of his hand just to lick that clean, too.
“When do you go back to Korea?”
Is this Felix’s idea of pillow talk? Jeongin chuckles just once, moderately confused. “What?”
Again, Felix props himself up on one elbow, but he doesn't stay there. He just uses the position to grab at Jeongin’s shirt and tug, pulling him back to the blanket into a bruising, possessive, claiming kiss. There's no way he can't taste his own cum on Jeongin's tongue, but by the way he sucks the muscle into his mouth, it doesn't seem like he hates it. “How long are you gonna be here?” He clarifies, smiling so wide, it nearly splits his face. His voice still has that high pitch, almost giddy, like when you're sleep deprived and suddenly everything is the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. “I know, fuck, I know this is crazy and it's not fair to ask, but I want to spend every free moment with you while you're here.”
Jeongin kisses that smile, slow and soft and sweet. “It’s not crazy,” He whispers when they separate. Separate, but not part, because Felix won’t let Jeongin go that far. He cages him in his arms and rolls them until they’re both on their sides, legs and arms and breaths tangled between them.
“We don’t leave until Wednesday morning. We have time, Lix.”
“Thank god. You’re all mine for the next five days, like it or not.”
“I think I can handle that. Thanks for the ride.”
Felix laughs and kisses him again, and again, and even more, until the sky starts to pink and Jeongin falls into the most peaceful sleep of his life, cradled in Felix’s arms with his breath blowing softly over his neck.
~~~~
“Oh, how fucking nice to see you!”
“Shut up.”
“Yang Jeongin, do you have any idea what time it is?”
The hotel door shuts with a heavy thud behind him, and Jeongin immediately drops in front of his suitcase to start digging for a change of clothes. He needs a shower, a good, thorough tooth brushing, some caffeine, and a meal, in that order.
He should also probably throw away the underwear he’s wearing; it’s been chafing and sticking to every crevice he's got from the waist down since last night. “Not a clue, actually. I haven’t looked at my phone since I last texted you.”
“How romantic, is that why you haven’t answered me at all?” Hyunjin prods, but he’s sitting at a huge vanity in a plush bathrobe, smacking on a smoothie and a plate of golden toast smothered in fresh jam, ricotta cheese and honey, so Jeongin knows he’s simply playing the part. If he’d actually been worried, he wouldn’t be eating right now and he certainly wouldn’t have slept at all last night.
“Sorry, Eomma. How was your night?”
“How was yours?” Hyunjin throws back with a violently curved eyebrow, his eyes latching immediately to the pretty red splotches that litter Jeongin's neck. He doesn't try to cover them or lie or pull his shoulders up to hide them. He wears them proudly. As a matter of fact, he spent the entire elevator ride up to the 8th floor digging his fingers into them, one by one, until his every nerve ending sizzled with Felix.
“It was good.” It’s all Jeongin says, and he does so on purpose, just to taunt. Hyunjin is a gossip at his core and he won’t rest until he’s wrung every last detail from his best friend.
“Is that all you’re gonna give me?”
“What else do you want to know?”
“Oh, maybe—” Hyunjin cuts his words off when Jeongin steps past him onto the balcony. He gives his head an almost violent shake back and forth, not unlike a dog that's been out in the rain, and he can hear the soft tinkling of grains of sand hitting the wood beneath his feet. “Maybe why you’re covered in hickies and have so much fucking sand in your hair? Have you eaten?”
“Not since the bingsu yesterday,” Jeongin answers, slipping back inside but leaving the door cracked to welcome in the refreshing ocean breeze.
Hyunjin offers his plate wordlessly to Jeongin as he passes, and he snatches a slice of toast, stuffing it all into his mouth at once and licking up the leftover honey where it’s already started to drip down his fingers.
“Thank you. He took me to the beach to watch the fireworks.”
“And?”
“And?” Jeongin asks with a shy smile, and he knows his cheeks are already starting to flush as the memories come back to him. Felix’s tight body, his lithe hips, his hefty cock. The feeling of sand between his toes and the smell of coconuts and sweat and the warmth of Felix’s bare skin everywhere. Waking up in Felix's arms, with the sun blazing above as Felix laid soft kisses all over his face, an apology for having to leave him, but he’s got work today. The way his fingers reached out to skim along Jeongin’s waist when he dropped him off downstairs just a few short moments ago. A deep, passionate kiss that left his lungs burning and his thighs clenching, even as Felix promised he’d be back after work. Eight hours without him feels like a lifetime.
“And?”
“And we hooked up and I sucked his dick and fell asleep in his arms, right there on the beach,” He finishes, not even trying to keep the lovesick smile off his face. He’s absolutely gone, he knows he is. Jeongin knows it, Hyunjin knows it, and Jeongin will be damned if Felix doesn’t know it, too.
“Was it incredible?”
“It was magnificent, Felix is magnificent. What about your night? Did anything happen with your caked up bartender?”
“Well, if you’d have given enough of a fuck to read my texts,” Hyunjin snarls, but he smiles when Jeongin rolls his eyes, “You’d know. But nooooo, you had to throw your best friend on the back burner so you could fuck your Australian himbo all night.”
“I didn’t fuck anyone.”
“Ha, loser. I did!” Hyunjin chirps, and it’s followed by a downright maniacal cackle that could only come on the back of a joke that's been planned for a few hours at least. As much as Jeongin wants to grimace, he’s still a man, so he reaches out for a fist bump.
“Very nice, very nice. How was he?”
Like a balloon meeting a needle, Hyunjin deflates rapidly, limbs going loose and melting into the luxurious chair he’s parked in. He’s so quick about it that Jeongin flinches.
“Fucking incredible. I thought I was gonna nut before I even got inside him. Look at me,” He insists, and Jeongin bites back a chuckle, but he does as he’s told, “Jeongin. I ate him out for an hour."
Jeongin wants to eat Felix out, wants to taste every single inch of flesh he wasn’t able to get his mouth on last night. Wants to slip his tongue inside him and suffocate between his thighs. Jeongin wants Felix to crush him, to sit on his face and ride his tongue until there’s not an ounce of liquid left in his body. He wants to watch Felix make a mess all over himself, wants to lick up every last drop that Felix gives him.
Fuck, he needs to jerk off.
“I’m glad you had a good night. I need a shower.”
Hyunjin gives him a salute and turns back to his breakfast and his doom-scrolling.
On the way to the bathroom, Jeongin pauses. It’s not until now that he notices that both beds are unmade, but to varying degrees. The blankets on one have been thrown on the floor and the sheet is close to slipping off completely in the farthest corner. One of the pillows, plush and soft and sheathed in a satin pillowcase has been tossed (or pushed) to the ground; the other is on the bed across the room, which is significantly less torn apart. The blankets are pulled back and the sheets are wrinkled, but it looks like it’s suffered less damage.
“Jinnie?”
Hyunjin hums in response.
“Why are both the beds fucked up?”
Hyunjin doesn’t answer, but he does stop scrolling and sets his phone down. “Listen…” He starts, careful like he’s trying not to spook a feral animal, but it’s too late.
“I most certainly will not listen! Hyung, did you fuck someone in my bed and then sleep in yours?”
“No, of course not! I fucked someone in my bed and then slept in yours.”
“Why?”
Hyunjin simply shrugs and picks his phone back up. “Mine was wet.”
“Oh, my god, I hate you.”
“We both fucked strangers last night, aggi, don’t be salty just because I got to do it in an actual bed,” Hyunjin calls after him. Jeongin doesn’t answer, but he does leave the bathroom door open while he waits for the shower to heat up.
Small purple bruises are sprinkled across his chest and neck, perfect plum lip prints on alabaster skin. In a few spots, deep red semi-circles throb. Felix’s teeth prints. Jeongin ghosts his hands along the welts that make up the bite marks, and he wonders if he can take the pain of a tattoo, because he wants to wear Felix's teeth prints for the rest of his life, a permanent accessory, a beautiful reminder of the most exhilarating person he's ever met.
It's not long before the Jeongin in the mirror goes fuzzy around the edges and all those pretty bumps and bruises lose their detailed luster when the steam rolls in. It's a sign to stop wasting water and get in the shower.
Just as he's reaching for the soap—a silky little bar that smells like cotton and sea salt, that slips between his fingers when he grips it too hard—he hears Hyunjin’s giggle from out in the room.
“Hey!” Hyunjin calls from the bedroom, “Does your little boy toy have plans tonight?”
~~~~
“Well?”
“It's cute.”
“Right? And Channie-hyung’s family owns it!”
“I know, you've told me three ti—no fucking way.”
Hyunjin makes a garbled noise when he's lurched back, his arm tangled with Jeongin's as the pair walk up to Bang’s Tavern. Jeongin has stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes zeroed in on a very familiar blue motorcycle parked off to the side of the building, probably in an employee lot. Jeongin knows exactly how that bike rides over dirt, asphalt and sand. He knows how that motor growls and how the hot metal feels on his skin. And though he's certainly not a motorcycle expert, enthusiast, or even a hobbyist, there's not a doubt in his mind that he could pick it from a dozen or even a thousand blue bikes.
That's Felix's bike.
“No way,” Hyunjin agrees when he spots the bike.
Jeongin shakes his head and laughs. “Absolutely no way. There's gotta be a thousand burger joints in this town, what are the fucking odds?”
Hyunjin holds the door open for him, like a proper hyung, and Jeongin closes his eyes and sighs like a cartoon when he smells the air inside. It smells like smoke and coal and heat and meat. His stomach growls on instinct.
“Oh, my god, it smells good in here.”
“I told you! I like sex, but I like food, too, and I refuse to sacrifice one or the other.”
The vibe inside immediately makes Jeongin feel at home. Yeah, it's loud and crowded and a little overstimulating—Jeongin can hear a grill sizzling, ice cubes clinking against glass, billiard balls colliding with a satisfying clack, some pop punk song on the stereo that he doesn't recognize, and employees hollering orders back and forth, all at once—but it's welcoming and casual and it still smells incredible.
Hyunjin scans the crowd inside like an old school printer; back and forth and back, lips pursing when he doesn't immediately find what he’s looking for. It finds him, though, and Jeongin reacts on instinct, hand reaching out to viciously clamp around the wrist that pops up in his peripheral vision before it can grab a handful of Hyunjin’s ass.
“Get your fucking hands off hi—”
The arm rips itself from Jeongin’s grip so easily, it’s almost insulting. But the guy that owns it takes a step back and raises his hands to show his surrender.
“Aggi, that’s Chan, relax!” Hyunjin laughs.
Chan is… short. Definitely shorter than Hyunjin, maybe even shorter than Jeongin, but he makes up for it in pure muscle. He’s thick, solid, with broad shoulders and bulging biceps, thighs that test the seams of his jeans, a smile that dimples particularly deep on one side, and eyes that fold into little crescents when he smiles. He's admittedly very pretty.
God, what is with the pretty Korean boys in Australia?
He also has the decency to look bashful. He nods mostly to himself, but he doesn't drop his hands, like he's still on trial. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have—”
“No, no,” Hyunjin cuts him off, “You should have, and you still can,” He sings, pivoting just enough to wiggle his ass in Chan’s direction. Chan still has his hands up, and he glances back and forth between Hyunjin’s wagging hips and Jeongin, like he’s waiting for permission.
Jeongin likes him already, so he rolls his eyes and nods, and instantly Chan’s got one hand cupped around Hyunjin’s ass cheek, a sharp slap cutting through the air when they meet. The tendons in his arm dance as he squeezes—hard—and Jeongin doesn't miss the fact that Hyunjin's ass fits into Chan’s hand like they were made for each other.
“Hey, stud,” He purrs into Hyunjin’s ear, and Hyunjin giggles, because of course he does.
“Beautiful,” he answers, like it’s Chan’s name. Chan blushes like it is, too. “Can I kiss you while you’re on the clock, or will it upset all the customers that are hoping you’ll go home with them?”
“To hell with the customers; you can kiss me whenever you want. Besides, they're shit out of luck, anyway. I don't make it habit of fucking the guests.”
“You don't seem to have a problem letting the guests fuck you, though.”
“Only the ones I really like,” Chan smirks.
“Lucky me.”
Thankfully, Hyunjin keeps it short, just a few soft smacks before he pulls back and turns towards Jeongin.
“Channie-hyung, this is Jeongin. Or Innie. Iyennie, this is Chan.”
As expected, Chan has a good handshake, firm and solid but not overpowering, and it doesn’t make Jeongin’s fingers ache when they part.
“Nice to meet you. Hyunjin told me a lot about you,” He says, and the smile on his face looks genuine, like he smiles with his whole heart.
“Wow, I feel like kind of an asshole. I wish I could say the same, but all I’ve heard about you was how back-breaking the sex was.”
“Aggi!” Hyunjin hisses, but Chan throws his head back and howls. People stare. Jeongin fills with pride. Hyunjin rolls his eyes. When Chan rights himself, his eyes are shining with tears and his face is a shade of red that belongs on one of Hyunjin’s palettes, not painted on human flesh.
“Hyunnie was right about you,” He gasps, the color in his face slowly fading. Jeongin waits for an elaboration, but it never comes.
Instead, Chan turns to Hyunjin. “I’m in the kitchen tonight,” He explains with a grimace, and Jeongin sees the effort he puts into making eye contact with both of them, and he decides that he really likes Chan, “But only for another hour. Then we’re free. You guys are gonna wanna sit in one of the booths along the wall,” He says, and he reaches under the host stand for a couple menus, which he hands over and motions them into the dining room.
Jeongin leads, and by the wet slurping smacks he hears fading behind him, he assumes Hyunjin’s taking advantage of the moment alone to give Chan a proper kiss ‘hello’. His suspicion is confirmed when he slides into the opposite side of the booth a full minute after Jeongin, wiping the corners of his mouth and licking his lips. Jeongin peeks over his menu and smirks.
“Slut.”
Hyunjin beams.
Just as Jeongin is skimming the list of beers on tap, a vision in a white t-shirt comes through a swinging door on the back wall of the dining room, and his eyes land on Jeongin without even trying to look anywhere else. When their eyes meet, Felix balks for only a fraction of a second before the look of surprise breaks into the most knee-weakening, panty-dropping smile that has ever been smiled, and Jeongin feels the blood inch up his cheeks. Felix looks so fucking happy to see him, he thinks he could cry about it. He covers his face with his hands and tries to look anywhere but at the angel with the tray on his shoulder, to no avail. His eyes find Felix every time; the Northern Star must live in the galaxy on his cheeks.
Hyunjin clocks it immediately, just by the look Jeongin knows he's wearing. “No shot, he's here, isn't he?” He laughs, twisting in his seat to gawk.
For about the hundred thousandth time in the last 36 hours, Jeongin is almost knocked to the ground by how fucking beautiful Felix is. He's dressed as plain as can be, in the same white tee that every other employee is wearing, printed with the tavern’s compass logo, tucked into the most generic pair of light wash jeans to ever exist. And against all odds, he still manages to be stunning. His long hair is pulled back into some complicated-looking knot with wispy little tendrils pulled out to frame his face and there's—fuck—there’s one little braid hanging down the side of his neck that brushes his shoulder. That braid may as well be the last tendrils of Jeongin’s sanity.
That slick confidence of his shines in this place. It's incredibly arousing to watch Felix speak to his customers, the way he smiles at them, listens intently, laughs at their cheesy jokes, makes faces at kids. At one point, he loses a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors with a 7 year old and comes back a moment later with a milkshake and a straw. Jeongin swears he even sees him wink at the elderly lady sitting alone in the corner. He's everyone's best friend. He's literally fucking sunshine. And Jeongin is… Jeongin is—
“You're staring.”
“I know,” Jeongin quips, but he manages to look back at the man he's actually here with. He promised Hyunjin his attention… Unfortunately, divided attention is the best he'll be able to do.
“You guys are worse than me and Chan!”
“We are not.”
“Ten bucks says he walks over here and tries to stick his tongue down your throat.”
“If there really is a god.”
Now it's Hyunjin's turn to hide his face in his hands, trying his best to muffle his laughter enough to act pissed. “Are you gonna be able to actually sit here and hold a conversation with me without getting distracted?”
“Really? Do you wanna go sit at the bar where you can see Chan working in the kitchen through that little window and see how long it takes you to stop speaking in complete sentences?”
Hyunjin pouts and takes a long look out the window, watching cars and motorcycles and people walking their dogs down the street. After a moment, he sighs. “Man, Innie, how did we get this mixed up with two Australian boys?”
“Cuz we like pretty things and have no survival instincts.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
And then Felix is there, standing tall and proud and towering over the table, his tray tucked under his arm and two frosty beers in his hands, one bright amber that he hands to Hyunjin, and the other smoky and dark, capped with a frothy head that tests the limits of the glass when it’s set down right in front of Jeongin.
“Can’t really do that without a drink,” He says by way of greeting. “Chan told me you like Stella,” He nods to Hyunjin, “And I figured anyone crazy enough to actually enjoy matcha would be good drinking Guiness,” He finishes with a grimace, screwing his face into something that tries to look like disgust, but it breaks almost instantly because Felix just can't seem to stop smiling.
“I know you’re trying to make fun of me—which is rude, by the way—but I do actually like Guiness, so…” Jeongin teases. He sticks his tongue out for good measure.
“Figures. It’s a nice surprise to see you here,” Felix beams and softens his taunting with a hand running gently through Jeongin’s hair, sharp nails scratching softly at his scalp, “Even if you are gonna taste like an ashtray when I kiss you later.”
“So get your fix before I down this pint,” Jeongin barters, batting his eyelashes and ignoring Hyunjin’s choke of embarrassed laughter from across the table.
“Baby,” Felix whines, “Don’t tempt me. I’m on the clock.”
Hyunjin snorts. “Didn’t stop Chan,” He mutters under his breath.
“So I saw,” Felix says with an eye roll, “What are the odds?” He directs to Jeongin, who shakes his head.
“I don’t know, I’m not good at math, but the odds of this entire weekend happening the way it did seem pretty cosmic.”
“Cosmic. What a lovely way to put it.”
“By the way, Hyung, this is Hyunjin. Hyunjin, Felix,” Jeongin waves his hand back and forth while he gives the two a proper introduction, even though they’re already smiling at each other like they’re old friends. Hyunjin offers his hand for a shake, which Felix takes, but he also gives a respectful bow that Hyunjin returns.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise. I hear you took very good care of my boy last night.”
Jeongin watches the subtle change in Felix’s face as he no doubt speeds through their night together in his head. He doesn’t blush, but his freckles do darken just the slightest, and it makes Jeongin squirm in his seat. “We took care of each other,” He says finally, and of all the things Jeongin had expected to come from that pretty mouth, that wasn’t even on his radar.
“Hyung!” He scolds, but the only heat to it ends up on his cheeks when he flushes.
Hyunjin, of course, doesn’t make it any better. “I taught him how to do that thing, you know. With his tongue?”
“You did not! I taught you!”
“Which thing? He did so many beautiful things with that tongue last night,” Felix says with a smile and a wistful sigh, and Hyunjin slips him an approving nod.
“I like you, Felix. We’re going to get along fabulously.”
Sun shines through every pore when Felix smiles down at Hyunjin, almost like he was genuinely worried that he wasn’t going to like him. Jeongin jots a mental note to ask him about it later.
“Have you guys looked at the menu yet?”
“Felix!”
Angelic features twist into something somehow disgruntled but still incredibly fond, but he throws a smile to the girl that walks up to the table, carrying with her an aura that says she is not to be fucked with. She looks young, and she wears a strong nose, not exactly like Chan’s but close enough that some kind of relationship is obviously there. It's clear that she's the boss by the way she crosses the room; like she owns it, because she does.
“Yeah, Hannah?” Felix asks with the sweetest little lilt that almost makes up for the sarcasm. He flutters his eyelashes at the girl when she sets a hand on his shoulder. She's a good bit shorter than him, but you'd never know it.
“We don’t pay you to flirt with the customers, Lix.”
“Then why do you pay me?”
Jeongin doesn't dare laugh, until the girl softens. She folds her mouth into a hard line, but her eyes also hold sparkles as she looks up at Felix and sighs.
“I wouldn't be on your ass, unnie, but Raquel called in, and you've got less than an hour. Run some food for me, please?”
They speak in English, but the nickname slips out effortlessly, and Jeongin finds his smile rounding out and softening at the corners when he hears it. Not for the first time around Felix, the word ‘cute’ bobs around in his head like an apple in a bucket of water, just waiting for a chomp.
“Shit, I forgot. I'm sorry. This is Hyunjin and Jeongin, by the way.”
“I figured. Chris said I'd know them when they walked in.”
Jeongin cocks a questioning eyebrow at Hyunjin, who shrugs in response.
“I'm Hannah, Chris' sister,” she says to the boys, this time in Korean. “I've been listening to the lovebirds chirp about you two all day.”
The fallout from the bomb she drops feels more like down pillows on a hot day. It's a folded paper star added to the jar in Jeongin's chest.
“Okay,” Felix pouts, but it's gone in an instant, “I gotta go do my big boy job now. Look at the menu, I'll be back in a minute!”
“I'll see you in…” Jeongin glances at his bare wrist, reading nothing but a random scratch and a few moles, “Forty-five minutes.”
Felix nods and the two start to walk back toward the kitchen.
“Your hair looks really nice, by the way!” Jeongin calls after them, not a single care given to the people around that look at him and must think he's a creep trying to hit on his waiter.
It's not Felix who looks back, but Hannah, with a smug smile.
“Thanks, I did it! He asked me to do something pretty for yo—Unnie!” She cuts herself off with a laugh when Felix wraps an arm around her neck and pulls her into a headlock to shut her up.
Jeongin watches them walk away and wonders how he fits so perfectly into such a foreign place.
Forty-four minutes to go.
~~~~
An hour later, the booth that Jeongin and Hyunjin have claimed becomes exponentially smaller when Chan and Felix squeeze in beside them with their own plates of food. The conversation doesn’t lull or pause in the slightest with the new additions; the boys jump in seamlessly and enthusiastically agree that Changbin and Seungmin need to fuck it out properly and finally put a label on their relationship. They even crowd into frame for a Snapchat to Jisung congratulating him on his first open mic performance. Jeongin gets a blurry snap back from Jisung and Minho (he thinks) demanding to know who their hot new friends are that he never replies to, even if all that gets him is five more in rapid succession.
It's just enough laughter and good-natured ribbing, just enough talking over each other and embarrassing stories pieced together between fits of breathless giggles, just enough chaos before too much becomes too much and Jeongin's hands start to shake. It's almost like they never left home. Jeongin half-expects Seungmin and Changbin to walk in at any moment, red-faced with messy hair and acting like they weren't making out in the car, and pull up their own chairs to join them. Chan is just as lovely as Hyunjin has advertised, and before they even need a second round of drinks, Felix and Hyunjin are following each other on Instagram and talking about places they want to visit someday, maybe together. They all fit so easily, jagged pieces of one big puzzle, and Jeongin almost tears up when he thinks about leaving Chan and Felix behind when it's time for him and Hyunjin to go home.
When Hyunjin gets up to pee, Felix cups a hand around his mouth and makes siren noises, booing him for breaking the seal.
Though in a way, Felix has broken his own seal. Now that he's familiarized himself with Jeongin's body, he can't seem to get enough. The hesitance from yesterday is gone, and now that he knows he no longer has to ask, his wandering touches are nearly lethal. As soon as his ass hit the vinyl booth, Felix had slung his arm solidly around Jeongin’s shoulders and it hasn't moved an inch since. The crook of his elbow fits like a glove around his neck, and he uses his grip to pull Jeongin in for kisses any chance he has. Warm fingers trace the shell of his ear while he speaks and it takes his breath away, they press gently into the lingering bruises and make him choke on his words. Felix’s earlier complaints about Jeongin tasting like an ashtray after a pint of Guinness are a distant memory; he licks every stray drop of foam from the corner of Jeongin's mouth and smiles every time.
The touch isn't sexual, it isn't casual, it isn't even possessive. It feels almost like adoration, like passion, like a burning urge. Jeongin feels it too, which is why he leans into the touch and keeps one hand resting gently on Felix's thigh. Not his inner thigh and not his bulge. Just the top of his thigh, solid and constant, even as his fingernails restlessly scratch at the denim now and again. Every time they do, Felix shivers.
Dessert is skipped and the group grabs another round—Chan can't stop giggling when Hannah has to bring him a beer and her face says she will not forget this—and moves to the other side of the building, where there's smaller tables and fewer chairs, a dart board, a small, unused karaoke stage, and two pool tables. It's obviously the ‘party’ side of the pub; the lights are darker here, the music is louder and the playlist is different, a lot of songs that Jeongin doesn't know but still manages to move to, little sways of his hips and bobs of his head. Hyunjin stands beside him and effortlessly hits every beat with a blank face, like he doesn't even realize he's moving, and Chan watches every twitch of every muscle in awe.
It’s Chan who offers up a game of darts, and after getting absolutely spanked in two-on-two, Jeongin and Felix both retreat to a high-top table in the corner to spectate, the pair perfectly content to sip their drinks and watch Chan make a fool of Hyunjin again, this time in a game of pool that Hyunjin doesn't really play. He can't; he's too busy watching Chan’s biceps flex as he grips his cue, in that cut-off shirt whose arm holes dip low enough for Jeongin to see just how cut he truly is. Too busy giggling when Chan slides up behind him with his hands on his hips, maneuvering him to ‘get the right angle for the shot’. Too busy draping himself over the table like an old Hollywood starlet, nothing but long lines and soft curves to be ogled.
At one point, Chan all but mounts the pool table, one leg up on the edge, ass standing high and proud and jiggling when he adjusts his position. From his front-row seat, Hyunjin chokes on his spit, and the strangled sound draws Felix’s attention.
“Oh, so that’s why he agreed to play pool,” Felix teases.
Two balls ricochet off each other with a loud clack and Chan crawls off the table with a triumphant smile that turns shy when he spins and sees Hyunjin staring at him.
“Five bucks says they fuck on that pool table before the end of the night.”
“No more bets for me,” Jeongin laughs, and sips his beer, “I'm already out ten bucks to Hyunjinnie.”
“Why?”
“Because you didn't try to stick your tongue down my throat as soon as you walked up to me.”
“Oh. Well, I'm terribly sorry,” Felix purrs, hand reaching out to slip into Jeongin’s hair and pull him towards his mouth, “Let me make it up to you.”
Felix kisses Jeongin just as intensely as he did last night, like a man dying of thirst who's just stumbled on a clear, cold babbling creek. Little whines and whimpers slip off Jeongin's tongue and slide right down Felix's throat, his Adam's apple bobbing almost aggressively underneath Jeongin’s hand when he cups it around his neck. It's so easy to get lost in each other here, so easy to ignore all the outside stimuli, to forget that they're not alone. Jeongin licks along the back of Felix's teeth and kisses away the little drops of saliva that gather in the corner of his mouth.
“You know,” Felix says once they part, breath blowing hot and heavy against Jeongin's face, “If I'd have known Chris wasn't home last night, I obviously would have brought you back to mine.”
“I'd have let you.”
“Think we can convince him to not be home again tonight?”
“I don't think it'll take much convincing. They've already defiled one bed in that hotel room, why not make it two?” Jeongin says with a smirk, reaching over to pluck a cherry from Felix's Shirley temple and pop it in his mouth. It bursts between his teeth, sugary and sweet and a single drop of bright red syrup slips down Jeongin’s chin, but before he can move to wipe it away, Felix is there, wiping at the trail with his thumb before popping it into his own mouth and licking the sticky mess away.
But when he looks back up, his eyes tremble just a little. He's nervous.
“Okay, so like… I was gonna wait to bring this up,” Felix starts, and a little tingle of ice-cold fear gathers at the top of Jeongin’s spine, small and harmless but ready to spiral into something wretched and all-consuming at the drop of a hat. “Because I don't want you to think I'm fucking insane, because I'm not—”
“You kind of are,” Chan butts in, but Felix waves the comment off.
“But Chris and I have been talking about taking a trip ourselves. We were toying with the idea of spending the summer in Korea, actually. Like, before this,” He clarifies, motioning between the two of them, “Happened.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” Chan adds from the pool table and he bends over to line up another shot. He sinks it, because of course he does; there's significantly less solid billiard balls left on the table than there are stripes, scattered randomly along the felt, “I've got family there.”
Jeongin cocks an eyebrow at Felix. “And you?”
“I… just love the culture,” He asks more than tells, hands clasping the lowest-hanging fruit he can reach.
Jeongin doesn't buy it for a second. “Yeah? Really big into culture, are you?” He asks, sarcastic as can be. It's hard to tell in the low light, but he knows that Felix blushes. It's the face he makes, not just the rush of color and heat to his cheeks, that gives him away.
“Totally. I go nuts for history and art and all that. And also,” He reaches over to play with Jeongin's fingers, and Jeongin pushes back until their fingerprints are kissing, “I’d just really like to see you again. To keep seeing you. I don’t think I’m okay with this being over yet.”
“You know, I'm not sure I am, either.”
“So if Chris and I come spend a few months in Korea, you’d wanna see me again?”
“Of course I would, I do. Jisung would love you.”
“Man, would Seungminnie hate you,” Hyunjin giggles, and when Jeongin looks over, Chan's got him in a hug from behind, holding him tight to his chest and nuzzling into his shoulder. They're both covered in little blue chalk smudges, a map of everywhere they've let their hands linger. Jeongin pulls his phone out with one hand and snaps a picture as lowkey as he can. It'll probably be blurry and out of focus but Hyunjin will think it's ‘artistic and deep’ and Jeongin just knows he'll want to paint it.
He doesn't notice Felix moving their clasped hands until he's got soft, warm lips on his skin, leaving a gentle kiss on each of his knuckles, one after the other. When he speaks, he presses his words directly into Jeongin's flesh. “I’m glad you got on the bike, Innie.”
“Why did you stop? You said you don't do it often.”
“Never, actually. I've been stared at and catcalled and whatever, but I've never actually stopped. I'm not sure why I pulled over this time, but I'm really fucking happy that I did.”
“Me, too. Meeting you is something I'm going to remember for a very long time, hyung.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah” Chan says, finally giving up the charade and racking his cue. “It's all very cute and all, and we're all romantic and horny and we're gonna be together forever. You're taking Innie home, right?” Chan asks Felix, leading Hyunjin over by tangled fingers, “And I'm going back to the hotel with Hyunnie?”
“Works for me.”
“Then let me take the car, my gym bag’s in there.”
They each pull a set of keys from their pockets and trade them, which Hyunjin and Jeongin both watch with furrowed, confused eyebrows, and Chan laughs when he notices. “Innie, did Felix ever tell you that the bike he spent all day toting you around on isn’t his?”
“What?”
“Hyung!”
“Wait, then whose is it?”
Chan smirks, lazy and confident. “It’s mine.”
Jeongin can practically hear Hyunjin cum. It looks like it, too, with the way his eyes roll up into his head for a split second.
“Okay, don't say it like that,” Felix rushes to explain, “Technically, yes, the bike is Channie-hyung’s and the car is mine, but we share.”
“Lix, baby, I'm just giving you shit. Nobody cares who technically owns the bike. We've got more pressing matters to deal with, like I'm sure Innie’s trying to fuck properly, and I'm trying to go get stoned and then railed, in that order, so… meet you guys for breakfast? We’ll hit the beach tomorrow.”
He doesn't wait for an answer, he just clicks his tongue and winks at Felix, waves at Jeongin, and heads toward the door. Hyunjin wiggles his fingers at the pair on his way out, and it's only then that Jeongin notices that the place is all but empty. Once again, he’s lost track of time, but it's surprisingly easy to do with Felix. When they're together, minutes lose steam and hours dissolve and days color outside their lines. All that exists is a couple billion atoms that push and pull against each other like the moon bending entire oceans to her will.
“Is it closing time?”
“Just about. I'm surprised Hannah hasn't kicked us out yet.”
“Let’s spare her the walk over here and just go now. I'm really trying to be respectful but I'd also really like a dick inside me very soon. Preferably yours.”
Felix bites his lip and offers his hand to help Jeongin off his stool. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I said no to that?”
“Boyfriend?” Jeongin scoffs, just to tease. It doesn't land the way he wants it to; he knows his face is beet red by how warm his cheeks feel, and the lovesick smile is probably a dead giveaway. Felix presses his lips against Jeongin's dimple.
“Well, we're already on our second date, and you're here for four more days. We could be on date six by the time you leave.”
“That would make this the third-longest relationship I've ever had.”
“Hmm….” Felix hums, leaning down to trail the sharp point of his nose up the vein that runs down the side of Jeongin’s neck, “How many dates until we're in the lead?”
“Fifteen.”
“Better get started.”
“Well, can you get started somewhere else?” A voice asks from behind the bar, and two heads turn to find Hannah staring at them with one perfectly arched eyebrow, “I’m supposed to meet Liv in 45 minutes.”
“Do you want help closing up?” Felix asks, and Jeongin is so fucking smitten by how he still manages to be polite and kind, even with his dick hard and pressing a solid line through his jeans, right next to his zipper. Felix truly is something of an angel.
“I got it, but thanks. Have a good night, guys,” She says, and it's a clear dismissal.
Jeongin reaches for Felix's hand. “So, Hyung, what do you say? Can I have a ride?” He asks, and as cheesy as the line is, it makes Felix's eyes go dark and he licks his lips.
“Baby, you can have all the rides you could ever want. Let's go.”