Chapter Text
In this world, some people are born with "non-standard" bodies, rare congenital differences tucked away behind cold medical terms and shameful silences. Jaehyun was born male, with a vagina and partial internal structures. His doctors called it intersex, his parents called it a mistake of fate. And the industry never called it anything at all.
He used to think he could stay away from the spotlight, he wanted to. Back when he was just a trainee, one of dozens crammed into fluorescent-lit practice rooms, sharing sweat and silence and the same aching dream, he kept his head down and prayed his body wouldn’t betray him. But it always did.
Changing clothes was a nightmare, showering with others was impossible. He learned to tape things down, to fake indifference, to avoid eye contact when someone’s towel slipped too low. His body made him different, less than, and no matter how much the trainers praised his voice, his face, his dedication, he couldn’t stop hearing it, 'you’ll never be enough like this'.
He wasn’t even supposed to debut under a male idol company, that was never the plan. But investors had other ideas. "It’s just business," they told him. "The concept’s flexible. You’re beautiful enough to pass for either, that’s your strength, Jaehyun." He remembered sitting in that cold office, blinking back the urge to scream. They promised him it wouldn’t be difficult, promised his members would support him, promised they’d attach a realistic prosthetic whenever he performed, no one would ever know. But they didn’t ask if he was ready.
And he wasn’t, not emotionally, not mentally, not physically. He didn’t feel strong, he didn’t feel beautiful. He didn’t feel male enough, or female enough, or anything enough – just trapped in a body that never felt like his own. A body that strangers would sexualize if they knew, that fans would fetishize, that tabloids would destroy him for.
He hated it, hated the softness between his legs, hated how wet he got sometimes when he danced too hard, hated the way he couldn’t even jerk off like the other guys did, hated how every part of him felt like a compromise. No one had ever told him it could be anything but a burden.
And yet, somewhere out there – across the dorm, across the practice room, across the blurry line between teammates and something more – was Han Taesan. The only person who looked at him like none of it was ugly, like he wasn’t ugly. But Jaehyun wasn’t ready to believe that yet, not when he still couldn’t look at himself without flinching.
Something was wrong with Jaehyun again. It wasn’t anything obvious, he still smiled on cue, still hit every move in practice, still bowed politely when staff passed by. But Taesan had been watching him long enough to see the cracks now. The stiffness in his shoulders, the way he flinched when someone bumped into him by accident, the way he always took his bag into the bathroom instead of just going to change like the rest of them.
Jaehyun had a way of making himself look perfect even when he was breaking. But Taesan saw it, he always did. It reminded him of that day, the first time they were all introduced, the memory came back uninvited, but sharp as ever.
~ Flashback ~
They had just started forming the final lineup. Taesan had been in the company for nearly five years already – longer than most, and he was used to new faces coming and going, trainees added and dropped like pieces on a game board. But when Jaehyun walked in that day, escorted by one of the higher-ups, the room shifted.
He was..striking. Pretty in a way that wasn’t soft. Pale skin, sharp jaw, big eyes that didn’t look like they trusted a single person in the room. His presence was calm, almost cold. It didn’t help that the exec introduced him like some kind of investment - "This is Myung Jaehyun, treat him well, he’s going to be valuable."
Everyone nodded, Taesan didn’t say anything, he just watched as Jaehyun bowed quietly, then took the farthest seat from the others. They practiced together for the first time the next day.
Jaehyun danced like he was fighting something. Controlled, elegant, aggressive, like his own body wasn’t something he trusted but something he was trying to dominate. They were barely ten minutes in when one of the staff pulled him aside and whispered something into his ear.
Jaehyun didn’t argue, just nodded, and left the room, bag clutched tight in his hand, and didn’t come back for fifteen minutes.
It was weird, honestly. They’d all noticed it, the way he kept disappearing before every camera test, every major practice. And then came the day when it all clicked.
After their first full performance run-through, one of the stylists called out casually from the side, "Jaehyun, go try it on, we need to see if the attachment fits properly with your pants."
They all paused, someone even laughed, confused. 'Attachment?' Jaehyun froze like he’d been hit, his eyes dropped, fingers clenched.
He left the room, and no one said anything out loud, not yet. But Taesan remembered the weird silence, the unspoken questions hanging in the air.
It wasn’t until a few nights later, after another long practice, that Jaehyun finally snapped.
They were alone in the locker room – just a few of them – when one of the guys (maybe joking, maybe not) said something about how Jaehyun never showed his bare self. Jaehyun didn’t laugh, he didn’t brush it off. He just went still, eyes shadowed under the fluorescent lights.
And then Jaehyun said it. "I don’t have a dick. I was born with a vagina." Silence filled the room.
Taesan remembered the heat in Jaehyun’s face, not embarrassment, not fear. But anger, shame, something deeper, something that screamed ‘this isn’t for you to comment on,’ but also 'I’m so fucking tired of hiding it.'
No one knew what to say. All the four boys muttered a quiet 'sorry', and just walked out. But Taesan had stayed. Not because he knew what to say, but because Jaehyun looked like he was about to fall apart if someone didn’t stay. And maybe that was the moment everything shifted for him.
Taesan didn’t know what it meant, to be born like that. He didn’t understand all the medical stuff, the identity stuff. But what he did understand was how Jaehyun looked like he hated himself for something he never asked for. How he carried it like a curse. How hard he tried to make it disappear, even though it was a part of him.
That night, Taesan couldn’t sleep. Because all he could think was, "Why would someone so beautiful feel so broken?"
After Jaehyun revealed the truth – raw, blunt, ashamed – something shifted within the group. But it wasn’t what Jaehyun feared.
No one turned away. No one made jokes. There were no whispers in the dorms. Just a strange, tentative quiet, like the air had thickened around them and no one knew what to do with it. But even in that silence, Jaehyun adapted, slowly and bravely.
He didn’t take long to build connections – not with the others, anyway. Leehan and Woonhak were drawn to him instantly, like younger brothers who found something familiar and comforting in the way he smiled. Sungho and Riwoo were more reserved, but even they respected him early on – not because of what he said, but how he carried himself. Soft-spoken but firm. Kind, but never submissive. A quiet flame that made people lean in.
But with Taesan... it was always different, not strained, not really, just complicated. Because Jaehyun’s love language was skinship – casual touches, arms slung around shoulders, soft hugs between breaks. And Taesan hated it, or at least, he said he did. Everyone knew it, "Taesan doesn’t like hugs," they’d all laugh, "he’s allergic to affection".
Jaehyun tried to play along, brushing it off on camera with gentle smiles and playful deflections, always quick to tell fans, "Taesan’s just shy, don’t worry about him," or "Taesan is very different at the dorm," whenever his touches were rejected.
But off-camera, it broke something in him. Taesan could see it, the way Jaehyun’s hands would drop too quickly, the way he’d cover it up with laughter that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The way, sometimes, he’d go still for a second too long, like his own body had betrayed him by reaching out again. Taesan noticed it all, and he hated himself for it.
The first month after Jaehyun joined them, everything about him seemed too careful. He mimicked their mannerisms - leaned into topics like gaming and girls and gym talk with a rehearsed casualness that always felt a bit too polished. Like he’d studied what being a guy meant and was trying desperately to fit the image.
It wasn’t until weeks passed – after they’d seen him cry during dance practice, laugh too loudly at Woonhak’s jokes, fall asleep mid-conversation with rice still stuck to his cheek – that the real Jaehyun started to come out. He stopped imitating them and started just...existing with them. No one thought he was odd, not once, not ever, and just like that Jaehyun became theirs.
Even before they knew it themselves, Jaehyun was the one they looked to for answers, the one they leaned on when nerves hit before evaluations. His empathy, his presence, it glued them together. He was the thread that bound them tighter.
So when the company had announced him as leader, no one questioned it, except Jaehyun himself, because behind the confident smile and sparkling eyes, Jaehyun was terrified. Taesan remembered those nights vividly, the ones before their debut, when he’d hear muffled sobs from the next room, soft and stuttering through the paper-thin walls of their dorm. He never knocked, never asked, but he heard it all, and it burned something in his chest.
He wanted to hold him, to tell him he wasn’t a burden, wasn’t broken. But his own awkwardness, his own inability to reach out, kept him still.
Then came the night they won their first award. Jaehyun cried on stage – loud, raw, no pretense. And later that night, when they returned to the dorms, he cried again, not for the cameras, not for the fans. But from somewhere deeper, from years of self-doubt and silent suffering that no applause could ever erase.
That night, Taesan made a promise to himself. He would learn how to show it, how to be there, how to love Jaehyun properly, even if Jaehyun never knew.
But Jaehyun had always been careful with him. It was only with Taesan that he hesitated. With others, he was bright and touchy, full of affection. But with Taesan, every hug was calculated. Every flirtatious tease was wrapped in caution. As if Jaehyun knew - 'Taesan could break me, and I don’t think I’d survive it'.
And maybe he was right, because when it hit Taesan, it hit hard. It wasn’t Jaehyun’s condition, it wasn’t the fact that he was the only member born with a vagina. It was Jaehyun himself, the fullness of him, his universe-filled eyes, his 'too big for his face' sweaters, the way his laugh cracked when he tried not to laugh too loudly, the way his lips curled in concentration when he practiced alone. Taesan fell slowly, quietly, but irreversibly.
And then 'it' happened. They’d finished a long live performance. Everyone else had left for the dorms, just Jaehyun and Taesan were still packing up, it wasn’t unusual, Jaehyun always took longer, changing in the restroom, being discreet.
Taesan waited outside, half-distracted, until Jaehyun came out – tired, dazed, hair still damp, eyes barely open, lips cracked and dry. Taesan's gaze drifted downward without thinking, and stopped. There was a visible slit between Jaehyun’s pants – his walls were visible.
At first, his tired mind didn’t register it. But then Jaehyun stepped closer to leave, and it hit him, hard and sudden. His breath caught, he looked away fast, face heating up, heart thudding loud enough to drown the silence.
Jaehyun didn’t notice, but Taesan couldn’t unsee it. "Hyung," he said softly, forcing the words past his burning throat. "It’s...visible, your pants."
It wasn’t shame that stopped him from saying the word. It wasn’t disgust, it was flustered awe. He had seen something intimate, raw, private. Something he wasn’t meant to, and it left him shaken.
Jaehyun blinked, finally looking down. And then, panic, full-body panic. The kind that hijacks breath and floods the chest with dread. He looked around wildly, desperate to find something, anything. But the staff had taken everything. There was nothing left to cover himself.
"Fuck," Jaehyun whispered, more to himself than anyone else, his voice was trembling, his face had drained of color. And Taesan could see it, the anxiety unraveling him like a live wire.
Without thinking, Taesan removed his jacket and stepped forward. His hand touched Jaehyun’s shoulder lightly, and Jaehyun flinched like he’d been shocked. Taesan’s voice dropped to a whisper. "Hyung, you can have it."
Their hands brushed slightly, Jaehyun’s fingers were cold, he didn’t look at him, just took the jacket silently and wrapped it around his waist. And Taesan turned away, giving him the privacy he needed.
They didn’t speak on the ride to their dorm. Jaehyun slept, or pretended to, and Taesan just sat there, still flustered, still confused - but one thing was certain. He liked Jaehyun. A lot. And now, there was no going back.
The next few days were awkward. Tense. They avoided each other in the dorms, on set, even during practice. It was killing Taesan – the distance, the shift, the weight of it all.
So he went to Jaehyun’s room one night. Jaehyun froze when he entered – eyes wide, posture stiff. And before Taesan could say anything, Jaehyun muttered, “Sorry.” Taesan hated that word, hated the way Jaehyun looked so small, so ashamed.
"It wasn’t your fault," he said gently. "There’s nothing wrong with you, hyung. You’ve seen everything about us. That wasn’t inhumane, that was, that was normal." He hesitated, "I miss teasing you, I miss the way we were. It doesn’t matter to me what you are. I hope you know that."
Jaehyun’s tears fell silently. And Taesan didn’t touch him – not yet. He just stood there, watching him cry, heart breaking all over again.
From that night, something changed, Taesan began initiating every small touch. Hand on shoulder, arm around waist, a nudge during shoots, or the hugs after hours of practice. And Jaehyun, though shy, though always careful, never pushed him away. They grew closer, closer than the rest.
They went shopping together. Watched late-night matches, snuck out for quiet dinners. Taesan became Jaehyun’s calm – the sun that cut through the stormclouds of his doubt.
And Jaehyun began to smile differently around him. Taesan noticed everything. The way Jaehyun lit up when he entered the room. The way he lingered a little longer after conversations. The way his eyes softened when Taesan reached for his hand first.
Taesan protected him in little ways. If Jaehyun stumbled, Taesan blamed the floor. If he forgot lyrics, he called the verse complicated. If Jaehyun said he looked fat, Taesan ordered him extra food.
It was no longer just affection, it was 'devotion'. Jaehyun didn’t have a name for what he felt. But Taesan knew. Because somewhere along the way, his quiet admiration had grown into something far more dangerous, and far more beautiful – ‘love’.
It was one of those days, one where the weight of their schedule pressed down like a shadow. They had just flown back from Japan that morning, slept for a few scattered hours, and were dragged into practice by evening. Everyone was exhausted, yet no one dared complain. The music thumped, the mirrors reflected tired faces, and sweat clung to their skin like another layer of clothing.
It was all routine, until it wasn’t. Jaehyun had been shifting positions during choreography when his foot slid wrong on the polished floor. His ankle twisted beneath him, and in a second he was down, clutching his leg with both hands.
"Are you okay?" the choreographer’s voice cut through the music, sharp with concern. The members rushed to him, voices overlapping, worried and panicked, but Jaehyun forced out a shaky laugh. "It’s nothing, I just tripped." He tried to sit up, brushing it off like he always did, smiling through pain.
Everyone seemed half-convinced, everyone except Taesan. He had been at the back, but the moment he noticed Jaehyun on the floor, his heart dropped. He was there in seconds, kneeling beside him, his hands instinctively covered Jaehyun’s, a silent plea for him to show the truth. Jaehyun’s smile wavered under that gaze but he still shook his head, stubborn as ever.
Taesan tested it himself, shifting Jaehyun’s ankle gently, and the sharp hiss of pain that escaped Jaehyun’s lips betrayed everything. "Sure you’re fine," he muttered, more frustrated at the lie than at Jaehyun himself.
The choreographer didn’t argue further. Jaehyun was ordered to rest immediately. A staff member arrived, applying cold spray and wrapping the ankle, reminding him to stay off his feet for at least two days. Reluctantly, Jaehyun sat on a chair at the side of the room, watching the others continue practice.
And yet, though they danced apart, Jaehyun and Taesan’s eyes kept finding each other in the mirror, like two people separated by glass. Every flicker of pain on Jaehyun’s face struck something deep in Taesan, and every look Taesan gave him in return carried unspoken words 'you’re not alone'.
When practice finally ended, Taesan didn’t give anyone else the chance. He was at Jaehyun’s side, supporting him out to the car, then through the dorm’s hallway. His hand rested steady on Jaehyun’s shoulder, guiding him, refusing to let him falter.
But once the elevator opened and they reached the quiet hallway to their rooms, Taesan suddenly bent down. Before Jaehyun could react, strong arms slipped beneath his knees and back, and he was lifted – bridal style. Jaehyun gasped, loud and shocked, his arms instinctively clutching Taesan’s shirt, "T-Taesan!"
His face flamed red instantly, heat crawling up his neck, he wanted to protest, to say something, anything, but the words stuck in his throat. Taesan’s expression gave him no room – it was calm, focused, though his own ears were pink. He carried him steadily, the air between them thick, trembling with something neither dared name.
At Jaehyun’s door, Taesan set him down on the bed with a gentleness that made Jaehyun’s heart skip. Clearing his throat once, twice, he muttered, "Take care," trying to sound casual, but the roughness in his voice betrayed him, and he turned to leave.
But Jaehyun moved, tried to push himself up. Taesan whipped around instantly, "What are you doing?" His voice came out sharper than he meant, rough with worry. "I just-" Jaehyun stammered, caught, "I need to go!"
"Where?" Taesan’s eyes narrowed. "...To the toilet," Jaehyun admitted, sheepishly. Realization hit Taesan, and his irritation dissolved into reluctant amusement. He sighed, then walked back, and instead of scolding further, he slipped an arm around Jaehyun’s waist, pulling him close, his other hand steadying the one clinging to his shoulder.
The proximity was unbearable, every step was slow, careful, but Jaehyun could barely hear anything over the pounding in his chest. His breath came shallow, nerves buzzing with every brush of Taesan’s warmth.
As if sensing it, Taesan’s voice dropped low, softer than usual. "Relax. I’m not- I’m not staying," his throat worked as he swallowed, gaze fixed firmly forward. Jaehyun’s grip tightened anyway, his heart trembling with something he didn’t want to name.
Taesan stopped at the door, helping him inside before letting go. "Call me if you need me," he said, though his voice was rough like he hated the words. Then he left, but not far, never far. He lingered in the room, waiting, ears tuned for any sound.
When he finally heard the flush, he hesitated, then knocked lightly. The door creaked open, and Jaehyun stood there, eyes lowered, his face still warm from embarrassment. Without a word, Taesan stepped forward, slipping his arm back around his waist, guiding him out carefully.
"You need to shower, right?" Taesan asked quietly, not meeting Jaehyun’s eyes. His hand rested firm at Jaehyun’s waist, the other steady over his hand on his shoulder. His grip trembled faintly, but he refused to let go.
Jaehyun swallowed hard. "...Yes." The word was almost a whisper, choked with nerves. His thoughts spiraled, 'did Taesan mean help him shower?' The idea alone made his heart thrash. He’d rather crawl into bed unwashed than risk the intimacy of being seen like that.
But Taesan only said, "I’ll walk you to it." His voice shook too, betraying the same nerves, but his resolve stayed. Step by step, he guided Jaehyun toward the bathroom.
Once there, Taesan hesitated, scanning the small space, before reaching to the corner. He pulled out the plastic stool and placed it inside the shower stall. "Sit on this so you don’t put weight on your leg," he murmured, avoiding Jaehyun’s eyes. The gesture was careful, almost too careful, as if he wanted to help but knew the line between concern and invasion was thin.
Jaehyun froze, his chest twisting painfully. Something as small as a stool and Taesan thinking of it, arranging it, making sure he wouldn’t hurt himself more, it was such an ordinary kindness, and yet it gutted him. He’d always been the one hiding, smiling through the pain, convincing himself that no one would ever look at him long enough to notice the cracks. But Taesan noticed, he always noticed.
Taesan lingered like a statue, supporting him silently until Jaehyun muttered, his lips wobbled into a faint, fake smile, the kind he wore like armor. "My leg is injured, but... I can shower myself. See?" He lifted his hands a little, showing they were fine.
But inside, he hated himself for the way his heart ached. For how much he wanted to lean on Taesan. For how terrifying it was to be seen as fragile and yet how warm it felt, just for a second, that someone cared enough to make space for that fragility.
Taesan reached out as if to take his elbow again, fingers hovering, not quite touching. The moment stretched, for one dizzy second, Jaehyun thought he might stay, might cross the invisible line between practicality and something far more intimate. His breath caught in his throat.
But Taesan’s hand closed on nothing. He pulled back sharply, carefully shifting Jaehyun’s weight to his good leg before letting go.
By the time he reached the door, his chest was heaving, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. His face burned, shame and longing mixing into something he didn’t dare name. He paused at the threshold, hand pressed to the doorframe, as though he wanted to say something more, then only muttered, "Be careful," before stepping out.
The click of the door echoed louder than it should have. Jaehyun stood frozen, staring at the empty space where Taesan had just been, the stool sitting in the shower like proof that someone had thought of him – him, specifically, not just the injury.
He turned slowly, catching sight of himself in the mirror above the sink. His reflection startled him. The flush on his cheeks, the damp shine in his eyes, the way his lips trembled as if holding back words he hadn’t dared to say. He looked nothing like the careful, composed version of himself he showed the world.
For a moment, he lifted his hand, tracing his own cheek in the glass, as though trying to smooth away the truth – that someone’s touch, someone’s care, had shaken him this badly.
But then the spiral began. 'It was just kindness,' he told himself. 'That’s all it was! He would do it for anyone'. The thought lodged sharp in his chest, but he pushed it anyway. 'If one of the others were hurt, Taesan would’ve offered the same stool, the same help. You’re not special. Don’t be stupid.'
Yet his throat tightened as another voice, quieter and treacherous, answered back – 'But he didn’t have to hold your waist like that. He didn’t have to look at you like he was afraid of crossing a line.'
Jaehyun clenched his jaw, shaking his head hard. "Stop it," he muttered. "You’re imagining things." His reflection stared back, unconvinced. 'You’ve been imagining for years,' he argued with himself. 'And it’s always gotten you hurt. Don’t do this again'.
But no matter how harshly he scolded, the memory lingered, the warmth of Taesan’s hand, the way his voice softened without meaning to. And Jaehyun hated himself for it, hated how his body leaned into a ghost, hated how desperately he wanted to believe it wasn’t just kindness.
"Pathetic," he whispered under his breath, but it came out cracked, softer than he meant, almost tender.
Because it wasn’t pathetic. It was terrifying, terrifying to want someone’s presence so badly, terrifying to feel that flicker of safety in Taesan’s almost-touch and know that if it ever truly landed, if Taesan ever reached for him without pulling back – he wouldn’t survive pretending anymore.
His knees buckled before he could stop them, and he sank onto the stool with a sharp exhale. Elbows braced against his thighs, his head dropped into his hands, hair falling forward to hide the tremor that ran through him. The first shaky breath tore out before the water even touched his skin.
For a while, he just sat there, letting the silence press down on him, letting his chest rise and fall too fast. Then, with a bitter laugh that sounded more like a sigh, he reached forward and twisted the knob.
The shower sputtered to life, warm water cascading over him in steady sheets, soaking his hair, trailing down his spine. The sound was loud, filling the small space until it drowned out the thoughts clawing at him. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting it hit his face, his lashes, his mouth.
The ache in his chest didn’t vanish, but it blurred. It softened into something he could hold without breaking completely. For now, that was enough.
As soon as Taesan hears the water shut off, he hovers outside the bathroom door, hands tightening at his sides. A few seconds pass before he knocks softly. "Hyung...can I come in?"
"No," Jaehyun blurts, too quickly, panic laced in the single syllable. Taesan frowns, his voice stays gentle, though his chest feels heavy. "I know you’re not naked. I’m coming in."
Before Jaehyun can protest, the door opens. Just as Taesan thought, Jaehyun is standing in a bathrobe, damp hair clinging messily to his temples, clutching the fabric as if it’s the only shield left to him. His hesitation is palpable, because Jaehyun doesn’t believe he’s beautiful.
But Taesan does. And now, standing there, he can’t help but lose himself in it – the way the droplets of water cling to Jaehyun’s flushed cheeks, the faint steam rising from his still-warm skin, the way his hair sticks to his forehead, darkened and soft. It’s unfair, Taesan thinks, how Jaehyun can stand there looking like something fragile and untouchable, while inside he carries the conviction that he’s anything but.
Every line of thought in Taesan’s head crosses into dangerous territory, far beyond friendship, far beyond anything he can reasonably disguise. He wants to touch, to tell Jaehyun he’s beautiful until he finally believes it, to erase every cruel thing the world has made him feel about himself. And the desire almost shows in his face.
So, he forces himself to blink, to swallow it down. His voice comes out too quickly, too rough around the edges. "You’ll need help to dress," he blurts, aiming for casual but missing by a mile. His throat feels tight, the crack in his tone betraying every hidden thought. "Where...where are your clothes?"
Jaehyun’s lashes lower at the odd strain in his voice, and for the briefest moment it feels like he knows – like he’s caught a glimpse of something Taesan didn’t mean to let slip. But then Jaehyun just clutches the robe tighter, saying nothing, and the moment passes like smoke.
Then he limps forward, and Taesan instinctively slips an arm around his waist to steady him. Together, they make their way to the wardrobe. Jaehyun carefully pulls out his underwear and nightclothes, hands trembling faintly.
Taesan’s throat tightens at the sight of the panties. He knows Jaehyun wears them in the dorm, but now, seeing them up close, chosen with such deliberate quiet, something shifts in his chest. It’s not disgust, it’s not even confusion. It’s something heavier, something warmer, something he forces himself not to name. He’s not a pervert, but he’s definitely not sane anymore.
Their eyes meet briefly, and Jaehyun flinches away. The silence stretches, unbearably fragile. Finally, Taesan swallows hard. "I’ll close my eyes until you tell me otherwise. I promise. But.. let me help you."
Jaehyun’s breath hitches, but he doesn’t say no. He only lets Taesan’s hand linger at his arms.
When Jaehyun begins to shrug the robe off, Taesan keeps his eyes shut tight, holding Jaehyun steady with both hands until he realizes he has to let go of one so Jaehyun can slip free. He releases slowly, fingers reluctant. The robe slides off one shoulder, then the other, brushing past Taesan’s hand before falling away. His palm grazes bare skin– soft, chilled, and a shiver rips through both of them. Jaehyun gasps, trying to smother the sound, and Taesan swears he can feel the tremor vibrating in his own bones.
Jaehyun moves quickly to pull on the panties, balancing only because Taesan’s grip anchors him. His heart is thundering – 'what if Taesan opens his eyes now? What if someone walks in?' But somehow, he manages, the fabric slipping easily up his thighs. He exhales shakily, relieved.
The hoodie is harder. Jaehyun pulls it over his head until it bunches at his neck, his arms stuck awkwardly. Taesan, eyes still squeezed shut, tilts his head. "Hyung... give me your hand."
Jaehyun, startled, does. Taesan guides his wrist gently through one sleeve, then repeats with the other, his touch steady and patient. Only once Jaehyun is fully covered does Taesan let his breath escape, though his eyes remain closed.
Finally, the pants. Jaehyun thinks they’ll be easier, but the fabric catches as he bends, his injured leg trembling too much to manage. His frustration rises, but before he can say anything, Taesan speaks softly. "I’ll help."
Jaehyun freezes, nerves spiking. He’s half-exposed, and surely Taesan will open his eyes now. But instead, Taesan lowers himself, lids still shut. "Grab my shoulders," he murmurs.
Jaehyun obeys, as if summoned by the gentleness in his voice. His hands rest on Taesan’s shoulders, trembling, and tears blur his vision because no one, no one has ever treated him with such care. Taesan carefully guides the pants up his legs, adjusting around the injured ankle with slow precision.
But the moment Taesan’s hand accidentally brushes the swollen joint, Jaehyun cries out in pain. Taesan’s eyes fly open instantly, panic flooding him. "Hyung! Did I hurt you? Are you okay? Tell me-"
"I’m fine," Jaehyun whispers, breathless, clutching at him. It takes a second before Taesan realizes what he’s done, he broke his promise, opened his eyes without permission. He freezes, guilt burning across his face. "I... I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-"
But when he looks up, Jaehyun is staring back at him, eyes wide and wet, holding an emotion so deep it makes Taesan’s chest ache. There’s no anger there, only the quiet surrender, only the unconditional trust.
Jaehyun exhales softly, gaze unwavering, as though forgiving him with nothing more than the way his eyes lock onto Taesan’s – raw, vulnerable, and devastatingly full of love.
"I know you," he whispered then, the words so faint they could’ve been mistaken for breath, but they struck harder than any confession. There was no condition, no hesitation, just truth.
For a moment, Taesan couldn’t breathe. His chest tightened, like Jaehyun had taken everything fragile in him and pressed it directly into his palms. Trust, pure and unfiltered trust – from someone who had every reason to keep it locked away. It wasn’t just an admission, it was Jaehyun opening the door to a place Taesan hadn’t even dared to knock on. His private self, his hidden wounds, the parts of him nobody else had been allowed to see, Jaehyun had let him in.
Jaehyun bent to pick up the discarded pants, sliding them back on until they hung low and uneven at his hips. The movement broke nothing. Their eyes remained caught, tethered in a way that made the air pulse with quiet intensity.
Jaehyun’s thoughts stung at the edges of his smile, Taesan could’ve looked anywhere else, could’ve taken in the parts of him he hated, his bare legs, his half-covered body. But he didn’t. His gaze never wavered, never slipped, it stayed locked on Jaehyun’s eyes, as if they were the only thing that mattered. And for once, Jaehyun didn’t feel like he was being seen for what he lacked, but for who he was.
And Taesan, my god, he wanted to memorize this. To hold onto the quiet bravery it took for Jaehyun to stand there, to give him this trust. He had always known Jaehyun was strong, but in that moment he understood that his strength was built out of scars, and that Jaehyun was offering him the privilege of touching them gently.
Neither of them looked away, neither of them needed to. But after a few quiet seconds, with their breaths still tangled, the moment shifted.
Taesan doesn't even ask, he simply slips an arm beneath Jaehyun’s knees and another around his back, lifting him once more with that same effortless strength. The motion so fluid it almost feels rehearsed, and still makes Jaehyun’s stomach twist, though this time it isn’t from embarrassment but something hotter, something he refuses to name.
Being carried like this, pressed so close against Taesan’s chest, makes his thoughts wander in directions he has no business going. He wonders if it’s wrong that he doesn’t hate it, that a part of him wants to stay in these arms longer than necessary.
When Taesan leans down, lowering him carefully onto the mattress, Jaehyun’s heart stutters violently. Their faces end up so close, breaths brushing and mingling in the narrow space between them. For a fleeting moment, the world feels suspended – neither of them moving, neither daring to break the fragile intensity.
Jaehyun feels the warmth of Taesan’s exhale against his lips, and for one insane second, he thinks about closing that last inch himself. His pulse is a mess, his mind screaming at him to breathe, to push away, to stop thinking like this, but his body doesn’t listen. Jaehyun wonders if he leaned up just an inch, would Taesan meet him there? His pulse races at the thought, heat curling low in his belly.
It’s Taesan who pulls reality back with a quiet, unexpected murmur. "Can I sleep with you?" he swallows thickly. Jaehyun jolts upright instinctively, almost forgetting his own injured ankle. "W-what?" His ears burn, his heart threatening to claw out of his chest.
Taesan immediately raises his hands in surrender, rushing to explain, his expression caught somewhere between guilty and flustered. "I mean in your room. You... might need help. If something happens in the middle of the night."
The excuse is reasonable, practical even, but it doesn’t change the fire already licking at Jaehyun’s insides. He nods quickly, maybe too quickly. Not because he doesn’t have another choice, he could insist he’ll be fine, but because a reckless, selfish part of him wants Taesan close.
Neither of them argues about the arrangement that follows. The couch stands as the obvious, safe choice, and Taesan moves toward it without hesitation. Jaehyun watches him, biting back the words he’ll never say out loud – that he doesn’t want Taesan across the room, he wants him right here, warm and within reach. But silence feels safer, so he lets it be.
They don’t discuss why Taesan doesn’t dare sleep beside him, or why Jaehyun doesn’t ask him to. Both of them already know the answer – the air between them is charged, their hearts reckless, too wild to be trusted just yet. Taesan trusts his self-control only if he keeps his distance. Jaehyun doesn’t trust himself at all.
So they both let the distance exist, even as their hearts beat louder than sleep.
And just like that, time slips forward. Taesan takes care of Jaehyun over the next three days, helping him eat, move, and rest, until Jaehyun can finally stand and run on his own two feet again.
~ Return to the Present Day ~
Now, weeks later, Taesan watched Jaehyun across the room – sitting on the floor, towel draped over his neck, staring at nothing while the others talked and laughed. There was sweat on his collarbone, a tremble in his fingers. He hadn’t smiled for real in days.
Taesan tightened his grip on the water bottle in his hand. He didn’t want to push, he never wanted Jaehyun to feel cornered again. But maybe it was time to say something...something real, something Jaehyun had never let himself believe.
You’re not broken.
You’re not disgusting.
You’re beautiful, and I see you.
Honestly, Taesan had wanted to talk to Jaehyun the very first day he noticed him acting strange. At first it seemed small, just a missed laugh, a quieter answer, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He told himself maybe Jaehyun just needed space. Maybe he’d come around, or if something was truly wrong, he would tell Taesan himself. Jaehyun wasn’t the type to hold things in forever.
But none of that happened, days passed, and Jaehyun only seemed to shrink further into himself, shadows settling under his eyes. Tonight, Taesan couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to know.
Before going to Jaehyun directly, though, he thought maybe the others had noticed something too. If there was a reason, maybe they already knew.
The living room was dim except for the TV glow, laughter spilling as Riwoo and Woonhak bickered over a game controller. Sungho sat sprawled on the couch, Leehan perched on the armrest beside him. They all went just a little quiet when Taesan stepped in, not completely, but enough.
He stood there for a second, twisting the bottle cap in his hands, then asked straight out, his voice firmer than he felt. "Hyung...do you know what happened to Jaehyun hyung?"
Sungho, their oldest, blinked, caught off guard, his lips parted, but nothing came out. He shifted in his seat, clearly hesitating, like he didn’t know how to put it into words. Before he could answer, Riwoo spoke up instead, scratching the back of his neck.
"It was...last week," Riwoo began carefully. "We were just playing around at night, remember? Jaehyun was with us too." And Taesan did remember, he could picture it now.
That night, all six of them had piled into the living room. Woonhak had been the loudest, tossing pillows around like weapons while Leehan kept scolding him in that half-serious, half-laughing tone. Riwoo was draped across the floor like he owned it, and Sungho had been leaning against the couch, half-amused, half-exasperated as always.
Jaehyun had been there too, lying on his back near the edge of the group, one arm folded under his head. He hadn’t joined in the chaos, just watched with a soft, small smile, the kind that lit his face without making noise, every now and then his laugh had slipped out, quiet but warm.
The teasing had started innocently enough. Riwoo had pointed at Sungho, grinning wide. "Yah, no wonder Onedoors call you Yeppi. You’re practically like a girl!" Woonhak jumped on it immediately, clapping his hands. "Pretty boy Sungho! Our visual flower!"
Leehan had groaned. "Aish, you two never stop." But of course, they didn’t stop. Riwoo leaned closer, wagging his eyebrows. "Sungho, seriously, how do you do it? So beautiful, so delicate"
"Don’t call me delicate!" Sungho had snapped, ears turning red as the others laughed.bWoonhak, relentless, flopped across his lap. "But hyung, you’re so pretty, maybe you’re actually–"
"Enough!" Sungho had exploded, standing up in a burst of frustrated energy. His voice was louder than usual, sharp in the air. "How could I be a girl? I have a d-!"
The room froze. For a split second, silence pressed in, heavy and awkward. Sungho’s chest rose and fell, his face red not just from anger but from realizing what he’d almost shouted. Riwoo and Woonhak looked startled, Leehan tried to cover with a laugh, mumbling something about calming down.
But everyone’s eyes had flicked, just for a moment, toward Jaehyun. He hadn’t said a word, his smile had slipped, expression shuttering so fast it almost looked like nothing happened at all. He sat up, muttered something about being tired, and left the room before anyone could stop him. No one brought it up again.
Back in the present, Riwoo’s voice trailed off as he explained, guilt clear in his tone. "I think...maybe he thought we were teasing him. That’s why he’s been down since then."
Taesan exhaled slowly, fingers tightening around the bottle in his hand. The pieces fell together in his head, not perfectly, not completely, but enough. He wasn’t angry at Sungho, not at all. Sungho was reliable, protective, someone Jaehyun trusted deeply. Jaehyun knew that as well as Taesan did. So no, this wasn’t about blame. It was about something deeper, something Jaehyun was hiding behind all of this.
Taesan shook his head, his voice quiet but firm. "It’s okay, hyung, it’s not your fault." And without another word, he left the living room, heading down the hall toward Jaehyun’s room.
Taesan stood in front of the door, his chest rising and falling as if every breath weighed too much. From inside, faint, muffled sobs bled through the crack – the kind of sound someone only makes when they’re trying not to be heard.
The door wasn’t closed all the way. He pushed it open quietly, stepping inside with the lightest tread. Jaehyun was curled beneath the blankets on his bed, the shape of his shoulders shaking despite his best efforts to stay still.
"Hyung.." Taesan whispered, voice gentle, almost afraid. But the sound startled Jaehyun anyway. He sat up like he’d woken from a nightmare, sweat glistening at his temple. His eyes were red, lashes clumped with tears, his cheeks swollen from crying too long. "Huh?" His voice cracked painfully around the single syllable.
Taesan’s chest tightened, he crossed the room and lowered himself onto the edge of the bed without a word. It wasn’t unusual for him to sit close to Jaehyun like this, they’d done it countless times, late nights talking or sharing music, but this moment felt different. The air between them was heavier.
"Are you okay?" Taesan asked softly. He knew the answer already. But his heart was breaking too, with every tear that still clung to Jaehyun’s skin.
Jaehyun turned his face away, his voice small. "I’m good! Just.. stressed about work, you know?" He tried to sound casual, but Taesan noticed everything, the way Jaehyun’s fingers twisted restlessly in the sheets, the way his eyes refused to meet his.
That’s when Taesan reached out, his hand settled over Jaehyun’s trembling one - warm, steady, grounding. Jaehyun flinched at the contact. They had held hands before, of course, but never like this. This touch was different, firmer, deliberate, and filled with something that sent sparks running through Jaehyun’s chest even as it soothed him. He didn’t have the strength to pull away.
"Hyung," Taesan said again, "If you’re hurting, you can always come to me. You know that, right?" his voice deep with sincerity.
"I told you I’m fine." Jaehyun slipped his hand free, forcing his tone to stay even. Taesan’s brows pulled together, his next words came stronger, sharper, not cruel, but impossible to ignore. "If you’re fine... just look at me."
Jaehyun froze, his throat tightened. "I said look into my eyes." This time Taesan’s voice was rougher, more of a command than a plea.
Slowly, reluctantly, Jaehyun obeyed. His broken gaze lifted, meeting Taesan’s, his eyes were tired, glassy, still wet with tears, and Taesan’s expression immediately softened. In that instant, he saw everything Jaehyun was trying so hard to hide.
So Taesan didn’t speak, he simply moved forward, wrapping his arms around Jaehyun and pulling him close.
The hug was quiet but overwhelming. Jaehyun melted against him, burying his face in the crook of Taesan’s neck as more tears slipped free, dampening his skin. Taesan held him firmly, one hand moving in slow circles over his back, wordlessly promising he wouldn’t let go.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was filled with Jaehyun’s shaky breaths and Taesan’s steady heartbeat, and it was enough.
Finally, Jaehyun’s hands lifted, hesitant at first, then firmer, until they wrapped around Taesan’s back, returning the embrace.
When they pulled apart, Jaehyun blinked nervously, trying to meet Taesan’s eyes but unable to hold the gaze for long. It should have been normal; they’d always been close. But now, staring into Taesan’s face felt impossible, dangerous.
"Hyung," Taesan said gently, "please tell me what’s wrong, why were you crying?"
Jaehyun inhaled shakily, he did feel lighter now, like the weight on his chest had eased, but the truth still clung to him like chains. He didn’t have the courage to let it out, didn’t think it was fair to. After all, Taesan was just a member, just a friend.
But the way Taesan was looking at him...he couldn’t lie again, he had already failed once. "Taesan, I..." His voice wavered. "Honestly, I don’t know if you’d hate me after this. But I really...I need someone to talk to." Taesan said nothing, he only waited, eyes steady, giving Jaehyun space to breathe.
And then Jaehyun said it, something Taesan never expected.
"I feel so lonely without you." His voice cracked again. "I mean... I can’t even explain it. I just start missing you whenever you leave practice early, or even when you leave the group chats in the dorm, I tried to act normal, to be normal without you,but it’s like–" He broke off, swallowing hard before forcing himself to look straight into Taesan’s eyes. "Taesan, I think it’s because you make me feel beautiful, even though I’m not."
Taesan doesn’t know what to feel. His chest is split open with two opposing storms, Jaehyun’s words sting, cutting into him like glass, but buried inside them is the rawest confession Taesan has ever heard. "You make me feel beautiful", Jaehyun had said it as if it were nothing, but Taesan knows that for Jaehyun, that’s everything. He should be glad, maybe even overjoyed, yet instead he feels like his lungs can’t catch air. Because Jaehyun also said "even though I'm not".
And that contradiction burned inside Taesan’s chest, leaving him confused, nervous, desperate to know what Jaehyun really wanted from all this. Was there a solution? Was there even a future here? He opened his mouth, ready to ask, but before he could, Jaehyun spoke again.
"I really tried to stay away from you, but it just didn’t work." His voice was soft, shaky, but heavy enough to split the silence wide open between them. The way he says it, not an excuse, not a defense, but a surrender. It pulls something sharp and hungry out of Taesan’s chest. He knows, deep down, that Jaehyun never wanted distance either. They orbit each other like gravity, and neither has the strength to resist.
But then, almost as if to protect himself, Jaehyun’s gaze dropped, his lips pressing together until the words slipped free, bitter and trembling, "I guess I really gotta come back to my senses and stay away from you, 'cause this–" he lifted his hand just enough to motion between them, the air charged, his chest tightening when his eyes accidentally caught Taesan’s loving stare before he tore them away again, "this isn’t meaningful."
The instant those words left him, Jaehyun’s breath caught, regret flooding him faster than he could swallow it down. He knew how badly they stung, how much they hurt Taesan, but also himself. His eyes fell shut sharply, bracing for the damage, before he felt it – Taesan’s hand gripping his own, firm and possessive yet strangely gentle.
"What do you mean by that, huh?" Taesan’s voice wasn’t just mad, it was pained. He never expected this, not from Jaehyun. Sure, they had fought before, but Jaehyun had always carried something soft for him, something tender in every word and every glance. Maybe if Taesan dared to spell it out, he’d call it what it was – love. And now, to hear Jaehyun sound so broken, it wasn’t the words themselves that hurt Taesan most. It was the sound of him breaking.
"You’re avoiding my gaze." Jaehyun’s whole body stiffened. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, as if he’d lost the ability to respond. Slowly, he shook his head, a silent denial. Taesan’s lips curved into a grin, one threaded with possession and ache.
"You always look into my eyes when you flirt. What’s wrong with you today?" Taesan’s voice was low, raw.
"Because I’m not flirting now." Jaehyun said with a fake smile, as if smiling would recover everything and hide the pain, just like he’s been doing for years. Taesan hates it the most, how Jaehyun masks his trembling heart with something so shallow, as if pretending could protect him from being seen.
Taesan’s jaw tightened, eyes narrowing, the weight of his stare drilling through Jaehyun’s shield. "Don’t do that," he muttered, his voice low, rough around the edges. Jaehyun blinked, his smile faltering. "Do what?"
"That," Taesan snapped softly, leaning closer until their breaths tangled in the narrow space between them. "That smile you put on when you’re breaking inside. You think I don’t notice? You think I haven’t watched you do this again and again, every time you’re scared of being too much, or not enough?"
Jaehyun’s lips parted, but no words came out. His chest rose sharply, betraying the chaos inside.
"You’re not gonna hide from me like that anymore," Taesan said, his hand tightening on Jaehyun’s wrist, firm but trembling faintly with his own fear. "Not when it’s me, not when it’s us."
And that was the moment Taesan tugged him closer, his voice raw, strung tight between command and desperation. "Stop with this, Jaehyun! And look at me."
The words rolled through Jaehyun like fire, searing his nerves until he shivered. He knew he had no choice, not really, not when it was Taesan. So he surrendered, dragging his eyes up at last, and for a second, longer, maybe, he let himself drown in Taesan’s gaze.
When their eyes lingered too long, Jaehyun let Taesan see it, his vulnerable side, raw and unguarded – again, this time, he didn’t look away.
Taesan’s chest tightened, words slipping before he could stop them. "Is this really nothing?" His voice cracked with something close to anger, no, not anger, desperation. It was the first time Jaehyun had ever heard him speak like this, heavy with unshaken emotion.
Jaehyun froze, he didn’t know how to answer, his lips trembling uselessly. Then his eyes burned, tears breaking free. He shut them tight, as though that could hold everything inside.
Taesan panicked instantly, guilt flashing across his face. "I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to hurt you." His words tumbled, frantic, searching for repair.
Jaehyun’s eyes flew open at that, the sound of Taesan’s panic cutting through his own. "You didn’t hurt me," he whispered hoarsely, shaking his head, tears running fast now. "It’s me! I was wrong, I’m sorry." His chest caved as the sobs finally broke free.
Taesan couldn’t bear it, his hands rose, cupping Jaehyun’s damp cheeks, tilting his face up. "You didn’t do anything wrong, hyung." His voice was steady now, firm in its gentleness. "I was just... hurt because you said it wasn’t meaningful and-"
"I’m sorry," Jaehyun cut in, voice sharp with urgency, like he couldn’t let Taesan’s thought finish. "I was trying to stay away from you, I didn’t mean anything like that. Whatever we have–" His throat caught, his heart hammering painfully, but the look in Taesan’s eyes left him no choice, "it’s everything to me."
The words landed heavy, burning through Taesan until the world fell away. Nothing else mattered, – not the dorm, not the company, not the rules, just this moment. His lips parted in disbelief, but his face softened with an invisible happiness Jaehyun could read as clearly as his own tears.
Still, Taesan’s voice broke through, quieter but no less sharp. "But you also said you’re not beautiful." Jaehyun’s sigh came heavy, as though the air itself betrayed him. That topic - that wound, was the one thing he wanted to avoid. "Because I feel that way," he muttered, eyes lowering, trying to end it there.
But Taesan didn’t let him. "Hyung, how many times do I have to tell you, you’re beautiful!" His voice rose, sharp with a conviction Jaehyun had never heard directed at him before. It wasn’t scolding, but it wasn’t soft either. It was the tone Taesan used in practice when fighting to prove a point he refused to lose, hearing it here, turned on him, left Jaehyun stunned.
"You’re literally the most gorgeous being I’ve ever seen," Taesan pushed on, the words spilling raw, "your smile, your eyes, your nose, your hair, your lips– everything about you is pretty, hyung. Just how many times do I have to remind you!?"
Jaehyun sat frozen, wet-eyed and trembling, his whole body aching for some kind of touch, some physical proof of Taesan’s words. But he thought he didn’t deserve it, he thought Taesan wouldn’t dare.
And then Taesan realized what he had just said - what he had crossed. The line was gone, broken by his own confession. There was nothing left to hide. His voice dropped, low and rough, staring right into Jaehyun’s wet gaze. "What more do I have to do?"
Before Jaehyun could even breathe out a reply, Taesan leaned in. Jaehyun’s fists clutched at Taesan’s hoodie, his body trembling, the closeness swallowing him whole. His stomach twisted violently - 'was Taesan actually going to kiss him?' His mind screamed, his body shook, but then, the warmth.
Taesan’s breath ghosted against his cheek. And then, softly, reverently, Taesan pressed the lightest kiss there – right where a tear still clung. He drank it in, swallowed it whole, as if he could take Jaehyun’s pain away with his lips.
A sharp gasp escaped Jaehyun, trembling all the way down to his core. Before words could form, Taesan moved again, his lips brushing the other cheek, leaving another kiss, soft and fleeting but loud in Jaehyun’s ears. The sound of it, the little click of contact, made his knees weak.
And then Taesan tilted his head forward, resting a long, steady kiss on Jaehyun’s forehead. His lips lingered, trembling faintly, his breath uneven when he finally pulled back just enough. The exhale that left him was heavy, rough, as though he was confessing with air alone, 'this is hard for me too'.
Taesan held Jaehyun’s gaze, unblinking, until the moment Jaehyun’s eyes faltered. They dropped lower, subtle, hesitant, until they lingered on his lips. Taesan followed the glance in disbelief, his heart stumbling inside his chest as he caught the tiny swallow that betrayed Jaehyun’s want. For a breath, he froze, he had dreamed of this, tortured himself with the possibility, but the reality of Jaehyun asking, without words, only with the tremble of his lashes and the hunger in his eyes, left him dizzy and undone.
Before either of them could think better of it, before fear or society or the outside world could come clawing back in, Taesan moved. His gaze stayed locked on Jaehyun’s, drinking in every flicker of hesitation, every waver in the other’s lips. And god, those lips trembled so badly Taesan’s chest ached just looking at them. He didn’t need Jaehyun to confess it out loud, he knew, he had always known Jaehyun had never kissed anyone before. He had been single all his life, untouched in ways that made this moment unbearably fragile.
Their lips brushed, feather-light, and Jaehyun froze. He didn’t close the distance, too afraid, too unpracticed, while Taesan hovered, testing how long he could wait. But then came the sound, a tiny broken whine that Jaehyun probably hadn’t even meant to make, and it cracked Taesan’s restraint clean through. That small pout on Jaehyun’s mouth was enough to ruin him.
He crossed the line, pressing his lips fully against Jaehyun’s. The kiss was impossibly soft, far softer than the fever of their thoughts. It was misery and apology, grief and longing, everything they hadn’t said pressed together in silence. Taesan thought he could keep it that way, gentle and careful, until Jaehyun parted his lips just slightly, maybe to breathe, maybe in nervous instinct.
The sound of Jaehyun’s gasp as Taesan slipped halfway into his mouth made him falter. He panicked, Jaehyun was panicking too, but Taesan steadied him, one hand finding the curve of his waist, rubbing slow circles there until the tension ebbed. Jaehyun melted beneath the touch, so Taesan guided him back into the kiss, taking the lead, patient but greedy.
He tried, truly tried to keep it slow. But the burn inside him, the wildfire of finally tasting what he had starved for, made his control unravel. His fingers tightened on Jaehyun’s waist, dragging him down against the mattress as Taesan leaned over him, mouth pressing harder, deeper. Their lips slid, parted, clung - Taesan licking into him, savoring, tasting, biting at that trembling lower lip until Jaehyun gasped and whimpered into his mouth.
Jaehyun was a mess beneath him. Every sound he made, every moan, every broken little breath, sent Taesan spiraling. Jaehyun’s stomach knotted and twisted, heat flooding him in places he had never imagined a kiss could reach. By the time his underwear dampened, he couldn’t even think, couldn’t believe Taesan had wrecked him like this, with nothing but his mouth. And yet, it didn’t feel shameful, it felt right, it felt good.
He gave in willingly now, lips parting, tongue tentative but pliant as Taesan coaxed him deeper. And once the panic was gone, Taesan stopped holding back. He kissed rougher, hotter, sucking at Jaehyun’s tongue, dragging his mouth open further, licking down into him until Jaehyun thought he could feel it all the way in his throat.
It’s too much for Jaehyun, his body twists with unfamiliar heat. And that’s exactly why he breaks, with a shaky shove against Taesan’s chest, he turns his head to the side, panting, face burning with humiliation, he can’t even look at him.
"Go- go to your room," Jaehyun mutters, voice trembling but carrying a sharp edge of authority, clinging to his role like armor. "It’s late, you should sleep"
For a beat, Taesan just stares at him, lips swollen, chest heaving. Then he scoffs softly, eyes dark but amused, masking the sting.
"As if we were going to do anything further...were we?!" he throws back, tone half-sarcastic, half-defensive. He doesn’t wait for a reply, doesn’t let Jaehyun’s silence gut him more than it already does. Pushing off the mattress, he stands up ready to leave, the taste of Jaehyun still burning on his tongue.
Taesan takes a few steps away, his chest still rising and falling hard, but something in his eyes flickers, something stubborn, hungry. He halts at the doorframe, jaw tight, then spins back around before Jaehyun can even breathe out properly. His hand grabs the side of Jaehyun’s jaw, tilting his head up, and then he’s back on his lips again – no patience this time, no testing, it’s rough, hot and greedy, a kiss that steals Jaehyun’s breath before he even knows what’s happening.
Jaehyun fists the sheets, helpless under the weight of Taesan’s mouth, and then, god, the slip of his name, "Taesan!" spills out too loud, too desperate, breaking between their lips.
The sound shatters what little self-control Taesan had left, he groans deep into the kiss, nips hard at Jaehyun’s swollen lip as if to brand him with the moment, and then he finally tears himself away. Breathing ragged, forehead pressed against Jaehyun’s for one stolen second. His voice is ruined when he whispers, low and dangerous, "I can’t just.. stay like this."
And just like that, he pushes himself up and leaves the room, shoulders stiff, fists clenched at his sides, leaving Jaehyun completely undone, lips wrecked, underwear sticky, sanity in tatters.