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It’s not like Jake misses him or anything. That would be absurd. They see each other every day, all twenty-five hours in a twenty-four-hour day. Some might even say they see each other too much, the seven of them living in each other’s pockets as they do.
It’s just that… Well. Jake got used to him. That makes sense, right? You share a room with someone long enough and you get used to the way they exist in your shared space. And now a solo room feels too big, too empty, and too silent. But it’s fine because Jake likes his privacy and his alone time and instead of spending twenty-eight hours a day together they spend a few hours less. That’s fine. Healthy even. He was clamoring for this change, who is he to complain after he gets it?
“If you think about it,” Sunoo says, which is not a good start because Sunoo is a complete F and Jake is a staunch T so their ‘thinking’ never really lines up, “dating your roommate is probably the best bet.”
“How did you come to that conclusion?” Jake asks. What he really means by that is: What the fuck are you talking about? They were sitting in silence up until this point, aside from occasionally nudging each other in the ribs to show a Tweet or TikTok they thought the other might enjoy.
Sunoo, adept in decoding his words and then promptly ignoring the message, continues, “Say the two of you get along and work well together, wouldn’t that mean you’re very compatible? Half the struggle with relationships is being able to live together.”
“Where did this come from?” Jake asks the more crucial question this time.
“TikTok,” Sunoo says. He hasn’t even looked up from his phone this entire time, scrolling through Twitter on his burner account.
“Ah.”
“Do you think you get along with Jay hyung?”
“Do I get alo—Yes? I would hope so? We’re in the same group, we work together, he’s my best friend. I would think so.”
Sunoo turns away from his phone towards the end of his statement, eyebrows raised in surprise. “He’s your best friend? I thought that you thought it was Heeseung hyung. Or Sunghoon hyung. Or both.”
“No, that’s—They’re not—” Jake fumbles over the nuances of it. How does he say Heeseung likes to dip his feet on both sides of the line between devotedly platonic and intensely romantic, and that Sunghoon is more than a best friend, he’s the other half of his soul, without sounding excruciatingly melodramatic.
“All three of them,” he starts haltingly, “are important in their own ways. But Jay is my best frie—Hold on. What do you mean by ‘I thought that you thought’?”
“Well, it’s not like I think your best friend is Heeseung hyung or Sunghoon hyung,” Sunoo says as if that should be obvious, “Or Jay hyung or whatever.”
And here Jake was thinking that he would know his own relationships best. Silly him. “Please. Enlighten me then.”
“It’s Jungwon,” Sunoo states, “For a while I thought it was Niki, but he has a crush on you—”
“I thought we weren’t allowed to say that part out loud.”
“—so I felt that calling you two best friends would be cruel to him. Hopefully he gets over it soon.”
“It’s cute,” Jake says defensively, “It’s an innocent thing.”
Sunoo spares him a deeply unimpressed glance then rolls his eyes. “You’re such an attention whore. You need us to like you so bad.”
“It’s not my fault everyone’s in love with me.”
“Oh, don’t,” Sunoo snorts.
“Why did you bring up Jay?” Jake is not stupid. He knows why Sunoo brought up Jay. The correlation between talking about roommates and then immediately switching over to him and Jay is apparent. But he wants to know the motive, because if it is what he thinks it is—
“I don’t know,” Sunoo shrugs, “Why did I bring up Jay hyung?”
Jake stares at him for a moment. “You know what. Good talk,” he says, “Let’s never do this again. Want me to order some tteokbokki?”
“Are you bribing me?” Sunoo asks.
“Is it working? I’ll get rose tteokbokki and two things of your choosing if you shut up about this.”
“Three things,” Sunoo says.
Jake silently opens up the delivery app.
He can not miss someone he spends every day with. He just can’t. Jake sees him more than he sees his own mother, but the ache that tightens his throat and wallows in his chest feels the same. How embarrassing. He should apologize to his mother for being a bad son the next time he goes home.
Sunghoon is staring at him with a strange expression. His eyes are narrowed, head cocked ever so, something a little sour in the flat line of his lips. “Are you even paying attention?”
Jake clears his throat, blinking a few times while his mind pores over the audio from the last few minutes that he was only half-processing.
Sunghoon does not talk a lot. Not when it is just the two of them and all the meaningless chatter is cut away from their conversations with the understanding that each other’s presence is enough. He only says what he needs to say when with Jake—whether that is to complain, to entertain, or to tell him about this post on quantum entanglement he saw that he thought Jake would like.
“You want to buy a Tiffany bracelet for your sister.”
Sunghoon looks at him a moment longer before turning his gaze back to the menu. “Yeah. Should I get something from the Lock or Hard Wear set?”
“Your sister is similar to you,” At this, Sunghoon smiles proudly to himself, “so I think finer jewelry would be better. The Lock set suits you, it’ll suit her.”
“You think the Lock collection suits me?”
“I have eyes, don’t I,” Jake says, smiling slightly.
“I like the way you said that.” Sunghoon glances at him, a smile of his own tugging at his lips when he sees the one Jake is wearing, “I want that to be your only response from now on if I ask.”
“Then it loses its sincerity.”
“Why? You don’t mean it?”
Jake laughs under his breath, resting his elbow on the table with his chin propped in the palm of his hand. “I mean it. Anything would suit you.”
Sunghoon’s eyes catch on the back of his hand, on the curled fingers that press against his cheek. “The second pair of rings arrived,” he says.
“Our friendship rings,” Jake says.
Sunghoon hums noncommittally. The menu is too short for him to be perusing it for this long.
“They are friendship rings, right?”
He sighs deeply and uses the tips of his fingers to push the menu aside, squinting his eyes shut. Jake thinks that was entirely too dramatic of a response for what is a rather simple question.
“The rings are whatever you want them to be, Jake.”
“So if I say couple rings, would they be couple rings or couple’s rings.”
Sunghoon looks at him tiredly, frowning, eyebrows drawn together. “Do you hear yourself?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair and picking up his phone to check his reflection. “I think you know the answer to that.”
Jake does not know the answer to anything anymore. Jake knows nothing. He would really appreciate it if people started spelling things out for him instead of answering questions with questions or ‘I think you know’s. If he knew, why would he be asking?
“The rings we bought. They’re under couple’s rings on the Tiffany website.”
“Okay?” Sunghoon says.
“Not couple rings, but couple’s rings.”
“You sound insane.”
Jake clenches his teeth, jaw flexing. Quietly, he says, “Stop making it seem like I’m reading into something that’s not there.”
“I didn’t say that,” Sunghoon counters, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. He is wearing a black polo shirt that hugs his chest in all the right places. His already pale skin looks even fairer in contrast. “I just don’t understand what you’re trying to do. What do you think you’re going to gain from this conversation?”
It is kind of awful how Jake is surrounded by such attractive men who like him so much.
“Clarity. Closure. Something.”
Sunghoon scoffs. “Closure.” He looks and sounds uncharacteristically disdainful. “You’re just cutting all the loose threads off. Who are you getting neat for? Should I take a guess?”
“Jesus, Sunghoon. Whatever,” Jake snaps, also leaning back and crossing his arms, though his mannerisms are entirely defensive, unlike Sunghoon, “Fine, let’s drop it. If you don’t want to talk, say that.”
“No, I want to talk. You want me to tell you something so you can dust your hands of this and tie up all your loose ends.”
“I haven’t—I haven’t done anything.” The guilt he feels strikes him as unfair when he’s never encouraged any of this and has never promised more than he was willing to give. It isn’t his fault what the others chose to read into his actions without consulting him.
“That’s the problem. You never do. Maybe you never say yes, but you sure as hell don’t say no,” Sunghoon is not one for cursing, at least not like this, and it makes Jake tense and blink rapidly, “You’re playing three different games at the same time and you’re not going to get anywhere with them. You might end up losing all of them at this rate.”
Jake would rate that metaphor a five out of ten. It gets lost in itself, too vague. He flexes his fingers against his bicep, digging his blunt nails into the fabric of his shirt. “What do you want me to do?”
“Have I ever wanted you to do something?” Sunghoon asks. He reaches over and rings the bell for them to order. “Have you ever considered that maybe I don’t care what you do, that I’m content with this.” He gestures between them with a loosely pointed finger, before folding his arm in again.
“You’re content with this,” Jake repeats blankly, the words sounding off to his ears, a strange, unfamiliar shape. It’s not like he’s making it up in his head. He’s wearing a couple ring that might actually be a couple’s ring. Sunghoon has retirement plans for them for God’s sake.
“Can’t bear the thought that not everyone is dying to have you?”
“Don’t be offensive.”
“Cause it kind of seems that way.”
Someone makes their way over to take their order—a stern-looking middle-aged lady who holds a thick notepad in her hand. “Order for us.” Jake knocks on the table once and sits back, only then realizing that he had leaned forward in his agitation.
Sunghoon exhales through his nose and turns to the lady with a polite smile, sliding the menu back to himself and quickly scanning it before asking for one portion of samgyeopsal, yukgaejang to split, and a cola each.
Despite the notepad in her hand, their server does nothing more than repeat their order back to them before disappearing. She hadn’t even had a pen to write with, he realizes.
“They have LA galbi,” Jake says.
“Jay’s not around to pay for us. Were you going to pick up the tab?”
Jake looks elsewhere. Sunghoon had graciously offered to pay for their meal. They take turns usually, with no real age difference to fall back on in terms of customs. And if they feel too stingy, they’ll resort to the judgment of a quick round of rock-paper-scissors to sort out the sponsor of that day’s meal.
“Don’t sulk,” Sunghoon says.
Jake rolls his eyes. “Who’s sulking.” Sunghoon always teases him for pouting even when he really isn’t just to annoy him, because he enjoys Jake all riled up and huffing and puffing about the latest injustice done to him.
“I’m sorry this conversation didn’t go the way you wanted it to go.”
“You’re not sorry for shit,” Jake snorts.
“Of course not. But it was nice of me to say.”
“You can’t decide if you were nice on your own. That defeats the purpose, makes it insincere.”
“Do whatever you want,” Sunghoon says.
He says it so calmly and without fanfare despite abruptly shifting lanes in subject, that it takes Jake a moment to understand what he means—that he was responding to his earlier question of: What do you want me to do?
When he does, he curls his fingers into the fabric covering the tops of his thighs, clutching at the excess denim of his baggy jeans.
“Fine,” he says, “I will.”
Sunghoon raises an eyebrow at his tone. Jake did not intend for it to come out sounding like a challenge, but there is some petty, selfish part of him that would prefer it if Sunghoon looked a little more torn up about this. After all, most people would want their first love to fight for them.
“Ah. Is it my turn? Are we doing me now or can it wait?”
Jake rears back. “Excuse me?”
Heeseung slips one ear of his headphones off to hear him better. His hair is unstyled, freshly dry from his shower, and falling across his forehead in slight waves. He’s wearing a plain black shirt and sweatpants and it is so attractive, it’s kind of pissing Jake off.
“Can we reschedule this?” Heeseung asks, steamrolling right over Jake’s blatant confusion and his dropped jaw. He may not know what the fuck Heeseung is talking about but he is confident that it is something he should be taking offense to and his expression has shifted accordingly.
“Reschedule what—”
“Beomgyu and Jeongin want me to play, we can do this another day, right? You can talk to Jungwon first. It’s not like you were planning on making a move.”
Jake’s mouth opens and closes a few times. “Dude, what. I mean if you had plans then fine, hyung, but—”
“Cool. Thanks. I won’t forget. Let’s talk later.” And then he adjusts his headphones and promptly ignores him.
“What the fuck?” Jake asks the room but no one is listening.
It starts to become a problem when Jake plops down next to Jungwon two days later and his first response, after tilting to the side to check who made themselves at home on his bed before returning to scrolling through Weverse, is to say, “Oh, hyung. I don’t have anything I want to discuss. You can skip me.”
Jake splutters. “I don’t want to discuss anything with you!”
“Just be smart,” Jungwon says, stalking a fan’s profile and comments on Weverse with enough scrutiny that Jake feels bad for whoever woniebabiiiecat is. Maybe he thought Jake was insisting he had nothing to discuss because he was insulted by Jungwon’s refusal, but Jake was coming from a place of complete honesty. “And don’t cause a public scandal. Or a private one either. I don’t want to listen to Sunoo and Sunghoon hyung gossip.”
“They are brutal,” Jake agrees, “Also. What the hell are you talking about?”
Jungwon looks at him from the corner of his eye with more attitude than Jake thinks he deserves. “You’re serious,” he says.
“I’m very serious. I’m so serious.”
Jungwon sighs and drops his forehead to the mattress. Again, unnecessary. He turns his phone off and shifts onto his side to face Jake. “Hyung, come on.” His voice drips with pity. Jake pinches his cheek and wiggles it as punishment until Jungwon is wincing and squirming and frantically trying to tug his hand away.
“Don’t ‘come on’ me. You sound like Niki.”
“Niki has a lot to discuss with you,” Jungwon mentions offhandedly.
It makes Jake groan and bury his head against his hands, shaking it a few times at his members’ inability to just come out and say it. “About what?” he cries in exasperation, “What’s with all this vagueness.”
And because Jungwon is a wonderful leader, the best one Jake could ask for really, he pays no attention to Jake’s distress. “No broken hearts. That’s my only rule. I can deal with a lot of things, but I can’t fix broken hearts.”
“You didn’t get the new Boy Band Leader update yet?” Jake asks, “Version eight point six. You get broken heart fixing abilities.”
“It has too many bugs,” Jungwon plays along, voice soft in amusement but tinged with a sarcastic edge, “Apparently, once I fix it you start having hate sex instead.”
Jake jerks back, not having expected such a blunt statement. Jungwon isn’t a kid anymore and Jake has heard worse from him, but he still isn’t one to drop the not-safe-for-work stuff so casually.
“That’s a… pretty big bug.”
“Yeah. So no broken hearts and no scandals, public or private. I don’t care what else you do.”
“Noted,” Jake says, “I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Jungwon studies him for about a minute which Jake spends getting increasingly more antsy. For some reason, it has his salivary glands working on overdrive and he has to swallow a few times while Jungwon silently pries him open and scours his soul using his eyes. He is close to sweating by the time Jungwon shakes his head and dismisses him with a mellow, “You know you’re a terrible liar, hyung.”
Riki did, apparently, have some stuff to discuss with Jake. Though it was less of a two-way conversation and more of Jake being talked at.
His points followed as such:
- You still have to like me best.
- Jungwon isn’t allowed to be your best friend.
- I’m your best friend.
- Don’t be loud or gross with [redacted].
- If you are, you owe me a meal.
- Wait, so what about Sunghoon hyung? (What do you mean?)
- And what about Heeseung hyung? (What about him? Yah! Don’t just ignore me.)
- Wah, hyung. You’re so mean. I respect it. (What are you talking about??? Respect what?????)
- I can’t believe it took moving out for you to make up your mind. (At this point Jake had given up on receiving any sort of clarification and had simply nodded along.)
- I guess if it makes you happy, I give you my blessing. (Who needs your blessing, you fucking brat, come here.)
And then they had wrestled until Jake fell off the bed and Riki had spent five minutes laughing at him.
“Okay, but, hyung. You definitely still like me best, right?”
Jake shoves Riki over and lays across the width of his bed, legs hanging off. “What do you want to eat?”
He had left Jungwon’s room hastily after his stunningly simple execution in the form of seven words. He’d figured Riki would be down to order in lunch with him before they had to leave for rehearsals. Riki had taken the opportunity to ambush him with one of those strange conversations all his group mates have seemingly been expecting to have with him.
Riki puts his hand over Jake’s phone screen, something Jake absolutely hates when people do which he knows well. “You didn’t answer my question,” he says.
He’s not fooled by the needy act. If Riki were sincere about wanting to be Jake’s favorite he would keep it bottled up like his life depended on it until it boiled over in an emotional outburst.
“What do you want?”
“The jacket,” Riki says without hesitation, “I asked for it on my birthday live and you still haven’t given it to me.”
“Because it’s mine?” Jake says, “You already have access to my entire closet, why do you need to steal my clothes?”
“You hate me,” Riki says.
Jake chokes on an incredulous laugh, “Oh, grow up.”
“You hate me,” Riki repeats, rising onto his knees like he’s about to climb off the bed and leave, “I’m telling Jay hyung.”
“You’re unbelievable,” Jake smushes his face against the mattress and reminds himself that fighting with an eighteen-year-old, a freshly turned eighteen-year-old at that, is beneath him. “Let’s share,” he sighs, resting his cheek on the crumpled up duvet to free his mouth, “Be nice, Niki-san. We can share.”
“No.”
Fighting an eighteen-year-old, Jake reminds himself while breathing deeply through his nose, is entirely beneath him. He’s basically a kid. Though to be fair, this is out of character for Riki. For all that they joke about his maknae-on-top inclinations and prankster personality, Riki is well-behaved when it comes down to it. He understands when to push the envelope and when to simmer down and say, ‘Yes, hyung.’
So for him to be insistent and uncompromising about this—about taking Jake’s expensive leather jacket on a whim—means there’s something more to the gesture, even if Jake doesn’t understand what.
He flips onto his back, looking up at Riki. He’s still braced on his knees like he doesn’t want Jake to forget that he has his Jay hyung card to wield in case things don’t go his way. Jake feels bad in a very sudden and apologetic way, as some of the pieces start to click into place, that he had to have a crush on him of all people. It can’t be fun to like someone as… Well.
Loose is too promiscuous for Jake’s rather boring sex life. Fickle is perhaps too harsh a judgment on himself. Easily tangled, maybe. There is something to be said about being too open to love and too greedy to let go.
“You can have the jacket,” Jake decides.
Riki’s lips split in a slow blooming smile. Jake hopes to spend the rest of his life making him light up like that.
“Hey,” he says. He taps his phone against his chin, debating whether to say the second part. Riki tilts his head with a hum, eyebrows rising in question. “You are my favorite, you know.”
And because he is the eternal pain in Jake’s ass no matter what else he might or might not be, Riki only scoffs in reply, “Yeah, I know.”
Never mind. Fuck this kid. Sunghoon drops by a few minutes later to ask about lunch and has to break them apart from where Jake is pinning Riki down on the floor and attempting to tickle him to the point of tears.
Heeseung actually remembers his promise to reschedule their talk in a surprising turn of events because it wasn’t like Jake was going to remind him. Though in a suspicious twist, he reschedules it to a rare chunk of time where they’re alone at the dorms, everybody else using their taste of freedom to breathe in some fresh air and feel the sun on their faces.
“No one’s telling me anything,” Jake complains. Heeseung likes when he’s pouty, says he shows a lot of natural aegyo then, which is why he allows Jake to get away with the whining. Jake just likes complaining to his only hyung because who else is he going to act like this with?
Heeseung presses his thumb to the swell of his bottom lip in an entirely non-platonic way. Not that Jake knows how one might do it in a platonic way. He almost licks the pad of his thumb before he catches himself. Also not a very platonic thing to do.
“Poor thing. Are the kids keeping stuff from you?” Heeseung murmurs, a lame attempt at sympathy. He looks more invested in the way Jake’s lip stretches out when he drags his thumb down. He pulls too far and it bounces back into place.
“What did you want to talk about, hyung?” Heeseung’s response is to shrug helpfully. “Because I have something.”
“Let’s hear it.” Heeseung shifts around and draws a leg onto the mattress, turning to face Jake who is stretched out and lounging comfortably on his hyung’s bed.
“I think we need to set some stricter boundaries because, um, I don’t want this ambiguity in our relationship to bite us in the ass later.”
“Sure. That’s definitely the reason why,” Heeseung says dryly.
“I’m not wrong.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“Whatever.”
“You said stricter boundaries. What are you suggesting?”
Jake frowns at him. “Weren’t you the one who wanted to talk. You tell me.”
“No, that was you,” Heeseung says, blinking innocently.
Jake gapes at him, “How did you possibly come to that conclusion?”
“You’re talking now, aren’t you,” Heeseung points out.
Fuck, he is so annoying. If Jake has the floor, he might as well talk, but it’s not like he was going out of his way to seek out a conversation with Heeseung about the state of their relationship.
“And I assume you’re planning to break up with me?”
Jake is doing what with whom now? Breaking up? Breaking up suggests a prior state of being together. Last Jake checked he was firmly not dating Heeseung. And given that the last time he checked was the last time he was conscious, which is approximately right this very moment, he is pretty confident in his status of not-dating Heeseung.
“I’m not even dating you,” Jake says.
“Not literally,” Heeseung says, a touch reproachful like Jake is being difficult on purpose, “I just mean, are we finished with this in-between business?”
“Oh,” Jake nods a few times, “Yeah. Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” Heeseung says in a pleasant and comforting tone of voice, sounding too well-adjusted for Jake to trust it. Sure enough, he adds, “But before we call it quits, can I know what it feels like? Just once?”
“What what feels like?”
“You,” Heeseung says. His hand is on Jake’s upper thigh, fingers spread and dipping in to brush across the sensitive inside.
“I must be hearing things,” Jake says slowly, “because I swear it sounded like you were asking to have sex with me. Right after I said we needed to set boundaries.”
Heeseung raises a shoulder in a careless half-shrug. That, the hooded eyes, and the ghost of a smirk he turns on Jake are frustratingly attractive. It makes him mad, actually, how attractive his demeanor is without even trying.
“You’ve lost it.”
“That’s not a no.”
“I’m sorry, does ‘you’ve lost it’ sound like interest to you?”
But all Heeseung does is continue to look at him, eyes dark with hunger, a physical weight on his skin. Lately, since their Orange Blood comeback if Jake has to put a finger on it, Heeseung sits in his skin with the reserved confidence of someone who knows his own worth. Even at his most clumsy, most socially awkward, he holds himself with a self-possession that is unreasonably sexy. God, does Jake have a competency kink? Anyway. Introspection for another time.
He fidgets, glancing around Heeseung’s room for a distraction before doing a curl up to move to a sitting position, his hands falling to his knees as he draws them against his chest. He peers at Heeseung over the tops, arms wrapped around them.
“Just once?” he asks, “Promise?”
Heeseung’s teeth show with his smile, with his breathy laugh, so fucking smug. He leans in and Jake has to bite the inside of his cheek to not pull back. He is so close. His hands find Jake’s knees and pull them apart. Jake makes a startled sound, eyes widening in surprise and then embarrassment as Heeseung spreads his legs wide enough to crawl between them.
He doesn’t kiss him. His lips gently graze Jake’s jaw instead. He nuzzles his nose into the spot below his ear and presses his mouth to his neck to murmur, “Promise.”
Liar. If there is anything Heeseung is good at, it is being persuasive. And if there is anything he enjoys, it is monopolizing Jake for himself. Put together? Jake knows that if it were up to Heeseung, today would not be the last time he ended up in his bed.
Heeseung’s hands find the waistband of his jeans and trace it to the center to fiddle with the button and zipper. He undoes them with a deft gesture, slipping underneath to snap the band of Jake’s Calvin Klein boxers against his skin. Jake jolts and a whimper slips free.
Heeseung draws back from his neck and grins. He tugs at the jeans and Jake obligingly lifts his hips up, a flush starting in his ears. The pants fall to the floor and a warm hand wraps around his ankle squeezing.
“Nervous?” Heeseung asks, “First time?”
“Nervous, yes. First time, no,” Jake replies.
“Right,” Heeseung says, rolling his eyes at no one in particular as he unties the drawstrings of his sweatpants, “I knew that.”
He doesn’t step out of them just yet, reaching for the bottom hem of his hoodie instead, crossing his arms to remove it. The shirt underneath rises as well, flashing his stomach and the subtle v-line of his hips, his sweatpants having slipped down.
He’s gone commando, Jake realizes. Of course he has.
The hoodie falls on top of the jeans and Heeseung shakes his head to settle his hair back into place, using his pinky to part it over his forehead.
He is kind of ridiculously hot. Not in the way Sunghoon is ridiculously hot, where it is clear that God clearly has His favorites, but in a magnetic way. Half the appeal is the way he moves, talks, flirts.
Something tightens in the pit of Jake’s stomach and he draws his thighs together, clenching them. Heeseung catches this and smirks. His eyes lingering on Jake’s boxers, he asks, “Take them off at the same time?”
Jake nods. They reach for their respective articles of clothing but Jake becomes preoccupied watching more and more golden skin appear as Heeseung slips his sweatpants off. It catches for a moment over his crotch before his cock bobs free and Jake, embarrassing as it is, hand to God swears his mouth waters.
“It can’t just be me,” Heeseung tuts, looking amused by Jake’s distraction.
“Sorry.” He ducks his head, shoving his boxers past his feet in one jerky motion. Jake has his fair share of insecurities as people do, but his body, in its entirety at least, is not one of them. He knows that he looks good, that his strong features, small waist, and defined abs are appealing visually and even better to touch.
But he is shy. Nudity, in all its varying levels, is not something they are stranger to as a group that spends 99.99% of their time together, in shared dressing rooms and otherwise. But nudity in a sexual context still has not lost its novelty, more so since this is the first time that it is Heeseung.
Heeseung’s appraisal is a tangible heat on his skin. “Has hyung ever told you how pretty you are, Jaeyun-ah?”
Jake’s breath hitches. He hadn’t said yeppeoyo, which Jake has heard from him before, on and off camera. He had said it in English—pretty. Jake shakes his head and Heeseung clicks his tongue, “That’s a shame. Look at you.”
Jake does not. He tugs the bottom of his shirt to cover his lap and bites down on the corner of his lip. “How is anything supposed to happen if you do that,” Heeseung says. Maybe it shouldn’t happen. It’s not that Jake doesn’t want this. Honestly speaking, he needs Heeseung in him the way plants need water; he might wither away without it.
But he also has this thing about wanting to impress Heeseung. He knows, he knows, that he displays Pick Me™ behavior around attractive older men, especially if they’re a) taller than him or b) talented, because Sunghoon makes it a point to remind him every time he acts like a fool. Heeseung is both. Jake never stood a chance.
Heeseung leaves him on the bed to fish out a bottle of lube from his desk drawers. He plucks it from the top one on the right side of the desk and Jake eyes him when he realizes the bottle is also mostly empty.
“Please don’t tell me you jack off in your gaming chair while watching porn on your computer or something.”
Heeseung stays silent for a moment. “Okay. I won’t tell you.”
“Dude, seriously,” Jake groans, “I’ve sat in that chair, at that desk, so many times before. Tell me you at least wipe that shit down after.”
Heeseung shrugs and Jake flops down on the bed, hands over his eyes like a Victorian maiden. A hand brushes up his shin and nudges at the inside of his knee. His legs fall open and the bed dips between them. Jake is hard against all reason and only stiffens more when Heeseung wraps his hand around his cock and tugs.
Out of instinct and no small amount of self-preservation, Jake kicks him in the chest with his heel. His hands fall from his eyes. “Where’s the lube!” he splutters, “Are you trying to give me friction burn? And why are your hands so fucking dry?”
Heeseung has the decency to look apologetic, however half-hearted the attempt is. He flicks the lube cap open with his thumb and pours an excessive amount over his palm, showing it to Jake after for approval. Some of it drips off his fingers onto Jake’s thigh.
He rolls his eyes and falls back against the mattress, waving a hand in permission. Heeseung grazes his palm over his dick and Jake closes his eyes, waiting for a firmer grip, but the touch glides past his balls. Heeseung circles over his perineum, ripping a shiver from his spine and a soft noise from his throat.
The finger trails lower, brushing over the tight furl of his hole. Heeseung doesn’t try to press in, only rubs the muscle until Jake has pre-cum bubbling from the tip of his cock and his hole is fluttering, opening up without Heeseung even entering him.
“Hyung, please,” Jake moans for the nth time, kicking his leg out of sheer frustration. Heeseung catches his ankle with his free hand and bends his leg towards his chest and to the side, taking the chance to slide his finger in all the way.
Jake releases a breath through his mouth, enjoying the sensation of fullness, no matter how slight it is in comparison to the real thing. “Another,” he says after a couple of seconds, already eager for more, for something he can really feel.
Heeseung doesn’t question it other than a brief glance at his face. He gives Jake two fingers then three, curling them up and stroking along his walls. He whines when Heeseung’s fingers pet over his prostate, back arching into the glow of pleasure. Whines even louder when Heeseung removes his fingers, and then yelps when hands clamp down on his waist and flip him over without warning.
“Backshots,” Jake observes, after he regains his bearings and climbs onto his forearms and knees, “How romantic.”
Heeseung laughs through his nose, a hand on Jake’s hip, the tip of his cock prodding at his clenching hole. Just like that. No lead up, no warning, nothing. Jake barely manages to suck in a deep breath before he’s pushing in.
Immediately, Jake drops his face to the mattress with a harsh inhale. God, he forgot how overwhelming being filled is. He shakes his head, forehead rustling against the sheets, an unvoiced, ‘It’s not gonna fit,’ trapped in his throat. Heeseung is the longest he’s taken—not that the competition is fierce given that it consists of one other person and Jake’s fingers—and by the time he bottoms out, Jake is half-certain he can feel him in his stomach.
Heeseung pauses there and then after a second of audible hesitation, squeezes Jake’s waist tentatively. “Are you breathing?”
As a matter of fact, Jake is not. He releases the breath he was unconsciously holding with a gasp. But breathing makes him tighten up around the cock prying him open and that sends his mind into a spin, open-mouthed panting into the sheets even though Heeseung hasn’t even moved.
Jake gathers his wits to lick his lips free of any drool and explains, “It’s been too long.” This is far from his first rodeo but he sure as hell isn’t acting like it, already falling apart when all Heeseung has managed to do is get his cock in him.
“A couple of months?”
“More like a year,” Jake grits through his teeth. Heeseung makes a noise that suggests he’s also making a surprised expression.
“Poor thing. Only had your hands for company.”
Jake shoots him a dry look over his shoulder, “Don’t act like you were getting pussy.”
Heeseung ignores that, of course. “You should have come to me earlier if you were so lonely.”
“I wasn’t lo—I feel like you’re rewriting history here. You’re the one who asked to fuck.”
Heeseung slides his hands around to cup Jake’s stomach, thumbs running along his skin in soothing strokes. “I didn’t sleep with anyone else because you were the only one I wanted.”
“Bullshit,” Jake calls, “It’s just no one wanted to fuck you.”
Over the course of their conversation—if it can even be called that—Heeseung had relented and drawn out an inch or so. Now he hauls Jake back by the palms pressed to his stomach, hips meeting his ass again. Jake’s thighs tremble and he grips the sheets in two fists, a moan knocked out of him.
“Does this count as getting pussy, then?”
“How would it count. I don’t have a pussy.”
“Debatable,” Heeseung mutters, and Jake is shocked when something sparks with interest in his gut. Heeseung’s hands still against him before they squeeze the tops of his thighs right by where his waist bends. “You tightened up,” he comments, a smirk in his voice, “Liked that, did you?”
Jake flushes, red traveling down his neck. “Can you get to it,” he grumbles, “Before the others come back.” Talking had distracted him, and now Heeseung feels manageable like he is only rearranging his guts instead of also prodding his lungs.
But then Heeseung pulls out until Jake’s wet hole clings desperately to the tip and slams back in with no concern for his well-being. Jake’s ass hurts from the force of the thrust and never mind, really, it is just as overwhelming as it initially was. Worse even because he slides past Jake’s prostate with long, hard strokes now.
He has to sound ridiculous. Heeseung fucks him hard enough he is shoved up the bed, face buried in the pillow, one hand braced against the headboard to avoid a concussion. Fingers tangle in his hair and rip him away from the one thing muffling his stupid sex noises.
Heeseung pulls out and Jake quite frankly sobs before he can get ahold of himself. His legs are kicked further apart, knees sliding on the sheets since they find no traction. Jake wedges his arms underneath himself, core tightening to hold himself up.
He sucks in a breath when Heeseung folds over his back and reaches between them to guide his cock back inside. Embarrassment pulses through him at how easily Heeseung fits—the slick, squelching sound of his cock making itself at home, the lack of resistance in his loosened walls.
“Guh,” Jake says dumbly, tongue heavy in his mouth, “Oh, nghh—fuck.”
Heeseung moves inside of him with a kind of violence that makes up for his less-than-expert technique, and Jake feels drool drip from his tongue onto the pillowcase, his mouth unable to close for more than a second to accommodate all of his moaning.
He has begun to reluctantly accept his status as the smallest in Enhypen and never before has that been made so apparent to him than with Heeseung crowding over him, enveloping him. His body cages Jake in, molding him to whatever position he desires. The arch of Jake’s back deepens and he cries out when it allows Heeseung to press harder against his prostate, clawing at the bedsheets.
“How are you still so tight,” Heeseung groans, sounding drunk and arms a vise around him, rutting at him until Jake is dizzy with it. “I want to live inside of you, Jaeyun-ah. Have you keep me warm. You can do that for hyung, can’t you?”
Right now, Jake can’t even speak. The only sound out of his mouth is ‘ngh’s and ‘ah’s, eyes clouded with tears from how oversensitive he already is. Heeseung moves a hand to the back of his neck and pushes his head down, the other tucked in the bend of his waist to lift his hips higher, curving his spine more to try and somehow bully his way even deeper.
Jake would scream if he had the breath to. As it is, he thinks his nose might bruise by the time Heeseung lets up. But the rough, careless manner is apparently everything he wants because his cock drips like a faucet.
Somehow, Heeseung does manage to drive himself deeper and Jake almost gags. He feels bloated with it despite knowing Heeseung is nowhere near his stomach. The hand on his head lightens up.
“You’re unreal,” Heeseung says, “How is your pussy so wet.”
Jake whines in protest in the back of his throat. He tilts his head to the side, fresh air like a balm on his lungs. “I don’t have a—I don’t have one.”
“Shh,” Heeseung hushes him like he’s being difficult, “Yes, you do. I’m fucking it right now.”
Jake is unspeakably turned on, a wounded whimper falling from his mouth in response. Heeseung laughs in his ear, somewhere between fond and condescending, “You should know better than to argue with hyung, Jaeyun-ah.”
“Sorry,” Jake gasps. He berates himself a moment later—what the hell does he have to apologize for? Not having a cunt?
It’s like instinct though when Heeseung pulls out the hyung card. He doesn’t do it often with Jake, in fact, he could probably count the number of times on his hands, but when he does, something sits up in Jake’s hindbrain like a well-trained dog. Hyung says jump and Jake only asks how high.
One of Heeseung’s hands finds his chest, thumb flicking over his nipple. Jake’s entire body stutters with a shock of pleasure that runs from his nipple to his dick and explodes outward. Heeseung pinches lightly this time, thumb and pointer finger. His abdomen caves in and his toes curl so tightly that a cramp spikes through his left foot.
“I think the whole building can hear us,” Heeseung says because Jake is wailing like a cat in heat. He swears his nipples were never this sensitive before.
Heeseung leaves his chest alone after a moment. “Seriously, Jake. Shut up.”
He sucks in a shuddering breath, not entirely sure he hadn’t come prematurely from that. Heeseung hooks his chin over Jake’s shoulder, mouth pressed to his ear. His hips are unrelenting, hammering away at Jake’s sanity with every thrust. He hasn’t formed a single intelligible word in quite a few minutes, and he is mildly worried he may never form one again.
Jake thinks they should do this forever. Heeseung moving over him, pushing in and filling every last inch of him, wringing pleasure from his sensitive body, a blanket of warmth against his back, his heavy breaths and provocative words funneled right into his ear.
He thinks this, he thinks this, and then without warning, a thought—an absent-minded, fragmented thing—rings through his mind and clears it of everything else.
What if it were him instead.
The second he thinks it, he feels like the scum of the Earth. How can he be thinking of someone else when Heeseung is literally inside of him? Jake shakes his head, trying to rid himself of everything but the sensations, the addicting stretch of his rim around Heeseung’s girth, the heavy weight in his lower abdomen when his cock punches in, the drag of it against his prostate when he draws out.
But his mind keeps flickering back to—would his hands be rough, would he whisper low and dirty in his ear, would he pull his hair, would he take Jake on his back and kiss him slow.
Heeseung wraps a hand around his throat, reaching from under his chest. Barely any pressure is applied but it knocks Jake from his head and shoves him into his body. “I can hear you thinking,” Heeseung says. ‘About someone other than me,’ goes unsaid.
He doesn’t sound upset necessarily, but his fingers tighten around Jake’s neck and he has half a second to wonder if he’s about to die because there is no way Heeseung knows proper choking technique before his mind fuzzes over and death becomes an acceptable outcome if it means Heeseung will keep fucking him like this.
“That made you tighten up,” Heeseung marvels. Jake makes a strained, reedy sound that translates to: love your cock, love it, love it, love it. Then a higher-pitched, nasally moan that translates to: Oh my fucking God, yes, yes, harder, please fuck me harder, I’m gonna come.
What pushes him over the edge is three things. Heeseung shortens his thrusts, keeping most of his length buried inside and instead grinding against Jake’s ass in subtle circles. At the same time, because Heeseung is clinically insane, he murmurs in Jake’s ear, “Should I come inside, Jaeyun? We didn’t use a condom, what if it takes?” And as the cherry on top, while he speaks, he flexes his fingers against his throat and for a brief, thrilling moment, Jake can not fucking breathe.
He comes screaming, or at least he does once oxygen hits his system again, and Heeseung inhales sharply through his nose, probably because Jake seizes up and his walls clamp down on Heeseung’s dick, tight enough to prevent him from moving. It wracks through him in brutal waves, in convulsions that knock him flat to the bed because his arms and knees slip out from under him.
“Shit,” Heeseung says, sounding mildly worried. Jake pants and drools like a dog. He’s crying, which is even more humiliating. Giving Heeseung this kind of ego boost is going to haunt him for years to come.
“Breathe,” Heeseung orders, running a hand up and down his spine, the labored heaving of his back, “Jaeyun, breathe.”
And of course, because his body is a traitorous whore, his lungs begin to settle and Jake breathes. Humiliating.
Heeseung picks him up. Sets him back on his forearms first and keeps him upright until his liquified muscles finally engage and take over, then hauls his hips up so Jake is spread on his knees. His dick is still firmly inside of Jake’s ass, still hard and throbbing.
He thrusts in just once, testing.
Jake stifles a shriek. His spine ripples at the feeling. “I’m gonna die,” he moans. He was already sensitive when Heeseung was fucking him to an orgasm, now it’s like his nerves are being electrocuted with pleasure that can’t decide if it wants to be pain.
“Can I keep going?” Heeseung asks.
“What part of ‘I’m gonna die’ sounds like I want you to keep going.”
Heeseung says nothing for a moment. “…So can I?”
“Yeah, whatever,” Jake mutters. He sniffles, settling low and allowing his chest to brace his weight.
To his credit, Heeseung does his best to avoid his swollen prostate and lightens up on fucking him into the bed. Not that it makes much of a difference. It’s still way too much. Jake screeches if Heeseung thrusts too hard or deep or fast, flat-out screams when his hips are pulled back so Heeseung can readjust his position.
He’s never understood the whole pillow-biting joke before but he gains a new appreciation for it today, jaw aching from the pressure. There are two new wet spots on the pillow cover because he can’t stop crying.
“Just come,” Jake sobs, squeezing at the pillow like it’s a stress ball, yanking at the worn cotton, “Hyung, p-please hurry up. I get it, you last more than five minutes. But ‘m dying here.”
Heeseung exhales hard through his nose, which tickles Jake’s neck and makes him shiver and whine. Heeseung shifts and presses his face against his shoulder blade, propping a forearm on the bed and clutching Jake’s hips against his own. The only warning he gives is, “Try not to get us a noise complaint,” before he proceeds to demolish every last bit of dignity Jake was clinging to.
Actually at first, due to the initial shock of it, Jake does not realize that the high-pitched, frantic, almost wounded animal sounds are coming from him. His senses are too busy drowning in the pounding Heeseung is giving him like he wants to carve a new space for himself somewhere in Jake’s stomach, and it takes a while for his brain to wonder: Who the hell is making that racket?
It takes even longer for his brain to realize: Oh. That’s me.
By that time Heeseung comes finally, thank fucking God. Jake sheds a few tears out of sheer relief. His hips are flush against Jake’s ass and his hands are bruisingly tight on his waist, trying to pull him closer as if he can push past Jake’s skin and bones to bury himself further.
For all of Heeseung’s ridiculous dirty talk about fucking his cunt, Jake is terribly glad he is not in possession of one because biology be damned, there is no way he wouldn’t have ended up pregnant, and then boom, there goes their career. Plus with the way Heeseung was going at it, he probably would have been knocking on Jake’s hypothetical cervix, and Jake does not want to know what a bruised cervix feels like.
Heeseung is breathing hard. Jake can feel his chest heaving against his back. Sweat drops roll off Heeseung’s chin, temple, and the ends of his hair and splash on him, though they might as well be drops in the ocean given how soaked Jake’s shirt is.
“I thought I told you to keep it down,” he says.
“Guh hngh mmfh,” Jake says into the pillow. What he meant to say is, ‘Go fuck yourself.’
Heeseung understands anyway and laughs under his breath, sounding shaky and exhausted. He has been incrementally lowering his weight onto Jake like if he moves slow enough Jake won’t notice the six-foot man laying on his back, dick still in his ass. Jake shoves at his arm to speed it up, taking it out from under him, and Heeseung drops the rest of the way down with a soft ‘Oof.’
Jake twists his head to the side. “What is wrong with you?”
“Here it goes,” Heeseung says in amusement. He sucks up a mustering breath and makes room between their bodies to pull out. He goes slow but Jake hisses through his teeth at how sore his hole is, all swollen inside.
“Why would you go that hard after I already came? Are you out of your mind? We have rehearsals all of tomorrow.”
Heeseung rests on his haunches and slips the tips of his thumbs inside to hook him open. Jake clenches in reflex but his hole doesn’t close and he feels cum start to trickle out. “Hyung! Don’t look!” he yelps, cheeks on fire. He throws a hand back wildly to shove at Heeseung’s chest, and when that doesn’t work, to cover himself up.
Heeseung clicks his tongue and pries it away. Jake reaches with his other hand. Heeseung makes an aggrieved sound in the back of his throat and snatches his wrists in one hand, pinning them to the small of his back. He spreads his knees wider apart, in turn forcing Jake’s legs to do the same since he kneels between them, and digs the remaining thumb further in, pulling down instead. His cum trickles out faster, running over Heesueng’s thumb and Jake’s taint, rolling down his cock.
“Stop it,” Jake whines, ears redder than anything.
“With a body like this,” Heeseung mutters, ignoring all of his protests, “knocking you up is just a matter of time.”
Jake splutters, his words deserting him for a good few moments. “That isn’t—How would—I don’t have a uterus.”
“You think if I fucked you enough times, your body would get the hint and make one?”
Jake turns and stares over his shoulder. “Were you dropped on the head as a child? What hint? No, don’t explain it, I don’t wanna know. Leave me out of your stupid fantasies.”
“You’re cute when you’re annoyed,” Heeseung tells him.
“I’m about to look real cute with my foot in your balls. Go get us something to clean up with.”
“You do remember that I’m older than you. A ‘please’ would be nice.”
“I let you stick your dick in my ass,” Jake says slowly, “Get me something to wipe with. Now.”
Heeseung snorts but listens this time, squeezing Jake’s ass once before disappearing out of the room. He returns shortly with a packet of baby wipes and a wet washcloth. Jake waits while Heeseung cleans himself first, too scared to turn over in case he makes a bigger mess.
Heeseung tugs his sweatpants on, dropping the used wipes on the ground. Jake wrinkles his nose and sighs, looking away. He flinches when a large palm lands on his ass suddenly, shuddering when Heeseung pulls that cheek open, and cool air fills the space. He nearly jumps when a hot puff of air hits his hole moments later, craning over his shoulder to see Heeseung nearly nose-first in his ass.
“Don’t put your mouth on it,” Jake cries, rolling away to free himself from Heeseung’s clutches, scrambling onto his knees so his ass is firmly out of reach of his mouth. So much for not turning over. He snatches the wet cloth from Heeseung and for a lack of better options, spreads it out underneath him to catch the cum dripping out.
He eyes Heeseung balefully while he wipes his stomach and groin clean of cum, discarding his shirt because the bottom of it is stained and the rest is soaked with sweat. “Stop staring,” he whines when he can no longer stall cleaning himself out and all Heeseung continues to do is watch him, “Hyung-ah, please.”
Not only does Heeseung refuse to look away, but he moves closer, fingers brushing over the reddened marks on Jake’s waist from where he dug in. “Go ahead,” he encourages, snickering when Jake huffs and hits his chest with the side of his fist, “You’re seriously cute.”
“What’s cute,” Jake grumbles, wrapping an arm around Heeseung’s shoulder and tugging him closer so he can tuck his head under his chin, preventing Heeseung from looking down. He reaches between them to scrape as much cum out as he can with two fingers, wincing and sighing into Heeseung’s neck.
Heeseung has his arms around Jake and he holds himself tensely. “You keep making sounds like that and I’ll get hard again.”
Jake shoves him away, snorting when he lets the force topple him sideways. He cleans his fingers with a baby wipe, “Why did you come so deep? It’s gonna take forever for all of it to leak out.”
Heeseung stares at him hungrily. Well, stares at his ass at least. “Give me ten minutes and we can go for round two,” he offers, glancing up to meet Jake’s eyes.
Jake returns his gaze with an unamused look, his tone acidic when he replies, “Keep dreaming.” He fakes lobbing the used wipe at Heeseung’s face, smirking when the older flinches. Leaning over the edge of the bed, he tosses it next to the other trash and then flops down, putting some space between them to avoid the wet spot.
“We need to shower,” Heeseung says. Were you not planning on taking one, Jake almost wants to ask, except he’s afraid the answer may be yes.
“My legs keep trembling,” he says instead, “I need at least fifteen.”
“My quads hurt,” Heeseung rolls over onto his side with a sigh, cushioning his head on his bicep. His lips form a small pout, “Why is sex such a workout.” His rabid horniness and his distaste for unnecessary physical exertion must be battling it out right now.
“On the bright side, we burned off at least one ramen.”
Heeseung lays a palm flat over Jake’s stomach, not minding how it jumps at the touch. He rubs admiringly, “I don’t think you need to burn anything off.” Jake shivers and scrunches his shoulders up, giggling helplessly, too ticklish to bear the gentle grazing. Heeseung presses down firmly, pinning him in place until Jake stops squirming.
Then his hand slides down and settles over the lowest point of his abdomen and Jake holds his breath, rightfully worried over what Heeseung will say next. “How many should we have? Two? Three?”
Jake covers his eyes with his hands and sighs deeply through his nose. At this point, he is too tired to yell. “I can’t have kids,” he says.
“Not with that attitude,” Heeseung agrees.
“You are so annoying,” Jake groans in despair, his entire soul behind it. He drags his palms down his face heavily, tugging at his skin.
Heeseung is laughing. Jake is in psychological distress and Heeseung is laughing. “It’s not funny,” Jake complains, shoving at him repeatedly to shut him up, “It’s not funny, hyung, stop laughing!”
“Ah, cute,” Heeseung’s shoulders shake and his eyes are creased up in happy crescents, “Ah, Jake, Jeit, hyung can’t deal with how cute you are.”
“Stop making me mad,” Jake says.
“You? You’re like a golden retriever puppy. You can’t call that mad. Puppies get annoyed and they sulk, they don’t get mad.”
Jake scoffs so hard his throat hurts. “Don’t tell me what I feel.”
Heeseung rises onto his elbow, peering down at Jake. His teasing smile darkens at the corners and his eyes lid, just enough for Jake to swallow roughly. “Even if hyung put you on your stomach and fucked you again right now, you’d just whimper about it until I took pity on you. All bark, no bite.”
“What the fuck,” Jake whispers.
Heeseung snaps out of wherever he just went, smile softening into something slightly sheepish. He lays down on his stomach, face turned towards Jake.
“What the fuck,” Jake repeats, “There is something wrong with you, I hope you know that.”
Clearly acting on impulse, Heeseung stretches over to kiss him. A peck, really.
“What was that,” Jake blinks at the ceiling then over at him.
Still hovering, Heeseung catches him in another kiss almost before the words can finish leaving his mouth. This one lingers. Heeseung’s lips are smaller than Jake’s but he uses them very effectively.
Slow to process, his hand makes its way up to the back of Heeseung’s head in stops and starts. He tangles his fingers in his sweat-damp hair. Heeseung deepens the kiss until Jake tugs him off, having run out of oxygen.
“What,” Jake pauses to catch his breath, “was that.”
“Payment.”
“For?”
“Breaking up with me.”
“I’m not breaking up with you.”
Heeseung hums, his eyes moving over Jake’s face, drinking him in like this is the last time they will see each other. Jake understands. Even if he would rather not. It’s goodbye to whatever they could have been. The first and last taste of it.
Rather than giving into the pit opening up in his chest, Jake falls back on nagging.
“You know, asking to have sex after I said we should set boundaries kind of defeats the purpose of boundary-setting.”
“You’re the one who said yes,” Heeseung says, “I only asked once.”
“I never said I was a good person either,” Jake mutters, rolling onto his stomach and turning his head to see Heeseung, arms crossed under the pillow.
Heeseung leans over him, one hand settling at the top of his spine. His hair falls into his eyes, clumped loosely together from sweat. His earlier cockiness has drained away with his orgasm, and what remains is a quiet sort of wanting. Jake’s chest contracts painfully to make up for the air he suddenly can not get enough of.
“Be good to him,” he says.
“That’s the plan,” Jake replies, “That’s what all of this is for.”
“Oh? Finally acknowledging it?”
“Acknowledging what?” Jake blinks innocently at him, digging his cheek deeper into the pillow.
Heeseung huffs out a laugh, expression lightening with an even mix of amusement and resignation. He glances away and shakes his head. “I’m just saying. Breaking up with me better be worth it.”
“Lee Heeseung, you are nothing,” He garners an admonishing slap on the ass for that, “I should be worried that breaking up with Sunghoon was worth it.”
Heeseung tilts his head with a click of his tongue, air hissing between his teeth when he sucks in a breath to disagree, “I don’t think so. He rejected you. Don’t revise history to make yourself feel better.”
“You tried to revise it earlier, hypocrite. How would you know anyway?”
“You’re not the only one Sunghoon confides in. Narcissist,” Heeseung tags on after a second.
“He didn’t… He didn’t reject me,” Jake tries, finding that too harsh of an interpretation.
“Yes, he did,” Heeseung shuts him down with a snort, “Knocked your delusions of grandeur down a few notches, which is good because I think finding out Sunoo had a crush on you irreparably ruined your ego.”
“I am literally six for six in my members liking me,” Jake says, “I feel like a man is allowed to take some pride in that.”
“None of us particularly wanted to, but you’re like a virus. You need to infect everybody. One wasn’t enough,” By that he means Sunoo, “Neither was two,” Sunghoon this time, “Or three,” Heeseung himself, “You just want and want and want like no one could ever be good enough for you.”
Heeseung sits up fully, one foot lowering to rest on the ground, and Jake turns onto his side, raising himself up on his forearm. He wisely remains silent. This is clearly something that Heeseung has been holding onto for some time. It spills out in an even-tempered, weathered way that suggests that this speech has been performed to death in his head and ingrained itself in muscle memory.
“And I don’t think you understand how infuriating that is for us. Sunoo and Jungwon managed to escape with their low-stakes infatuations, and I’m just fucking praying Riki is smarter about—about you,” Heeseung gestures at him with his hand, helpless, “than Sunghoon and I have been.”
“But me? You can’t possibly think that because I’m more laidback, I care less.” Jake hopes it doesn’t show on his face when he winces internally. “I’m not gonna hold it over your head or anything, so don’t think that…” Heeseung stops mid-sentence and waves his hand to fill in the blank, then changes tracks without clarifying. Jake has no idea what he was trying to say.
“You want him. That’s fine. Who am I to tell you how to feel. But you don’t get to downplay my feelings because you don’t want to deal with the guilt.” Jake stiffens like he was struck, dropping his gaze to the bedsheets in shame.
“I don’t think I ever knew the full extent—”
“You knew enough,” Heeseung says, cutting him off, “I would have given you whatever you wanted, Jaeyun, and you knew that. You just didn’t want me.”
Jake’s eyes fly up to Heeseung’s at the accusation and he lifts himself to sit upright, leaning forward. “Don’t say that. I did want you, but I never knew—”
“No, Jake,” Heeseung seems to have developed a knack for interrupting him, “You didn’t. Just listen to me before you argue. Here’s what I think. You knew how I felt, you knew you didn’t feel the same, but you were scared to tell me because you were worried I might get over you. And you couldn’t bear that.”
“That’s not fair.” Heeseung raises an eyebrow at him. “It’s not entirely fair,” Jake amends, “I downplayed the extent of your feelings, okay. I’ll accept that. But you’re making it seem like I never thought it was going to be you.”
Heeseung tilts his head, looking doubtful, but he doesn’t say anything, letting him speak his piece first.
“I–I genuinely thought,” Pausing, Jake clears his throat, dragging the blanket up his body to clutch it to his chest, unable to both be physically and emotionally vulnerable, “I genuinely thought that you were it for me. I mean after Sunghoon, I thought—We make sense, don’t we? You and I.”
Heeseung inclines his head but doesn’t verbally agree. “What changed?”
Jake shrugs, just as clueless as Heeseung. He laughs a little, under his breath, and without much humor. “Who the fuck knows? I spent an entire year thinking it was you. How could I not, hyung, when we’re like… like twin flames,” Jake settles on and Heeseung looks intrigued at the English phrase. “When I’m with you, it’s like there’s no one else in the room. So I don’t know how I’m even able to miss him so badly my chest hurts when he’s in the same fucking room.”
“Sounds serious,” is all Heeseung says.
“Don’t even,” Jake scoffs, tucking in the blanket around his waist.
Heeseung sighs, looking down at his fiddling hands. “I guess I’m just surprised it wasn’t Sunghoon.”
Jake rests his head on his knees, drawing his legs closer to his body. “It almost was, to be fair.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I mean he’s my—if we’re twin flames, then he’s my soulmate.”
“Okay. Then what about you and your Chosen One.”
Jake ignores the terrible nickname. “Best friends, obviously.” At the look Heeseung gives him, he throws his hands up in the air. “Why doesn’t anyone believe me?”
“Riki is your best friend,” Heeseung tells him slowly like Jake pronounced the sky to be green and the grass blue. He frowns consideringly and adds, “Or I guess Jungwon.”
“Sunoo said that, too.”
“You should listen to Sunoo. He knows what he’s talking about. He likes you the least for a reason.”
Jake jerks his head back at that blunt statement. “Okay?” he half laughs, half scoffs, hurt.
Heeseung winces. “Not like that. Sorry. Sunoo, he…” Heeseung sighs, “He realized the fastest that you weren’t as available as you like to project yourself to be. Like, he had feelings for you, yeah, but it’s mostly in the past. The rest of us can’t really say the same.”
Jake digs the heels of his hands into his eyes. He shakes his head, laughing in disbelief, “Okay. Like having feelings for me is a curse or something. Jesus. Fine.”
Heeseung makes a distressed sound, gripping his shoulder. “Jake, that’s not what I—”
“Just tell me one thing,” This time it is Jake’s turn to interrupt, “If I returned your interest, would you take me? If I wanted you like you wanted me, would you date me?”
“If I was thinking with my heart…”
“No, if you were thinking responsibly,” Jake qualifies.
“Well,” Heeseung draws in a big breath, looking off to the side, “I would have.”
“But now?”
“I mean, if I was being responsible with my emotions,” Heeseung hesitates, darting an apprehensive glance at him, “Knowing what I know now… I probably shouldn’t.”
“Yeah,” Jake chokes on a laugh, a lump tightening his throat to the point of pain. He presses his palm over his sternum, trying to ease the painful constriction of his chest, “I figured you would say that. Hyung, be honest with me. You keep saying it’s me, but really it’s you, right? You’re the one who is breaking up with me.”
Heeseung’s expression twists, his eyes softening as Jake’s fill with tears. “Ah, Jaeyun,” he says gently, his arms reaching out to pull him into his lap, his embrace infinitely tender, “Hyung can’t get anything past you.”
“You’re such a fucking dick,” Jake sobs, “Worst lay of my life. Who fucks someone, talks about knocking them up, and then breaks up with them?”
Heeseung hums sympathetically, patting his back. “I thought you said we weren’t dating.”
“You’re going to hell,” Jake seethes, coughing on his tears, “You’re so going to hell, you bastard.”
Heeseung laughs but it’s a weak stream of air, and his voice comes out thin when he says, “Don’t cry, Jake. Hyung’s sorry. Hyung can’t take it when you cry. It hurts my heart.”
“Then don’t make me cry,” Jake snaps, wiping his nose on Heeseung’s shirt. Heeseung grimaces but keeps silent. He pets Jake’s hair instead, pushing his bangs back to kiss his forehead. He rests the side of his head on top of Jake’s after, letting him bury his face against his neck.
Jake hiccups as his tears dry up, embarrassed to be shedding them over a man. Over Lee Heeseung, who is at the core of him a loser. An attractive and talented one, sure, but a loser all the same. The most exciting thing about Lee Heeseung off-stage is the Toy Story memorabilia he collects and his inability to complete Lego sets without help.
Jake shifts. His legs are bracketing Heeseung which means—
“I think I’m getting cum on your sweatpants.”
“It’s fine.”
“It better be fine ‘cause it’s your cum.”
Heeseung snorts, digging his chin into Jake’s skull in reprimand. “Has anyone ever told you that you get so aggressive when you’re emotional.”
“Yes. You. Many times.”
“I’ll run you a bath if you promise to calm down,” Heeseung offers the way you would bribe a dog into going to the vet with treats.
“And massage my legs,” Jake says.
“What did your legs even do?”
Jake lets his breath hitch like he’s about to start crying again and Heeseung hurriedly covers his mouth with a hand, “Okay, okay. No need for that. I’ll massage your legs.”
Jake licks his palm. His smile at Heeseung scrunching his face in disgust drops away when Heeseung smears his palm clean on his cheek. Jake is not a violent person, but he bats his hand away with force and has to restrain himself from responding out of reflex because he would have surely ended up slapping Heeseung.
“Do you want me to tell Jungwon that you made me cry?”
Heeseung dumps him on the bed and stands up. “God. Can’t you take a joke?”
“I can take a joke,” Jake says flatly, crossing his arms, “You wanna hear a joke?”
“Okay, you’re done,” Heeseung says and then just. Scoops him up and tosses him over his shoulder.
“This isn’t a drama! Put me down!” Jake shouts though he doesn’t struggle too much out of fear that Heeseung will drop him because Jake is small but not that small and Heeseung is strong but not that strong.
“Stop moving or you’ll hit yourself on the doorframe.” Heeseung follows that up with a slap to his ass and Jake falls limp with an outraged noise. Heeseung’s shoulder is lowkey digging into his dick and it lowkey hurts but he’s set down on his feet in the bathroom before he can complain.
“I want Sunghoon’s scented shit in my bath,” Jake says.
“Really?” Heeseung raises an eyebrow, a teasing smirk pulling at his mouth, “You don’t want to smell like your—”
“Shut up.”
Heeseung holds his hands up, backing off. He grabs the scented salts Sunghoon pretends to dislike because Sunoo put him on them and his favorite pastime is finding ways to get under Sunoo’s skin.
Jake takes a seat on the toilet, mostly so he doesn’t get cum on the floor, while Heeseung fiddles with the knobs. One of the best things about moving into the new dorms was getting a bathtub on each floor. Jake doesn’t use it as often as some of the others because he is the type to be in and out of the shower, but he does take the occasional half-bath to help his circulation.
The bathtub is filling up steadily. Heeseung comes to crouch in front of him, hands clasped, arms resting on his knees. Jake rests his face in his hands glumly, elbows digging into his legs. Their line of sight levels out like this. Heeseung smiles at him, fond if not a little sad, lips twisted to one side.
He brushes Jake’s bangs out of his eyes for him when he blinks rapidly and tries to blow them away himself. His fingers trail down Jake’s face, lingering at his jaw before falling aside. “I want you to be happy, Jake, more than anything,” Heeseung says quietly, “I hope you let yourself be happy.”
“Let myself be happy,” Jake snorts.
“You know what I mean,” Heeseung admonishes, “You have a pathologic need for all of us to like you. I hope you realize that committing to just one person for once will make you happier in the long run.”
“Your pillow talk sucks,” Jake mumbles, staring at the bathroom floor, hands shoved up into his hair and clutching at the roots.
“I’m sorry, Jake.” Heeseung stretches towards him to press his mouth to the crown of his head. He speaks into his hair there, “It didn’t seem like anyone else was willing to tell you plainly,” then moves back.
Jake interlinks his fingers and rests the bridge of them over the back of his neck. “Worst lay of my entire life, by the way.”
“Sorry,” Heeseung looks genuinely apologetic, “Originally I was planning to talk about it a little later today but it just… came out.”
“I guess. But since we talked about it now instead, I don’t want to talk about it anymore today,” Jake tells him.
“Sounds fair. Ramyeon after the bath?” Heeseung asks, standing to check on the water level.
“Yeah. Should I make Bokkeum Neoguri?”
“You like Shin best, let’s do that.”
“Okay,” Jake says, resting his chin in his hands. “Hyung,” he calls lightly while Heeseung tests the water temperature.
“Uh?” Heeseung glances over his shoulder in question, eyebrow raised with a half-smile.
“Are we… okay? Are we okay?”
Heeseung straightens up, eyebrow lowering, and the half-smile blossoms into a full one. “Of course. You wish you could get rid of me that easily, Jake.”
Everyone else chooses to grab dinner outside. Sunghoon, who prefers to take a shower as soon as he can after traveling and therefore has opted to have room service instead of dining out, shoots Jake a suspicious look when he also bows out.
“What do you want?” he asks at a whisper the moment there is five feet between them and the rest of the guys. Doesn’t even wait for them to leave. Jungwon, who has the ears of a bat—or whichever other animal with exceptional hearing—glances at them with a narrowed gaze.
“You’re going to get me in trouble,” Jake hisses back. Sunghoon is good at discerning when one of them is doing something they’re not supposed to due to his proclivity towards silently cataloging all of their behaviors. Jungwon knows this well and tends to rule how deep in shit they are by Sunghoon’s reaction if he doesn’t have his own firsthand account of the situation.
So his accusatory tone is nothing less than blood in the water and Jungwon hones in on it immediately. Jake musters up an innocent smile, slinging his arm around Sunghoon’s shoulder and snuggling up to him. As expected, Sunghoon’s skeptical expression softens up like clockwork and he fits his own arm around Jake’s waist, patting it.
Jungwon eyes them a moment longer. Whatever he finds must not be worrisome enough to keep him from dinner though, because he sighs and hurries after the others’ retreating backs, grabbing Jay by the upper arm. Jay glances back in confusion until he realizes it’s Jungwon. Then he smiles and hooks their arms together.
Jake and Sunghoon stand there and watch until the entrance doors close behind their members. Still watching the frosted, automatic doors, Sunghoon says, “You’re a manipulative dick.”
“You’re just weak,” Jake says, turning away with a shrug, “Help me find Jay’s luggage.”
Sunghoon scoffs in disgust, “Ugh, of course. Should’ve known.”
Their luggage had gone up ahead of them, delivered to the rooms booked for them before their senior manager could either instruct the hotel porters which bags go where or be informed on which ones were going where. With a weary tone, he had explained to them that they were going to have to do some guess and check to find the right rooms.
He had gone along with the rest of their group to dinner first, however, and had handed over the room cards to Sunghoon earlier with strict instructions to keep them safe, Jungwon issuing a mild death threat if Sunghoon lost them.
They find Jake’s luggage first, in a solo room. The idea of a solo room is honestly so tempting that Jake almost quits his endeavor right then and there. He’s been sharing with either Riki or Sunghoon the last few stops and as much as he loves them, a single room sounds wonderful.
But, no. He has a Plan.
Jay’s luggage is in the other single room. When Sunghoon sees that, he groans into his hands. “We have to move four different people.”
“It’s not that bad,” Jake tries to sound upbeat but there is something incredibly tedious about shuffling luggage around.
When they find the room with Sunghoon’s stuff—he had claimed that the least he deserved was a solo room out of this, which is valid—Sunghoon makes the mistake of grabbing Riki’s things.
He hefts the bag up and widens his eyes. “What the hell did he put in here, bricks? Barbells?”
“No takebacks,” Jake says hurriedly, snatching up Sunghoon’s reasonably weighted luggage. He grabs the door for him though, because he feels bad, using his body as a doorstop since these ones are heavy and designed to shut fast.
“All this,” Sunghoon mutters unfavorably under his breath, trudging down the hall with his burden, “for dick.”
“True love,” Jake corrects. Sunghoon releases the suitcase handle to slap the back of his head.
It takes them much longer than it should to sort the luggage into the right rooms and Jake nearly pulls something in his back.
“Thanks for your help,” he says after depositing his things by the bed he claimed, turning to look at Sunghoon. He must have stepped closer without Jake realizing because he nearly knocks into his chest. Sunghoon grabs his elbow to steady him.
Jake wavers for a moment, but decides to say fuck it and darts forward to drop a kiss on his cheek. Sunghoon blinks once, stiffening in shock, though he reacts by reflex to snag Jake’s waist before he can flee.
Jake groans, dropping his head into his hands, embarrassed in the aftermath. There is little more than an inch between him and Sunghoon and he eventually sighs and leans on him. Sunghoon stumbles slightly at the sudden weight, but his other hand comes up and finds the small of his back to hold him there against him.
“What was that?”
“Just. As thanks. You know.”
“So if I do something even nicer for you next time, are you going to kiss me on the mouth with tongue?”
Jake hits him on the shoulder and Sunghoon winces through his laughter. He fits his palm against the side of Jake’s throat, using his thumb to tilt his chin up. Jake flinches, ticklish, trapping Sunghoon’s hand between his head and shoulder.
“Hold still.”
Jake tries. Sunghoon shifts his hand higher, grasping his jaw. His breath skates over Jake’s cheek and he realizes Sunghoon is about to return the kiss. He expects the soft pressure of lips meeting skin but receives a sharp pinch instead. It takes him a moment but the air brushing against his suddenly cool cheek puts it together for him.
“Did you—You just fucking bit me!” Jake shrieks. He shoves at his chest but Sunghoon is already backing away and it has little effect. He grins wide, showing off his fangs, mirth written all over his stupid, handsome face. Jake resists the urge to punch him, scrubbing at his cheek with the sleeve of his shirt and complaining about the spit.
“Don’t sulk, Ikeu,” Sunghoon says from the door, halfway out.
He flips him off. Sunghoon snorts and lets it fall shut. Jake wheels around and studies the empty room, then nods to himself and sets off for the bathroom. With the dust of a long day of travel on him, he is ready to take the longest shower known to mankind.
By the time he steps out, wraps himself in a bathrobe, and towels off, the mirror is clouded with steam and Jay has returned from dinner. He is lying on the bed Jake already claimed for himself, flopped on top of the covers with his arms splayed out and his lower legs hanging off the end of the bed.
Jake takes a seat above his head, legs tucked to the side. He adjusts his bathrobe to cover his lap then reaches out to card his fingers through Jay’s hair. He does it slowly, letting his fingers sink all the way in and scratch lightly at his scalp, the way Jay has liked him to do it since I-Land.
Jake readjusts to sit sideways to Jay, lifting his head up to scoot under him and rest it on his thigh. Jay turns onto his side, nose brushing the cotton of his bathrobe that covers his stomach. Jake holds his breath until Jay deflates with a long, audible exhale through his nose, nuzzling his cheek into his thigh. Having made himself comfortable he falls still and Jake resumes petting his hair.
He snags on a few tangles and combs them out patiently. Jay twitches with a low noise when he tugs too hard at one. “Sorry,” Jake winces, gentle fingers brushing over his temple and ear in apology, “Sorry, sorry.”
Jay reaches up and catches his hand, pulling it away to tangle their fingers together. He gets his elbow under him, then pushes up higher to his palm. He squeezes Jake’s hand once then drops it to get a grip around the back of his neck, reeling him in.
“Mmph,” Jake says. Jay takes it as an invitation to slide his tongue in his mouth. Jake immediately closes his lips around it, sucking. A groan bubbles up in Jay’s throat and he shoves his hand under Jake’s bathrobe, fingers digging into his thigh. He licks behind Jake’s teeth and at his tongue, hand climbing higher and higher until it freezes.
He draws away all at once, their lips parting with a slick pop. “You don’t have anything on.”
Jake nods, and shrugs half-heartedly when Jay frowns. “It’s just us in the room. I didn’t think you were gonna put your hand under my robe.”
Jay squeezes his bare hip and Jake jolts. Eyebrows raising, Jay does it again, harder, keeping the pressure and pressing his thumb into the crease of his hip. Jake clenches his thighs shut, swallowing.
Jay leaves his hip alone to go for the knotted belt and Jake doesn’t stop him but he does use his hands to hold the robe shut over his lap. “Lift your arms,” Jay says once he has the robe peeled down his shoulders. Jake straight-up whimpers, feeling shy.
Jay waits patiently for him to get over it. Jake compromises by lifting one hand at a time so he can use the other to keep the robe closed. The fabric pools around him once it slips off his arms, and he feels a bit coy, covered up only where it really matters.
Feeling unfairly exposed, he juts his chin out at Jay. “Take your shirt off.”
Jay reclines on his heels and easily tugs his shirt over his head, dropping it to the ground. Jake nods downwards, “Pants, too.”
For this, Jay climbs off the bed to unbuckle his belt and lay it carefully on the nightstand, popping open the button and undoing the fly with a deftness that really, really should not be as hot as Jake finds it. He’s left with gray boxer briefs that hide nothing and strike an urge in Jake to get on his knees.
He whines, fingers clawed into the cotton in his lap. “If I didn’t need my voice to do my job, I would suck your dick so good right now. I hope you know that.”
“Jesus,” Jay says, shaking his head. Glancing to the side, he asks, “Do you have lube?’
“Do you not have lube?” Jake replies.
“I do, but your stuff’s closer,” Jay nods at where he is looking, which Jake finds to be his open suitcase and bag sitting by the end of the bed.
Jake narrows his eyes at him. “So you knew this was my bed and you still slept on it with your travel clothes on.”
That makes Jay crack a smile. Of course pissing Jake off is what draws the first smile out of Jay. “You,” Jake sighs loudly, dropping his head back, “are so irritating.” To the ceiling, he asks, “Why do I like you?”
He lifts his head when he hears Jay rooting around in his suitcase. “The corner, the blue pouch,” he directs and Jay unzips it to find the lube, a small bottle inconspicuously marketed as an aloe gel.
His hands have fallen away from the bathrobe which is why there is no barrier in the way when Jay pulls it away, tossing it to the other side of the bed. Jake yelps, both at the sudden action and the rush of cold air. He draws his knees up, glaring at Jay, “Fucking warn me, idiot.”
Jay hardly seems to register that he spoke. He shoves Jake’s knees open and takes his time drinking him in, palms warm on the inside of his thighs. His eyes lift up to Jake’s with a question, “Did you clean up?”
Jake feels his face redden. “Yeah,” he mumbles.
“Good boy,” Jay says. He bats at Jay for that but his dick betrays him and twitches. Stupid praise kink. Stupid deep, sexy voice.
Jay kisses him again. His lips are chapped from the plane and a lack of his favorite Lucas Papaw balm that Jake had to hear him complain about forgetting at the dorms for nearly ten minutes on their drive to the airport. A particularly dried flap of skin scrapes Jake’s lips. For a split second, he considers biting it off and then nearly gags at his own thought. What the fuck is Jay doing to him?
Before he can blink, Jay flattens him on the bed. “I just showered,” he says conversationally. Jay grinds against him in response, cotton dragging over his sensitive cock. “Good point,” Jake chokes out.
Jay backs off him and reaches for the lube he discarded to the side. His hair, honey blonde and free of gel for once falls into his eyes. His blonde phase has been especially torturous for Jake. As if it wasn’t enough that Jay looks like that—read: painfully fucking attractive—all the time, he had the nerve to bleach his hair a shade that only enhances his sharp features and perfectly compliments his tanned skin.
Distracted by admiring the sharp cut of Jay’s jaw, Jake flinches when he runs a cool finger down his perineum. It presses up against the furl of his hole and slips inside, just the tip. Jay rubs the thumb of his free hand along the underside of Jake’s cock, targeting that sensitive spot beneath the tip. Jake moans loud and unashamed, the muscles in his abdomen tensing.
Jay brings himself level to Jake’s balls, sucking at one of them. “I appreciate it,” Jake says, admittedly a little amused, “but that does nothing for me.” That gives Jay pause and he glances up with obvious surprise, but then shrugs—mostly to himself—and abandons that path.
His finger slides in all the way once Jake stops clenching. Jay must notice that Jake barely has a reaction to one because he immediately wriggles a second in, following closely behind with a third.
Jake swallows the spit pooling behind his tongue, feeling so good he kind of wants to sink into the bed and live forever in this cloud of pleasure that lines every inch of his skin. Jay’s back is warm under his calves, shoulders broad enough to comfortably support his thighs. Jake hooks his feet together, both hands buried in his hair.
Jay thrusts his fingers steadily, curved up to drag against his walls, and laps at his frenulum, dragging his tongue up occasionally to dig into his slit and down to suck at the root. Jake could die happily.
“I don’t think these walls are soundproof.” His lips brush against Jake when he speaks, wet with spit but still chapped, the rough patches dragging over the sensitive skin of his cock. His thighs clamp down on Jay’s ears, cock twitching against his mouth. Jay feels it and grins, peering up the plane of Jake’s body to meet his eyes with a cocky gaze.
Jake squeezes his eyes shut, head slamming back against the pillow, because if he looks at Jay any longer he may come in three seconds.
One of his legs is lifted up from Jay’s shoulders and folded towards his chest. “Hold them up,” comes the order. Jake reaches out blindly to grab the backs of both thighs, simultaneously trying to rock down on the fingers that have stilled inside of him. “Jake—Jesus, wait. Are you seriously that desperate?”
“Did you just call me a slut?”
Jay huffs. “That word didn’t even leave my mouth.”
He presses down harder on his thigh until it meets his chest. Jake grunts, tensing at the stretch. “Shit, let up. My legs don’t bend like that.”
“Your flexibility is awful.”
“Shut up when I’m letting you hit.”
Jay reaches over to snag a pillow and has him lift up his hips to slide it under his ass. It leaves Jake a lot more exposed than he expected. But Jay occupies the space once again, warm touch sliding over his hips and ass. His fingers return to their rightful place, three fingers deep in his ass. Jake closes his eyes with a slow exhale through his mouth.
His grip on his thighs almost slips when something wet prods at his rim, fingers spreading to make room for it to enter. “Fuck,” Jake hisses, resisting the instinct to snap his legs shut.
Jay doesn’t force more than the tip of his tongue inside, flexing his fingers, tapping at his prostate. Jake bites his lip until it throbs, a tremble starting up in his leg. He risks a glance at Jay and sees him with his eyebrows furrowed like they do when he’s focused, except instead of producing or editing or cooking, he’s intent on eating Jake out.
More precum spills onto his abs, already glistening shamefully with a puddle of it. Both of his legs are trembling now, hands slippery with sweat, fingers digging into his skin to keep them up.
“Jay, please,” Jake whimpers, tears forming in his eyes because Jay refuses to work him any faster, building up his orgasm at a steady incline that is driving him crazy. On his own, he tends to get himself off messy and quick, letting it hit him hard. Breathlessly, maybe a little painfully, wearing the skin off his dick or abusing his prostate.
This is… This is worshipful. Jay is taking his time with him, loyally stroking at his walls and teasing at his rim, until Jake is clenching at every pass but so loose it barely makes a difference. His tongue reaches a little deeper than before, letting Jake really feel the width of it.
“Shit,” Jake whines. Something in his hamstrings twinges from the tension in his body. His balls tighten, precum dribbling out in rivulets. He’s so wet. Jay kept reapplying lube even after it became excessive and it is smeared over his ass, inner thighs, everywhere, shining obnoxiously. “Shit, shit, shit. Jay, touch me. Just once, just a little. Please, Jay.”
The hand palming at his ass shifts inwards, and Jay uses that thumb to tug his rim upwards, pulling him open. His fingers twist around, now pointing towards Jake’s back. Jay hooks them down, making him gape, then shoves his tongue in as far as it will go.
Jake lets out a strangled moan, blood rushing to his ears as he spurts all over his stomach. His hands lose their strength and his thighs slip free. They try their best to close but Jay obstructs their attempt, rubbing slow circles with the pads of his fingers and mouthing at his perineum to stimulate his prostate from the outside.
He thinks he’s wheezing. His heartbeat is pounding, fucking hammering, in his throat and in his groin. Jake maneuvers a shaking leg to shove at the side of Jay’s head with his foot. “I’m done. I quit, I quit,” he gasps, breathy because no matter how much air he gulps down, it doesn’t seem to be enough.
Jay’s face appears from between his legs, wet from the nose down. Rationally, Jake knows the shine is due to the lube smeared on his ass but his fuzzy, post-orgasm brain can only recall Heeseung calling his ass a cunt as if, without Jake knowing, Heeseung had managed to brainwash him into some new kinks.
It was only one fuck, but it holds a surprising amount of repercussions.
His hamstrings ache. Jake melts into the bed, every bone in his body liquified. Jay kneels up. Jake is incredibly gratified to see a splotch of darkened gray fabric where the tip of his cock strains his underwear.
“Okay. Compromise,” Jake says, “I only put an inch in my mouth so my voice doesn’t get fucked up.”
Jay rubs his thumb over an eyebrow, a tolerant expression pulling at his features. “Compromise suggests that I asked you to use your mouth. You decided that all on your own.”
“Semantics.”
“Not…really,” Jay sighs out but from the way he deflates on the second word, he obviously gave up the fight before it could begin, “Fine. What do you want to do?”
Marry you, Jake thinks. In every country it’s legal.
“Suck you off,” is what actually makes it out. “Sit on the side of the bed. And don’t judge my skills based on today.”
“I’m not going to judge your ability to give head.”
Jake pauses in climbing off the bed. Well, tumbling, since his legs have the strength of a newborn fawn. “Only people bad at giving head say that.”
Jay sighs louder this time. “Stand up without your legs shaking first before commenting on my abilities.”
Fair enough. He says as much, “Touché. Also, can you get me a towel.”
“Ah,” Jay spots the same problem Jake did, namely the mess on his stomach that is slowly trickling down, “Yeah, hold on.”
Instead of handing the towel over to Jake once he returns, he cleans his torso for him. “Have I mentioned recently how nice your body is,” Jay says, leaning back to observe him from a wider angle.
“It’s all yours,” Jake tilts his head, teeth digging into his lower lip.
Eyes flicking up to his for a moment, Jay nods with a low—and what Jake hopes is approving—hum. His hand settles on his abdomen for a moment, warm and a touch possessive? Perhaps? A guy can dream. Jay pats his stomach with something like affection, then levers himself up to situate himself on the edge of the bed. His legs part to make room for Jake and he offers up the pillow that was sacrificed to Jake’s ass so he has a cushion for his knees.
“Why are these still on?” Jake grumbles, tugging at the waistband of Jay’s underwear. “Get your dick out.”
“You really know how to seduce a guy.”
“Why do I need to seduce you?” Jake glances up through the fan of his eyelashes, asking with purposeful carelessness, “Aren’t you, like, in love with me or something?”
Jay looks at him with an unreadable gaze, thumbing at his waistband. Eventually, he breaks the stillness to draw his boxer briefs off without saying a word. Jake swallows, then swallows again.
It’s not that he doubts Jay loves him. Jake would have to be kidding himself to think anything else when the only way Jay knows how to wear his emotions is on his sleeve. But love is no sure thing, no panacea.
Just look at him and Sunghoon. They may have retirement plans and couple’s rings but, Jesus fuck, Sunghoon didn’t even want to date him.
Hell, look at him and Heeseung. Jake may never find someone more entranced by him than Heeseung is—was?—but in the end, it was Heeseung who dumped him and they weren’t even together.
And Jay? Jay loves him, just like Heeseung, just like Sunghoon, but Jake has the creeping worry that there is something fundamentally wrong with him if loving him seems to be a burden more than anything else.
Because isn’t there something wrong with him if everyone knows Riki has a crush on him but the reason it goes unspoken is because no one really trusts Jake with their maknae’s heart. Isn’t there something wrong with him if Sunoo had come clean about having liked Jake, stressing the past tense, like he was coming clean about having acquired but successfully beaten an STD.
Isn’t there at least something if Jungwon had decided that seeking out more with Jake would cost him mental peace he could not afford to spend, not because he was worried about their career as idols but because he was worried Jake would bring out the worst in him.
(They had told no one about this incident because no one had noticed—Jungwon is excellent at maintaining civility and Jake is a master at willfully ignoring anything that hurts him. What had happened was:
Jungwon had kissed him. Jake had kissed him back. Jungwon had broken it off in a panic and said, “I didn’t mean to do that.” Jake, naively optimistic then but only for a moment more, had smiled and said, “It’s okay. I want you to do it again.” Jungwon had paled and replied, “That’s not going to happen, Jake hyung.”
Jake had frowned and asked, “Why? Don’t you like me?” Jungwon had shaken his head, “That’s not the problem.”
“Then what is?” Jake had wondered. “Everyone likes you,” Jungwon had said, “and you like that they do. I wouldn’t be able to stand it.”
“Are you saying that I wouldn’t be loyal?” Jake had asked. Something cold and sore had expanded beneath his sternum and made his stomach feel sick. Jungwon had looked at him with pity, “No, that’s not what I mean. I’m just too possessive, hyung, and I would want all of you.”
“But you would have all of me,” Jake had said in a lost little voice. But Jungwon had not believed him even if he had not said as much out loud, and so the next day, they had pretended as though nothing happened. Jake had chosen to block it out so thoroughly that most days it truly was like it never even happened.)
“Where did you go?”
A gentle hand slides under his chin. Jake startles back to the present, peeling his gaze from where it was zoning out on Jay’s knee to meet his curious eyes. Jake’s fingers curl, clench, flex open, and repeat until he directs them to wrap around Jay’s ankle. His eyes widen at the touch, thrown-off by the rather subservient gesture.
His feet shift against the wood floor as if to free themselves from Jake’s grasp but he squeezes once and Jay stills. “Do you,” Jake begins, lower lip quivering ever so slightly, “think I’m too greedy?”
The hand under his chin drifts up to cup his cheek. Jay leans down to level their eyes. “I don’t think I could give you enough.”
The tears welling up sting Jake’s nose, “Do you believe that I could be yours, every part of me?”
Jay shakes his head, leaning in and resting their foreheads together. Both hands cradle his face now. “I think I would take anything you were willing to give me.”
Jake presses his lips together tightly, swallowing past the painful lump in his throat. His eyes blur until he can longer make out Jay’s face and he blinks. A tear spills over. When he trusts his voice not to break, he whispers, “I don’t want anyone else. I just want you. Do you believe that? Do you believe me?”
Jay’s eyelids flutter shut. Salt running over his lips, Jake chokes on a cry, “Tell me—Tell me you believe me. Tell me you—Please—Please, Jay.”
In concern, Jay snaps his eyes open and squeezes the back of Jake’s neck, “Hey hey, shh, it’s okay. I believe you. I believe you,” he repeats firmly. He uses the side of his hand to wipe his cheeks, “Why these tears? Don’t cry. There’s nothing to cry for.”
“I tied up all the loose ends,” Jake tells him on a stuttering breath. He wants Jay to understand how serious he is. “I know that I—I liked the attention too much, but I finally put a stop to things. No one else has me now, just you. If you want me.” And then a little more quietly, “No one else does, anyway.”
“All this drama just to tell me you like me,” Jay tuts, using the corner of the discarded towel to clean his face, “I’m not the others, Jake. I never agreed with how they made it seem like it was your fault they had feelings for you. I don’t regret liking you and I’m not going to stop even if you don’t want me.”
“I did—I did lead some of them on. At least a little,” Jake admits.
“I’m sure you did,” Jay says plainly, tossing the towel to the side within easy reach. Jake slumps, forehead coming to rest on Jay’s knee. His left hand is still wrapped around Jay’s ankle, though now it is more to ground himself than to still his fidgeting.
He rolls his head to the side, then notices. “You’re not hard anymore.” His tone takes on a confused tinge.
“You were crying about being unlovable. Sorry for not being turned on by that?” Jay sounds incredulous.
“Ah,” Jake says, “Right. Do you still wanna fuck me?”
“No.”
Jake lifts his head up, already frowning, “Why? Am I not attractive anymore?”
Jay shoots him a weary look, “What’s the right answer here.”
“Fucking me.”
“You just cried,” Jay reminds him.
“So?”
“We have a concert.”
“Again, so?”
“Jesus,” Jay calls the Lord’s name for the nth time, rubbing his hands over his face.
“It’s Jake, actually.”
“You’re not funny,” Jay says, “You’re not even kind of funny.”
“But you like me anyway,” Jake teases, expecting some sort of pushback or denial now that the mood has relaxed.
Jay surprises him. “Somehow, yeah. I do,” he says, depreciating but earnest in that painfully vulnerable way Jay can be.
“Oh.” Jake blinks and looks away, flustered by his sincerity. He can almost hear Jay’s amused smile. “You can’t just say that,” he whines.
“What, the truth?”
Jake shoots him a light glare, “You know what I mean.”
Jay reaches down to grab his upper arms. “Get up from the floor,” he says, “You’re not blowing anyone today.”
“But you didn’t come,” Jake pouts, stumbling when Jay yanks him up faster than he can get his feet under himself.
“We can figure something else out,” Jay says.
Jake climbs onto the mattress and starfishes out behind Jay’s back, “I’m down for whatever.”
Jay peers over his shoulder, “I know you are down for whatever. I’m trying to figure out what I want.”
Jake frowns at the ceiling. “Rude.”
“But not wrong.”
“But not wrong,” Jake concedes, smiling when Jay leans over into his line of sight. “What’s up?”
“The sky.”
His smile falls. “You’re not funny, Jay.”
“But you like me so much you’re willing to commit.”
“No…” Jake grumbles, looking at some point on the ceiling beside his ear. Jay leans in until his face steals up his entire vision, an inch between their noses. Jake wets his lips, waiting to see what his next move is.
“Stop looking elsewhere.”
“How can I when you’re the only thing I can see,” Jake fires back.
“Good,” Jay says and then kisses him.
Unlike earlier, he is neither gentle nor slow. His teeth sink into Jake’s bottom lip and his hand grabs his throat, thumb pressed into his windpipe. Jake can only open his mouth to him and let him plunder inside, moans unobstructed though they are immediately swallowed up.
Jake winces when Jay shifts and accidentally grinds against him. He needs another ten minutes minimum before he even tries for another round. His legs tighten on either side of Jay, knees digging into his ribs.
“Sorry,” Jay murmurs, realizing. He lifts his hips up, putting space between their groins and Jake brings his thighs together to form another barrier.
An idea suddenly comes to mind. “You can—My thighs,” Jake suggests, “Fuck my thighs.”
Jay leaves off his lips long enough to catch his gaze. “Sure?”
“Sure,” Jake nods. He watches Jay search the bed for the lube, chewing on his bottom lip, “Plus, it’s kinda hot.”
Jay finds the elusive bottle and turns back to Jake. “You’re really sure?”
“Dude, you’re putting your dick between my thighs, not your fist up my ass. I’m sure. Stop asking.”
Jay says something unflattering under his breath, one hand batting Jake’s legs open without any grace. He smears lube along the inner expanse of his thighs, the carelessness in his actions fading as his eyes darken. He trails circles into Jake’s skin, relenting only when he whines for him to hurry.
He brings Jake’s legs together and hooks his knees over a shoulder, to Jake’s right. His cock rubs up against the seam of his thighs and Jake shivers, unsure of what to do with his hands. Without taking his eyes off of Jay, he pats around blindly until he finds the other pillow, hugging it to his chest.
Jay reaches down to guide himself in, the same concentrated furrow from before between his eyebrows. The head of his cock pushes past the heat of Jake’s slick muscles, a strange pressure against his skin. Jay clenches his jaw at the sensation and Jake has the ridiculous urge to bite the sharp angle of it.
They both watch as his cock appears between Jake’s thighs, a few, flushed inches and pearly at the tip. Jay draws back and pushes in slowly, hips flexing in a smooth roll. Jake breathes out shakily through his nose and squeezes the pillow in his arms, warmth pooling in his stomach. Jay fucks in at a languorous pace a few times, before building up to a steady rhythm.
“That’s so hot,” Jake sighs, “You’re so hot, it’s annoying.”
Jay smirks but otherwise ignores him, crowding forward and bending his legs closer to his chest. It has him grazing his dick with every thrust and Jake groans, burying the lower half of his face in the pillow.
Jay is gratifyingly expressive. His mouth, kiss-red and shiny, parts around soft moans. His eyebrows pull together, flatten out, tick upward, a mini-dialogue of how good he feels. His fingers tighten and flex against Jake’s legs, one hand on his knees and the other arm wrapped around his thighs to hold Jake tight to his abdomen.
He ducks and kisses the side of Jake’s knee, trailing his lips up to the kneecap, lingering there as he breathes unsteadily against his skin. “You feel so fucking good,” Jay murmurs in English, almost as if he’s commenting to himself, and presses another kiss to his knee, “Perfect for me.”
Damn his fucking praise kink. Jake is on cloud nine from just that.
He moves the pillow out of the way, reaching for the lube to wet his palm. He makes a circle with his hand in front of his thighs so the first few inches of Jay’s cock have something warm to fuck into, dragging his thumb over the tip when he gets the chance.
“Yeah, that’s better,” Jay says, still in English, his voice deep and admiring, “Tighten your hand. Good.”
Jake will admit it. He whimpers. A smirk flashes over Jay’s lips, his dark gaze sparking with amusement. “What is it? You need to be told you’re a good boy like a dog?”
“Fuck,” Jake wheezes, covering his red face with the back of his hand. Lube squelches in the other one, frothing up between his fingers. There is a growing stream of lube and precum that has dripped down from Jay and made a mess of his groin.
“Just a little more,” Jay assures him but truthfully Jake would offer every part of himself up without complaint for as long as Jay needed and it scares him. He clings to their cat and mouse antics so he can at least pretend to himself that it’s ever a choice.
“You only last five minutes? That’s going to be a problem.”
Jay rolls his eyes but doesn’t rise to his bait. His eyelids fall shut instead and he breathes through his nose, resting his cheek against Jake’s knee. Fuck. Jake is so in love with him it’s actually kind of pathetic.
In most universes out there, his end game is probably Sunghoon, and the rest are likely Heeseung, but in this one he can’t take his eyes off of Jay long enough to remember why that would be.
Why did he ever think it wouldn’t be Jay and his bad jokes and his gentleman dignity and his bullheaded hard work and his patient kindness? Why did he ever think it wouldn’t be the birthmark on his neck and the fondness in his lopsided smile and the love in his voice? Why did he ever think that he would need more than Jay or to be more for Jay?
That thinking feels so foreign and abstract, looking at him now. It was only ever going to be Jay.
“Here,” Jay says, breaking through his thoughts, voice tight with restraint, “Let me—” But Jake grips tighter around his cock when he starts to pull back, just enough to get his message across, and Jay’s eyes flutter open, brows furrowed in question.
“It’s okay. You can come on me. I want you to.”
Jake shifts his left leg over to Jay’s free shoulder and finally works his hand down to the base, jacking him off at the same pace he was fucking his thighs. “Faster,” Jay instructs, watching his face instead of his hand, which is somehow hotter, “Tighter at the tip.”
Jake bites his lip as he follows the instructions as best he can. The self-assured way Jay orders him around is really doing it for him. He definitely has a competency kink.
“Good,” Jay says thickly, hips stuttering up into his fist, his hands splayed over the tops of his thighs, “Good boy. Keep going.”
Oh, he’s totally talking to Jake like he’s a dog. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His face feels like it’s on fire. The fact that Jake is letting him is even worse. What was it that Heeseung said? All bark, no bite? Jesus Christ.
Jay removes one hand from his thigh to clutch his wrist, holding his hand still as he fucks into it, working himself to an orgasm. His cum spills down Jake’s hand, tracking along the underside of his wrist and down his arm. The rest lands on his stomach, pooling in the lines of his abs.
Jay drops his legs from his shoulders. Jake brings his coated fingers up, taking them into his mouth. Bitter. The texture is truly something else. Jake drags his tongue between each crevice of his fingers, licking them clean. He suctions his mouth around them until he knows his lips look obscene and pulls off with a showy pop.
Jay wipes a spot of drool from the corner of his mouth. “I should try this out next time,” he says like Jake is a toy.
“Fuck,” Jake whispers to himself, voice cracking, “What the fuck.”
Jay raises a hand, palm facing him. “Hold still. Don’t move.” He finds the towel he tossed aside and wipes Jake’s stomach clean for a second time. Pulling back, he says, “You can shower first. I’ll wait.”
Jake nods and rolls over, sliding off the bed feet first. He keeps hands braced against the mattress because his legs locked up in that position over Jay’s shoulder and he has to shake them out. “I’m getting old,” he bemoans.
Jay has already gotten his hands on his phone—it was resting on the nightstand—and he glances up from it at Jake. “You’re twenty-two.”
“Practically ancient.”
“You sound like Sunghoon,” Jay comments absently, thumbs moving over the screen to text someone, probably Jungwon.
“Sunoo says we share the same brain.”
“Sunoo’s right.”
“About a lot of things apparently,” Jake mutters under his breath.
Jay shoots him a curious look but he brushes it aside with a wave of his hand. “I won’t take long in the shower,” Jake says, this time around grabbing some clothes to put on and his bag of toiletries. Jay sees this.
“Were you planning for something to happen once I came back from dinner?” he asks.
Jake walks backwards so he can look at him when he replies, “A magician never reveals his secrets.” He might bang into the doorway of the bathroom because of this but that’s neither here nor there, just like the exasperated look Jay sends his way.
“I’m fine,” he coughs, righting himself.
“Didn’t ask,” Jay says. He’s busy with his phone again.
Wow. And Jake let this guy call him a dog and bust a nut on him. Might as well go dig his pride out and flush it down the toilet while he’s at it. Bad taste in men. Terrible taste in men. Sunoo would probably be the best choice out of the group, but he’d laugh in Jake’s face.
Jay looks up in surprise when he exits the bathroom some fifteen odd minutes later. “That was fast.”
“I said I would be.”
Jay rises from the bed and gestures at it with an idle motion of his hand, “I wouldn’t use this one. We can share my bed.”
“If you need me to sleep with you, just say that,” Jake smirks.
“Forget it. Take the dirty bed, why do I care.”
Jake snorts at how easy it is to work Jay up. It comes more naturally for him than the others, though Sunghoon does give him a run for his money. Except Sunghoon will recognize when Jay is becoming upset and back track, or at least back down, and Jake will keep pushing. Something about it is like catnip to him—the sulky jut of Jay’s lips and chin, the overly-sensitive flatness of his eyes, the serious look on his face that poorly masks his true emotions—he just wants to push and push and push to see if maybe this time… But, no. No matter how upset Jay gets, he never actually snaps at Jake.
“You’d think for a guy who just got off, you’d be mellower.”
“And you’d think you would be less annoying, but I guess miracles don’t happen,” Jay says. But he does take a moment before he heads off to shower to slap Jake’s ass when he bends over his suitcase to put the bottle of lube away, so he can’t be all that pressed.
From the force of the slap, Jake has to catch himself from tumbling over with a hand hastily planted in his suitcase since his legs were spread awkwardly around the sides. He curses, whipping his head around to shoot Jay and his irritating grin a glare.
He packs away the lube and assesses the bed he claimed. Yeah, it’s definitely a lost cause. Jake flops down on Jay’s bed and makes himself comfortable in the center of it.
When Jay trudges out, ruffling his damp hair with a towel, he spies Jake doing his very best starfish impression in a bid to take up as much space as possible and uses the very wet towel to whack his inner thigh.
“Mother fucker,” Jake manages through gritted teeth, curling in on his side and gripping his smarting thigh.
Jay leans in behind him, and he feels the bed dip before a gentle pressure touches the top of his spine. He nearly takes out Jay’s eye when he instinctively jams his elbow back, too grouchy now for the kiss to sweeten him up.
“Jesus. Okay, fine. I won’t touch.”
Jake curls in even tighter on himself, pressing his cheek deeper into the pillow. He knows he’s pouting and he knows he’s overreacting, but the only thing Jay says is, “Where’s your phone. I’ll charge it for you.”
“TV,” Jake mumbles, meaning that it’s on the dresser-thing that sits below the wall-mounted TV.
“Jake,” Jay sighs after he’s plugged their phones in and notified their manager that they’re going to be lights out. The mattress shifts again, this time more evenly as Jay actually slides into bed instead of bracing one knee to reach him. “It didn’t hurt that much, are you going to keep sulking?”
“How would you know how much it hurt?” Jake fires back, dragging the duvet up to his chin.
“Because I know what you sound like when it actually hurts,” Jay says simply.
Jake looks over his shoulder at him, hoping his expression shows his judgment. “You’re so weird. Who says that.”
“Sorry for paying attention to you,” Jay says blandly.
Jake thinks he manages to keep it from showing on his face but his soul has a visceral reaction to that. “So weird,” he reiterates, turning away from him in a huff.
“Whatever,” Jay says, still speaking in that same mild tone that drives Jake insane from how unaffected it sounds. Jake can hear the rustling as he settles into bed and then the quiet he knows so achingly well from the years they spent sharing a room, first as all seven and then just the two of them. If he looks over, Jay will be laying on his back, arms loosely crossed over his stomach, head tilted slightly to the right, and his eyes fully shut. His breathing will be deep and even and slow, because he’s tired enough to slip off to sleep in another five minutes.
And if Jake thinks too hard on the detail with which he knows this, he might have to ask to be put down like a dog from the embarrassment. So he doesn’t, but that means he needs a distraction, which translates to unconsciously fidgeting, and leads to Jay reaching over and slapping his shoulder.
“Stay still,” Jay says.
“Sure,” Jake says, and then doesn’t.
Jay heaves a large breath and Jake peeks over to see, in the faint light from the hotel window, that his eyes are open and focused on the ceiling, though he blinks often and tiredly. Eventually he rolls onto his side, setting his gaze on Jake.
“What’s the problem.”
“Talk to me. I can’t sleep, I need a distraction,” Jake whispers.
“We can talk about your commitment issues if you really want to talk.”
Jake recoils. “Absolutely not.”
“Then shut up and sleep.”
“But I can’t!” Jake despairs, writhing around in bed out of boredom.
Jay sighs wearily and snakes an arm around him, dragging him over and tucking Jake into his front. Jake deflates, resigning himself to this. Thankfully Jay is in a listening mood because he obediently turns onto his back at Jake’s direction and allows him to hitch a leg over his hips, wrap an arm around his waist, and rest his cheek on his chest.
“Is this comfortable?” Jay asks curiously.
“Shut up,” Jake says, “I’ll do what I want.”
“Defensive much,” Jay mutters, already sounding half-asleep.
“Just go to sleep, idiot.”
Jay has to get one last childish word in, however. “You’re the idiot, idiot.”
Not that anyone asked, but Jake would like to think he had a normal childhood. He was born in Korea to two parents who wanted him and worked hard to give him a fulfilling life. He has an older brother who is responsible and kind to the point that Jake has never really understood why people complained about their siblings. He lived in a good neighborhood, went to a good school, and had plenty of friends.
When he was eight, they moved to Australia. They meaning him, his mother, and his older brother. His father kept his job in Korea. He spent long periods away from their family, only returning home (is it even home when you’re barely there?) every few months. Jake remembers that the separation hurt at first. He cannot remember the pain itself anymore, only the knowledge that it ached. At some point, Jake thinks it was when he was nine, soon to turn ten, he learned how to make it stop. He learned how to shut away the pain and discomfort of separation and ignore the hollowness that followed.
The time difference between Cairns and Seoul, and later Brisbane and Seoul, was only one hour. His mother would call his father nearly every day and for the first six months or so, Jake would talk to his father regularly. Then he discovered that the less he talked to his father, the less he thought about him. And the less he thought about him, the less he missed him. And the less he missed him, the less it hurt. So he dipped out of phone calls and video calls, though he waited impatiently for those trips home because he loved his father and his heart was heavy with the constant loss of him.
It was maybe in Year 8 when he figured out how good attention felt. When things like crushes and dating were starting to crop up, novel and intriguing, a form of social currency. The more attention Jake received, the more whispers from his friends about Chloe totally has a crush on you and girls shyly gifting him chocolate on Valentine’s day, the less hollow Jake felt. He hoarded affection and interest and love—real or not—like a particularly gluttonous dragon.
It felt good, it felt so fucking good to look someone in the eye and see the warmth there. To see the adoration they had for him. To know they liked him and would probably do quite a lot for him.
Now Jake is no psychologist. He has these two pieces and he has no idea how they fit together—on one hand, there’s the protective shield around his heart that keeps him from sharing it with people (thank you, Dad), and on the other, is his selfish hunger for attention, for like me, love me, want me.
Becoming an idol and living with a group of guys who, unfortunately for them, happen to be attracted to good-looking men, a criteria Jake fits rather well if he says so himself, is like giving cocaine to a baby. God, the attention. It’s heady. It’s intoxicating. It’s the purest, finest drug and he’s the chronic addict.
The wise thing would be rehab. No one overcomes an addiction overnight, though Jake would like to defend himself by pointing out that he’s worked on cutting off all the extraneous attention-hoarding, i.e., drawing a firm line in the shiftings sands of his relationship with Sunghoon and Heeseung, putting a nail in the coffin of whatever potential Jungwon and Sunoo may or may not have had, and, well… Riki is Riki. Jake really is trying to get better. Jay may be understanding beyond measure, but Jake knows he deserves nothing less than his full devotion, no side quests or distractions.
He has the feeling though, that rather than rehab, he’s only trading one drug for another. He’s putting all his chips on Jay and if it falls through, Jake might just die.
Jake is also lying. Maybe he doesn’t have a Master’s degree in Daddy Issues and a PhD in Attention Whore, but he knows the two pieces and the general shape of the puzzle. Your dad leaves a hole in you and you try and fill it with everyone else. The more people who like you the better. What hurts more? Having twenty people who love you and losing two, or having four and losing one? It’s simple math. It’s common sense. Jake will take his chances with the safety net of a 10:1 ratio over a 4:1 any day.
Which is exactly what frightens him about Jay. That’s why it took him so long to acknowledge what was between them and even longer to act on it. He’s placing all his bets on Jay and if he decides one day that he doesn’t want Jake anymore, nothing is ever going to fill the hole that will leave in him. Every self-defense mechanism Jake has developed from childhood is screaming at the thought of it.
Because love strips you bare, strips you vulnerable. And Jake stopped being that when he was nine years old.
Getting thigh-fucked by your bandmate apparently doesn’t change much about your relationship. They wake up the next morning with Jake tangled up in the blanket he monopolized at some point and Jay sleeping like a corpse being laid to the rest at the very edge of the bed.
“Can’t even share in your sleep,” Jay says once they’re awake enough for things like words and speech.
Jake, still blinking sleep out of his eyes and mid-yawn, leans over and swings a pillow at the back of his head. Jay, probably because he’s in love with Jake or, more likely, because the orgasm has mellowed him out in a very delayed reaction nearly twelve hours later, just accepts the hit with a small grunt.
Sunghoon is a five-year-old at heart—insert something here about pressure for perfection at a young age and an overlooked inner child or whatever, Jake really isn’t a psychologist—so his first response to seeing Jake the next morning is, “Ew.”
And then he offers Jay a fist bump.
Which definitely feels like a hate crime.
The time spent in Taipei passes by without incidents, though Jake does make it a point to pet Jay’s head as many times as he can get away with during the concerts just to see his annoyed stares. With the Taipei concerts on the weekend followed by a flight to Japan for their Beat AX performances on Tuesday and Wednesday, they have no energy to waste on fooling around.
Once they get to Singapore though, Jake thinks, Oh. Something might happen here. The next dates are the following weekend in Macau. That’s enough time to recover from… whatever it is they do.
The first thing that happens though is:
They’re closing up the first day’s concert. Jake is restless and he steps away from the line of his members as Jay raises his mic to speak—“Thank you, lah! Love you, lah!”—heading for an oversized toy wedding ring he finds a few paces back. “…And…” Right as he crouches, a hand grips his left shoulder and another touches his waist, pulling him up, and he obediently drops the ring to stand.
Jay wraps his arm around his shoulders and curves that same hand a little bit under his chin to gesture at him, smiling out at the crowd as he proudly says, “Lay–la!”
Jake swivels his head to stare at him and a second later, Jay does too. There are mere inches between their faces. They both immediately turn away with that same realization. Jay’s words filter in as Jake raises his own mic up, but he can’t bring himself to say anything about the terrible pun as a smile tugs at his mouth and his stomach flutters. Flutters.
He searches the ground instead, ducking his head and crouching to busy himself with a clump of confetti strings. He’s flustered over that stupid joke.
Later, after they’ve washed up and can be found in Sunghoon and Riki’s hotel room because Jake is splitting tonight’s menu with his needy maknae as is custom, and Jungwon is both sharing with Sunghoon and usually never found far from Jake, and Jay is wherever Jungwon is, he brings it up.
The other three have taken over the beds with their food, but Jake and Jay have decided to use the oddly placed table off in the corner of the room. It works in his favor, keeping his conversation with Jay private as long as he minds his volume.
“So… Was the love you lah for me?” Jake asks, trying to get a good grip on his half of the Wagyu beef burger.
“You’re more delusional than the fans,” Jay says without looking up from his noodle dish.
Jake gapes at him for a moment, before shoving the burger in his mouth. He’s glad it tastes good or else it would’ve been salt in the wound. He chews it sullenly and after a few seconds decides that actually he’s upset that it tastes so good because he can’t fully enjoy it.
In the left-most field of his vision, he notices that Sunghoon abruptly stops laughing with the maknaes, straightening up and turning around with a suddenness that makes Riki and Jungwon flinch. His eyes lock onto Jake like he received a telepathic signal. In that instance, he gets it, what his members mean when they call him and Sunghoon creepy and “way too connected, you guys are like those child ghost twins in horror movies that move exactly in sync, and when they open their mouths the same voice comes out of both of them, like it’s freaky, hyung.”
Riki’s words, not Jake’s.
“Ah, Ikeu’s sulking,” Sunghoon says, which he can’t possibly know because Jake has a burger stuffed in his cheeks and the only smidge of expression he could have caught was Jake getting startled by the display of his strange sixth sense. “What did Jay say to you?”
“How do you know that?” Jake asks after swallowing. And why does no one else look surprised that he knows that. It’s like he’s developed a sudden awareness of this… this connection he and Sunghoon have, because half of him is saying this is par for course and the other half is wondering how the hell this could be par for course.
So Sunghoon has just been divining things about Jake from empty air this entire time and everyone else, what, has just nodded and went along with it? How has Jake never realized this?
In response to his question, Jungwon breaks out into an amused yet slightly pitying smile, and Riki snorts. Fuck Jake, then. He modifies it slightly, “How do you know Jay said anything?”
The look on Sunghoon’s face tells him this question is possibly even more stupid. “You always sulk when Jay doesn’t give you the attention or response you want.”
Jake blinks once and then heat floods his entire body. “Forget I fucking asked.” Jungwon and Riki burst out laughing. Sunghoon holds out for a little before his face creases, eyes crinkling and the corner of his lips drawing up, and he turns away, joining them in their laughter at Jake’s expense.
When he dares to glance at Jay, he’s smiling to himself while fishing for a shrimp from his plate. Feeling the weight of his gaze, Jay flicks his own up to catch it, still smiling that private, satisfied sliver of a thing. He pops the shrimp in his mouth, gaze falling aside after a few more seconds.
Jake tears his eyes away from the handsome curve of his lips to yell at Riki because he’s nearly sobbing now, Sunghoon slapping at his back while he hiccups on his own snickers, when literally nothing about it was that funny. Brat.
After the second day’s concert, Jake is in his hotel room when the door opens. He looks up from his phone, draped diagonally over the bed while it charges in the plug above the nightstand, expecting for it to be his roommate for this tour stop, Jungwon. It is Jay.
“Jungwon gave me the card,” he says, before Jake can ask.
“What are you doing here?”
Jake was with the maknaes in Sunoo and Heeseung’s room up until fifteen minutes ago, the rest of the hyung line in Sunghoon and Riki’s. He was planning to head to Jay’s solo room once Sunghoon texted him that Jay left. Seems like that won’t be necessary.
Jay lets the door shut softly, ever the gentleman, and takes a few steps into the room, scanning it absently. Jake’s bed is closer to the door so he doesn’t have to travel far to end up near him.
Slowly, Jay crosses his arms. His shoulders are slightly hunched. Looking at some point above Jake’s head, he asks, “You slept with Heeseung hyung?”
Oh. Jake turns his phone off and sits up. Tilting his head, he says, “You’re not mad about that, are you.”
“I’m not mad,” Jay says unconvincingly, shoulders rising another inch, “But why him before me?”
“Are you jealous?” Jake asks in delight, hopping off the bed to get closer so he can observe this rare expression in full detail, “Aw, Jjongsaeng, don’t sulk. It’s not like he took my virginity or tried to spite you.”
Jay blinks, arms loosening across his chest, “He… didn’t?”
“Try to spite you?” Jake shoots him a weird look because he had been joking with that throw away comment, “Jay-yah, come on. Hyung’s not like that.”
“That’s not—” Jay shakes his head, cutting one hand through the air to nix that idea, “He wasn’t your first time?”
“Oh. Oh, yeah, no, he wasn’t.”
“There is no way you lost your virginity while you were a trainee,” Jay says, frowning. He is finally meeting Jake’s eyes.
Jake nods and shrugs, “I didn’t.”
“What? You said you never dated or messed around in Australia—” Jake fixes him with a pointed stare, eyebrows raised, “—Oh.” Jay closes his eyes tiredly, “Jesus. You and Sunghoon did everything but get married and raise three kids, huh?”
“We wanted to experience the wonders life had to offer,” Jake says.
“Why do I even bother,” Jay mutters, stepping around him and setting his sights on Jungwon’s bed. He doesn’t sound upset as far as Jake can tell, just vaguely exasperated.
It occurs to Jake, “Wait. How do you know that hyung and I…”
“We were talking and he let it slip,” Jay says, relaxing onto the bed with a content groan.
Jake sits on the edge of his bed that faces Jay, “Talking about what?”
“You.”
“You were talking about me?” Jake perks up, kind of liking that idea, “With Sunghoonie, too? Do you guys talk about me often or what, why did I come up?”
“We don’t really talk about you. Today was a one off.” Jake deflates, slumping onto his side and then tipping over onto his back. What a blow to his pride. “Hyung was in the middle of telling me to be careful if we do anything and mentioned you could be loud, but I don’t think he realized what he was saying. I asked him how he knew that and he looked like a deer in headlights.”
Jake snorts because he can picture it clearly.
After a small silence, Jay recollects, “Sunghoon laughed his ass off. I should have figured you and him hooked up from that. He was way too amused.”
Jake considers the ceiling, a solid block of pale green with a white trim. He wishes he could divine the right response from thin air, but his preternatural connection only extends to Sunghoon. He tilts his head to the left, towards Jay, and finds him already looking back.
“There’s nothing there, you know,” he says. Afraid that he’s being too harsh to Sunghoon and Heeseung even though they aren’t present, he softens it up with, “Nothing that matters now, I mean.”
Jay’s eyebrows furrow, an uncertain smile twitching at his lips. “I know that, Jake,” he breathes out a laugh, “You don’t have to keep reminding me.”
“Right,” Jake says hoarsely, refocusing on the ceiling, “Right, okay.”
His phone buzzes on the bed, near his right shoulder. He reaches up with the opposite hand to grab it. A text from Jungwon has his screen lit up and the phone unlocks with little prompting using Face ID.
Jungwonie
hyung
are you guys dating
Jakey hyung
What?
Jungwonie
are you guys dating
Jakey hyung
No
Jungwonie
okay
“Jungwon just asked me if we’re dating,” Jake announces.
Jay makes a noise of acknowledgement. When Jake glances over, he has his hands crossed on the pillow above his head, eyes closed. Jake had expected him to say something about how ridiculous a question that is, but when all he receives is silence, he grows unsure.
“Are… we dating?”
Jay slits an eye open and angles his head to stare at him. Jake can read how unimpressed he is from that look. “Yes,” he says eventually, closing his eye and turning over onto his side towards Jake. Jake studies his face a little longer before picking his phone back up.
Jakey hyung
Or not I guess
Apparently we are
Jungwon replies near instantly.
Jungwonie
i know
i figured it would take you a second
Jakey hyung
Okay damn
Why ask then
Jungwonie
just curious how long it would take
Jakey hyung
You’re a menace
You’re lucky you’re cute
Jungwonie
you know something i noticed
Jakey hyung
What’s that
Jungwonie
you and jay hyung bicker a lot but he listens to you well
you’re like a professional jay wrangler
Jakey hyung
You think so?
Jungwonie
yeah
sometimes hyung gets a little obnoxious when he’s hyper so you reel him in
Jakey hyung
I guess so
Jungwonie
like today during the live
when hyung was being loud and you grabbed his chin
Jakey hyung
To be fair
I don’t know why I did that
Like that wasn’t
It was spur of the moment
Jungwonie
okay? defensive much
i wasn’t saying anything about that ㅋㅋ
my point was he stopped and didn’t bicker with you about it
he listens when it matters
Jakey hyung
That’s true
I can add babysitter to the job list ig
Jungwonie
sunoo hyung and niki said to tell you that you act like an exasperated wife with jay hyung
i agree
you guys behave like an old married couple
jay hyung is the husband who is just trying his best and you’re the wife who complains about everything he does
Jakey hyung
Well I wouldn’t HAVE to if he just did it properly the first time
Damn
I’m just proving your point aren’t I
Hey wait
Why the fuck am I the wife
Jungwonie
hyung…
Jakey hyung
Don’t hyung me
Jungwonie
hyung seriously 🙄
Jakey hyung
I know that’s you Niki
Give Jungwon his phone back
Jungwonie
wtf..
how did you know
actually idc point is
youre totally the wife
Jakey hyung
This is incredibly heteronormative
Jungwonie
idk what that means
Jakey hyung
…
Forget it
So.
Nothing happens.
They go to sleep in their separate beds after Jay borrows some clothes from him, and depart from Singapore in the morning. Three days later they’re in Macau.
Actually—one thing happened. When they woke up that next morning, they had stumbled bleary-eyed towards the bathroom at the same time. They had nearly collided in the doorway, Jake half-blind with one hand rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, but Jay had grabbed his waist from the back to steady them. Then he’d dropped a kiss on his neck, right in the juncture of it, and said against the skin there, “Sorry. Go ahead. I’ll get ready in my room.”
He had left without a second thought or an acknowledgement of the damage he’d wrought, but Jake had stood there frozen in the doorway, hand still pressed to his eye, for nearly five minutes. When he had made it into the bathroom, his reflection had been a deeply flustered shade of red.
Even now, thinking of that gentle pressure on the sensitive skin of his neck has him breaking out in goosebumps, stomach swooning and fluttering with a giddiness that makes him feel fifteen all over again.
In Macau, Jungwon puts them in a room together. Or more accurately, Heeseung walks into the room they’re sharing for the stop, takes one look at his face, and walks back out after collecting his things. Ten oddish minutes later, Jay enters instead and they exchange baffled looks.
“…Jungwon reassigned me here,” Jay explains after a few moments.
“I guess,” Jake says, eyebrows raised. He’s not really sure what Heeseung had against sharing a room with him, but he honestly doesn’t have the energy to care.
Macau is three concert dates followed by an offline fansign. By the time Jake shuffles out of the shower and hits the bed that Monday night after the fansign, he’s ready to not speak to anyone for the next week. He mumbles as much to Jay when he looks over with an inquisitive frown at his loud, heaving sigh that shudders through his entire body, much like a dog.
“I have something we can do,” Jay says conversationally, standing by the hotel desk as he scrolls through the pictures on his camera, “You don’t need to talk. Actually, it would be best if you didn’t. More true to form.”
Jake stares at him. “‘Kay…? Super informative and helpful.”
Jay remains silent for so long, absorbed in his camera, that Jake rolls over, tired of looking at his handsome face. He hears the dull thud of the camera being set down and then the sound of Jay rifling through his bag. Curious, he lifts his head and cranes it over his shoulder. It takes him a second to recognize the objects in his hands, but when he does, confusion fills his head with static noise. He cocks his head and his eyebrows dip down, cartoonish question marks practically floating over his head as he sits up properly.
Those are—Huh?
Jay is crouched by his suitcase and holding a pair of puppy ears and a tail. They are a soft tan shade like the ones Engenes often gift him. Wait.
“Where did you get that?” Jake asks, nervous.
“The fans spend a lot of money to see us. We shouldn’t waste their gifts.” Which is an answer, even if it is an indirect one. His stomach flips. His heart lodges in his throat.
“What are you gonna do with…” His voice dies out when Jay shifts to look at him. His eyes are dark, glinting with the promise that by the end of the night Jake won’t be speaking anymore, not because he chooses to but because he won’t be able to.
Unfolding himself to his full height, Jay keeps his gaze on Jake. “I’m not sure why there are words coming out of your mouth,” He tilts his head with an expression of admonishment, “Dogs don’t talk, Jake.”
Jesus fucking Christ. There is no way he leaves this alive and with his sanity in tact. His voice is frozen in his throat, stuck beneath the beating lump of his heart.
“Why do you still have all that on?” Jay asks, walking towards the farthest side of Jake’s bed from his own, opposite to where Jake is sitting. He deposits his findings on the mattress. Ears, tail, a bottle of lube. “Dogs don’t wear clothes.”
Jake’s hands move, controlled by some outside force because his mind is fuzzy with shock and he watches his own limbs like they’re detached from his body. They strip him of his oversized shirt and then, with a glance at Jay who only watches on silently, of the basketball shorts he planned to sleep in. He is left in gray-blue underwear that clings to his skin.
“Off,” Jay orders, beginning to grow restless, “Be glad I allow pets on the bed and stop testing my patience.”
He kicks his last line of defense off and kneels in the same spot he was sitting, shivering at the sudden chill of being bare naked.
“Come here,” Jay beckons him with a finger, “Crawl.”
Jake bites his tongue and crawls across the bed, trying to consciously blank out his thoughts so the shame doesn’t eat him alive. It’s kind of freeing, in that sense.
Jay takes his chin in hand, tilting his head up. Jake has to rise with it, fingers barely brushing the duvet, to follow the hold. His weight shifts into his knees and some of it rests in Jay’s palm.
Jay combs through his hair, parting it evenly, before clipping the ears on either side. Jake winces each time his hair is tugged at, otherwise waiting motionlessly for Jay to finish attaching the ears, round and floppy. Then he holds his breath and prays he dies while Jay reaches down to secure the tail belt around his waist, adjusting it so the tail looks like it sprouts from the curve of his ass.
Jay leans back and observes him critically. “Good,” he says, chucking Jake under the chin. He steps to the side and asks, “How does it look?”
There is a mirror on the wall next to his bed. So that was why Jay went out of his way to position himself here. Jake catches a brief glimpse of himself before he forces his eyes to zone out, afraid that he won’t have the courage to see this through if he looks at himself any longer. He nods, unsure how else to acknowledge Jay when his statement—rule?—still rings in his head. Dogs don’t talk, Jake.
Jay holds his silence but when Jake doesn’t attempt to speak, he breaks into a pleased smile. “Good boy,” He strokes his thumb over Jake’s cheek, “You learn fast.”
Jay climbs on the bed, running a hand along his back as he settles himself behind Jake. His palm comes to a rest on his ass, squeezing, before petting down his tail as if Jake can feel it. As if it’s an actual part of him.
What is this called again? Pet play? Fuck.
“Next time,” Jay trails his palm up his back, slipping it around to wrap a hand around his throat, “I’ll buy you a collar. If you end up somewhere you’re not supposed to be, people need to know who your owner is.”
Owner.
Jake has had sex with three people total in his life which he thinks is a modest and reasonable number. And yet, between the three of them, Jake feels as though they could write an entire DSM but for kinks.
Puppy play and ownership with Jay. Pregnancy kink and, what’s even the word, feminization? with Heeseung. And… Well let’s just say Jake enjoyed being resistant and Sunghoon enjoyed being resisted.
So all things considered, Jake shouldn’t be so rattled by the stuff coming out of Jay’s mouth but he can’t help the way he shivers when Jay hums and says, “You need a leash, too.”
Giving his throat a squeeze, “Should leave you chained to my bed when we don’t have schedules. I’d say that’s where you belong, keeping it warm for when I need you.”
Jake’s jaw drops and he moans, eyelids closing briefly as he tries to get ahold of himself. That’s not hot. That’s not hot at all. He isn’t thinking about wearing a dog collar with a metal tag, his name stamped on the front and Jay’s number inscribed on the back. He isn’t thinking about a chain leash tied to a headboard, of dozing naked on the bed in a nest of Jay’s clothes, waiting for when his owner will return and use—Holy shit, he whisper-shouts in his mind, stop thinking. Not a single thought out of you for the rest of today.
“Did you clean yourself up?”
Jake nods, ducking his head to hide the sudden flush in his cheeks. He hadn’t actually expected they would have sex but the wishful five percent of him had won over in the shower. He’s glad for it now.
“Good boy. Pets should always be ready for their owners.”
The lube cap clicks open and he hears the squirt of it over Jay’s fingers followed by the dull thump of the bottle falling to the duvet. He tenses at the cool touch of his middle finger at his rim. Jay threads his free hand into the hair between his ears—dog ears that is.
“Relax,” he coaxes, “Let me in, puppy.”
And who is Jake to disobey. He breathes deep and wills himself to go lax. The first finger slides in. Jake shifts on his knees, spreading his legs further apart so Jay can reach deeper. Jay notices this and laughs through his nose. The second finger slides in. He doesn’t try and make it any more pleasurable for Jake, only fucks his middle and ring fingers in, the heel of his palm hitting Jake’s ass.
It’s rather methodical. Not even as though he’s too eager to indulge in foreplay, but rather that he thinks Jake doesn’t deserve the foreplay. His purpose here is to open Jake up for him, nothing more, nothing less.
Jake glances between his legs in the mirror and berates himself for how hard his cock is. Why is this getting to him so easily? How did he cave into pet play without even a word otherwise? Where is his spine?
A third finger works its way into him and he grunts under his breath, bracing his hands on the edge of the mattress. It’s been a month and some change since he did this with Heeseung, and his body forgot what it felt like to be full in that time.
Jay rubs his fingers against his scalp, a soothing gesture that unfortunately works. Jake sighs through his nose and relaxes a little more around his fingers. Jay fucks him hard with his fingers, palm meeting his ass with a dull slap. They’re curved inwards, towards his back, completely and purposefully ignoring his prostate.
Another minute later, which Jake spends whining quietly under his breath and wondering how embarrassing it would be to come from just this, Jay seems to consider him ready. His fingers withdraw and wipe themselves clean on the covers. He wraps his hand around the base of Jake’s tail and tugs, pulling Jake back into the cradle of his hips.
That he treats the toy ears and tail like they are actual parts of his body—his fingers are currently petting behind the tan ears and Jake may or may not be leaning into the touch—is fucking with Jake in ways previously undiscovered and he was literally being gaslit by Heeseung into lowkey believing he had a cunt that one time.
Jay presses the tip of his cock to his hole, covered in a generous layer of lube, dipping into the slight gape he fingered open. “Hold still,” Jay grips his waist, thumb dimpling the skin to the side of his spine, but he can’t stop squirming, “Jake, sit still.”
“Can’t,” Jake huffs. Kneeling up like this, everything feels a little tighter than if he were bent forward on his elbows. And besides, “You’re thicker than—”
Jay lands a slap on the underside of his ass, catching the sensitive sit spot, and Jake yelps like a wounded animal. “Dogs don’t talk,” Jay says sternly, “Shut up. Bark if you have to, but not another word out of you.”
Jake whimpers in reply, blinking back the overwhelmed tears brimming along his waterline. His mouth drops open around a loud sound, half-whine, half-groan, as Jay pushes in. What he was trying to say was that Jay is thicker than the other two or anything else Jake has attempted to put inside of himself.
The stretch burns, but it only heightens the sensation, the pervading sense of fullness that wipes away all other thought from his mind. He’s so full he has no room to do anything other than breathe and clench around Jay’s cock.
His cock twitches, leaving a sticky trail of precum over his abs. Jake could probably come just from the knowledge that Jay is inside of him. He hopes he’s the best Jay has had. He hopes he’s as wet and tight and warm as Heeseung and Sunghoon claimed he was, and that when they’re done, Jay won’t be able to think about anything other than the next time they can do this.
“Okay?” Jay asks and Jake realizes the lack of movement was for him, so he could adjust. He nods rapidly, rocking back into him to show him just how okay he is.
Jake would like to say, given his position and the leverage it gives him to move, that he is an active participant in their fucking. He would be lying.
Jay thrusts in once and his mind goes fuzzy. Five more thrusts, and his head hangs limp on his neck. Ten more, and his tongue pokes out a little as he pants. Drool drips from his tongue and lower lip, a thick line that only snaps when it lands on the blanket. He’s aware that more drool follows in its path but he can’t find the presence of mind to close his mouth.
Sunghoon had fucked him with playfulness, curiosity, exploring and learning. Heeseung had behaved like he wanted to live inside of his body. Jay does it with sureness, content that Jake is his and here to please him.
Each thrust grazes past his prostate and Jake’s thighs start to tremble, eyes welling with tears. He wouldn’t be able to speak a word right now even if he wanted to. He’s producing sounds he didn’t know he was capable of making, thin keens and loud mewls.
Jay keeps up a steady flow of praise, some of it breathless ‘Good boy’s, some of it hot whispers against the shell of his ear. It drives Jake more and more wild, wipes clean any attempt he makes at higher thinking. He feels reduced to his baser instincts, to those four evolutionary Fs. Well, just the one really. Just that last one—Fuck.
Surely nothing is more important than this. Speared open, warmth building in his stomach, Jay pressing his satisfaction into his skin with his fingers. Surely this is why humans evolved, to feel pleasure this acutely, to give it this skillfully. To feed and fight and flee and fuck. Jake wants to do all of it over and over again with Jay for the rest of their lives.
Jay speeds up suddenly, pounding into him hard enough the bed shakes, headboard occasionally clipping the wall even though they aren’t even moving in that direction. Jake’s hands slip out from under him and he would have tumbled off the bed if it weren’t for the steel grip Jay has on his waist.
He’s sure he sounds intelligent, a long string of dazed ‘uh, uh, uh’s fucked out of him.
One hand finds purchase again and twists itself into the sheets and the other reaches back to cling to Jay’s forearm. He’s being jostled violently with each thrust and his vision is a blur. He’s dizzy.
His tongue sticks out. There are damp patches on the duvet, only growing. “Watch,” Jay says. Mercifully, he slows down. His hand finds its way into his hair again, yanking his head up. Jake blinks his bleary eyes at the mirror. He’s so out of it, so entirely distracted by the heavy weight of Jay’s cock stretching him open, that it takes a second for his vision to focus.
He wishes it didn’t.
A noise of pure embarrassment rips free of his throat. He pulls his tongue back into his mouth hastily. He doesn’t recognize the… the cock-drunk slut in the mirror, with its chin dripping with spit and its cheeks covered in stray tears and a hazy look in its eyes, fucked so good one toy ear has nearly come off.
Jay draws back until Jake clenches down in fear that he will slip out, then shoves himself in with a lazy smirk. He maintains that slow, haphazard pace and Jake thinks he might be losing his mind. His world has narrowed down to Jay and whatever Jay gives him. Thought is replaced by the buzz of the orgasm creeping up on him.
He watches his reflection as Jay instructed, but mostly he looks right through it. It takes him a while to catch on that Jay is speaking to him, because he only realizes when he sees his mouth moving in the mirror.
Their gazes lock. Jay says something. Jake blinks a few times as he bites down on a moan, staring dumbly. Can a cock be made for him? Or maybe it’s the other way. Maybe he was made for this cock. Either way, they should never be separated.
“Jake.” He definitely recognizes that word, even if Jay’s voice is unreadable. Jake drags his eyelids open, unsure when they fell shut. He whines softly in acknowledgement of his name.
Jay tugs on his tail, but he already has his attention. “Jake.”
He whines again, a little louder, a little confused. Jay says something in response, “…can’t even… question… many times…” but there are too many words for his poor brain and none of them sound like a command, so they float in one ear and out the other.
Jay sucks in a breath. His thrusts still and he scoffs, “Dumb mutt.”
Dumb mutt? If Jay says he’s a dumb mutt, then that must mean he is one. Jake huffs and nods to show his acceptance in hopes that his good behavior will spur him on to continue fucking him with those short, hard strokes from before.
“Shit,” Jay breathes with quiet vehemence, “You’re unreal. I thought being fucked stupid was a bit for porn, but you’re…” He grabs Jake’s face, thumb digging into one cheek, four fingers digging into the other, squeezing until mouth pops open crudely.
Jake grinds his ass back, aching for more. Jay wraps his free arm around his stomach, holding him close to his body with his tail crushed between them, and fucks him with tight thrusts, most of his length buried inside, only an inch or two shifting in and out.
The insides of his cheeks start to hurt from being smushed up against his teeth, the hard crown of them digging into the tender skin. He tries to whine for Jay’s attention but it goes unheeded, probably brushed aside as a sound of pleasure. His next instinct is to talk but a) his mouth is contorted oddly b) dogs don’t talk and c) he’s having trouble forming a sentence. Words are escaping him. His tongue is thick and clumsy in his mouth.
He paws at Jay’s hand and shakes his head to try and slip free, much like a dog would. Jay snorts and releases him, wrapping his hand around his throat instead. That, Jake approves of.
Every time Jay feeds a little pressure into his hand, Jake tightens around him. It’s like a remote control. Jay holds the pressure, Jake tenses up, and they both groan as Jay forces past the new resistance in his walls.
It’s so good. The pleasure like a warm buzz, the control like a leash around his throat, and the discomfort and breathlessness a steady counterpoint. Jay’s hips snap in with a loud smack and his eyes roll back. Drool drips from the corner of his mouth.
When he comes, his climax wrings his body dry. Jay fucks him right through and past it. Jake’s thighs tremble and seize, snapping shut in a fruitless bid to save him from the overstimulation. He’s making these shrill, frantic noises behind his closed mouth, lips pressed into a thin line to bear through the shocky pleasure-pain. Jay takes pity on him once he sounds pathetic enough and a new round of tears have spilled over.
Jay pulls out and Jake’s mouth drops open around a shuddering gasp, out of breath. He nearly falls forward for the second time but Jay catches him with a fist in his hair and Jake yelps at the sting of being yanked upright. The pain travels down his spine and throbs in his groin. He moans in response.
“I think you might be a masochist,” Jay says, “Huh. Wouldn’t have pegged you for one with how sensitive you are.”
Jake understands the surprise. He’s not a fan of pain or unnecessary discomfort and he’s vocal about it. It’s different when it comes from Jay’s hands though. He wouldn’t mind it if Jay hurt him, thinks he would even enjoy it.
Jay relieves the strain on his scalp by hauling him against his chest. Jake slides his legs out from underneath himself, avoiding the wet spot between his knees. He was sore from the concert and resting on his haunches hadn’t helped with that.
He lets his head roll back against Jay’s shoulder and Jay rests his temple against the side of his head. Jake stares at them in the mirror. The ear knocked loose from earlier is hanging on by a few strands of hair. He looks entirely fucked out but Jay looks rather peaceful, if not for the flush of exertion and the sweat. What a sick joke.
Jay is still hard, digging into the small of Jake’s back, leaving the skin wet with lube and precum. Before he can offer his help, Jay tugs on his tail and presses his palm flat against his back. “On your knees.”
Jake buffers for a moment, but obediently slides off the bed and settles on his sore knees. Jay doesn’t offer a pillow and he doesn’t ask for one. There’s something about putting himself through discomfort for Jay’s pleasure that appeals to him, satisfies some newly discovered itch.
Jay eyes the stain of Jake’s drool and cum on the duvet and folds it out of his way, seating himself on the edge of the bed. Jake can only focus on his cock, red and thick and curved just a little to the left. His mouth waters, though that makes no difference with how much spit there already is.
Wrapping a hand around the base of his cock, Jay pushes a thumb down on Jake’s bottom lip, widening his already parted mouth. Fingers in his locks, he drags him forward and feeds him his cock. Jake watches from under his lashes as Jay’s head drops back and he moans. He tightens his lips and presses his tongue flat to the underside of his cock.
Jay sinks in until Jake tenses, stops, then slides in a little more to feel him choke. He gags loudly, the muscles in his abdomen contracting. His hands find Jay’s knees but he doesn’t push away, just takes it, struggling to breathe through his nose. When Jay slips his cock out and slaps the head against his cheek a few times, a thick string of drool follows.
He turns into those obscene smacks, lips searching for the silky heat of his cock, but Jay nudges him away by the chin. Jake whimpers, showing off his empty mouth to Jay in a wordless plead to have it filled. Instead of that, Jay reaches for the dog ear hanging free and resituates it in his hair, scratching at his scalp with his blunt nails after.
Jake hums, leaning into the touch. He moves forward to take Jay into his mouth when the wet tip brushes against his lips, but he’s held back. “Not that. Lick,” Jay says. Jake furrows his eyebrows, peering up at him, but Jay looks at him evenly, waiting.
Slowly, he sticks his tongue out and laps at the pre-cum beaded at his slit. “Good boy,” Jay croons and any hesitation Jake had dissolves into thin air. It’s strange and clumsy using only his tongue to get Jay off, and there’s just so much drool, spilling from his tongue and his chin and trickling down his neck. Practically slobbering on his cock, he feels more like a dog now than at any other point before.
He tries. Drags his tongue up and down, swirls it against that spot just under the head, dips it into his slit. Ducks down to give his balls attention, eyes shut tight because his cock drags across his face.
Either Jay gets close or bored, because he wrenches Jake’s head away and orders him to stick his tongue out in a clipped voice. Jake lets it loll out, gazing up at Jay patiently. He works his hand fast over his length, the slick sounds of Jake’s spit easing the glide the only thing filling the silence.
Jake receives only a short, gasped warning of, “Coming,” before ropes of cum dribble across his face. He flinches, eyes squeezing shut in protection, opening his mouth wider to catch what he can. None of it lands in his eyes thankfully, though he does think some landed in his eyebrow and streaked the bridge of his nose. He draws his tongue in before the cum pooled on it runs off. Jay smears the tip of his cock across his bottom lip, coating it in the last of his spend.
Jake blinks his eyes open, keeping his mouth wide and waiting for directions. Jay is silent as he takes him in. He looks deeply affected by the sight of Jake’s face covered in his cum. The corners of Jake’s lips twitch up at this, proud. It’s nice to know he at least has some influence over Jay to make up for the way he drives Jake crazy.
Jay has him hold like that for a good while. The muscles in his jaw and tongue start to ache. Cum is dripping down his face—some of it did catch in his eyebrow and it’s rolling ever so slowly over his browbone in a path for his eye. Still, he waits without moving a muscle. In the expectant silence, he thinks about those videos of dogs made to sit patiently with a treat on their nose until their owners give them the okay. The parallels are glaring.
Jay breaks into a smile. “Good boy. Swallow.”
Jake swallows. He can feel the blush trying to crawl its way up, but it’s not even worth being embarrassed at this point. After everything he’s done, swallowing without complaint is the last place to draw the line in the sand.
A hand tilts his head up higher, angling it into the ceiling light. Jay is still smiling, but his eyes are dark and molten with what Jake thinks is possessiveness. “Can I take a picture?” he asks.
And that blush Jake was trying to tamp down? Erupts with a blaze. If he touched his cheeks, they would be warm under his fingertips.
Taking a picture is not the safest decision. That pictures leaks and there’s no denying the who or what. Not when his face is the starring attraction and it’s covered in what can’t possibly be mistaken for anything other than cum. And yet.
He nods jerkily. Jay is up and scrambling for his phone within the second, moving with a speed Jake rarely sees from him, which is gratifying. Obviously, he is well acquainted with how intensely and stupidly Jay affects him, but other than the ire Jake draws out of him with ease, Jay seems impervious to him. This is a nice change of pace.
Sliding back in to stand between Jake’s kneeling form and the bed, Jay positions his head carefully, then leans away to take his photos so as to not cast a shadow over him. From what Jake can tell, he takes a few.
“Smile, puppy,” Jay says next.
Jake smiles as if he’s posing for a fan, even switches it up and bites down on his lower lip, tossing up a peace sign like he normally would. Jay clicks a few more pictures then throws his phone on the bed.
To Jake’s relief, he crouches down and immediately thumbs away the trickle of cum that was dangerously close to getting into his eyelashes. “Here. Stand.” He rises first and hauls Jake to his feet with a hand under each upper arm using only his strength. When Jay loosens the grip around his biceps, Jake stumbles backwards. His legs aren’t very keen on supporting his body weight, so he’s helpless to stop the momentum and more or less crashes into the mirror at his back.
Jay had been surprised at his sudden loss of balance and acted too late to stop him, but he had reached out for Jake after a delayed second. His hands encircle his waist now, pinning him against the mirror, because Jake’s sore, shaky knees threaten to send him sliding down the glass.
They stare at each other wide-eyed before Jay starts to laugh. It’s warm and fond, and it fills Jake with comfort, a blanket on a rainy day. He can only join in, shaking his head slightly at himself. He ducks his head and wipes his face off on his shoulder, the appeal of a facial running out now that the lust-driven fog has parted.
A hand lifts from his waist to play with one of his ears—the fake ones that is. Jake glances at him with a wry smile and Jay leans in, still laughing, to kiss him.
Ah. So this is love. Chest so full with affection and adoration he might throw up. Putting himself in Jay’s palms and praying he’s enough. Love is the smile he can taste against his mouth. It’s the fingers that run gently down the side of his face and wrap around the back of his neck. The lips that kiss the ball of his shoulder and confess against his skin, “You—God, you make me so happy.”
He hooks a finger under Jay’s chin and reels him back in. Love. Love, love, love. Can Jay sense it? Can he tell that each flick and stroke of Jake’s tongue is coated in it? That each happy hum is a memo? That the hands cradling his jaw are a promise?
His world used to be big. Bigger than he knew what to do with. Attention was like a drug, headier when it was from those closest to him. Jake’s appetite grew and grew until it became a monster of his own making.
He would like to say Jay was an arrow to the heart, knocking him down to human size, but it was nothing so dramatic. He was avaricious at first, content to collect affection like notches on a bedpost, but gradually only one notch started mattering. His world shrunk, day by day, month by month, to one person.
Jay drags a thumb across his cheek. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“Don’t take your hands off me,” Jake says.
“I won’t.”
“Don’t let me fall.”
“I won’t let you,” Jay promises.
Twenty minutes later, washed clean of various bodily fluids, synthetics, and perhaps of their sins too, they share Jay’s bed in a repeat of Taipei. Jake takes it upon himself to inform their manager and their group members that they’re turning in for the night.
Their manager responds with a simple thumbs up, but their members light up the groupchat.
Jungwon’s reply is relatively inoffensive.
🚫🚫🚫🚫 stop leaving im serious 🚫🚫🚫🚫
Jungwonie
i take it you enjoyed the room switch
Sunghoon sends a collection of emojis that are entirely offensive and Jake puts them out of mind the moment he sees them. Riki replies to Sunghoon with a round of digital laughter and:
🚫🚫🚫🚫 stop leaving im serious 🚫🚫🚫🚫
Niki
guess the clumsy husband found a way to please his strict wife
Before Jake can scold him for it, Heeseung adds his two cents:
🚫🚫🚫🚫 stop leaving im serious 🚫🚫🚫🚫
Heeseungie hyung
woah hey what are you saying
youre just a baby
ill say it
looks like the poor overworked husband found a way to satisfy his spoiled overdramatic wife
Jaeyun
I hope your mics malfunction on stage
I hope you guys forget your lines and your voices crack
I hope you fuck up the choreo when you’re in the center
Heeseungie hyung
im sensing some negativity?
Niki
ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
Sunghoonie
What does Jay see in you
Jaeyun
Choke
Heeseungie hyung
no thats more your thing from my experience
Niki
oh..
Sunny
Omg
I need to stop opening this gc
Jaeyun
HYUNG
Heeseungie hyung
😅🫣
slip of the tongue jaeyunie
Jungwonie
this is way more than i wanted to know about your sex lives
Jaeyun
I hope you die hyung
Sunghoonie
At least we know what Jay sees in you
Jaeyun
You too Sunghoon
I hope your life is miserable
“Are they bullying you?” Jay asks, nose digging into the back of his neck.
“I hope you’re fine being the eldest of Enhypen, because I’m murdering hyung.” Jake slaps his phone down on the mattress and shoves it away.
“What’d he say?” Jay murmurs. Jake doesn’t respond other than with a huff, so he stretches over him to pluck his phone from the sheets. He tilts away from Jake to give himself enough space to look at the messages.
When he finds the problem message, he laughs under his breath. “It is more your thing.”
“Sleep on the floor,” Jake turns around and shoves at his side, trying to roll him over and right off the bed, “Go. Go.”
Jay snags a hand, lifting it up and twisting it so he can kiss the inside of his wrist, right over his pulse.
“Stop seducing me.”
Jay casts him a dry look. “No one is seducing you. You’re just easy.”
“Fuck you, Park Jongseong.”
“You’re not up for round two. You can barely walk.”
“I hate your humor, you know that?” Jake says, propped up on his elbow.
Jay shrugs, attention averted back to the group chat. “Okay.”
“You’re not funny.”
Jay is texting in the chat now under Jake’s name, and maybe this is high school of him but the intimacy of it has butterflies fluttering in his stomach. Jay’s response comes delayed, “Okay.”
Jake lets out an aggrieved sigh at his nonchalance, dropping flat to the bed and staring at the ceiling.
“What’s your problem?”
“You,” Jake snaps.
Jay understands without additional explanation. “I don’t care if you think my jokes are awful. Clearly you like my bad humor if you’re in love with me.”
Jake glances at him, eyes narrowed. “You’re so confident in that,” he comments. Jay smirks to himself and offers no reply. Jake turns his focus to his phone screen, but the angle is off and he can’t make out the texts.
“What are they saying? What are you saying? You better not be saying weird things.”
“You have no faith.”
“In you? Never.”
Jake covers Jay’s hand with his and jerks the phone to face him. The last few messages read:
🚫🚫🚫🚫 stop leaving im serious 🚫🚫🚫🚫
Heeseungie hyung
is jaeyun sulking?
Sunghoonie
Do you even have to ask hyung
Niki
jay hyung
question
why jake hyung
Jake snatches the phone from him.
🚫🚫🚫🚫 stop leaving im serious 🚫🚫🚫🚫
Jaeyun
What do you mean why Jake hyung
Niki
ugh
give it back to jay hyung
no one wants you here
Jaeyun
You can forget about baseball then
Ungrateful child
Before Riki can reply, Jay gently prises the phone from his grip like it isn’t Jake’s property, but he gives it up easily enough, tucking himself into the crook of Jay’s neck and closing his eyes. If he can’t see it, it can’t hurt him.
“Don’t say weird things,” he mumbles a reminder.
“Shut up and sleep,” Jay sighs, and then more sincerely, “You haven’t been sleeping properly lately. I’ll ask the manager to let you sleep in a little once we get back.”
“You’re being good to me,” Jake breathes in the clean scent of his skin, nuzzling his nose into the warmth, “It’s weird.”
Jay removes a hand from the phone and reaches down, sliding it underneath Jake’s shirt and pinching his waist. It twinges like a bitch and Jake jolts, accidentally kneeing Jay in the thigh and knocking the underside of his chin on Jay’s shoulder.
They both groan in pain. Jake cups his chin in one hand and slaps him square on the chest with the other, using as much force as he can muster. “Ow! Jake, what the—” Jay wheezes and grabs his wrist when he goes in for a second strike, turning the phone off and tossing it aside, “What’s your fucking problem?”
“You’re such a dick,” Jake is scathing in his reply, snatching his wrist free, “I almost bit my tongue off because of you.”
“Hey. You said it was weird that I was being good to you, so I stopped.”
“I’m gonna punch you,” Jake growls, raising his fist over his shoulder as a threat, “I’ve never met anyone so annoying.”
“That doesn’t hold much weight when you’re dating said guy, by the way.”
“Yeah, speaking of which. You never even asked me out. You think I’m cheap or something.”
Jay fights back a smile, resting his laced hands over his stomach. “You want my honest answer?”
“Wow. Whatever, fuck off,” Jake scoffs, putting space between them and giving Jay his back.
The bed is silent for a moment, before the sheets rustle as Jay draws close. Jake remains stubbornly still, eyes shut and ignoring the faint laugh he can hear. Warmth blooms at his lower back—Jay’s touch. Jake lets it linger until Jay attempts to sneak his hand under his shirt again. He reaches back to swat at him, trying to shake him off, but Jay pushes past. His hand travels to the front, skimming his sensitive skin, and Jake tenses because it tickles.
All he does is rest his palm against Jake’s stomach. Fingers splayed wide a little possessively, thumb stroking over his skin and tracing the midline of his abs. It’s tender and…and intimate, enough that a blush burns his face. Slowly, Jay crowds against his back, slipping a leg between his. His free arm settles on the pillow, bent so he can run his fingers through Jake’s hair.
“Jaeyun-ah,” Jay’s voice rumbles against his back, so warm and adoring that goosebumps prick the nape of his neck and all along his arms, “I’m obsessed with you. Won’t you put me out of my misery and be mine?”
It’s cringey, but then why is Jake blushing? Why is he digging his teeth into his bottom lip to bite back a stupid smile? Why did his stomach flip when Jay shaped the word mine on his tongue?
He slides his hand over Jay’s where it rests on his abdomen and peers over his shoulder. “Ask properly.”
Jay presses his mouth to the side of his neck bared to him, “Sim Jaeyun, will you go out with me?”
He turns all the way around. Jay’s palm slips off his stomach and finds his hand instead, their fingers tangling together. Jake looks into his eyes, deep dark brown and holding his gaze loyally, “Thought you’d never ask.”
Jay’s lips twitch in a smile that grows lopsided, a breathless laugh spilling out. “Bullshit,” he calls, thick with amusement, and Jake purses his mouth to hide his own smile, “You had no confidence I wanted you back, even though everyone knew how I felt.”
Jake says lightly, “I mean, given my track record—”
“I’m not your track record,” Jay cuts in. The grin lingers, but his eyes are serious. “I’m not Sunghoon or Heeseung hyung or anyone else.”
Jake acknowledges this because it seems important to Jay that he does, “I know. I know you’re not.
Jay studies him in silence.
“I mean it,” Jake promises, “I’m not going into this thinking you see me like the others did. Anyway, the whole point is that they weren’t willing to get into anything with me, so asking me out immediately puts that in the grave.”
“Sunghoon and Heeseung hyung have very little patience,” Jay comments, tucking his arm under his head, “You just needed someone who was patient with you.”
Jake smiles fondly at him, bridging the scant inches between them to lay a soft kiss on his mouth. “I don’t think it’s that they have too little patience. I think you have too much.”
Jay shrugs, not looking very convinced. “Agree to disagree.”
“I know we argue a lot and get on each other’s nerves, but I’ll… I’ll try my best to make this easy for you,” Jake says.
“Don’t,” Jay replies. His eyes are closed. His voice is quiet and he is falling asleep. “I like you because you’re difficult, terribly annoying, and get on my case for no reason.”
It must be instinct at this point for him to get defensive in the face of Jay’s criticism. “It’s not for no reason. You never do anything right the first time and you’re so strange,” he mutters, fighting the urge to bite Jay’s… something. Maybe his nose. Impulsively, he gives into the voices and nips the tip.
Jay jerks back startled, his eyes flying open. “What the hell was that?”
Jake leans in at a glacial pace to demonstrate, watching Jay like he is an animal about to spook. He grazes the tip of his nose with his teeth then pulls back, waiting.
“And you think I’m strange,” Jay says, shaking his head, but he looks endeared regardless of his words, which is incredibly embarrassing for him.
“You are strange. I like that about you,” Jake murmurs, biting down on his bottom lip with a smile as he comes to a realization.
How lucky he is, to have someone who has seen the most unflattering and repulsive pieces of him and decided they wanted to keep him anyway. If Jay loves him not just when but because he is irritating and stubborn and obnoxious, then what more is there for him to fear.
Jake cuddles closer and drapes an arm around Jay’s torso. Their noses brush and Jay blinks slow, a tired cat. He frees his arm from between their chests and rests it on Jake’s waist, his hand absently sliding under his shirt to cradle his back. “Let’s be together for a long time, okay,” Jake says at a low hum.
“Don’t have to ask. Wasn’t giving you a choice,” comes Jay’s faint murmur, a tired smile in his voice.
Jake ghosts his mouth over his in a featherlight kiss. He brushes a few strands of hair out of Jay’s eye and strokes the pads of his fingers down his cheek, “Go to sleep. Good night.”
“Night,” Jay breathes, and then he’s out like a light. His ability to fall asleep is nothing to scoff at. Jake watches him for a few minutes, smiling to himself at the sight of his eyelids cracked open slightly. It still freaks the others out to see him sleep with his eyes open, but those two years they spent sharing a room has placed that quirk firmly in the strange but endearing category.
He reluctantly detaches himself from Jay because there are a few things he needs to do before bed. He finds his phone behind Jay’s back, lost in the sheets, and plugs it in for charging after checking his messages to see if anything important has been said. Nothing has, unsurprisingly. The messages crowding his lockscreen are of his members having a laugh at his expense.
That done, he checks Jay’s phone for any pressing notifications and finds a text from their manager, checking in. He responds for Jay and sets the phone aside, also plugged in. He gives their room one last once-over for any incriminating objects strewn about, idly packing away some of the things Jay left lying about. Jay can gripe about how much Jake bitched when they were rooming together all he wants, but Jake was very much justified in his grievances.
There was a surreal moment a few months into their joint habitation where Jake realized that his complaints were starting to sound like things his mother had said before, verbatim. Turning into his mother at nineteen had not been on his checklist, and he’d quit nagging Jay for a solid three weeks after that identity crisis until it became too much to resist.
He places Jay’s wallet and water bottle on the nightstand by his side of the bed. Standing there, his gaze drifts to the slumbering form of his—his best friend, his bandmate, his boyfriend(?). To this person he spent two years coming back to at the end of the day and when that was taken from him, missed acutely like a lost limb.
Jake leans over him, stroking his cheek with the back of his fingers. “You drive me crazy. Why are you like this?”
Jay doesn’t stir as Jake knew he wouldn’t. He clicks the lamp light off and climbs over Jay into bed. Tucking himself under the covers, he wriggles up to Jay until they’re uncomfortably close. His vision slowly adjusts to the dark, the faint light behind the curtains illuminating the barest contours of Jay’s peacefully asleep face. If it were a little brighter, he could count each individual eyelash at this proximity.
“I love you,” Jake whispers, leaking honey from every pore, “Please love me forever.”
Riki ends up as his roommate for New Clark City. He hasn’t done it in a while, but that night after the concert, he sleeps in Jake’s bed.
Jake sighs when he sees Slenderman standing at the foot of his bed and silently flips the covers back in invitation. Instead of the conveniently vacant spot, Riki throws himself on top of Jake with no care for the fact that he is six foot to Jake’s five nine. Jake nearly bites clean through his lip holding back his shout, curling in on himself like an injured pill bug once Riki rolls off to the side.
Riki pokes at him. “You okay?”
“Go to hell,” Jake rasps, clutching his abdomen where he got him good with his elbow. Riki pokes a few more times and Jake swings wildly at him, connecting with his forearm with a satisfying smack.
“You can’t just—Why would you—” With one look at Riki’s giddy face, he gives up on the lecture, “Aish.”
“Jake hyung,” Riki starts in that mischievous, instigating tone of his but Jake hushes him.
“No. If you want to sleep with me, no antics. I’m tired.”
It’s silent for a moment before, “Sleep with you, huh?” Riki snickers.
“Oh my God, are you nine?” Jake groans, screwing his eyes shut and rolling away from him. And then his eyes snap open because that was a mistake, that was definitely a mistake, “No, don’t you dare—”
But Riki is already giggling, “Yeah, nine inches.” Jake screeches in anguish and he laughs harder, shaking the bed, “Hyung, you walked right into that!”
“Just go to sleep, aegi,” Jake whines, kicking his shin and folding the pillow over his face, “Why do you have to bother hyung even now, huh? Is the day time not enough for you?”
“Of course not. It’s only enough if I bother you all the time.”
Jake sighs. “Niki loves me so much. Sooo much.” He stretches his arms up above him and lets them fall apart in a wide arc. His right arm lands on Riki’s chest. “Like a cute little duckling imprinting on the first person they see. Engenes really picked the right animal for you. You can forget about the puma, you’re totally a duck.”
“I’m not cute,” Riki mumbles.
Jake glances at him, grinning when he spies the pursed mouth. “Aigoo,” he adopts a saccharine tone and grabs Riki’s chin, squishing his mouth into a beak with his first two fingers, “Are you sulking? Our aegi is so cute. Don’t pout, Niki-san.”
“Ah, hyung stop! Stop it,” Riki grabs at his hand but Jake gets one last good squeeze to his cheeks before releasing him.
“You’re so annoying,” Riki grumbles. He reaches for Jake, pushing past his resistance with his bigger frame and greater strength to wrap Jake up in his arms and tuck him against his chest. Jake resigns himself to the position, deflating with a tired exhale.
At least Riki is pleasantly warm. Jungwon and Heeseung run too hot, whereas Sunoo and Sunghoon can at times feel like corpses. Riki and Jay fall into that Goldilocks middle. The arms around his waist snake tighter and Jake grunts quietly, “My ribs.”
“Hyung.”
Jake hums. Riki pats his stomach. Jake clicks his tongue in impatience, “What?”
“Are you and Jay hyung dating?”
“…Yeah.” Jake rubs his cheek against the pillow, shy.
Riki slides a leg between Jake’s and buries his face against the nape of his neck. When he speaks, his voice rumbles through Jake. “You know, Jay hyung still sleeps with his door open. It’s like he never stopped waiting for you to come back.”
The smile on his lips fades, mouth parting. “He…He does?”
“Yup,” Riki says. He nuzzles into Jake, a content sigh whistling through his nose.
Just in case he’s misunderstanding, he double checks, “Like how he would when we used to—”
“Room together,” Riki fills in, “Yeah. Like that.”
Jake smiles to himself, fondness filling him to the brim. “How can he be so cute?” he wonders, squeezing Riki’s hand to expend some of the affection that has no place to go, “If he acts like this, how can I leave him alone?”
“Gross,” Riki laughs, and he sounds teasing but underneath it is a little spark of honesty.
Jake bites the inside of his cheek, then goes for it. “Are you happy for me?” he asks. And Riki stiffens, near imperceptibly. Jake holds his breath. Everything feels a little disconnected when it comes to him. He’s so young, it’s hard to not to think of him as a kid who can’t really know what he wants.
No one says, ‘He’s in love with you,’ they say, ‘Oh, the poor kid has a crush on you,’ because none of them take it seriously, which is perhaps a disservice to Riki’s emotional maturity. Jake grimaces at the shaky breath that skates across his skin. He wraps a hand around his wrist, squeezing once to provide what comfort he can.
“Hyung, if you’d just waited a little bit more…” Riki confesses dejectedly into his neck in a frail voice, “I could have shown you I’m not a kid anymore.”
Jake tries to turn around but Riki holds him still, hiding against his shoulder. “Riki,” he says faintly, heart panging in guilt.
“Don’t.”
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“No, don’t.” Riki shakes his head vigorously, clutching Jake tighter to him, pressing him to his chest like if he tries hard enough, he could keep Jake within his ribs. “I knew what I was getting into.”
Jake winces, finding Riki’s hand with his and threading their fingers together. He isn’t sure if he believes that.
“I knew you—I knew I was a kid to you. I still am, I guess. You never took my feelings seriously.”
“That’s because—”
“I know why,” Riki cuts him off roughly, “I know. I’m not an idiot. You thought I was too young. Thought I would get over it, that it would pass. Well, it didn’t.”
Dread flips in his stomach and crawls up the back of Jake’s throat, anxiety tightens his lungs.
“It didn’t pass, hyung. I’m in love with you.”
Jake squeezes his eyes shut with a pained noise, ducking his head. A grimace steals over his face. He’s lost for air, for words, despite knowing—all these years really, to some extent—that this was coming. That he could write it off as a simple crush, but that it would not actually make it just a crush. He had wanted better than him for Riki, something kinder for this boy he loved so dearly.
He swallows around the lump in his throat, trying once more to turn over. Riki refuses to allow him. “I can’t,” he says, fingers bruising on Jake’s skin, “If I look at you…”
“I’m sorry,” Jake says once more, ashamed, “I can’t change anything, but I’m sorry for not taking you seriously.”
Riki eases up on his grip, hugging him normally. “It’s okay. It was better in a way that I wasn’t an option, instead of you choosing someone else over me.” He sounds as though he’s convincing himself of that. Jake bites his lip. Being given this kind of responsibility is nerve wracking. How can he make this better when the only solution would be returning Riki’s feelings?
But Riki doesn’t seem to be looking for that. Instead, he asks, “Am I still your favorite?”
Jake turns, barely halfway, and surprisingly he is able to. He peers at Riki, from the corner of his eye more than anything. “You’ll always be my favorite,” Jake says, knowing he sounds bone-deep fond, “Always.”
“Not Jay hyung?”
“No,” Jake says softly, turning a little more and managing eye contact, “Not Jay.”
“You still think I’m a kid?” Riki asks, his voice attractively deep perhaps to prove a point. There is an inappropriate lack of space between their faces, and if this were anyone else, Jake would distance himself slightly given the topic at hand, but something in him cannot find the danger in Riki.
“Sometimes,” he admits, “It’s confusing.”
“What’s confusing, Jake.” And the informal speech sends a flash through Jake, a pleasant shock that settles in his gut.
“I think I met you too young,” Jake says, cupping Riki’s sweet face and seeing him as he was in I-Land like a flickering overlay, “My baby. Hyung took such good care of you, didn’t he?”
Riki sighs and tilts into his palm. “You did,” he concedes.
“I don’t know if this helps, but,” Jake bites his lips, thinks it over one last time, before confessing, “If there wasn’t anyone else for me, I think with time, I could have seen you in whatever way you wanted me to.”
Riki’s eyes narrow, “You would see me like a prospect.”
“‘Prospect?’ Who’s teaching you all these words?”
“Hyung, focus.”
Jake cracks a smile, “Yes, fine. Prospect.”
“You’re not joking?” Riki checks, sounding both fierce and fragile.
Jake shakes his head, “I’m not joking. I wouldn’t joke about this.” His hand trails down Riki’s neck and settles on his shoulder, “You treat me really well. I’m not blind to that. I just—”
“God, please don’t try and tell me someone is going to be really lucky in the future, I don’t—” Riki starts in agitation and he makes to pull away.
“I’m not, I’m not,” Jake squeezes his shoulder, reeling him back in, “I wasn’t going to. You’re so good to me and I’m lucky. I’m the lucky one. Thank you, Riki. I just wish I could be good to you too. Hyung always wants to give you everything, you know that? Jungwon thinks I indulge you too much and that’s why you turned out so spoiled.”
Riki lets out a short laugh under his breath, knocking their foreheads. Then he sighs, draping himself over Jake with a little groan of contentment. Jake is plastered flat to the bed, Riki buried against his throat. He wraps his arms around his maknae’s waist, running his hands slowly over his back.
“Niki,” Jake says quietly.
“I’ll be fine, hyung,” Riki replies just as quietly, reading the hidden question in his voice, “You just keep treating me like you always do.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. No one loves me better than you do,” Riki murmurs. Jake feels his heart melt at his words.
“Should I—Is there anything else I can do?”
“Hmmm,” he hums and Jake flinches at the sensation against his sensitive throat. Riki laughs, pinning his shoulders down and blowing air against his neck just to hear him shriek and thrash about.
He lifts his head to watch Jake, grinning. The grin fades after a minute and Jake looks up at him curiously, raising his eyebrows.
“Can I kiss you? Just once?”
Jake shapes an ‘o’ with his mouth, blinking a few times. He expected it to some degree, but the request still takes him aback. Riki’s hands tighten involuntarily on his shoulders at his silence and Jake clears his throat, glancing to the side, gaze falling on his phone sitting on the nightstand.
“I’d have to ask Jay.”
Conflicting emotions pass through Riki’s eyes and then he shakes his head at himself, peeling himself off of Jake. “Never mind. Forget it.”
“I mean,” Jake glances at his phone again, “I have a feeling Jay will let you.”
Riki looks at him weirdly and snorts, sitting on his knees next to him, “Let me? Like Jay’s your owner or something.”
Jake flushes deeply and prays Riki reads it as embarrassment at the idea of it and not embarrassment out of guilt. “I’m just saying.”
Riki frowns at him, head tilted. “Are you serious?”
Jake nods, already crawling across the bed to grab his phone. Riki lands a slap on his ass to no surprise, and Jake barely even registers it at this point.
“Wait, you’re actually asking him?” Riki looks a little nervous, hovering in front of Jake like he might steal his phone away.
“Yes. Can you sit down and chill.”
Riki glances around like he only just now realized he’s on his knees and towering over Jake. He sits cross-legged across from Jake, matching his position. He rests his chin in the cup of his hands, elbows braced on his legs.
Jake shoots Jay an opening message and thankfully, he responds within the minute.
Jayla
Riki confessed
Jongseongie
Oh
How did that go?
Please tell me you were nice to him
Jayla
What the fuck do you take me for?
I was so nice
I was nicer than nice
Jongseongie
Sure
So whyd you text me?
Dont tell me you accepted his confession
You would
Jayla
HUH
I DID NO SUCH THING
What the fuck we’re literally dating ?????
Jongseongie
Come on Jake
Jayla
Do not come on Jake me
Jongseongie
He could ask for your hand and youd sigh about it for a bit but youd cut it off
If he looked miserable enough I wouldnt be surprised if you gave in
Youre weak like that
Jayla
Okay first of all why do you not sound upset by that prospect
Jongseongie
🤷♂️
Jayla
Don’t fucking shrug at me idiot
Jongseongie
Hes your baby
Hes been really intent about making you take him seriously you know
Jayla
I know
Jongseongie
Yeah so
Jayla
I don’t know what you’re trying to say and I’m ignoring you now
He asked if he could kiss me
Just once
For closure? I think
Jongseongie
You really didnt accept his confession?
Jayla
Dude something is wrong with you
And weren’t you just jealous about Heeseung hyung the other day
Jongseongie
Thats different
And you can tell Niki I’m fine with it
I’m just surprised I guess. Nikis always been special to you. You can never help but give in to him
Jayla
I’m in love with you Jay
Not Riki or whoever else
Jongseongie
I know that I just mean if its Niki I wouldnt mind sharing
I think you think I’m insecure but I’m not. I’m not the other guys
Jayla
You’re so strange
Jongseongie
Whatever you say
Give the kid his kiss and go to sleep
You were dead tired after the concert why are you still up
Jayla
Maknae is keeping me up what else
Jongseongie
Be nice to him
Jayla
Omg why don’t you just date him instead
Jongseongie
Hes like my little brother you freak
Jayla
BUT YOURE OKAY WITH SHARING ME?!!?!?
Park Jongseong strange is too nice of a word for you
“He’s fine with it,” Jake says, turning his phone off before Jay can reply and spike his blood pressure any more, “I told you.”
Riki eyes him. “You guys are really…”
It has Jake feeling defensive, pouting as he tips his chin up and dares him to continue, “You guys what?”
“Nothing. I just don’t get you guys.”
“You don’t have to,” Jake says, leaning back on his hands, “You wanted a kiss, right? Come get it.”
Riki tries to hide a smirk but manages poorly, “That’s too provocative.”
Jake rolls his eyes. “Hurry up. I wanted to be asleep thirty minutes ago.”
“You’re like a baby,” Riki teases, leaning forward to crowd him, “Cranky when it’s past your bed time.”
Jake doesn’t reply, just tilts his head for ease of access, lifting one hand to his neck and bringing him in because he has an inkling this might be Riki’s first kiss or at least a number he could count on one hand. As his hyung, he should guide him.
There is the slightest, most hesitant pressure against his mouth before Riki gives in and their lips fit snugly against each other’s, one hand curling around Jake’s jaw. He keeps it relatively chaste, which surprises Jake. He had expected him to try and slip his tongue into the mix.
Jake moves his lips with a small sigh through his nose, leading him. Riki, the quick study that he is, figures out the rhythm quickly, taking over. His hands are gentle on Jake’s face, thumbs stroking over his cheeks. He leans in, more and more, until Jake has to arch his back and crane his neck, clinging to his shoulders for balance.
When they part, it’s with a gasp. Riki looks ragged—proud, a little regretful. He huffs for air, looking away. “Good?” Jake asks, still a bit breathless.
“Yeah,” Riki nods, eyes wild around the corners, “Good.”
“Good,” Jake repeats, falling on his back and then curling up on his side, moving his phone to the edge of the bed, next to his pillow, “Sleep now.”
Riki snorts and snuggles up behind him, his leg once more sliding between his. “Promise to respect me in the morning.”
“You?” Jake says, sleepy but incredulous, “Promise to respect me. I’m the taken man being whored out.”
“You could have said no,” Riki points out.
Jake doesn’t have a response to that. He tucks the blanket under his chin with a frown. Riki laughs into his ear, making him shiver, his arm warm around Jake’s waist. He flattens his palm against his stomach and exhales through his mouth, tired and amused.
“Good night, hyung,” he says.
Dating does not mean that Jay is magically any less annoying.
“Park Jongseong!” Jay glances up from his guitar guiltily, eyes wide and reconciled with his fate. “How many times have I told you to stop putting your shoes on top of mine,” Jake barks.
Jay looks away and mumbles, “There was no space in the stand.”
“Then leave your stupid shoes on the ground! Are they royalty or something?” Jake shouts in exasperation, throwing his hands up, “And throw your fucking banana peels away, stop putting them on the couch.”
Jungwon sighs, leaning back into the couch with a vague smile. He looks entertained by Jake’s yelling and Jay’s sullen expression if nothing else.
“I throw them away when I get up,” Jay replies, raising a feeble protest.
“Throw it away now,” Jake demands, snapping his fingers at him and then pointing at the kitchen, “It stinks up the room.”
Jay groans though he does listen, ever so carefully setting his guitar on the couch and then collecting the banana peel he draped on the arm. Jake watches him with a mildly disgusted look, tracking his path. Jay makes a big show of tossing the peel in the garbage, which has Jake rolling his eyes.
He finally removes his jacket and hangs it up. Jungwon snickers, “Couldn’t even wait five minutes before nagging?”
“If he listened the first time, I wouldn’t have to nag,” Jake says tetchily, eyeing Jay with irritation as he returns to reclaim his spot.
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Jay mutters to himself, but Jake just barely catches it. He slams the door of the tiny coat closet shut and the other two wince, Jungwon swatting Jay on the shoulder with the back of his hand.
Jake picks up a pair of shoes from the top of the stand and holds them out towards the living room even if it is a little too far for Jay to see clearly. “You see these? These are new shoes. And now they have marks all over them because you can’t listen to a word I say.” Jake throws them back on the stand and stalks off to his room, buzzing with annoyance he knows is excessive but can’t seem to shake off. It’s just fucking shoes. If he wipes them down, they’ll be good as new.
He flops down on his bed starfish, staring at the ceiling as he breathes deeply and lets the frustration fade. He can never hold on to anger long, especially not with his members. Sometimes he almost wishes he could. Wishes he could nurse a grudge—get mad and stay mad for longer than a few pathetic minutes. Really hold them accountable for the emotions they evoke in him, rare as it is for him to get fed up with them.
He thinks it’s maybe five minutes later when there’s a knock on his door. He grunts in acknowledgement and answer. The door creeps opens, like the person behind it is bracing themselves, and then Jay peers in with hesitant eyes.
“Hi,” he says slowly. He looks so stupid. Jake snorts, waving him in.
“I’m not going to bite.”
“Of course you won’t,” Jay says, confidence flooding back into his voice, “Not unless I give you permission to.”
“Keep your perverted little kinks to yourself,” Jake says.
“You enjoy them more than I do,” Jay smirks, moving to the end of Jake’s bed where his legs are hanging off. He uses a foot to part them, occupying the space between, and then bends down to scoop his arms under Jake’s back. “Legs around my waist.”
Jake obeys almost mindlessly and then his eyes blow wide and he yelps when Jay hefts him up and tosses him further up the bed. He lifts himself onto his elbows, scooting back slightly until he hits the pillows as Jay sets a knee on the bed and crawls forward. He keeps closing in on Jake, slinking between his legs and only stopping when their noses threaten to collide. Then he tilts his head delicately, cutting even that distance with his lips.
Jake hums, enjoying how thoroughly Jay kisses him. The only way to describe it is indulgent. His tongue moves in languid and unhurried strokes against his. Jay kisses goodbye to his lips and finds his jaw instead, trailing his mouth down the side of his throat to find that shockingly erogenous spot halfway down. Jake moans, fingers buried in his hair, arching and baring more of his neck.
Jay’s hands find his waist, pulling him into his lap as he kneels up. Jake clutches him close to his neck, shivering as Jay lavishes open-mouthed kisses all over his throat. Jay gets his hands down the back of his pants, stretching his elastic waistband, cupping and kneading his ass with both hands.
A shaky sigh escapes Jake and he tugs at Jay’s hair, dragging his head back up so he can catch his mouth again. Jay kisses him hard this time, as if trying to drag him away from all thoughts, tipping Jake onto his back and looming over him. His hips grind down between Jake’s thighs and he breaks their liplock to moan, Jay’s own quieter noise of pleasure pressed into his neck.
“Hyung! I’m still here!” Jungwon calls from the living room. Ears of a bat, Jake swears.
“Then find somewhere else to be!” Jay replies. Jake jerks his head back in surprise with a laugh. Jay wanting Jungwon further away? Hell must be freezing over.
“Are you that desperate to get laid?” Jake asks with a smile.
Jay drops a kiss on his curved lips. “It’s been a while.”
“It’s been a week.”
“Too long,” Jay says solemnly, kissing him again.
“What makes you so sure I’m going to put out,” Jake bites his lip, then gestures generally towards the front of the apartment, “Especially after you ruined my shoes and my couch.”
“You’re so dramatic,” Jay cocks his head, studying him with an entertained grin, “How do you live like that.”
“That’s not my problem anymore. You’re the one who has to live with it now.”
“I do, don’t I.” The amusement melts into something fond and adoring that Jake still has a difficult time facing head on without warning, so he diverts his attention to the ceiling light to escape the brunt of it.
“Stop looking elsewhere. Look at me.” Jay grips his jaw, tugging his head straight. Jake looks into his eyes, overwhelmed with everything he finds. It’s like staring at the clear night sky. The more he looks, the more he sees and the brighter it all grows. In Hanja, Jay’s name means star collector. How fitting. Does it make Jake a star then, since he’s been so thoroughly captured?
“I am looking at you,” Jake whispers, opening his legs wider as the body between it settles on him, shifting to make himself more comfortable for Jay, “I’m always looking at you. I missed you, you know.”
Jay frowns and smiles at the same time, eyebrows drawing together. “I’ve seen you all week.” His cheek comes to rest on Jake’s chest.
“I meant… generally, I guess. When we moved, I was so happy to have my own room. But I also missed you. A lot.”
“We see each other everyday,” Jay says.
Annoyance spikes in Jake and momentarily strips him of his speech. He opens and closes his mouth then settles for a hard glare. Jay yields to it sheepishly, nuzzling a kiss against his sternum in consolation.
“Whatever,” Jake dismisses, fixing his eyes to the side on his desk.
“Look, I’m sorry. I was just joking.”
“Well, don’t,” Jake says in a terse voice, “I was being serious.”
“It’s like I can never do anything right lately. Nothing seems to please my picky wife.”
“Yah.” He chokes on his breath, scandalized, gaze snapping down to Jay’s mirthful smile. Riki and Jungwon and all the others really, because everyone seems to be in on it, have poisoned his mind with that strict wife nonsense, and Jay has taken it and run with it. He adjusts to the side so he can prod below Jake’s belly button, then flattens and rubs his hand over the area.
“Are you on your period? Should I get you some chocolate and a heating pad?”
“Park Jongseong!” Jake shouts, bucking to get him off. He clambers on top of Jay’s laughing form, fitting his hands around his neck and giving him a good, hard shake. “I’ll kill you! What is wrong with you!”
But Jay keeps wheezing and his laugh has become throaty as it does when he’s thoroughly amused. He puts little effort in removing Jake’s hands from his neck. “It’s not funny,” Jake pummels his chest and the palms raised up in surrender, “Jerk. Stop laughing, you’re such a dick.”
“Hey, men can have periods. What do I know?”
Jake sneers at him, “Okay, asshole. I’m so thrilled you’re inclusive, but as you’re well aware I don’t have a fucking uterus.”
Jay rubs over his abdomen one more time to get his last laughs, and Jake slaps his arm hard enough he recoils with a wince, clutching the quickly blooming red spot on his forearm.
“I’m never saying anything sincere to you ever again,” Jake says, climbing off of him. He scrounges for some comfortable clothes to wear, pulling out wide-legged sweatpants and a cotton shirt he’s pretty sure belongs to Riki. Or Sunghoon. He takes a closer look at it. …Maybe Heeseung.
Jay silently watches him dress. His mouth is open like he was halfway to saying something before he was distracted. His eyes rove over Jake’s stomach and chest, briefly flicking up to catch his gaze.
His mouth widens. Afraid that whatever he says next will only further ruin his mood, Jake throws his worn clothes at him and bolts out of his room.
“Aw, Jake, come on,” Jay chases after him, fumbling when his foot gets caught in the blanket, “Please, let’s talk.”
“Don’t wanna,” Jake says childishly, escaping into the kitchen. When Jay tries to approach him, he opens the fridge in his face. With no way to pass around the door since there isn’t enough space between it and the kitchen island, Jay sighs and drops his forehead against the metal.
“I’m sorry for joking around when you were being sincere. Can you tell me what you were trying to say?”
Jake ignores him, perusing the fridge. He has no real appetite but he grabs a drink to keep up pretenses, closing the door and turning away from Jay.
“Jake. Hey,” Jay makes a grab for his wrist but he dodges, “Baby, c’mon. Are you sulking?”
“Don’t talk to me, Jay.”
“Jesus, you sound like a—” Jay shuts his mouth when Jake whirls around with an incredulous stare. It wasn’t even five minutes ago that Jake was annoyed about the wife comment and he’s already right back to his stupid comparisons. Jay grimaces, following after him meekly.
Jake is surprised to find that Jungwon had stayed. He’s stretched out across the sofa, headphones in. He glances up from his phone when he catches motion in his peripheral vision, plucking an AirPod out with his eyebrows raised in question. He says, “That was fast. Even for someone with bad stamina.”
Jake rolls his eyes. “Nothing happened. Jay was too busy being his usual, irritating self.” He lifts Jungwon’s legs to take a seat and Jay steals in beside him before he lowers them.
“I said I was sorry,” Jay wheedles.
“It’s too late, Jongseong.”
“Ooh, birth name, scary,” Jungwon fakes a shudder, smiling, “How’d you piss Jake hyung off? Don’t you know how the saying goes, hyung? Happy—”
“Wait, Jungwon, don’t—”
“—wife, happy life.”
Jake says nothing, only drops Jungwon’s legs from his lap and walks away.
“—say that word,” Jay finishes lamely behind him.
Jake sighs once he’s in his room, sinking down on the edge of his bed. He’s right back to where he started, plus a drink he doesn’t even want. He’s not… He’s not mad or anything. There is only low level, persistent irritation, something that Jay is uniquely skilled at evoking from him.
The wife bit doesn’t actually bother him even if it can occasionally be mortifying, especially when the other members join in. Anyway, the moment Jay has time, he’ll corrupt it into a kink of some sort and embarrass Jake with it in bed, so really, Jake is savoring the innocence of the term while he can.
The frustrating part was that he was trying to be vulnerable about something he already feels silly about, but Jay was goofing around instead of listening. Yet even that frustration falls flat because in the long run it was nothing to throw a fit over. Jay had sobered up quick enough, understanding that Jake wasn’t in the mood for jokes.
Jake groans, dropping his head into his hands. Maybe he woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Maybe today was just bound for failure. He was already touchy that Jungwon made him late this morning with one of his absurdly long showers, and then put off by how difficult his recording session was because he couldn’t inject the right emotion into his voice.
He falls back and rolls over on the bed, burying his face against the blanket. Today is not his day.
Jay knocks and barely waits for Jake’s annoyed grunt to let himself in. “Feels like deja vu,” he says, shutting the door.
“I’m not in the mo—ungh.” Jake gasps at Jay folding himself over him, pinning him down like he’s taking him from the back. His fingers dig into Jake’s waist and his groin fits perfectly to his ass. He wriggles and gets nowhere. “I said, I’m not in—”
“I heard what you said,” Jay cuts him off, “But as your owner, I know what’s best for you. It’s my job. So I’ll take care of my puppy how I see fit.”
Jake presses his mouth to the sheets to soak up any moans that might slip free. Suddenly, Jake is totally in the mood for sex. Jay slides a hand between the bed and Jake’s stomach, finding skin where his shirt has ridden up. He kisses the back of his neck, then shifts so his mouth brushes the shell of his ear, “I may be rough today, like we discussed last week. You know what to do if you don’t want that.”
Jake shivers in excitement, grabbing a fistful of the blanket in each hand. He wants it. Jay had been the one to suggest they explore Jake’s latent masochistic tendencies, but Jake was the one who decided on what that entailed. And he wants all of it.
Jay peels off his back. One hand closes in Jake’s hair and his neck strains to follow the insistent pull. “First thing we need to remedy is your attitude.”
Wait, what? Jake feels indignation flare up. He stumbles as Jay seats himself on the end of the bed and wrangles him onto his knees between his legs.
“Attitude?” he echoes.
Jay raises his eyebrows, leaning back. “What is rule number one, Jake?”
Dogs don’t talk. But all his goodwill has drained away because what the hell does Jay mean by attitude? He cannot possibly be referring to Jake getting upset with him. No way in hell is he about to sit here and listen to him call it an overreaction or whatever else.
“It wasn’t attitude,” Jake says in a quickly heating tone, “I think I was pretty justified when you were being a jer—Ah!”
He stares wide-eyed at the floor, a shaky exhale tumbling from his mouth. His cheek stings, prickling with pain. He blinks a few times and lifts a hand to his face, feeling over the lightly throbbing area, taking stock of his body and recognizing that it turned him on. Jay cups his uninjured cheek, turning his head towards him.
“I asked you something,” Jay says, eyes narrowed and dark in a way Jake has rarely seen from him because Jay is rarely stern, “What is rule number one, Jake?”
He trembles once, lifting both hands to cover his mouth, gaze cast down in shame. “Yes, good,” Jay says, and Jake only realizes he was looming over him when Jay straightens up and the invisible pressure on his shoulders lessens, “Don’t make me use the muzzle on you. I will, but you won’t like it.”
Jake jerks his head up as his hands fall to his lap, eyes widened. Since when did they have a muzzle? Jay smiles crookedly, “You heard me. Muzzle. When you have a dog with this much attitude, you have to be prepared.”
“It’s not attitude,” Jake mumbles before he remembers himself, but it’s too late. His head snaps the other way this time and he has to catch himself on a hastily thrown out palm. A shocked whine colors the air.
“‘It’s not attitude’ but you can’t even follow one simple rule,” Jay scoffs. He stands, moving towards Jake’s dresser to pull out the paraphernalia stored in the bottom right drawer. Claiming ease of access, Jay had him keep one set of everything in his room, with a matching set hidden under Jay’s bed. After everything Jay had ordered during their tour finally arrived, it had required an entire drawer to be stored.
Crouched in front of the open drawer, Jay considers three different collars before selecting one. It’s a simple navy blue velvet collar. At the front is a satin bow of the same shade and a dangling gold heart charm with ‘If I’m lost call my owner’ followed by Jay’s number inscribed on the back. He picks out the ears and tail much faster, both a soft brown—the ears are folded and triangular like an Australian Shepherd’s, which is why Jay had bought them, and the tail is wired to have it stand up right.
Satisfied for now, he shuts the drawer and comes to a stop at Jake’s back. “I don’t know why I have to ask you this. What is rule number two?”
Jake blanches, hastening to strip his clothes off. He tosses them into a pile by his closet door, then cranes his head back to look upside down at Jay for approval. He receives a noncommittal hum. Gentle fingers slide the headband into his hair, adjusting it so it fits snugly and fluffing his hair to cover up any appearance of wire. Jake lifts his hand to touch an ear, rubbing it between his fingers. He likes how soft the fur is.
He holds still as Jay belts the tail around his waist, trying to sink into the fuzzy headspace he unlocked that first day, where pleasing Jay was all that mattered, shame and pain becoming irrelevant. Jay pats his ass once the tail is secured and Jake shifts on his knees, feeling the tail sway with the motion. They haven’t played with this particular set yet, but Jake has a feeling it’ll quickly become a favorite.
“Lift your head up.” Jay returns to his seat on the bed, holding the collar open. Jake leans in and tilts his chin up to bare his neck for Jay. He wraps the collar around Jake’s throat, “Turn. Slowly, puppy, don’t rush.”
Jake shuffles around, his tail thumping against Jay’s leg as he does so, and Jay laughs to himself. “Cute.”
The collar has two D rings at the back that are tied shut with a long ribbon. Jay had practiced tying a fashionable bow just for this, and Jake can’t help the fluttering in his stomach at how pretty it must look. How pretty he must look. “There,” Jay says, adjusting the bow to sit right, the two tails trickling down Jake’s back. He strokes Jake’s hair, scratching behind an ear. “Stay just like this.”
Jake stares at the ground as his ears tune into Jay’s actions. There’s a bit of rustling on his bed, some movements from one side of it to the other, before Jay circles in front of him, Jake’s phone in hand.
“I should make you a show dog,” Jay says. He uses his foot to nudge Jake’s legs further apart, which makes him sink down even deeper, and presses at the curve of his back to arch it a little more. Jake curls his fingers shyly against the flooring and peers up at the camera with a flush starting in his neck and ears. He feels dirty and wanted, pretty and exposed.
Jay takes a few photos and then does something with them. Most likely he sends them to himself. The phone gets tossed on the bed and Jay bends to catch his throat, tilting his head up to kiss him. Jake rises on his knees to meet him, clinging to his shoulders.
“How in the world did I get such a pretty puppy,” Jay says, thumbing away the spit on Jake’s lips, “It’s selfish of me to keep you to myself. The other guys would be thrilled if I let them look.”
Jake says nothing, nuzzling his nose and then his cheek into Jay’s palm. After all, his owner knows what’s best for him.
“Does it still hurt?” Jay asks, examining the side of his face. Jake huffs in answer, shaking his head. “Hm. Well, that’s unfortunate. I should hit you harder next time.”
Jake sucks in a sharp breath, a tiny whimper catching in his throat. Jay smiles warmly like pure sadism hadn’t just poured from his mouth. He pinches Jake’s cheek, reigniting the previous ache, and Jake whines like a kicked puppy as he tugs and wiggles the skin.
“Ah, one more thing,” Jay remembers. Jake watches as he chooses a dildo from the drawer, flesh-toned and semi-realistic with a suction base. He looks over at Jake while he also picks out a bottle of lube and a few condoms, telling him, “Move forward three steps. Face the bed.”
So Jake shuffles forward approximately three steps and faces the bed. Jay hands him the lube and keeps the other two. “Finger yourself.”
Jake processes this and begins to slide his legs out from underneath himself to sit on the floor, before he hesitates and starts to turn over onto all fours instead. Then, unsure, he stops and stares helplessly at Jay instead.
“However you want,” Jay says, one hand braced behind his back on the mattress.
Jake deliberates, frozen in a twisted shape. All fours, he decides. Even if it is a more revealing position, his tail won’t be crushed underneath him. Settled on his hands and knees, Jake elicits a pleased noise from his audience.
He has to lower himself down to his forearms to open the lube bottle though, and it props his ass in the air, opening him up further. Jake gives himself a moment to bury his warm face in the crook of his arm, before fiddling with the lube. It may be nothing Jay hasn’t already seen, but he feels terribly shameless. His tail sways gently with every little shift of his body, and he hopes his stupid boyfriend with his stupid furry fetish is getting his fill.
Fingers wet, he navigates around his tail to prod at his hole, circling his pointer finger around the tight rim. Breathing meditatively, Jake sinks the first finger in, slow but sure, until it disappears nearly to the third knuckle. He exhales deeply then rocks it gently, all the way in and all the way out, until his body has accepted the intrusion. The second finger presses up against the first and he angles his pointer finger so it tugs at his rim, shoving his middle finger into the gap that opens up.
Like this he can’t get to his prostate. Not that it really matters with the way his dick is stiff and pearling at the tip. He rests his weight on his chest and his free arm, reaching from under his body to stuff three fingers in. His entire body tenses and lurches when he grazes over his prostate and his tail wags hard with the motion.
The sound of a zipper being undone pricks his ears. Jake rests his cheek on the cool floor, the one Jay pinched meanly, moaning at the stretch of his fingers and the pressure against his prostate. If he’s behaving like a whore, so be it.
“Look at you,” Jay murmurs, “You’re loveliest when you listen, you know that? Every time you use that pretty head of yours, you start acting out.”
Jake drags the pads of his fingers over his prostate, mostly the middle finger which is the longest, and drools on the floor, from both his mouth and cock. He presses firm over that spot and rubs circles into it, and his cock kicks against his belly, leaving a trail of precum behind.
“Good enough. Take your fingers out. Sit up.”
All of Jay’s instructions are simple sentences, short commands like Jake is incapable of understanding something longer than five words.
His knees are starting to ache from the wood tiles. Jay reaches forward, rising from the bed slightly, and sticks the dildo on the floor in front of Jake. “Ride it,” he says, tossing a condom at him.
Jake’s face drops. He stares at Jay, waiting for him to say sike. But Jay only waits patiently. His jeans are open and he’s hard under the trappings of his underwear, but he makes no move to further free himself as if he only needed to relieve the pressure of the denim against his dick.
Jake picks up the foil packet reluctantly, busying himself with rolling the condom down, slathering the toy with lube, and ensuring the base is firmly stuck to the floor. It’s a large toy. Jay bought it with the intention of it being bigger than what Jake was most comfortable taking.
Right as he’s about to straddle either side the toy, Jay says, “Hold on. Lick it first.”
Jake’s gaze shoots up to his, disbelieving. It’s drenched in lube. It’s a fucking dildo. Licking it serves no purpose other than Jay’s amusement. The lack of instant obedience must wear on Jay’s nerves because his eyes flash with irritation and he bites each word out, “Stick your tongue out and lick it, mutt.”
Jake grimaces. He lets his tongue loll out and laps at the tip, toes curling at the synthetic taste of the lube. “Thoroughly,” Jay scolds him, “Don’t half-ass it.” Jake glares down at the dildo, too afraid to turn such a look on Jay, but ducks his head to lick a stripe from the base to the tip. He repeats a few times, head tilted to the side, then dribbles the lube that pooled on his tongue over the tip. Jay doesn’t allow him the use of his hands or mouth during a blowjob when they play, so all Jake can do is lick feverishly at the thin latex of the condom, tracing over the faint veins on the dildo like it’s real.
He continues to spit the lube out on the head of the dildo, using his lips to spread the frothy globs evenly over its length. It smears over his chin and up to his nose and Jake is this close to losing his mind, but Jay calls him off at the perfect time. He moves to wipe his face clean on the inside of his upper arm but Jay stops him. “What are you doing? Leave it.”
Jake is going to kill himself.
He whines, fingers clawed against his thighs in restraint. Jay shows no signs of mercy so he whimpers, crawling forward to tug at the bottom of his pants. Please, he begs in his mind, Please for the love of God let me clean this mess from my fucking face before I die.
“What is it? What does my puppy want?”
Jake makes a motion like he’s wiping his face clean. “No, Jake. Is that how dogs behave?” Jay scolds. Jake’s mouth drops open and a curse almost tumbles out. Fuck his life. He scowls, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to picture what Layla would do if she had something on her muzzle. Usually… she rubs her face all over the carpet, her bed, or some soft surface.
Tentatively, he rests his mouth against Jay’s leg. When he doesn’t move to stop him, Jake rubs himself clean against the rough denim. And though Jay may now be the one with a stain on his jeans, Jake is the one thoroughly embarrassed. He feels like an animal.
“You can’t help how dirty you are,” Jay says kindly, stroking his head and his ears—the fake ones that is. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. I knew what I was getting into. Why don’t you be good for me and put on a show.”
Jake is confident in his lower body strength, but not that confident. Moreover, he’s tired. He had planned to sleep after his personal schedule since Heeseung and Riki kept him up late last night, but Jay has thrown a wrench in that.
Riding is hard, not that Jay would know. Jake had inquired, a few days after their first venture into pet play in Macau, if Jay wanted to switch. Jake may be more inclined to the receiving role but he knows he would be just as good—if not better than the other three—at giving, too. Jay had dismissed the suggestion without second thought. Jake had only rolled his eyes and acquiesced.
“It’s not that I’ve never bottomed,” Had been Jay’s belated defense five minutes later, even though Jake hadn’t asked or really cared, “In fact, I did so both times I went all the way with Sunoo. I just prefer taking care of my spoiled wife.” In response, Jake had slapped his arm and shoved his headphones in, so the conversation had died there.
When he tries to use his hand to line up the toy with his rim, Jay clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Freeze,” he says, standing. Jake holds still, watching over his shoulder as he picks something else out from their collection.
He shuts the drawer with his foot and turns, and that’s when Jake sees it. Paws. Blood drains from his face.
“Hands out,” Jay orders. He lets them hang weakly at the wrists like he would if he were miming a puppy. Jay kisses his forehead in approval, before fitting the round paws over each hand. They’re rendered absolutely useless now without individual fingers or any way to curl his palm.
Jake is sure he looks foolish trying to fit the dildo while it slips and slides between his ass or against the underside of his cock. Jay certainly looks entertained. It takes patience, lowering himself centimeter by centimeter, waiting for his body to open up around the girth so the resistance doesn’t force it out. When he has the head in, he sinks halfway down. It slides past his prostate, too thick not to. To ease the burden from his thighs, he sits until his ass rests lightly against his heels. His legs twitch, trying to shut, a small tremble starting up in his left thigh. There’s still a good two inches untouched at the base but Jake is full as is.
He lays his paws flat on the ground in front of him, using that as leverage to grind his hips down on the dildo. Jay puts an end to that attempt quickly, “Bounce, puppy. Come on, make it look nice.” Bouncing does less for him, but Jake’s pleasure isn’t exactly at the top of Jay’s priorities right now.
Jake deflates, paws awkwardly tucked between his thighs so they can graze the ground for some support, as he levers himself up and down. He moves haltingly without any proper leverage, the heart charm on his collar thumping against his clavicle, ears flopping, and tail swaying hard. Sweat starts beading over his forehead. He squints an eye shut at the exertion, sticking his tongue out as he heaves for breath.
Pleasure builds but it’s slow going, dampened by his struggle to ride the dildo. The size of it does him no favors, taking up so much space in his pelvis that he feels even more off-balance. He must be at it for more than eight minutes, cock leaking but too uncomfortable to come. Craving some relief, he whines at Jay.
“What is it?”
Jake looks down at the segment of the toy not buried inside of him, then up at Jay with a pleading whimper. “You want something bigger?” Jay is teasing, made obvious by his tone, but Jake shakes his head in horror.
“Then if you don’t, keep going.”
In sheer frustration, Jake cries out wordlessly, his entire body flinching with the force of it. Jay’s teeth show when he grins, “Oh, what’s all this?” Jake lets out a feeble sound of desperation, shifting so restlessly the toy nearly slips out, torn between being good and lifting the rest of the way off. When no further response comes, he mewls, face flushed and tears welling up.
Jay’s eyes darken, hunger replacing aloof amusement. He slinks off the bed, crouching in front of him. He grabs Jake by the waist and forces him down the toy, all seven odd inches bullying their way into him. Jake screams, voice cracking. Two tears escape from the shock.
Jay twists his face into an expression of faux-sympathy, swiping his tears away with overdone concern. “My poor wife,” he croons, cupping his chin, “My poor, sweet, disobedient wife,” a growl tinges the last two words. His palm lands heavy across Jake’s face, and only the tight grip that finds his hair keeps him from falling to the side.
Jake pants, adrenaline zipping through his veins. His cheek smarts and burns. Heat coils in his groin. One slap pushed him closer to coming than ten minutes of riding the toy. It leaves him disgustingly pleased, how thoroughly Jay owns him, how freely and unapologetically he treats him. Jake is his to fuck, to hit, to use.
“Why don’t you listen?” Jay is scathing, upper lip curling with his disdain, “Dumb mutt. Did I not tell you to keep going? Stop using that pretty head of yours and just obey.”
Another two tears drop. Jay dabs them away, kissing Jake’s spit-wet mouth. His thumb runs musingly over Jake’s lower lip after as he says, “I know what’s best for you, puppy, all you have to do is listen. If it hurts, let it hurt. If you hate it, so be it. You still have to obey.”
When he says it like that, it sounds so simple. Jake ducks his head, pressing his nose to Jay’s palm. Jay watches, opening his hand fully. Jake licks the center of his palm then looks at him, silently begging him to understand. He laps at his thumb as he holds eye contact.
“Are you apologizing? Aren’t you sweet,” Jay murmurs, laughing when Jake huffs and shoves the top of his head into his face and he ends up with a mouthful of hair and fur ears.
He kisses his crown, scratching gently at the nape of his neck. Jake nuzzles into him, needing the comfort. “Everything is forgiven,” Jay reassures him, “You’re my good boy, you just needed a reminder.”
Jake blinks up at him. He does his very best to look pathetic, wielding the kicked puppy look Sunghoon likes to complain about falling victim to. Jay stares back at him tentatively, brushing away the strands of hair trapped by sweat against his forehead. “No more toy?” he asks in a tone Jake is fairly certain he’s used himself with Layla before. He nods, whining plaintively and radiating as much innocence as he can muster.
“Okay, puppy,” Jay chucks him under the chin fondly, “We can be done with it. But instead…” Jay releases him and moves onto the bed, settling further back this time. He rests against the pillows, back braced against the headboard.
“Come here,” he says, patting his lap like a sleaze. Jake crawls forward on his sore knees until he’s straddling him. Jay had taken the opportunity during Jake’s slow trek to lower his pants and boxers, so when he sits, his cock nestles itself against his ass.
Jay strokes a hand down his chest, rubbing his thumb over the skin below his bellybutton. It has Jake shivering, clenching. He paws at Jay’s shirt, clumsily trying to push it up with the stupid paws on. “Need some eye candy?” Jay is smirking and Jake internally groans at feeding into his ego but he nods, letting out a quiet woof when there’s an expectant pause.
Because his boyfriend is a freak, he has an actual preference on how Jake barks. Meong meong is too cute to him. Woof is the right level of debasing. Jake swears it’s the American in him.
Jake might have the most defined abs, but the toned stretch of Jay’s stomach and the small rolls from his sitting position make his mouth water. He wishes he could touch without these goddamn paws in the way, but he has to make do with some ungainly groping.
Jay takes him by the hips and raises him up enough to direct his cock into his fucked open hole. He pulls him down in one rapid motion so Jake sits flush against his groin, and Jake nearly convulses. It feels like Jay is piercing through him, and he presses his paws to his face as he moans and trembles, trying to cope.
Jay pats his hip comfortingly. “Get to work,” he says, and the bastard sounds kind like he’s not simply prolonging Jake’s torture, only swapping a silicone cock for a real one. Fine, Jake thinks, fine.
Maybe he’s losing it, maybe Jay’s goddamn gaslighting (puppylighting?) is working, but there is something terribly freeing in not thinking for himself. If Jay wants to be ridden, who is Jake to say otherwise.
He plants his paws on Jay’s abdomen for leverage and rolls his hips down. Thankfully, Jay allows him to ride whichever way he wants, Jake’s pleasure finally at the forefront of his mind. Which means Jake doesn’t have to move excessively to put on a show and he can rock and circle his hips in smaller motions, letting Jay’s cock rub up and press against all the right spots.
Jake is moaning now, frantic, cock weeping on both of their bellies. Suddenly he’s on the edge of coming. When he stutters to a stop, overwhelmed, Jay slaps him across the face for it, and he seizes up, vision searing white. Fuck. Do it again, he thinks, fingers curling uselessly inside the toy paws, and Jay does, red hot on the other cheek. He probably won’t bruise, but he’ll need to ice his face.
“Move,” Jay sneers, digging his short nails into Jake’s waist and hips until he’s squeaking in pain, and it takes him two tries to regather the momentum. Jay must have rewired his brain because how else can he explain the way pain translates into pleasure when it comes from Jay’s hand. How can the throbbing in his cheek make him so turned on he wants to die.
He has to be sick in the head. He has to. Because Jay fits three fingers in the back of his velvet collar and tugs, tightening it around the front of Jake’s throat, and the slight cut off of his airway sets off fireworks in his nervous system. Jake scrabbles at Jay’s chest with his useless paws, bouncing in his lap with a fervor that borders on animalistic.
Jay’s eyes bore into him, watching, tracking, studying. Jake thinks his vision has gone blurry until he blinks and tears spill free. He has no voice, no way to tell Jay that he’s about to come, but he seems to know regardless, because the slowly loosening hold around Jake’s throat tightens up right before his orgasm hits, and it leaves Jake feeling like his brain is melting out of his ears.
His mouth opens in a silent scream, lungs empty of air. He folds over on himself, staggered by the intensity of his climax. Jay releases the collar immediately and soothes a hand down his back, the other coming up to stroke his hair.
He pants, twitching at every sudden stab of pleasure as the aftershocks fade. In a fit of mercy, Jay allows him to ride his orgasm out in peace, shushing his whimper when Jay shifts under him and his cock moves in Jake. But then Jake fucks up, muttering, “Sensitive,” in a whiny tone under his breath.
A hand closes around his throat, and Jake sucks in a rattled breath as he’s violently pulled off Jay’s cock and pinned to the bed, Jay looming over him. “You never learn,” Jay is nearly seething as he speaks. And that part of Jake’s mind that’s sick to the core, that pushes and pushes and pushes in hopes that Jay will one day sincerely retaliate, revels in it. This controlling, sadistic side of him he shows to no one else, Jake savors it.
The tail digs into Jake’s back painfully and he squirms, tense with anticipation. Jay stares at him a moment longer before sighing loudly, flipping him over onto his stomach. He draws Jake’s hips up and fixes his tail. Jake carefully presses the band of his dog ears down with a paw, trying to situate it from where it was knocked loose as a result of his desperate riding.
His lungs are full of air this time, so Jake shouts when Jay holds nothing back spanking his ass. He tries to crawl away, but Jay grabs him by an ankle and drags him back. “You’ll take it,” Jay says sternly, “You know what to say if you can’t.”
Jake buries his head against his hands, muffling his cries at each strike. Jay does not relent until what feels like every inch of Jake’s ass is hot to the touch. He flinches when Jay’s hand sweeps over his sore skin. “I don’t like to punish you,” Jay sighs, the liar, “but I can’t have such a disobedient pet. What good is a dog that can’t follow a word their owner says?”
Jake can only hold still and wait for Jay’s next move. He sucks in a nervous breath when something prods at his hole. There’s no way, Jake thinks, but he should have known. Jay sinks his cock in, filling him up. Jake is going to die. His prostate is so sore he wants to cry. And then Jay’s hips collide with his abused ass and he lets out a strangled groan, realizing just how Jay plans to torture him now.
He shakes his head and Jay laughs at him. “So you can come using me, but I can’t do the same?” He works himself in and out of Jake at a steady pace, but takes special care to slam his hips against his inflamed skin, pain flaring each time. A hand reaches under Jake and takes ahold of his cock, which is shamefully half-hard.
“Pain slut,” Jay tuts, but he says it so lowly that Jake was probably not meant to hear it, making it all the more hotter. He wonders what else Jay might say about him where he can’t hear.
Jay seems to find amusement in tugging at his tail, ordering him to bark a few times for no reason at all. He stops after a minute and Jake glances over his shoulder to check. Jay had found the phone he’d tossed on the bed earlier, and he brings it up, aiming the camera down at Jake. His ears, tail, and stretched out rim are on full display, painting a rather lewd picture. Not wanting his face to be captured on top of everything else, Jake hides in his arms. Jay laughs and puts the phone aside after snapping a few shots.
It takes Jay something like five minutes and a reapplication of lube to come. He stays inside of Jake and continues to jerk him off, using only the slickness provided by his cum. His free hand squeezes at Jake’s ass, nails raking across the inflamed skin, landing a slap here and there. Jake has the most painful orgasm of his life, unsure if it even felt good.
But he’s spent and satiated like never before, and he floats somewhere above his body. When Jay pulls out and there’s nothing to him hold up, his numb legs slide out from under him and he falls to the bed.
He drifts in a foggy blur, vaguely aware that Jay works on removing the puppy accessories from his body. Jay says something in his ear but the words pass right through his brain, so he only hums. He hears him sigh, and then there’s a bunch of rifling in the background as Jay searches his room for whatever it is. Probably Jay couldn’t find it, because Jake senses that he leaves the room and only returns after a couple of minutes.
“Should’ve expected Sunoo would have some,” Jay says, taking a seat by Jake’s prone form, “It’s not the same brand I have, but it’s a hundred percent so it should do.” Jake has no idea if Jay’s looking for a response or if he’s even talking to him given his tendency to ramble aloud, but he has no energy to reply.
He jumps weakly when Jay touches his ass, fingers coated in something cool and slick. Aloe vera gel is the easy guess. “How’s your face feeling?” Jay asks.
Jake focuses and finds that it feels a little hot and a little sore, but otherwise fine. “Need ice,” he says, turning his face to look at him. Jay nods, aloe vera-free fingers sweeping affectionately through his hair. “I’ll get you a cold compress after you shower.”
“Won’t the aloe just wash off in the shower?”
“Are you planning on standing anytime soon?” Jay asks, cocking an eyebrow at him. Okay, well. He’s got Jake there. “So I might as well try to soothe your skin in the meanwhile.”
Yeah, speaking of which. “You’re such a brute,” Jake pouts, “I was in so much pain.”
Jay’s eyes flicker and Jake nearly laughs in disbelief. Of course that went straight to his dick. Jay continues to smooth the aloe vera into his skin, and Jake continues to gaze at him.
“I like that,” he says abruptly. Jay pauses for a moment then looks at him, eyebrows raised in question.
Jesus, he thinks, looking at his open expression and kind eyes. If the world were a better place, Jake would have to complete the twelve labors of Heracles to be worthy of Jay’s hand, but instead he’s somehow gained him while doing everything the wrong way.
“I like that you’re a brute,” Jake says, and Jay, understanding that he’s creeping into vulnerable territory again, stays silent this time even if his mouth twitches with the urge to reply. “Maybe it’s fucked up to say, but I like that you treat me so roughly ‘cause it proves you trust that I’m yours. And I like that no one else can make you act like this. I don’t want anyone else to make you act like this.”
Jay runs a thumb along his cheek and it prickles slightly, but it’s nothing in the face of Jay dipping down and angling his head to kiss him. His eyes slide shut softly, and he lets him in, opening up for him. Jay kisses his cupid’s bow before he pulls away.
“What I was trying to say earlier was that I’ve been missing you since we changed dorms. I know we still spend a lot of time together, but we’re on separate floors now and I got used to you in my space, so it’s just…” Jake shakes his head, “It’s strange. I have a lot of experience in missing people, but I’ve never missed someone who was right in front of me.”
It still sounds ridiculous to him. Feeling the loss of Jay when he’s literally right there.
“I know what you mean,” Jay says, “I was just messing with you earlier. You’re a terrible roommate, but I enjoyed having a part of you to myself.”
“Are you kidding, I was a fucking angel,” Jake narrows his eyes, “Who did your laundry for you? Who made your bed for you?”
“Of course that’s the part you focus on,” Jay snorts.
“Because it’s a lie and you know it.”
“No you definitely sucked in some ways,” Jay says, “I just loved you enough to let it go.”
Jake is a silent for a few beats. “Well don’t expect that from me. I’m not gonna let things go just ‘cause we’re dating.”
“Trust me,” Jay raises an eyebrow at him wryly, “I’m very aware of that, Jake.”
Jake looks away first with a small scoff, unable to find a suitable response. Jay smiles to himself, his hand resting on the back of his thigh, thumb rubbing against the skin. Jake grimaces, shifting on his stomach. “I can feel your cum leaking out of me.”
“Romantic.”
“I think letting you come inside of me is very romantic actually.”
Jay hums. He pats Jake’s leg. “How many men have come inside of you then? If it’s so romantic, I’d assume it’s only me.”
Fair enough. Point to Park Jongseong.
Jay sobers up then, resting a tentative hand on his back. “I need to ask. Did you like the face slapping? Was it too hard?”
“Yeah,” Jake licks his lips, his voice gone airy in remembrance, “Yeah, I really did. It was perfect. You could be harder, honestly.”
“I think I pushed it as far as I could. You might bruise if I do anymore.”
“If only we weren’t idols,” Jake pouts, snuggling into his pillow. His cheek gives a weak throb.
Jay snorts, glancing away and shaking his head. “So you can have rough sex?”
“Really good rough sex, yeah.”
“With bruises on your face? I’ll get the police called on me for domestic violence.”
Jake sets a hand on his knee, looking at him earnestly. “I’d defend you.”
“I don’t want DV allegations to begin with,” Jay explains patiently.
“Fine, then I’d learn how to cover it up. Concealer and shit.”
Jay just makes a face and shakes his head again. “Your eyes are drooping,” he points out, “If you want to sleep for fifteen minutes or so, I’ll wake you up.”
“Maybe,” Jake murmurs. His eyelids are indeed starting to close by themselves.
“You just needed to be taken out of your head,” Jay says affectionately, his clean fingers lingering over the side of Jake’s face that isn’t sunk into the pillow. He traces along his jaw, “Not so bitchy and on edge anymore, are you?”
“So this was your grand plan?” Jake asks with his eye squinted open. He really is tired.
“It worked,” Jay shrugs, “You just need a firm hand to strip you of that bratty attitude.”
And Jay may be onto something because whatever protest Jake would have normally put up in response is too tiring, the emotion needed for it far from his mental reach.
“Sleep,” Jay coaxes, petting through his hair. “I’ll help you shower once you wake up.”
Like you have any other choice, is Jake’s last thought before his mind fades to static and blissful silence encompasses him.
He left the door cracked open a tiny sliver when he entered. Now, Jake watches as it slowly swings all the way open with a comical creak, Jay framed in the backlit doorway with his giant tote bag over his shoulder. He hears a quiet release of air and sees Jay’s small head shake, before he steps into the room.
“Why are you sitting on my bed in the dark?”
Actually, Jake is laying down but he doesn’t dare say that out loud because the fastest way to get Jay bitching is to harp on semantics and he’s trying to keep a tranquil mood. He sits up with a smile, then ducks his head and winces when Jay flicks the lights on. At least they’re not too bright and his eyes adjust within seconds.
“You scared the shit out of me,” Jay says, “I knew I closed the door before we left.”
“So, what? You thought a ghost was in your room?” Jake grins at him, “You’re one big scaredy cat, Park Jongseong.”
Jay rolls his eyes, dumping his bag on the ground. He removes his denim jacket and tosses it on his lounge chair, then stands still in the center of the room, head tilted back with a sigh. Jake understands. Jay just arrived back home after two flights and a full schedule for the day and it’s eleven at night. They have the pre-recording for Fatal Trouble tomorrow morning at four-thirty.
“Did you sleep on the plane?” Jake asks.
“Passed out.” Jay laughs under his breath, rolling his neck and putting a hand to his chin to help crack it. “Thank god. I slept every chance I got.” He starts stripping, clothes falling to a pile on the floor. Jake tucks his pillow to his chest and watches as he changes into a pair of sleep clothes.
“You should wash your face at least.”
Jay looks up at him in sudden remembrance and trudges out of the room. He returns a few minutes later, a Mang spa headband shoving his hair out of his face, and closes the door behind him after glancing at Jake.
Jake moves over to the inside edge of his bed, watching Jay flit around his room as he pries the headband off, unpacks a few things, and sets his phone in charging. He snorts at Jake’s phone already sat neatly on his desk, charging with one of his wires, an entirely presumptive gesture. He grabs his sleeping mask from his dresser and then climbs into bed, fluffing up his pillow.
“Did you really bring your own?” Jay asks, looking at the pillow Jake sets back in place.
“Yeah, your pillows suck, dude.”
“Hold on. Why are you in my bed again?”
It is a fair question because Jay is usually the one who ends up in his room. Jay’s can get fairly cluttered with his guitars and equipment plus that ridiculous lounge chair of his, so Jake has him come up to his floor instead.
“Last month—Or was it two months ago? I don’t remember exactly, but Riki told me that you sleep with the door open.”
Jay turns to him with raised eyebrows as if to say, And this is relevant how?
“Like the way you used to when we roomed together and I wasn’t home for the night.”
“Ah,” Jay nods, looking away at this. He adjusts his head on the pillow a few times, settling in fully. He doesn’t seem embarrassed exactly, just contemplative. Jake rolls onto his side, tucking his hand under his head.
“Yeah, I guess do that,” Jay says after a while. Jake had sort of thought the ‘Ah’ was the end of it when he hadn’t responded after a minute, marking it down to exhaustion. “But what does that have to do with you being here?”
“Well, you were missing me, weren’t you. That’s why you keep the door open. You were waiting for me,” Jake says simply, stretching his hand out to rest it on top of Jay’s on his chest, “I’m here now.”
Jay tilts his head to the side to look at him. His eyes are bleary but the affection in them is clear as day. “You’re so self-obsessed,” Jay says with inappropriate fondness, “Who said any of that?”
“Nah, I know,” Jake smiles smugly, leaning in, “You can’t fool me.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jay meets his smile with one of his own, amused to his confident.
“Yeah,” Jake says firmly, “You and me, Jay-yah, we’re more different than we are similar but we have something in common.”
Jay motions for him to continue, smile quieting into a small tug at the left side of his mouth. “What’s that?”
“I could spend every second of my day with you and I’d still fall asleep upset I didn’t get more time with you.”
He hears the air catch in Jay’s chest, sees his throat work when he swallows.
“Missing you isn’t nice at all. Nothing like the way I miss Sunghoon or Jungwon or anyone else. It feels violent. You feel that too, right?”
Jay nods stiltedly with his attentive eyes and pursed mouth. His still expression and bated breath.
“It’s like you gouged a hole in me. And you’re the only one who can fill it,” Jake shudders after the words escape him, burying his flushing face against his boyfriend’s shoulder, “Fuck, that’s so corny. Someone shoot me.”
“But you mean it?” Jay asks.
Jake lifts his head with an incredulous look, “Yes, I mean it. You think I’m saying that cringey shit as a joke? I seriously love you, Park Jongseong, because that almost took me out.”
“I seriously love you, too.”
“You seriously better,” Jake is only kind of joking.
“I really do,” Jay says with full sincerity, which, God, Jake can’t handle that this late at night, “I have for a long time.”
Jake stares at him, wondering how this is his life. His luck is insane. He’s got the dream job and the dream man. Jay smiles into the kiss Jake presses to his mouth, allowing it for once when Jake collapses mostly on top of him. He wraps himself around Jay and starts tucking himself into his nooks and crannies.
“Hold on,” Jay says, craning for the side of his headboard where a remote is mounted. He turns the lights off and sets the remote back in its holder, before giving Jake the go ahead to completely immobilize him.
“I can’t breathe,” Jay says at one point.
“What do you need to breathe for?” Jake asks, “Am I not enough?”
“You’re insufferable.”
“You seem to be suffering me just fine,” Jake nuzzles into his shoulder pointedly.
“And I deserve a Nobel Peace Prize for that.”
“Excuse me?”
“Saved some other poor guy from having to deal with you, the people should be thanking me,” Jay murmurs with a smile audible in his voice.
“Do you want to break up?”
“Did I say that?”
“Like calling me a chore is any better.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Jay-yah,” Jake lifts his head to peer down at him with narrowed eyes, the faintest outline of him visible in the dark, “Let’s not fight tonight. I’m tired, you’re tired, we have a schedule tomorrow.”
He lifts his hand to Jay’s face, moving over his mouth to trace the shape of it. His lips are dry, cracked, curved in a small smirk.
“So don’t fight,” Jay speaks against his fingertips, hot breath dampening his skin. Jake exhales loudly, shifting his hand down to Jay’s vulnerable throat. He wraps his hand around it, squeezing just once in warning.
“You seem angry,” Jay says.
“No way,” Jake says, “What made you think that?”
“Just a feeling I had. I’m pretty good at reading your body language.”
“Oh yeah? What’s this saying then?” Jake brings his second hand up to properly frame his throat, exerting enough pressure Jay coughs when he lets up.
“That you’ve got a thing for erotic asphyxiation. And that you would be the kind of wife who would kill her husband for life insurance if he pissed her off.”
Jake blinks a few times in surprise, his hands slipping away from Jay’s neck. He lays back down, “That was oddly specific.”
“I’ve thought about it before,” Jay admits, turning on to his side to face Jake, not that it matters much with how little they can see, “Your crime would be mariticide and it’d be ‘cause I pissed you off one day, probably by breathing too loud and you just snapped.”
“Wow,” Jake says blankly, “Truly heartwarming stuff. Romance of the ages. Who doesn’t like their significant other daydreaming about how you’ll kill them?”
“To be fair,” Jay starts and Jake groans, rolling away for a second in preemptive despair over what he’ll say, “I feel like you’ve definitely made attempts on my life before even if it’s unconsciously. It’s like I trigger some level of murderous intent in you.”
Jake stares at the ceiling. “…God save me,” he whispers. He shakes his head hard, “Okay first of all, why would you date me if you think you trigger murderous intent in me?”
“I like to live dangerously.” He can practically hear the shrug in Jay’s voice.
Jake makes a pained sound, covering his face with his hands. He rubs his face roughly and presses his palms hard to his skin. “Jay,” he says, “I seriously can not stand you.”
“I know,” Jay says.
“You’re not funny,” Jake says, “Your humor is broken.”
“Yeah, baby, I hear you.”
Oh what the fuck. Jake curses him in his mind. What an absolute asshole, sliding in the pet name knowing damn well how it gets to Jake.
“Don’t call me baby.”
“Sorry. Did I lose ‘baby’ privileges?”
“Yes, actually.”
Jay laughs to himself, “You’re so…”
Jake whips his head to the side, staring him down and even in the dark, Jay falters. He better pick his words wisely.
“So sensitive,” he finishes.
Jake considers this. It sounds offensive but Jay had said it with a fond undercurrent so Jake decides to reserve judgment. “Sensitive?”
“It’s too easy to insult you,” Jay explains, “And you’re always looking to pick fights.”
“Oh, yeah. Talk dirty to me,” Jake says dryly, “I love your sweet words.”
“Well, and, if I do this,” Jay says, rich with amusement and a sudden burst of heat, reaching over to slip his hand into Jake’s clothes so he can squeeze his hip, thumb pressing into the crease of his thigh and skimming over his groin, ripping a gasp from Jake, “you get hard just like that. So, yeah. Sensitive.”
“Shit,” Jake wheezes, shoving his hand away, “What’s wrong with you. I’m trying to sleep.”
“You can sleep,” Jay pets his stomach, “I’ll take care of it. I’ll only use my fingers, it won’t take long.”
“Jay, I don’t know.” He glances at the clock on his desk. They need to wake up way too early to be fooling around right now.
“Hey, orgasms help you sleep better. It’s scientifically proven.”
“You don’t know that,” Jake accuses.
“Yeah, I don’t. But it probably is.” Jay rises from the bed to grab a pack of wet wipes and a bottle of lube, moving around with surprising deftness despite the lack of light.
“I didn’t say yes,” Jake complains. He’s ignored.
His pants and boxers are stripped off and Jay rolls his shirt up until his nipples are exposed, baring his entire chest. He’s half-hard, laying flat against his abdomen and pink at the tip. He jumps and whines when Jay touches his rim with cold, lube-drenched fingers, turning his head into his pillow and squeezing his eyes shut.
The first finger goes in easy. Too easy. Jay pauses once he realizes this, and Jake can’t see his expression but he can imagine the furrow between his eyebrows and the odd light in his eyes. But he says nothing, surprisingly, continuing to thrust that finger in and out at a steady rhythm. He grazes his prostate a few times but doesn’t actively seek it out, which is a strange tactic if he’s supposedly trying to make Jake come.
Two fingers are met with a sigh. Three fingers pull a groan from Jake and he presses his palm down on his abdomen. The fourth finger prodding at his stuffed hole has his eyes flying open to a darkness he can’t make sense of, his vision unadjusted, “What are you…”
He makes a noise, small and overwhelmed, when the fourth finger slides into him. It doesn’t stay long, the fingers slipping free to be replaced with something rounder, thicker, blunter. “Wait, what? Wait but you—Fuck,” he hisses as Jay splits him open on his cock.
“You said only your fingers,” he whines, reaching out to fist the front of Jay’s shirt.
“Before I knew how much of a slut you are,” Jay says darkly, his nails digging into Jake’s hips, “You couldn’t wait one day for me?”
He fucks Jake hard, rocking him up the bed. He has to brace his hand against the headboard to keep from colliding with it. His legs are spread wide, not allowed to wrap around Jay, and his thighs are starting to shake. Jay refuses to touch his cock even though it’s weeping at the slit and a dark, miserable red. Jake doesn’t even dare to take it into his own hands and can only mumble, “Please, touch me. Please, please, please, it hurts.”
“Stop fucking begging,” Jay says coldly, reaching up and slapping his face, quick but heavy-handed, a dull sting spreading. Jake moans, his eyes rolling back and cock twitching.
Jay’s breathing and pace pick up, signaling that he’s close to coming, and a genuine fear that Jay is going to deny him an orgasm blooms in Jake. He can only lay there, whimpering at every brutal thrust and praying that Jay takes pity on him.
When Jay comes, he pulls out and spills into his fist, which is the smart thing to do even if Jake internally mourns the loss. Chest heaving, he cleans his hand off with a wipe. Jake waits and watches the outline of him anxiously. He wouldn’t actually leave Jake like this.
Would he?
No, no, he wouldn’t. Jay slides further down the bed so he can lean down and press his lips to the inside of Jake’s thigh. Open-mouthed and lazy, he is gentle with him. It isn’t enough to get Jake’s arousal anywhere but he relaxes and enjoys the attention.
He should’ve expected it then really when Jay opens his mouth wide and bites into the delicate skin. He screams, only Jay’s forethought to reach up and cover his mouth keeping the whole building from hearing it.
Adrenaline surges through him, eyes widened in pain and shock. He pants behind Jay’s hand, his stomach trembling when he cranes up from the bed to see the devil between his legs. Only Jay’s dark eyes are visible, that too barely, gleaming ever so slightly with the faint light leaking into the room from the curtained windows and the various glows of technology. Above the desk, the ceiling lights up with the twin glares of text notifications on their phones.
Jay’s teeth are still sunk into the vulnerable stretch of his inner thigh, pain flaring from the bite site. He hasn’t broken skin, at least that’s what Jake thinks, but it hurts so intensely and acutely, sweat breaks out across his forehead and his cock spurts out thin streams over his abdomen.
Slowly, Jay removes his teeth. Jake has to stuff the side of his fist into his mouth to keep himself quiet, trying to be mindful of their members who are just trying to sleep. Lightly, light enough to caress a butterfly's wing, Jay pecks the violent impressions of his teeth. He hums against his skin, trailing these feathery kisses up and over his groin, and then down into the crease of his other leg, teeth scraping across the tense muscles. Jake holds his breath and anticipates it this time when a hot tongue scalds the inside of his unmarked thigh, slapping both hands over his mouth tightly to trap his pained cry in his throat when Jay bites down.
The muscles in his legs twitch, though Jay takes care to hold him still, and Jake is out of breath by the time the second bite is exposed to the air. Four fingers slide back into his ass. Jake jerks, overstimulated by everything that’s happened, and a weak sob bubbles out of him when this time Jay presses the pads of his fingers hard to his spot.
It feels like he’s losing his mind. Jake is putty in the bed, crying quietly as Jay fucks his fingers up into his prostate, abusing it, and fits his teeth back into the bite marks, worrying at them to renew the pain. His cock must be purple at this point.
He’s trembling by the time he comes, cum dribbling out of his slit in thick globs and fat tears dripping down his cheeks, the pleasure doing nothing to mask how sore he is inside and how his thighs ache.
Jay strokes his hips down to the outside of his legs, shushing his hiccups and gasping breaths. “There you go,” he croons when Jake wipes at his tears with a big shuddering sigh as his breathing evens out, “There we go. You’re okay, baby. You did good. My wife is so good for me.”
Jake nods tearily, the praise like a balm on his bruised body.
“Stay right here, okay?” Jay checks with him and Jake whispers faintly in reply, “‘Kay.”
Jay leaves the room and Jake closes his eyes, all his attention turned to the pulsing pain in his thighs and the sated soreness of an orgasm milked out of him. The bites are a brand, Jake realizes. Jay had bitten him to mark him.
The knowledge tastes sweet. Jake trails his hands down his body, carefully brushing a finger over the crescent teeth marks. They’ll last and bruise and they’re going to fucking suck in the morning, all of this is, but Jake can’t find an ounce of regret.
“Are you asleep?”
“Not yet,” Jake murmurs, forcing his eyes open. He startles at the warm, wet cloth Jay wipes over his thighs. He cleans the bites carefully then trades the cloth for another one, also warm and dampened. Jake catches a faint scent and realizes the first cloth must have had some soap or cleaning agent on it.
Jay is less careful when he mops up the mess on Jake’s stomach, though he is thorough. After, he drops a kiss right below his belly button in something like an apology.
He helps Jake wear his boxers, pulling it up for him when Jake’s fingers are too weak to do the job. They don’t even bother with the pajama pants. Reaching for the tissue box sitting on the flat shelf of his headboard, he passes Jake a few so he can scrub at the tear tracks and blow his nose.
“Nothing says romance quite like biting and hitting your partner,” Jake breaks the silence.
“Sure, put it like that. Make me sound like a monster.”
“Kidding,” Jake mumbles, shaking his head, rubbing his cheek with the back of his hand while Jay throws the trash away, “Personally, I think it’s very romantic when you hit me.”
“You’re never letting that go, are you,” Jay sighs, making himself comfortable in bed.
“Of course not. This is the perfect thing to hold over your head.”
“You know, normal people don’t hold things over their partner’s head. Especially when those things are something they ask for. It’s not healthy.”
“Boring.”
He hears a faint laugh of defeat. Jay fiddles with his sleep mask, adjusting it a few times over his eyes before he’s satisfied.
Jake tucks his hands under his head. “Hey.”
“Yeah?”
“I really love you.”
“I know,” Jay says, “I really love you, too.”
“And, Jay-yah?”
“Yep?”
“Today, when you came back to me at the end of the day, it was the best feeling in the world.”
Jay’s voice is warm when he speaks, “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“Then, Jay-yah… Can I sleep in your bed every night?”
He can hear Jay’s smile. A hand reaches out blindly to pat his hip. “You don’t even have to ask, baby.”