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“This is just how things are”.
Jiyong says so.
It’s not necessarily that Seunghyun disagrees. It’s actually more an observable fact than any kind of great piece of wisdom Jiyong has imparted but here is the thing; they’ve been touring for almost a year. Seunghyun films, Jiyong writes, they do interviews and variety shows, they get on planes in one timezone and repeat the day in another. Sometimes they don’t sleep for days and yet, somehow, Seunghyun has time and Jiyong has none.
So sure, it is how things are, Seunghyun reads the same schedule of back to back activities Jiyong does, and can see a window of more than 25 minutes to kiss each other senseless and fuck too raw and too fast to mean anything.
He is dead on his feet, Seunghyun can see. So it’s not a fair fight, but Seunghyun feels obligated to tell him that spending the 16 hours between international flights at the beck and call of whatever Hyunsuk needs is not a good use of free time. The trainees he wants Jiyong to see will still be trainees in a few weeks, the tracks Jiyong’s meant to be writing to be vaulted for some latest girl group, or boy group don’t need to be heard right now. He’s already told Youngbae that if you just ignore any YG-related phone call, eventually you stop getting them but he’d just looked at him with huge, despairing eyes, and said: please don’t tell Jiyong you are doing that.
So, in not quite those words, he looks at Jiyong. They are in a very impersonal hotel. There is literally no point attempting to go home. Jiyong’s on the bed, manually blinking to keep his eyes open.
“You can close them, you know”, Seunghyun says. “Cancel, seriously”.
“And say what?” Jiyong drops his forearms over his eyes.
“No is a full sentence, Jiyong”, Seunghyun says, didactic. He takes Jiyong’s foot into his lap, presses his thumb into a pressure point. It makes him groan, soft, his toes twitching.
He hums. “I’m lying in bed. It’s really not an excuse”.
“Lying in bed is, in fact, a necessity of being human, which I know is a constant inconvenience to you”. He squeezes his heel. It makes Jiyong smile, makes him seem to consider it. He watches him work it through. If he cancelled they would have all afternoon, most of the night, they could order room service, the idea of just having him soft in his arms for any significant amount of time is mouth watering. He’s down bad, he knows.
But Jiyong drags himself upright. Seunghyun jokes and teases, is gentle and kind, even as he knows, watching Jiyong pull on his coat, that this is so unsustainable. When they were trainees it was easier to coax Jiyong out of these moods, even before they got together. Seunghyun would show him some lines, some raps, some demo and Jiyong would get mesmerised and not protest at all when Seunghyun suggested food or sleep after. But things have changed a lot. It’s not necessarily Jiyong who has changed, it’s more their circumstances.
Sometimes Seunghyun thinks he is scared, really. Scared of the rise and the fall. He has gone through a few, now, and he always gets back up. But Seunghyun can see, in the way Jiyong acts now, in the hours he puts in the studio, in all the time he gives Hyunsuk, that he is afraid of going through the cycle again - activities cancelled, promotions on hold, and the terrifying vacuum that comes with not knowing who will stick with you.
Seunghyun always will. He tells him as much. But Jiyong is not one to ever be satisfied with just that. And even if he is back on top, even if he has everyone looking at him with glittering eyes again, the edge remains and the work never stops.
So he watches Jiyong leave the hotel room for whatever meeting he has scheduled, work and networking and whatever else, huge sunglasses on his face to hide how tired he looks.
“I’ll be back soon”, Jiyong promises, kisses him on the mouth quick and then heads out. Soon means different things to Jiyong. Seunghyun doesn’t give him deadlines, unlike most people in his life, and so soon is not a term that ever amounts too much.
He feels a bit pathetic, really, waiting around for him. But what is he supposed to do? Sure, he has scripts to read and learn. He can do that on his bed. He doesn’t want to be around people more than he already has to. The tour is enough for him.
So he waits and waits and Jiyong doesn’t come back until late evening. Seunghyun already has the lights off but can hear his manager outside letting Jiyong in, can hear Jiyong stumbling as he takes his clothes off and slides into bed with an exhausted sigh.
Seunghyun turns around to hug him, kiss the top of his head.
“All good?”
“Mmhh”, Jiyong nods, eyes closed and lips parted. He is already falling asleep, Seunghyun can see. So he just smooths his hair back, presses his lips to his forehead. They can catch up some other time.
-
Some other time is not the day after. Seunghyun kisses Jiyong good morning and Jiyong lets him do for less than a minute before he is mumbling against his lips.
“Shower”, he says, and Seunghyun doesn’t join him because he knows Jiyong will be out in two minutes tops.
They have practices and soundchecks to attend, a new venue to learn, and everyone wants an opinion from Jiyong on basically everything they do. Seunghyun misses, selfishly, when it was just the two of them promoting together. Now Jiyong’s attention is split between the other members, choreo is more difficult, and if Seunghyun is honest, they simply can’t bounce around on stage like they used to.
Seunghyun, though, still believes him when Jiyong throws arms around his neck after two and half hours of performing and says;
“I’m all yours”. Wet with sweat and breathless. They say hours of thank yous and goodbyes, shower and take off makeup, sit and talk through the minutiae of trivial mistakes they’ve all made. Jiyong talks like there is some standard they are not meeting, like they are setting the standard with everything they do. He dissects his own performance as equally as he tears into all of theirs, which is a balm on the humbling of it.
There are warnings about the third leg of tours; not quite the homestretch, but far enough in that the excitement and novelty has worn dramatically thin. It’s when people fall out, it’s when it can all be very terse. Some take Jiyong’s constant critique worse than others. Seunghyun, honestly, finds it terribly endearing. Maybe because he got the lion’s share of it in their trainee days.
Dinner is a tragic affair back at their hotel, shared between them on the bed. Jiyong looks at him through his lashes, worries his lip and giggles and blushes at all his quips. It’s promising, Seunghyun thinks. He imagines kissing his neck, of the feel of Jiyong around him, the idea of taking his time with him, getting him all breathless, enjoying all the little noises he makes. Jiyong has rules for tours though; no marks, no blowjobs. Seunghyun has no rules, he sounds excellent with a gravelly throat and never really shows enough skin for marks to matter.
They end up kissing, chair against the door in case a manager needs them for something, phones on silent. It’s almost too good to be true. Jiyong’s hands are gripping the headboard, thighs parting as Seunghyun settles between them. He hasn’t had enough time to get Jiyong naked in about a month, he thinks, delirious at the thought. But his moans get softer and softer, though, until they’re suspiciously non-existent, and when Seunghyun looks up, Jiyong is out cold.
He lets out a laugh, incredulous, head dropping to Jiyong’s thigh. There is no point waking him, Seunghyun thinks. He will be groggy and furious, and that’s not the mood Seunghyun was cultivating.
He runs hands through his hair, takes a very long shower and finishes the wine Jiyong abandoned. Tentatively he pulls the duvet out from Jiyong, but he’s too asleep to care. Seunghyun watches him for a bit, the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips. He misses Jiyong, he thinks, which shouldn’t really make sense, but it does.
-
“Fuck, I am so sorry”, Jiyong says the morning after, rubbing sleep from his eyes and hair a mess. “I can’t believe I passed out like that”.
“You needed it, clearly”, Seunghyun says. He means for the words to be neutral but he can’t help the slight reprimand in his voice. Jiyong’s eye twitches slightly.
“What do you mean?”, he asks, tone calm.
“You needed the sleep”, Seunghyun tells him. He digs his fingers into his palm. He shouldn’t talk about this now, in the morning, with a day full of activities but he does. “It’s fine, Jiyong. I just wish, you know, that we could actually spend time together for more than five minutes before you have something else on your schedule -”
“It’s your schedule too”, Jiyong says, gets out of bed. “It’s our schedule. I cannot exactly cancel a concert”.
Except it’s not, really, because Jiyong just put an EP out, and is planning an album, and a tour. So yes, maybe Seunghyun wishes he would cancel at least one fucking concert. Sue him.
“You know I don’t mean that”, he says instead. “But you need to take better care of yourself”.
Jiyong snorts. It makes Seunghyun’s jaw tighten. When he gets petulant like this it’s like they are back in their trainee days, when Jiyong would scold him for going out before practice, and then show off just to make Seunghyun really see how much he had to catch up on.
“Sure. I will”, Jiyong says, putting his clothes on. “Now can we go? We are gonna be late”.
Seunghyun almost wants to stay in bed out of spite.
“It won’t kill you, you know. There is always something to be late to. Maybe you should try it”.
Jiyong gapes at him, arms spread wide.
“Are you gonna be like this all day?! We are literally always together, Seunghyun. I apologised, what do you want me to do? I am sorry that you didn’t get to fuck me last night -”
The words make Seunghyun flinch slightly, nose curling. Intimacy is never something as vulgar as this to him. Something passes across Jiyong’s face, like he knows he pushed it too far.
“I didn’t -”
Seunghyun doesn’t want to hear it. He gets dressed, too, heads for the door.
“Whatever, Jiyong. Do whatever you want. Just don't come whine at me later, alright?”, he tells him before leaving. It’s cruel, he knows, and unfair, but when Jiyong is needling him like this he can’t help it. He shuts the door behind him without looking. He is even early for practice, now. Fuck that, he thinks, and purposefully hides in some green room for longer than he should before showing up, Jiyong throwing daggers at him with his eyes.
-
They spend all day ignoring each other. At this point everyone in the group has had at least one fight with everyone else so if the others notice, they clearly don’t care enough to ask. Jiyong spends his time lounging with Youngbae and laughing too loud at whatever he says.
It’s tempting, to keep up the sullen act, but as soon as they get on stage it’s gone. He can’t help the way his chest fills whenever he is performing with the others, with Jiyong, when he has someone always in perfect synchrony with him. It’s addictive, it’s why he keeps doing this. He looks at Jiyong dripping with sweat and can’t help the way his gaze goes dark, can’t help enjoying the way Jiyong flushes when he tries to ignore him and fails.
Jiyong crashes into him as soon as they are done, pulls him into a toilet and shuts the door.
“I am sorry”, he gasps into his mouth. “I am sorry, I was mean this morning”.
“You were”, Seunghyu agrees, digs his fingers into his hips and slots a leg between Jiyong’s. Jiyong arches immediately, mouth open.
“Let me make it up to you”, he says, all coy, and undoes his belt.
He jerks him off in the cubicle. Seunghyun is weak to it, keyed up and sweat on his brow. He comes embarrassingly fast, maybe faster than Jiyong does when Seunghyun drops to his knees and sucks him off. It’s good, because everything with Jiyong is good, but it’s too quick, too fast, too impersonal, even if Jiyong sighs into his mouth at the end like this is all he’d ever need.
“I love you”, he says, and barely gives Seunghyun time to reply before he is checking his phone, eyes widening at the time. “Fuck, we need to go”.
And that’s it, really. Seunghyun sighs as he cleans himself up, leaves the toilet. He spends the rest of the night trailing after Jiyong until they are finally in bed.
Jiyong uses his shoulder as a pillow all through their next flight. He enjoys the rest somehow, even if Seunghyun can’t quite bring himself to sleep cramped with his legs crossed. He can only do it if he’s especially exhausted. Now, he almost prefers it this way because he’s stuck with Jiyong’s warmth against his side and hours of uninterrupted introspection ahead of him.
There is something sort of sisyphean about Jiyong’s situation. He’d never tell that to him. It’s hard to know him as well as Seunghyun does, know his insecurities and his fears and not feel hopeless at how easily Jiyong lets them all control his life. And sure, Seunghyun’s situation is different; he’s sort of loved for his brazen carelessness, for an attitude and personality that feels fresh. It’s really the only thing that kept him a trainee in the first place, he knows. Eventually he got used to it, was able to see that companies and labels are just companies and labels. It took him a long time to see that being told, do you even really want this, when daring to say he would have liked, perhaps, a meal or drink of water through an 18 hours day was just mild psychological warfare, and did not constitute a real judgement on his character.
Jiyong though, he’s been habitually built up and torn down since he was about six. He’s been hearing do you even really want this, do you really think you deserve this since early childhood, until it was words he was saying to others, until he was believing them himself. A fine tuned ego; large enough to create and create, and preen under praise, and still fragile enough to do exactly as he’s told. Jiyong takes nothing for granted, settles for nothing, balances perfect gratefulness with self-assured arrogance and then wonders why his hands shake and he can’t push breath out past the anxiety in his chest.
And Seunghyun doesn’t know how to bring it up, really. Jiyong has always taken the lead in everything they’ve done.
In an ascetic hotel conference room, in a city he’s lost track of, on nothing but plane-rest and coffee, Seunghyun has to address it. They have a sound check at 3 PM, and a show, and their management tells them about a radio show that has invited them last minute. Jiyong has helpfully agreed to attend, to everyone’s joy.
“We don’t really have time”, Youngbae says - and it’s bad when Youngbae has to say something.
“We’ll just go from the studio to the stadium”, Jiyong says with a shrug. “Is that a big deal?”
And the room is exhaustedly quiet on the matter. Daesung sucks in his cheek, makes a face, stops blowing air down a straw into water for long enough to ask;
“When are we going to like -” He laughs, a bit uncertain. “Sleep?”
Jiyong shrugs, smiles. “When we’re dead”.
Seunghyun scoffs, rubs his face. “We’re not doing that, Jiyong”.
Jiyong’s gaze whips to him. He maintains a smile, even if Jiyong’s eyes have sharpened like a cat’s.
“Why?”
“Because it’s unnecessary”, he says, and he means it too. “And I don’t really want to. It’s a waste of energy before a show”.
And tentatively, Youngbae says;
“I’d rather not sing if I don’t have to”.
Jiyong sucks his cheek, looks at Youngbae with considerably more sympathy. “It’s a talk show”.
“I’d rather not speak if I don’t have to. Y’know, vocally”, Daesung admits with a laugh. Seunghyun tries to think of a decision they’ve ever made that went against Jiyong. He’s drawing a concerning blank.
“Okay, so we cancel?” Jiyong picks his nail, sounds like he’s chewing glass.
“Had we even said yes?”, Seunghyun laughs. Jiyong looks at him, and it’s not with the scathing he quite expected. It’s something a little dazed, something new on his face, like he doesn’t know how to respond.
“I suppose not”, he says, soft, eventually.
There is a long pause. Youngbae’s gaze flickers between them.
“Don’t think we are up to it, really. It’s fine though”, he says and stands, puts a firm hand on Jiyong’s shoulder. “Don’t stress, Jiyong”.
Jiyong doesn’t look convinced.
In the elevator, the two of them, Seunghyun breaks the silence.
“I don’t feel I overstepped there”, he says, and brings his hand to the nape of Jiyong’s neck, squeezes the muscle there. Jiyong’s lips drop open at the touch, his cheeks darkening just a little. It’s kind of possessive, Seunghyun thinks, to keep a grip on him like a scruffed kitten but he also finds he can’t bring himself to drop his hand away.
“I didn’t say you did”, Jiyong says.
“Are you going to tell me now?”, Seunghyun smiles. He barely notices he is doing it when he grips Jiyong’s nape tighter, only realises it at how Jiyong’s eyes flutter shut, how his breath stutters slightly.
“No”, he gets out, and his voice sounds small, but not in the way it does when he is upset. “I won’t”.
Seunghyun looks at him, looks at the way he swallows, the flush on his cheeks. He squeezes his nape one more time before dropping his hand.
“Good”.
-
After the show Jiyong is uncharacteristically quiet. He still bows and smiles and thanks everyone in the crew but doesn’t spend much time listening to everyone around him like he usually does. In the car on the way back to the hotel he presses close to Seunghyun, head on his shoulder again. Seunghyun’s hand finds his thigh, rests there.
He is so quiet Seunghyun almost starts worrying.
“Are you alright?”, he asks Jiyong once they are in their hotel room. He watches him as he rummages through his luggage.
“Mhh?”
“Are you alright?”, he repeats. “You have been quiet”.
Jiyong’s head raises, cheeks slightly red. He meets Seunghyun’s gaze, gives him a smile that is not quite forced but not completely spontaneous either.
“I am fine”, he shrugs. “Just...”
His nose scrunches up. Seunghyun would bet money on the fact that he wants to say he is tired but won’t, out of pride or spite from their fight the other day. He half wants to push him to admit it, half can’t wait to have him close.
“Come here”, he says, finally, opens his arms from where he is laying in bed.
Jiyong looks oddly grateful as he crawls over the sheets, ends up on Seunghyun’s lap, his hands on either side of his head as he bends down to kiss him deep. Seunghyun’s fingers trail down his back, feel each knob of his spine. He expects Jiyong to escalate things, because that’s what he has been doing everytime they are this close, wired with adrenaline and lack of sleep. But Jiyong doesn’t, he just nuzzles into his neck, breathes deep against him. Seunghyun feels almost at loss to have him so sweet. Jiyong is sweet, he knows. It just doesn’t really happen on tour.
“Sleep?”, he murmurs, soft, swipes Jiyong’s hair away from his forehead. Jiyong’s head lifts slightly, eyes searching for something across Seunghyun’s face. He just doesn’t really know for what.
“Alright”, Jiyong breathes, something Seunghyun can’t quite define in his voice, almost like disappointment. He doesn’t really move that much, slides only slightly to the side so he is not completely laying on top of Seunghyun. He might as well be, really, but Seunghyun will not be the one telling him to move, even if he is too warm and kind of uncomfortable.
He is exhausted yet he struggles to fall asleep. Jiyong is snoring softly against him in about two minutes flat. He trails fingers down his back, slow, and thinks about the flush on his cheeks in the elevator until sleep finally takes him.
-
If he thought for even a moment Jiyong had finally calmed down slightly with his schedule, he was categorically wrong. He disappears for a photoshoot on their only day of rest and comes back smelling of hair gel only when it’s already nighttime. He takes calls from Teddy in waiting rooms and listens to demos he is being sent in the car on the way to the show. Really the only thing that has changed is that he is not asking anyone else to spend every second of their day on their feet, practicing or planning or writing or networking. His fingernails are bitten down to the core and Seunghyun is exasperated all over again.
It’s not even that Jiyong has no rest and that Seunghyun is concerned, it’s not even that they spend no time together anymore, it’s that Jiyong has suddenly decided each intimate detail of his plans must be relayed. He has taken to his own schedule like a martyr, which in some ways is more annoying than pretending it doesn’t affect him. Seunghyun has given him no response, no indication that he enjoys it, and somehow that’s spurred Jiyong on more.
“Crazy”, he says, deadpan, as Jiyong explains in too much detail how he’s gone none-stop for the last 48 hours. He knows what Jiyong looks like when he’s bragging, he knows the look in his eyes, the almost salacious smile. He’s not bragging about this, though, his eyes are filled with this unknowable emotion. His whole body is like an elastic band pulled too taut, recently. Seunghyun has no clue what he wants from him, from anyone, honestly.
It’s been like this constantly, this building tension. Jiyong has been jittery but doe-eyed, clingy but not intimate, it’s like he wants Seunghyun to see just exactly how far he’s willing to push himself. Jiyong keeps offering all this pain and this overwork, this total disregard for his own self to Seunghyun like it’s a gift. It’s not a gift, it’s just really fucking confusing.
“I think I’ll fly home and then fly back, I have these meetings, I have things I need to prep for my tour -”
“Mmh”. Seunghyun checks his phone.
“Might fit in a few studio sessions”, Jiyong says, airy.
And then, before he can help it, Seunghyun looks up. “With what voice? You’ve been hoarse for days”.
Jiyong flushes, his nose curling. “What? Do you think I sound like shit?”
“No. I think you’re pushing yourself”. He shrugs. “But you don’t care, so yeah, I suppose a studio session won’t hurt”.
JIyong is quiet for a moment. “So you think I shouldn’t do it?”
Seunghyun rolls his eyes, throws his hands up. “Is that what you want to hear?”
“No, it’s not what I wanna hear”, Jiyong spits, flushing darker than Seunghyun’s seen in weeks. “I want you to just -” He cuts himself off, grits his teeth. Seunghyun watches him carefully, the way he covers his mouth, squeezes his eyes shut. “Do you think I shouldn’t do it?”
Seunghyun wets his lips. They are alone, for now, in this green room. Jiyong’s pressing a water bottle to his cheeks now, gazing at Seunghyun under his lashes.
“I don’t even think you should fly home. I think you should stay here with us”, he says.
Jiyong tilts his chin. “Well, I have an album scheduled, and a tour coming up, so I can’t just -”
Seunghyun can’t stand it. He gets up, strolls past Jiyong.
“Yup”, he calls. “You’ve told me”.
Ignoring him feels childish, especially when Jiyong finds him later, looks at him with huge eyes and wraps himself around Seunghyun’s arm. He’s like a cat, that way, Seunghyun will be desperate to touch him all day and get his efforts rewarded with a hiss, but if he pulls away Jiyong will suddenly be by his side.
On stage he’s touchier, his smile glittering. Seunghyun truly feels lost, this game with Jiyong seems to have rules and Seunghyun seems to know none of them. Between solo songs, Jiyong is catching his breath, eyes screwed shut and head against Seunghyun’s shoulder.
“You think I should cancel my flights then?”, he asks.
It takes a moment for Seunghyun to even comprehend what he’s talking about and then all he feels is annoyance that Jiyong would even bring it up here and now. He pushes him back by the shoulder, forces their eyes to meet. Jiyong rocks with the motion, stumbles like his legs are not working, eyes flying to Seunghyun’s.
“You’re not going to cancel them”, Seunghyun says, grip tight on him. He can feel Jiyong’s pulse, thundering, too fast under his collar. “So what is this?”
Jiyong blinks. “I -”
“Do you want me to cancel them for you?”
For a second Jiyong looks like he’s been caught, his features wide and his shoulders set back, frozen. His mouth works around words but nothing comes out. He looks stunningly beautiful, is all Seunghyun can think. The air between them feels unbearably heated. For a moment Seunghyun can’t hear the screams beyond the stage. Jiyong’s breath stutters, he licks his lips.
“Seunghyun -”
Behind him, he can see someone coming up the corridor to collect them. He puts a finger to Jiyong’s lips and feels a tumble of hot air against his knuckles. Jiyong is tense in his grasp, his features open, like Seunghyun could say anything and Jiyong would just nod.
“You’re needed”, he says, low in his throat.
Jiyong nods. Seunghyun watches him go, watches his solo stage from the curtains. It’s good, as always; Jiyong gives everything to the crowd, as always. But his gaze is slightly distant, he is freestyling less; no one else will notice but he almost looks on autopilot. He bows at the end, waves at his fans before stumbling backstage. When his eyes meet Seunghyun’s his legs almost give out, buckle under him. Seunghyun grips his arm, pulls him upright, alarmed; the staff around them is wide-eyed with concern too.
“Are you -”
“Was that good?”, Jiyong breathes, searches his face frantically. “Was I good?”
“Of course it was”, Seunghyun says, slowly. Jiyong feels burning hot where he is touching him. For some reason it makes him hyperaware of all the people who are barely a step away from them. “Of course. Of course you were”.
“I didn’t sound too hoarse?”
“You sounded great”, Seunghyun reassures him, squeezes his arm and rubs a thumb over his skin.
Jiyong’s eyelashes flutter. He wets his lips, looks like he is about to ask something else but they don’t have time to, frankly. They will all go back on stage soon. They can talk about whatever this is later. A staff member is approaching with juice. Seunghyun takes it from them, shoves it in Jiyong’s hand.
“Drink”, Seunghyun tells him, short. Jiyong does, immediately, gulps it down with his gaze still locked on him.
“Thank you”, Jiyong says when he is done, quietly. He turns slightly, blinks like he is only now seeing the rest of the people around them. When he starts bowing and thanking them Seunghyun lets go of him, only for Jiyong’s hand to shoot out and grip his wrist tight. Alright then.
They get through the rest of the show. Jiyong is throwing him glances every minute or so, which is not unusual. It’s just that instead of coming to him it’s like he is waiting for something. And even when Seunghyun goes to his side, he still looks like he is waiting. When the concert is over something shifts; the expectation on his face becomes looking like anxiety. His leg is thrumming against him in the car, he is chewing his nails all the way back to the hotel. Seunghyun grabs his hands, holds it between his own to keep it away from his mouth. Jiyong’s eyes are huge on him.
By the time they are back in their room Jiyong has somewhat managed to calm himself down. From what, he is not sure. Seunghyun closes the door behind him, turns to ask him what the fuck that was but is stopped on his tracks. Jiyong is grabbing clothes from around the room, throwing them half-hazardly into his luggage.
“What are you doing?”, Seunghyun asks. Jiyong’s gaze snaps up.
“Packing”, he says, and Seunghyun can so clearly hear the challenge in his voice. “My flight is early”.
“Your flight”, Seunghyun repeats. “Are you fucking serious?”
“I told you I was -”
“Yes, I know you told me”, Seunghyun snaps. “So why do you keep looking at me like you want me to stop you? What even was that, backstage?”
Jiyong flinches slightly, his cheeks darkening. He turns away, shrugs. His voice is that light tone he takes when he’s being evasive.
“You told me I sound like shit, so I just asked you how I sounded. Not that weird -”
“That’s not what I said”. Seunghyun feels his jaw work.
“Really?” Jiyong folds a shirt, gaze anywhere but Seunghyun’s face. “Sounded like you said; ‘don’t record an album, Jiyong, you sound like shit’ –”
“No”. Seunghyun talks over him. “I said don’t fly halfway around the world to record takes you won’t use because you are tired -”
Jiyong huffs, rolls his eyes like Seunghyun just doesn’t get it. “Whatever. I wish I was afforded the leniency to release one single and then take whatever little project I want, but I am not –”
Oh fuck him. He crosses the room, grabs his wrist and hauls him away from the suitcase. Jiyong stumbles, his back hits the wall. Seunghyun crowds him before he can think about moving. He is suddenly so tired of this. Jiyong would get like this when they were younger, sometimes, ignore Seunghyun for days until he’d have to go look for him in the studio, lock the door and demand an explanation. He doesn’t have a door to lock here, so he just presses closer.
“If you wanna go, go”, he says. “But don’t pretend you are being strong-armed into all this against your will, and don’t start on me because you can’t decide what you want”.
Jiyong’s pupils are huge, his shoulders set down, his eyes big. He wets his lips. Seunghyun’s eyes can’t help but follow the motion.
“You’re hurting my wrist”, Jiyong murmurs.
Seunghyun doesn’t let go. Jiyong’s breath deepens, his teeth digging into his bottom lip.
“You enjoy this”, Seunghyun breathes, and the revelation rocks through him, makes all these little moments over the last few weeks click into his head like a jigsaw. Jiyong’s eyes squeeze shut.
“I don’t - I -” He grits his teeth.
Seunghyun just smiles, unable not to. He tightens his grip, feels the bones shift, feels Jiyong’s pulse in his veins.
“Which part do you enjoy?”, he presses. “Pissing me off? Or have you been acting precious because I won’t just step in and stop you?”
Jiyong flushes red, all down his neck. He frees himself, shoves Seunghyun away, two handed. He doesn’t move far. Jiyong seems to notice too. Seunghyun hadn’t quite realised just how broad he’d gotten compared to Jiyong. Jiyong had, though, had put a hand on his bicep and made a soft noise of appreciation when he came back from filming. He’s so blind, he thinks, despairingly.
He shoves Jiyong back. His back hits the wall again, he gives Seunghyun a glare that falls short. Seunghyun presses his fingers to his sternum, holding him in place with no force at all. Jiyong’s just gazing at him, quiet again.
“Should I cancel your flights, Jiyong?”, he dares to ask. Jiyong’s gaze scatters, falls to where his laptop is on the bed, and then darts away like he’s made some mistake. He feels like they are on a cliff edge, a precipice. Jiyong is holding himself back, breath tight, jaw tight. Seunghyun feels an overwhelming desire to just push him.
“Say something”, Seunghyun breathes. “If you don’t say anything I’ll just do it. Is that what you want?”
Jiyong’s mouth works, he says nothing. Seunghyun watches him swallow, watches the way his eyelashes flutter.
“You don’t have my details”, he gets out, finally, barely a whisper. His eyes squeeze shut. Seunghyun suddenly just wants to kiss him senseless against the wall. But they have to sort this out, first.
“I don’t”, he agrees. His hands are shaking slightly when he puts them on Jiyong’s shoulders, when he grabs his wrist again. He tries to access all the confidence he uses for the stage when he says, lower; “Maybe I just won’t let you leave then”.
Jiyong groans at that, whimpers a little. The sound is unmistakable in its meaning. It makes Seunghyun’s pants tighten, leaves him with his throat dry.
“Look at me”, he says. Jiyong’s eyes open instantly, settle on him, gaze wide and pupils blown black. Seunghyun can’t help himself anymore.
When Seunghyun kisses him it’s not sweet, it’s not gentle; he wants to ravish him. He pushes Jiyong against the wall, takes his chin to tilt his face up and bring their lips together. The sound Jiyong makes is downright sinful. It makes Seunghyun press closer against him, even if there is nowhere for him to go, even if he is just pinning him harder against the wall. Jiyong is pushing back against him now, frantic, his free arm loops around Seunghyun’s neck. When he tries to move his other one Seunghyun squeezes his wrist tighter, slams it against the wall.
“Don’t”, he warns, pulls back slightly even as Jiyong chases his mouth. His gaze is half-lidded, dazed. His lips move to form words even before he is able to speak.
“Sorry”, he ends up getting out, and his eyes squeeze shut again, his flush high on his cheeks. God, he makes Seunghyun feel weak.
It’s fine, he almost says, almost lets go of Jiyong’s wrist to cup his cheeks and kiss him soft. But he doesn’t.
“Good”, he says instead, and watches how the word ripples through Jiyong, how it makes him shiver and makes his lips drop open. It sends a thrill through him, a stir of power running down his back.
He almost can’t believe he has Jiyong like this, for him. He should have seen this sooner, really.
He uses his grip on Jiyong’s wrist to spin them around, push Jiyong on the bed. He goes easy, not even a hint of resistance. Seunghyun crawls over him, Jiyong watching him wih huge eyes. He stops for a second, looks at the laptop on the bed. It’s open on a check-in page, not even completed. It makes him huff out a laugh.
“We don’t need this, do we”, he says, calm, closes the laptop and moves it away. Jiyong does not even glance at what he is doing, he just shakes his head. Seungyun just looks at him for a moment, takes him in, his flush, his dark pupils and bitten lips. He can’t resist bringing a hand to cup Jiyong’s cheek, thumb stroking under his eye softly. For a moment he is terrified, really, of what Jiyong is giving him in this moment. But Jiyong’s gaze is so open on him, so trusting. And Jiyong’s trust, his faith, his complete belief that Seunghyun can actually be everything he is in his eyes has always been the greatest gift he has ever received. If Jiyong wants this, if he trusts Seunghyun with it, then he will take care of it.
When they kiss again it’s softer this time, sweeter. Jiyong is pliant under him, mouth soft. Seunghyun’s hands trail down his front, slip under his shirt to caress his skin, slide from his ribcage to his waist. Like this he can feel how shaky Jiyong’s breath is, how he is trembling with each exhale. His thumbs brush Jiyong’s nipples, feel them perked already under his touch. Jiyong arches against him, moaning softly.
He sits him up, pulls his shirt up. Jiyong’s arms lift accommodatingly. He is so quiet, shirtless in Seunghyun’s lap, gazing at him with this empty look in his eyes. He’s usually pushy, he’s usually so combative. Seunghyun pushes his thumb into the curve of his chin, forces his lips to part softly. He’s such a sight that the idea anyone else could ever get to see him like this makes Seunghyun’s blood sing with protective possession. Jiyong is sat like he’s awaiting instruction, even as Seunghyun’s left hand strokes over the outline of his cock, achingly hard against the rough denim of jeans. Jiyong hisses, head arching back.
“Pretty boy”, Seunghyun drawls and he says it all the time, gets a smack on the arm and a flush, or a noise of embarrassment. The reaction here is different, Jiyong hiccups on something like a sob, hides his head in Seunghyun’s shoulder. “You could have asked, Jiyong, instead of being such a brat”. And even his name feels different on his tongue like this. His lips are right by his ear, Jiyong is trembling to the sound like it’s a caress. “Did you not want to? I suppose you’re getting your way now, aren’t you”.
Jiyong’s squirming against him, his breath ragged, his head hung. With a rush, Seunghyun realises he’s - he’s actually quite good at this. It’s enjoyable, it has sort of got the same thrill as acting, this little bubble where your words mean more, where every action has consequences and every feeling is heightened. He suddenly understands the game, sees Jiyong’s need so clearly. He pulls back, looks into Jiyong’s eyes, only because suddenly he’s not entirely sure if Jiyong knows how to call cut.
“You’re very quiet”. He tips his chin up. Jiyong’s still shaking slightly, his skin dewy, his eyes a little glassy. He’s so affected.
His mouth opens, closes, his eyes tip to the ceiling for a moment before his brows pull together in frustration. Seunghyun watches him physically cringe, this look of failure coming across his face. It might come easy to Seunghyun, but it doesn’t come easy to Jiyong. Jiyong is too much of a perfectionist to just let go, but he craves it, gives into it on stage even though he's so overly critical of himself afterwards. Seunghyun can’t give him enough time to think, he realises. He can’t bear the idea of making this feel like work for Jiyong, too. Suddenly he can’t even consider denying him a thing, far less make him beg for it.
“It’s alright”, he hushes, slips his index and middle finger into Jiyong’s mouth. The relief is palpable. Jiyong drops into the touch, his tongue curling around Seunghyun’s fingers. “I’ll take care of it, I’ll take care of you”.
Jiyong groans, the vibrations sending this pleasant tingle down Seunghyun’s hand. He looks so sweetly, unabashedly blissed at the words. He takes his hips, pats the skin softly.
“Strip”, he says.
Jiyong does it. He has to take Seunghyun’s hand when he stands, stumbles on his feet from the head rush before he shucks his jeans down, stands in front of Seunghyun naked. He puts a hand on Jiyong’s shoulders, guiding, and Jiyong sinks to his knees without protest. It takes him by surprise for a moment, he was going to pull Jiyong back onto his lap. He’s still fully dressed, his shoes are still on. They came back and instantly started to fight, he barely had time to take his coat off. Jiyong's cheek presses against his knee, his gaze on Seunghyun. He lowers himself until he’s on all fours. Seunghyun can see the sharp angles of his muscles, his shoulder blades, the ripple of his tattoo and the depth of his breath under his ribs. Jiyong brings his lips to the polished leather tip of Seunghyun’s shoe. It steals all his breath, nails digging into the mattress under his hands.
“Fuck”, he whispers, before he can help it. He has to grab himself through his trousers for a moment, hand on his crotch. If having Jiyong at all felt like a blessing, having him like this feels almost sacrilegious. He thinks of fumbling around with him when they were young and stupid and inexperienced and can’t believe this is where they are now.
Jiyong is rubbing his cheek against his thigh, now, and even that is getting him worked up, Seunghyun can tell, can see from the rise and fall of his chest. He wanted to hold him close but he looks so good like this, and he seems so lost in the movement, Seunghyun doesn’t want to snap him out of it. He cups Jiyong’s head, hand behind his skull, runs his fingers through his hair. It’s soft to touch, all the product he had in it melted with sweat. Jiyong looks up at him through his lashes, that half-lidded gaze of his. Waiting.
He was wrong earlier, Seunghyun realises. This does come natural to Jiyong too, just not with words.
“Take me out”, he says, can hear how low with arousal his voice has gotten. Jiyong’s fingers tremble slightly when they go to his belt, pull down the band of his underwear. Seunghyun looks at him, thinks of his rules. No oral, no marks. He told him he sounded hoarse but they have three days until their next date, maybe four. “Open your mouth”.
He mostly wants to see what Jiyong will say, really, but Jiyong doesn’t say anything. He just lets his lips fall open, wet with spit already. Seunghyun has to squeeze himself just once before guiding his cock to his mouth. It’s kind of pathetic how much he missed it but he doesn’t tell Jiyong that, just watches him as he takes him in slowly, eyes fluttering shut and flush high on his cheeks. Seunghyun lets him adjust for a moment, forces his hips to stay still before he cups Jiyong’s head again, slow. Jiyong shivers at the touch but doesn’t move.
“Jiyong”, Seunghyun mutters. Jiyong’s eyes snap open, look up at him. There is drool down his lips already. He thinks of phrasing what he is going to say as a question but decides against it at the last moment. “You will tell me if I am hurting you”, he ends up saying, firm, and Jiyong hums softly, eyes closing again. The sound of it goes straight to Seunghyun’s cock. Slowly he starts pushing Jiyong’s head down, starts sliding further down his throat.
It’s not that Jiyong is not good at this, really, it’s that he has no patience. He can tease and lick and kiss at Seunghyun for ages, can suck him into his mouth and make it feel like heaven but they have never done this. Jiyong had glared at him the one time his hips had snapped up too fast and Seunghyun had kept himself in check since. But Jiyong is not glaring now, his eyes closed and bliss on his face. If he doesn’t want to talk, that’s fine. He can use his mouth in other ways.
He takes it slow, hand soft in Jiyong’s hair. He really doesn’t want to make him choke, mostly because he doesn’t know how long this spell can last, is not sure how Jiyong would react to being shocked out of it. He gets embarrassed easily, Seunghyun thinks, and given that he’s not asked for this outright, he guesses this is something fragile for Jiyong. Seunghyun has always wondered if Jiyong had thoughts like this, he always wondered what fantasy would look like to someone who made all their dreams come true so willfully. He feels sort of blind for not seeing how obviously Jiyong craved surrender, how impossible it must have felt for him.
Jiyong lets him slide down his throat, pull back all the way to drag the head of his cock shallowly between his lips. Seunghyun’s grip on his hair keeps his head tilted up, their eyes locked. The rhythm he sets is not at all punishingly fast, but he’s surprised Jiyong allows it. He sinks deep into his throat, fucks his mouth like Jiyong can feel it, takes his time like he’s opening him up. Jiyong’s fingers are twitching on the carpet, his thighs tense. Seunghyun can see how hard he is, how desperate he must be. He watches Jiyong’s hand, the moment it moves he puts his foot on it. Jiyong lets out a cry, it makes Seunghyun’s cock drop out from his lips.
“Sorry”, Jiyong manages, and it sounds like he hasn’t spoken in hours, his voice cracks across the word, falls into a whisper.
“Not till I say”, Seunghyun says like a promise. Jiyong’s staring at him with this soft, guileless look in his eyes. When he nods, it makes something painfully protective well in Seunghyun’s chest. Jiyong doesn’t make a noise of complaint when Seunghyun continues to slide down his throat, settling on his tongue while Jiyong sucks softly and catches his breath. He’s been dreaming about taking his time with Jiyong for months, but the reality of it is almost impossible. Jiyong is usually the pushy one, demanding and stretched for time, too sensitive to last. But it’s Jiyong who is making no attempt to speed this up, so Seunghyun has to hold out for him.
He’s not entirely sure how much time passes, enough that he can see that Jiyong’s knees are red, that he’s broken out in goosebumps from the cold. When he lifts his foot, Jiyong lets out a sweet sound of relief and rolls his wrist. Seunghyun takes his hand, brings it up to his mouth to kiss it better. Jiyong moans, soft.
“You’ve been so good”, Seunghyun murmurs into his skin.
Jiyong's breath stutters, his eyes screwing shut, his whole body trembling against the compliment. Seunghyun runs his fingers through his hair, watches Jiyong nuzzle into his touch like a puppy.
“Oh, sweetheart”, he breathes. What would complete surrender mean to someone like Jiyong, he wonders. He thinks he has an idea. “It’s hard, mhh? To be on top of everything all the time”. Jiyong looks up at hime, gaze wide. Seunghyun can see the way his cheeks are reddening, can see the shame crawling across his face. “No, shh, shh. Don’t worry. I know it is. You don’t have to say no. Come here”, he hushes him, pats his lap. “Come here”.
Jiyong is still flushed when he brings himself to standing, sits all naked and trembling on Seunghyun’s lap. Even if he is shaking his movements are still so fluid, so alluring. Seunghyun can’t get enough of him. He caresses down his torso, his arms, strokes at his clavicle. Jiyong’s arms wrap around him, loose. Seunghyun hugs him close, hands on his back and mouthing down his neck. He feels so small, on top of him like this; even smaller now that he is naked and Seunghyun is still clothed. It’s an enticing sight, he won’t lie. There is something sort of obscene about it.
Jiyong is squirming above him, now, his cock is leaking against Seunghyun’s jumper, his fingers twisting the fabric on his back. Seunghyun kisses his neck, his jaw, tests his luck again when he starts sucking at the skin of his collarbon and finds no resistance. Jiyong just groans, his hands finding his hair, pulling slightly. His head tips back, his lips dropped open.
“Lie back”, Seunghyun nudges him gently, rolls over him on the bed. Jiyong is watching him, propped on his elbows, eyes only for him. Having Jiyong’s attention like this is heady, it always has been but right now it feels like some kind of power Seunghyun has somehow managed to harness. He is undeserving of it, really, but he can’t resist kissing Jiyong deep when he crawls back above him, tastes himself on his tongue. Jiyong is pliant under him, lets him fuck his tongue into his mouth, grab his chin to direct the kiss.
“I am sorry”, Jiyong breathes against his lips when he pulls back slightly. His voice is still hoarse and shaky. “I know I was - I wanted - I want -”
Seunghyun grips his chin tighter, fingers digging into his cheeks. Jiyong groans softly, eyes squeezing shut.
“I didn’t ask you to apologise”, he says. “So don’t”. He shakes Jiyong’s head lightly, enough that Jiyong flushes with embarrassment at being handled like that. “Alright?”
He lets Jiyong go, watches him work his jaw slightly.
“I - I just -”
“Yes or no, Jiyong”.
Jiyong stares at him. “Alright”, he whispers.
His relief looks full of pleasure, he sighs into the sheets. It’s the same type of sigh, the same soft smile he gives Seunghyun in the studio sometimes, like he’s just so grateful someone else gets it. Seunghyun gets it, Seunghyun can always pick up on what Jiyong is putting down. Maybe Jiyong sees this like writing a song; unspoken chemistry and unfolding ideas.
“Turn over”, he murmurs. He puts a hand on the hem of his jumper, begins to pull but Jiyong puts a hand on his wrist and shakes his head softly.
“Could you -”, he murmurs, and he sounds so sweetly polite it makes something in Seunghyun melt. “I like how it feels”.
Seunghyun wonders how it does feel; denim and cotton harsh on Jiyong’s soft skin, pressed between the linen and Seunghyun. He wants to fuck him so slow he whimpers, and press himself so close he leaves indents on Jiyong’s skin, buttons and belt marks from being held too close.
Jiyong turns over, back arched and hands under the pillow, his face hidden. Seunghyun curls his hand into the softer hairs at the bottom of his neck. Jiyong shudders, makes an aching noise. Seunghyun realises he’s not touched him once and still Jiyong is leaking onto the sheets, hips raised so he doesn’t grind down. Seunghyun brings his hand to the curve of his hip, skims his fingers over the bone. Jiyong practically sobs.
“Good”, he whispers into his hair. “You’re being so good”.
Jiyong’s shoulders tense up, his breath caught. Seunghyun can feel him twitch with need. He strokes the inside of his thigh.
“You’re not even going to ask, are you?”, Seunghyun says, lips brushing the skin of his shoulder. “I could fuck you now”. He strokes the curve of Jiyong’s ass. “And leave you hard and aching, and you wouldn’t say a thing. Maybe I’d fuck you again, later, while you were still open and wet, maybe then -”
Jiyong makes a pained sound into the pillow, shoulders coming to his ears, his whole body reacting to the words.
He moves back, all at once, and watches the way Jiyong’s body goes limp. Seunghyun knows they have lube, he just can’t quite remember where, or who has it. The idea of having to ask and pull Jiyong back to here and now makes his blood run cold a little. But it’s sat, innocently, right at the top of Jiyong’s suitcase, placed on top of all his folded clothes. Seunghyun would laugh, if he wasn’t so horribly turned on by it.
“I won’t do that to you though, Jiyong”, he promises, strokes his knuckles from the top of his shoulders to the bottom of his spine. “I said I would take care of you”. He slides a slick finger inside him. Jiyong’s fingers claw into the pillow, his head tossing. “You don’t have to worry about a thing. You just lie there and take it. You’ve been working so hard, and you’ve been so good. That’s all you wanted to hear right?”, he says, low and soft by his ear.
Jiyong whines, nods franticallly, legs spreading. Seunghyun curls his fingers inside him, moves it slow, doesn’t add a second until Jiyong is practically shaking with need. He doesn’t even know how long it has passed since they started this, doesn’t even know if Jiyong has already lost his flight.
He looks at him, fucking back on Seunghyun’s fingers, barely two knuckles deep. Seunghyun can’t imagine him anywhere else but here, now.
“It’s good you are here with me”, he says, fucks into Jiyong deeper, grabs his hip to keep him from rolling against the sheets. “Would you be acting act up with anyone else right now, if you hadn’t stayed?”
Even the hypothetical makes him heathed with jealousy. The idea of anyone else trying to calm Jiyong down from whatever mood he was in earlier. They wouldn’t know what to do, he thinks. They wouldn’t have a clue.
Jiyong is shaking his head, shoulders trembling, lip bitten. Seunghyun drapes over him, adds a third finger and relishes in the groan Jiyong gives him, in the way he flutters around his fingers, sucking him in.
“Next time you’ll tell me”, he breathes, his lips by Jiyong’s ear. “Won’t you? I always want to give you what you want, Jiyong. Always”. He sucks Jiyong’s lobe into his mouth, hears him keening under him. “So you’ll tell me next time”.
Jiyong nods, frantic, his head twisting.
“Yes -”, he is babbling, “yes, yes, can you - please, can you kiss me, I want -”
Seunghyun can never deny him anything. He holds Jiyong up against his chest, an arm around him and fingers still inside him. Jiyong is twisting, straining, he grabs Seunghyun’s head to reach him better. There is a frantic energy in his movements, still. Seunghyun will have to fix that.
He brings their mouths together, kisses Jiyong deep and slow. His free hand moves down his front, never touching his cock, just caressing his torso, his waist, stroking over a nipple. He hushes Jiyong softly when he tries to speed up the kiss, when he tries to get his fingers deeper inside him.
“Shh, Jiyong. Slow”, he breathes against Jiyong’s lips, swipes his sweat-matted hair away from his forehead and presses a kiss there too, hugs him closer. He can feel how Jiyong’s ribcage is expanding with each trembling breath. “Let me, alright? Let me give you what you need”.
He rocks his fingers deeper inside Jiyong. He has half a mind to make him come like this but he is too hard, he needs him too much, no matter how slow he wants to take this. With every thrust of his fingers he can feel Jiyong going limper against him, like it’s all just too much for him to handle, until Seunghyun is the only thing keeping him up.
“Please”, Jiyong croaks, his head falling back against Seunghyun’s shoulders, throat exposed. Seunghyun can’t resist sliding his hand around his neck, the phantom of a touch. Jiyong swallows and pants against him, dripping with sweat. “Please”.
He strokes the soft skin under his jaw. There is something so vulnerable, and so raw about it, about how still Jiyong has gone, breath held and eyes closed. Seunghyun thinks about all the ways he could take this, this fresh and fragile thing between them. He could press down harder, make Jiyong fight to breath. He could have made him choke earlier but the idea feels too close to taking advantage. Jiyong already allows too much of himself to be given away, pieces of himself he lets go readily to labels and fans, to anyone who needs his time.
He’s voracious in his pursuit of perfection, at the expense of himself. Jiyong so perfectly followed all the rules, played the game and Seunghyun could see in his eyes that at some point he expected some weight would come off his shoulders. It hasn’t, if anything it’s gotten heavier.
“Anything for you”, Seunghyun murmurs, kisses at his jaw. He loosens his grip and Jiyong falls onto the sheets, hair matted and arms limp. He makes a noise when Seunghyun pulls out his fingers. He takes him in, the arch of his spine, his supple legs. He’s such a sight. Having him like this feels like catching a firefly, having all this light just in the palm of his hand. Seunghyun slicks himself up, presses close.
Jiyong’s breath hitches, he pushes a little onto his elbows, head bowed. Seunghyun takes himself in hand, grabs Jiyong’s hips with the other to hold him still, guides his cock inside him. He slides inside him slow, makes him feel it, all wet and open but still so tight. Jiyong’s shoulder blades tremble, his mouth dropping open.
Seunghyun sinks his weight across as he pushes deeper, his front to Jiyong’s back, his lips to Jiyong’s ear. He can hear more than feel the way his clothes are scraping across Jiyong’s soft skin. He doesn’t think much about the words he’s saying, he’s too lost in the sensation, the heat of Jiyong around him, how he can just settle inside him.
“You’ve been so brave”, Seunghyun whispers. “So strong. You take on so much, and you do so well. Of course you need a break. You deserve so much. I’m going to show you, alright? I’ll show you just how much you deserve”.
“God”, Jiyong gasps, he sniffs in wetly. His jaw is trembling, his hips pushing back just a little against Seunghyun. The noises he’s making are louder now, like he can’t quite help them, like they are forced out of him now they are pressed so close, now he’s so full up. Seunghyun tilts his head a little, their eyes meeting.
Jiyong’s crying, they’re trailing over his flushed cheeks, smudging makeup that was still caught in his waterline. His eyes look glazed, he takes a long blink before he smiles, this soft and bashful thing. It’s a miracle he hasn’t tried to refute any of those words yet, hasn’t huffed and shrugged off the praise like he usually would.
“Sorry -”, Jiyong begins, his words slightly. His brows pull together like he’s working something out. “Sorry. I am not sad. I just - I -”
Seunghyun kisses his cheeks. “I know. I know, Jiyong”.
He rocks into him, fucks him in steady slow motions. Jiyong’s eyes roll a little, his lashes fluttering. Jiyong’s hands curl around the edge of the pillow, rest above his head. Seunghyun reaches out, wraps his hand around both Jiyong’s wrists. He can hold them both in the span of his palm, grip them comfortably. Jiyong moan sounds like a weep, he flexes against the grip Seunghyun has on him. Seunghyun doesn’t allow him any give. It makes Jiyong tighten around his cock, makes his breath stutter out his throat in little hiccups.
“Fuck”, Jiyong gasps under him, tries to push back against him and can’t. “Fuck, you feel - I feel - oh -”
Seunghyun nuzzles his neck, kisses the skin behind his ear. His free hand goes to Jiyong’s hip, tilts his pelvis slightly so he can fuck him deeper. Jiyong has never been quiet in bed but now his moans sound even louder than usual, these little teary whimpers that leave Seunghyun so horribly turned on. No one gets to hear Jiyong like this, he thinks, he is the only one. Jiyong can give his voice to the entire world, get on stage for everyone to see but this, this is for Seunghyun only.
“You are so beautiful”, Seunghyun gasps behind him, his grip on his wrists tightening. “Fuck, Jiyong, you are so perfect. So perfect for this. I should never let you go, should keep you in bed all day, you wouldn’t have to do a thing but be ready for me to slide inside you -”
Jiyong groans louder at that, he tightens around Seunghyun so much it’s almost painful, trembles under him. The air around them is heathed, molten, the fabric of his clothes is getting soaked with sweat, his own and Jiyong’s. Seunghyun presses closer until Jiyong is gasping for breath, crushed between him and the mattress. He cannot move at all like this. Seunghyun rolls his hips slow, barely moving, his denim trousers scraping against Jiyong’s skin.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”, he asks, breathless, lets more of his weight sink down on Jiyong. If he wasn’t so close to coming he’d stop moving his hips completely, just keep Jiyong warm and full under him. “It’s alright, you can tell me”.
“Yes”, Jiyong sobs underneath him, his head twisted slightly. Seunghyun drags his lips across his cheek, kisses his tears away. “Yes, yes, please -”
Jiyong is squirming under his weight again, even if there is nowhere for him to go. He must be aching, with only the bedsheets to rut against. Seunghyun lifts slightly, just enough to tilt Jiyong’s hips up, slide a hand under him and grab his cock. Jiyong jerks into his hand immediately, his moans so loud, forehead pressed against the pillow, into the small pool of drool he has left behind. He is trembling so hard it’s impossible to keep him still.
“I love you so much”, Seunghyun whispers into his ear, keeps his grip lax on him as Jiyong’s hips twitch. He is so hot and leaking, Seunghyun can’t believe he has not come yet. Unless he is waiting, Seunghyun thinks, and the thought makes his head spin so hard he has to stop for a second, teeth gritted and forehead pressed to Jiyong’s back. “You can come, Jiyong. You have been so good, you have been perfect”.
Jiyong moans at that, his hands flex above his head, his body arching under him to fuck back against him and then into his hand. He is leaking so much there is barely any friction. Seunghyun fucks into him deeper, harder.
“I love you”, he says again, and Jiyong hiccups one last time before he is coming, his whole body tensing up and shaking. Seunghyun’s arm wraps around him, holds him close as he trembles through it, eyes rolling back. It seems to last forever, nothing like what it has been like during this tour, Jiyong climbing over him and taking what he wanted hard and fast, orgasms quick and not enough. Seunghyun mouths at Jiyong’s back, kisses his nape softly until his trembling has subsided a little, until he is limp and panting under him, quivering with each breath still.
Seunghyun slows, rests inside him for a moment but Jiyong rocks back against him, pushes slightly. It makes Seunghyun smile a little, this warmth throughout him. Jiyong’s boneless underneath him, his breath even and deep but his eyes still open, looking over his shoulder at Seunghyun. He keeps fucking into him slow, Jiyong doesn’t rise to meet his hips this time, just takes it with soft and sweet, whispery moans. He tries to think of a time Jiyong ever allowed this; let him stay inside this long and fuck him while twitching and oversensitive. Jiyong can be distant after sex, especially when he’s stressed. He sees it as time lost, wasted. Or he told himself he did, at least. Looking at him now, Seunghyun is less sure.
It’s molten hot between them, Jiyong’s quieter now, but still responsive, Seunghyun tries to draw this out but he feels just as overwhelmed as Jiyong. He presses him down, listens to the soft little cry Jiyong lets out, and finally allows himself to speed up. He draws Jiyong as close as he can, arms around his chest, head buried in his neck. Jiyong’s hand is curling around the sheets, clawed, as he pants Seunghyun’s name like a prayer. There is the softest smile at the side of his lips Seunghyun can’t help but kiss. He looks so beautifully at ease, so utterly complete. Seunghyun feels it too. Feels like there is nothing in the world that could interrupt this, take this away from them.
He presses their hips tight together as he comes. Jiyong makes a pleased little noise at the feeling. Seunghyun doesn’t know if he’ll ever recover from this. The orgasm is blinding, takes him by surprise in its intensity, at how it feels like it’s been building for days. It takes all his strength not to collapse onto Jiyong but as he slips out he has the presence of mind to settle at his side.
Jiyong is gazing at him, something like devotion in his eyes. It makes Seunghyun tremble again. He had sort of imagined this would end with their orgasms, that Jiyong would snap out of it. Instead, when Seunghyun strokes his cheek, Jiyong lips drop open again, awaiting. Seunghyun slips his fingers inside his mouth, letting Jiyong lap at the sweat on the rough pads of his fingers. His eyes fall shut, brows drawing together.
“I think you might miss your flight”, he tells him slowly, soft. Jiyong just nods, reaches out his arms to pull Seunghyun closer.
Ever so slowly Jiyong shifts, looks up at him from where he’s rested his head on his chest. “Should I… I don’t know - should I tell someone?”
Seunghyun strokes his hair back with the tips of his fingers. “Have you never cancelled a meeting?”, he asks, low and soft, completely incredulous.
Jiyong shakes his head, soft, looks at him with tears still drying on his lash line.
If he doesn’t, someone will definitely come to look for him. It’s a miracle it has not happened yet. He leans over, grabs Jiyong’s laptop and rests it on his chest.
“Let me”, he says. Jiyong just nods, rubs his cheek against Seunghyun’s shoulder like a pleased cat.
He doesn’t bother to write to everyone personally - just Hyunsuk, Teddy. He wonders if they’ll realise it’s his writing, not Jiyong’s. Maybe he’ll get a scolding for it. It would be worth it, he thinks, if it meant taking the heat off Jiyong. He feels a pang of guilt at his own carelessness when not showing up to meetings. It probably falls on Jiyong to make up for him. Which he knew, to an extent, he just had not quite realised how much Jiyong needed a break from all of this.
He emails Jiyong’s manager to handle the rest. It’s why they have people like that, after all, and he wants to give his attention to Jiyong instead. He puts the laptop away, looks to his side where Jiyong is still pressed up against him, an arm around his chest and face mushed into his shoulder. Seunghyun puts an arm around him, trails fingers down his back.
“Hey”, he says, quietly. Jiyong looks up at him, eyes red-rimmed. “Are you - was that -”
He can feel Jiyong tensing immediately next to him. He doesn’t want that. He strokes Jiyong’s hair back, presses a kiss to his forehead.
“You know you can tell me about this stuff, right?”, he asks, soft. Jiyong nods against him.
“Yeah”, he croaks out. “Yeah, I know. I just - it’s just - it’s just a lot”, he ends up saying, exhausted, eyes fluttering shut. “It’s a lot”.
Seunghyun more so meant they could talk about the sex but this is the root of it, he realises, it’s why Jiyong wanted this in the first place.
“I know it affects you. I am sorry I didn’t see earlier how much you were struggling”.
“It’s embarrassing”, Jiyong mumbles. “It’s my job. I am lucky. I shouldn’t - I can’t -”
Seunghyun can’t help the smile spreading across his face. “It’s alright to be human, Jiyong”.
Jiyong huffs, is silent for a bit.
“It doesn’t feel like that sometimes”, he says quietly in the end.
Seunghyun looks down at him, shifts slightly so he can hold Jiyong’s cheek in his palm. His eyes are closed, his lips bitten red and trembling lightly. He looks like he might cry. Maybe he wants to.
“You can be human with me”, Seunghyun tells him, soft.
When they kiss this time it’s soft, sweet. There is none of the franticness Jiyong was itching with earlier, none of the firmness Seunghyun wanted to give him. He strokes Jiyong’s cheekbone with his thumb, feels him warm against him, his skin like silk. Suddenly he wants to feel that skin against his own, needs their bodies pressed together even closer.
He districates slightly, just enough to pull his jumper over his head, shuck off his jeans. Jiyong is watching him, eyes glittering. He laughs when Seunghyun kicks the sheets down, wraps tight around Jiyong.
“What are you doing? I don’t think I can go again”, he smiles. Seunghyun just holds him closer.
“Just wanted to feel you against me”, he says. When his hand travels down Jiyong’s body he can feel the marks his clothes have left behind, see the redness of his skin where his belt was pressed too harshly. “Why did you want me to stay dressed?”
Jiyong flushes immediately, evades eye contact but doesn’t tense up. Progress, Seunghyun thinks.
“I don’t know. I just -” He struggles with the words. “I just like how it feels. How it looks. Like I am just there for you”.
“It was really hot”, Seunghyun smiles. That seems to make Jiyong relax a little more, he smiles. “I like how it looks too”.
Jiyong squirms a little, moves away to throws on a t-shirt. Seunghyun notices he’s still trembling a little, like he does when he comes off stage. He looks at Seunghyun, then looks away.
“Sorry I couldn’t like -” He rolls his eyes a little. “Talk. I - like - I don’t know, I wanted to. Everytime I thought about trying something like this I sort of cringed myself out of it”, Jiyong squeezes his eyes shut.
“So you just orchestrated it instead?”, Seunghyun grins, kisses the tip of Jiyong’s nose.
“No” , Jiyong says immediately, pouts. “Maybe. But I wasn’t sure you’d - I didn’t know how it would play out. Like there were all these moments where I thought you wanted it, too. Or - I don’t know - maybe not something as weird as that but I could tell. Or I liked how it felt when you told me off. Weird, I know”.
“It wasn’t weird”, Seunghyun promises.
“You were really good at it!”, Jiyong says and somehow makes it sound like some accusation. His shoulders drop a little, his head bowing. “It was amazing. I’ve never - allowed myself anything like that, I don’t think”.
“What do you mean?”, Seunghyun asks, draws circles on Jiyong’s shoulder.
“I don’t know”. Jiyong bites his nail. Seunghyun takes his hand away from his mouth. “To feel like nothing matters”.
“How do you feel now?”
Jiyong makes a face. “Kind of like I’m still drunk but have a hangover?”
Seunghyun laughs, soft. Jiyong does too.
“I don’t know. Sort of out my body”, he says slowly and then, so softly, like it’s a sin. “I really didn’t want to travel. Is that bad?”
“No”, Seunghyun promises. He strokes JIyong’s cheek, kisses his forehead. “I like taking care of you, Jiyong”.
It makes Jiyong’s breath stutter. Maybe it’s the implication of all that means now, or maybe it’s just relief. Jiyong sits up, only to hug him close. For a moment it feels perfectly tranquil, but Seunghyun should have known it wasn’t viable. There is a harsh knock at the door. And Jiyong’s phone has so many missed calls.
He pulls back and looks at Seunghyun, startled, before he slinks out of bed, pulls on clothes. Seunghyun has to steady his arm as he pulls on a pair of sweats. Seunghyun stays in bed, listens to the conversation from the door.
It’s mostly concern, there are a few voices, all offering Jiyong paracetamol and flights in the morning that he could probably still make. Jiyong sounds unbearably miserable when he says, soft and frail;
“I think I am too sick”.
There is a collective decision, made sort of without Jiyong saying a word, that maybe he should not go back to Korea between shows. Their door is closed, and JIyong bounds back into the bed with glittering eyes.
“I could be an actor I think, no?” He cocks his head.
Seunghyun nods, pulls him onto his lap to stroke his back, reward him with a kiss. But Jiyong’s gaze falls to his phone, his eyes losing the joy in them. It’s Hyunsuk and really, Seunghyun wants to beg Jiyong not to answer but he does, slides out of bed again to pace like a caged animal as they talk.
Jiyong is mostly just agreeing. Seunghyun can’t hear the details. His brows pull together, his nose scrunching.
“It’s nothing I can’t catch up on”, he says in a rush of a promise and then, with a huff of laugh and smile that twitches. “I can just work harder”.
He can’t tell what’s being said on the other line but Jiyong nods, eyes squeezing shut.
“Yeah. Yeah, I know. I will”. A pause again. “Alright. Bye”.
Jiyong ends the call, exhales loudly, fingers rubbing at his temples. Seunghyun reaches over to where Jiyong is standing next to the bed, puts an arm around his middle, his forehead to his back. Jiyong’s breath has gone a bit uneven again, he can feel it from how his hand is splayed on his stomach.
“Come back to bed”, he murmurs, pulls him gently. Jiyong goes, pliant. Seunghyun barely manages to hold him close again before he feels Jiyong’s shoulders shaking softly.
“Hey”, he says, alarmed, pulls back slightly. “Jiyong, are you alright? What did he say? He wasn’t - I can call him for you, if you want, I can -”
“No”, Jiyong gets out against him, hides his face in the crook of Seunghyun’s neck when he hugs him close. “No, it’s fine, it’s okay - sorry, I don’t -”
“Was he angry?”
Honestly, Seungnhyun is not above calling the man and telling him a word or two. Jiyong is his golden goose, he deserves the rest. He deserves to do whatever the fuck he wants, to be honest.
“He wasn’t”, Jiyong sniffs. Seunghyun’s skin is damp where Jiyong is pressed against it. “He just said to take care, in the end”. He chuckles, a bit wetly, tries to pull away but Seunghyun doesn’t let him. “Fuck, I don’t even know why I am crying”.
His shivers are not really coming from his tears, now, but his skin is breaking out in goosebumps. Seunghyun brings them both under the covers, pulls them up until they are hidden completely from sight. Jiyong gives him a quivering smile.
“Are you five years old?”
Seunghyun shrugs, wipes Jiyong’s tears away from his cheeks with his knuckles.
“Sometimes it’s nice to hide away”.
Jiyong chuckles again, even if he is still crying.
“Sorry, I don’t know - I don’t really know -” He breathes in, shakily. “I just feel - I felt so - so safe, you know? With you. I wasn’t thinking of anything, I wasn’t even thinking about the flight. I -” He swallows, eyes fluttering shut. “I think I would have liked for that to last - longer. Just a little bit more”. He smiles, bitter. “I never not think of something”.
“I know you don’t”, Seunghyun tells him, soft, rubs his temples where he knows Jiyong will be getting a headache from the crying. “We’ll turn all phones off next time. Throw them away and triple lock the door”.
“Next time?”, Jiyong murmurs, and Seunghyun smiles at the hope he can hear in his voice.
“Next time”, he confirms, kisses the top of his head. “If you want”.
He can see Jiyong’s cheeks flushing red. It’s so endearing he is struggling not to smile like a fool. Only Jiyong would drop to kiss his shoe, let him fuck his throat like that, let him fuck him into the matress and then later get shy at the idea of possibly doing something similar again.
He can’t help but ask, because he really has to know; “Was it how you imagined?”
JIyong smiles, secret and soft. “More than what I expected. When you held my neck a few days ago I thought my legs were gonna give out”.
Seunghyun grins. “I thought you were mad at me, honestly”.
Jiyong looks up at him with huge, soft eyes. “I’m never mad at you”.
Seunghyun snorts, slightly incredulous. JIyong squeezes his eyes closed, breathes out his nose.
“I kept thinking about all these little moments where you took control, or touched me like that”, Jiyong admits, soft and shy. “Even when we were in bed together”.
“Congratulations”, Seunghyun purrs. “You’ve made me jealous of myself”.
He nuzzles their noses together, makes Jiyong laugh and kick his feet slightly. It strikes him how long it’s been since he’s heard Jiyong laugh like that; free and so young sounding.
“Shut up”, Jiyong giggles.
“No, it’s okay”, Seunghyun sighs. “You prefer suave, mean me”.
Jiyong makes a face, holds up his finger. “You are always suave, and you are quite hot mean”.
“Oh, Jiyong”. He pulls him close, squeezes him tight. “You are too sweet tonight”.
He breathes him in deep, tucks his head into Jiyong’s neck. He pulls back only to place Jiyong against the sheets, pulling the covers to his chin. Jiyong’s glare does nothing when he’s tucked in like this, if anything it makes Seunghyun want to suck his cheek. Jiyong makes him giddy sometimes, especially when he pouts.
“You have to look after me”, Jiyong demands. “I am sick”.
Seunghyun takes the words very seriously. He’s wanted to look after Jiyong for weeks on end. He tries not to consider that Jiyong’s fantasies involved Seunghyun making him deep throat him with a fist in his hair, and Seunghyun’s fantasies were about keeping Jiyong in one place long enough to have dinner and fuck, and maybe share a bath.
He orders them room service, and manages to convince Jiyong to get up for a shower, even if it earns him a sleepy looking pout. He keeps him against his chest the whole time, slides soapy wet hands down Jiyong’s body with no intention at all and can tell Jiyong doesn’t have any either, that he is simply enjoying the touch, the intimacy. His eyes are closed under the stream and his legs are still weak. They end up back in bed immediately after, Jiyong soft and naked and smelling like all his expensive products that he uses instead of complementary hotel bottles.
“I think this is the first time in weeks that I have washed my hair just to enjoy it and not left it until just before we have to go on stage, when they style it for us”, Jiyong slurs later in bed, eyes falling close.
“I’ll wash your hair after every show if you let me”, Seunghyun smiles, kisses his temple. Jiyong chuckles, snuggled next to him.
“Careful. I am gonna take this seriously. Start bossing you around”.
“As if you didn’t do that already”, Seunghyun snorts. But it doesn’t matter, really. He likes it. Especially if he can take care of Jiyong this way. “And I thought you wanted me to boss you around now”.
Jiyong’s nose scrunches up.
“You can do that in very limited situations -”
“Alright”, Seunghyun laughs. “Can I boss you to sleep now then?”
“Mhh”, Jiyong hums, eyes already close and eyelids heavy, breath deep. He pats Seunghyun’s arm where it hugs him close. “I guess you can”.
Seunghyun smiles. He watches Jiyong until his breath gets deeper, heavier, until his chest is rising and falling too regularly for him to be anything else other than asleep.
This is temporary, really, he knows. He won’t always be able to placate Jiyong with a good fucking, with the promise he’ll be there to take care of him. But if this is what Jiyong needs now to rest, he’ll keep giving it to him until that doesn’t work anymore.