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Chan didn’t expect to kiss one of his members when he woke up today. He especially didn’t expect to kiss Jeongin. But whoever had the brilliant idea to play the pepero-game with fucking rice crackers instead basically set all of them up to kiss.
If his partner would’ve at least been Jisung or Minho, who are both so in love with each other they would’ve rather lost the game than risk kissing anyone but each other. Really, any member other than Jeongin would’ve been fine.
Not because he doesn’t like their youngest, no, quite the opposite actually. And he already feels fucking guilty about crushing on someone he’s known since he was fifteen. Jeongin shouldn’t be attractive to him, should’ve always stayed his adorable maknae. But something changed in the last few years. Somewhere between Jeongin losing his braces and gaining a lot more muscles than they ever thought he would. Mischievous fox eyes turning seductive and that fucking solo song. Chan had been haunted by Jeongin in a skirt, singing about hallucination and euphoria.
So when the MCs announce that they’re paired up, he considers faking being sick and running from the stage. But he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. He stays right where he is, clenches his hands into fists and wills his brain to stop being stupidly excited.
It’s going to be fine. Surely it’s going to be fine. He played all kinds of weird games with his members today. And even if they get up close and personal, it’s not like that’s uncommon. They cuddle and they hug and they play fight. Just that Chan has avoided all of that with Jeongin since his infatuation began. There’s no more chance to avoid it today though.
When Changbin’s and Hyunjin’s lips actually touch during the first round, Chan swallows harshly, trying to pretend his heart didn’t just drop down into his pants.
If it happened to them, it can happen to Jeongin and him too. He has to prevent that. He has to be the one that takes the lead, that eats that god forsaken cracker.
So when it’s their turn, he steps in front of Jeongin, smiling up at him. Every time he has to tilt his head up to be able to lock eyes with their maknae, a rush of heat shoots through Chan. When did he grow so tall? And why is that so fucking hot? And why does he have to smirk down at him?
“You hold it, hyung. I’m kinda hungry anyway,” he grins. Somehow he managed to already get the cracker, pushing it against Chan’s lips now. And like the lovesick idiot he is, Chan obediently parts them and lets Jeongin put the dry snack in his mouth.
There’s a determined glint in Jeongin’s eyes, focus in the way he stares down at Chan’s lips.
This is not going to end well.
He keeps his hands behind his back, clutching his left wrist. Maybe if he digs his nails hard enough into the soft skin there, he can distract his mind from how fast his heart is beating already.
When the MCs give the signal to start, Jeongin leans in and takes the first bite. He’s so close, his lashes fanning onto his cheeks, his head slightly tilting so their noses won’t collide, his breath hitting Chan’s skin.
He closes his eyes on reflex, presses them shut tightly and prays to every entity out there that he won’t get hard on stage. Or lose his last functioning brain cells and actually lean forward to kiss Jeongin.
It physically hurts to hold back, to not give into the temptation. He’s sure that it must show on camera that he’s literally trembling, his traitorous brain conjuring up images of Jeongin’s fox eyes, of his light brown hair fanning softly out under him, of his breathy voice asking, moaning, begging for his hyung.
And then it happens. Something touches his lips. Something soft and warm and delicious. It’s not just grazing, like what happened with Changbin and Hyunjin. A pair of plush lips, covered in chapstick, press against his own. They’re slightly open, biting down on the last bit of cracker and accepting the price for that. The price of kissing his own member and friend in return.
It’s not more than half a second. But it’s enough to make the remaining bit of blood circulating his body rush toward his groin, leaving him light-headed and half-hard. It’s enough to make his breath hitch and his thoughts come to a full stop. His brain slams down on the emergency brake, halting all activity.
They kissed. Jeongin kissed him. On the mouth. With his lips. While they are on stage, the hall filled with Stays and about a million cameras directed at them.
“This is never going to make the final cut.” Is his first thought. “I can die happy now.” Is the second.
The MC’s loud yell that the game is over gets him out of his trance-like state. Chan finally opens his eyes, taking a step back before he does so, just to make sure there’ll be some distance between him and Jeongin and strangely, there is no more rice cracker in his field of vision. It’s completely gone apart from the tiny, tiny piece that he still holds between his teeth. He spits it into the MC’s open hand, forcing a grin while his stomach is doing somersaults.
Chan does not look at Jeongin while they measure the piece. He does not look at Jeongin while the younger flings himself into Chan’s arms, yelling in victory. He does not look at Jeongin at all anymore, not while they’re still up on stage in that stupid show.
He ignores his members screaming about the kiss, laughing and making fun of them and concentrates solely on doing his job of playing along, being a professional.
What’s going on inside of him is a different story.
There’s a storm, a tornado raging through him. Something he doesn’t even let himself dream about happened today and a door he tried desperately to keep locked has been opened, bombarding him with unwelcome thoughts of Jeongin.
His pretty fox eyes turning into crescent moons when he smiles down at Chan, his long fingers wrapped around a mic, his lips parting, moaning obscenely when he bites into a particularly juicy piece of meat. Jeongin stretched long on the couch, shirt riding up, revealing a sliver of his toned stomach, hair disheveled, tears running down his cheeks as he peers up at him, begging, crying, needing more. Jeongin looming above him, a cheeky smile as he teases Chan, as he thrusts deeper into him, rubbing over his nipples, making him cum over and over and over again until he physically can’t take it anymore.
It’s torture. Pure torture and Chan has no idea how he makes it through the rest of the filming without combusting on stage. He is very aware of the bulge in his boxers, thankful for the baggy jeans and later, the traditional outfit that covers him up even better.
The ride to the dorms is quiet, as it usually is after a long day like this. They go in separate cars and Chan makes sure to get in with Felix, Changbin and Seungmin instead of squeezing into the other car. He kind of gets the feeling that Changbin and Hyunjin are avoiding each other too. At least he’s not the only one even though they didn’t full on kiss.
He’s glad none of the members try to talk to him about the incident. He can feel their eyes on him but they sense that he needs space, that he’s close to not going home at all and pulling an all-nighter in the studio instead.
They part ways when they arrive at the building, everyone heading up to their individual apartments. Jisung squeezes his biceps on the way out of the elevator, a grin on his squishy cheeks. Chan decides to ignore it. He’s thankful that Jeongin isn’t home yet, that gives him enough time to get in a quick shower and take care of his problem. After that he’ll hide in his room and pretend he went to bed early.
With the plan set he locks the bathroom door behind him, something they don’t always do. Jeongin is not as exhibitionistic with his body as some of the other members, but none of them lock the bathroom door to shower. He just hopes the younger one won’t notice Chan’s sudden secrecy.
He strips himself naked, shuddering when the cold air hits his bare chest. A tiny noise slips out from between his lips as he frees his half-hard cock. It only takes the tip of his finger running along its length to get him fully hard again. He won’t last longer than five minutes maximum, that’s for sure. Usually, Chan likes to drag things out but now, he just needs to cum as quickly as possible.
He steps into the shower, turning it on and immediately wraps a hand around himself. It’s too dry and the water is half cold, but he’s too horny to care. He hasn’t indulged himself in such a long time, always holding off because in the end, his thoughts wander back to Jeongin no matter what he does. And he shouldn’t, he can’t. Jeongin is a taboo, a big no but fuck, he is crazy for him. For everything Jeongin, not just his body but his thoughts, his happiness, his emotions, his very essence. It’s more than a crush. He is in love and his desire is driving him insane.
Just one more time, he’ll let himself imagine Jeongin’s lips wrapped around his length as water drips from his lashes onto his sharp cheekbones. Just one more time he’ll get off on the thought of Jeongin. And just once he’ll remember their kiss as he’s bringing himself to climax.
Chan is uncoordinated with his strokes. There is no finesse in the way he squeezes himself, roughly tugging at his nipples with the other hand. His hips buck into his fingers and he swallows down a moan when he thumbs over his head. He can feel his dick pulse in his hand, can feel his orgasm approaching fast. So fast he’s faint with it but god, he can’t stop himself. He needs this, needs to cum, needs to let go. He’s so desperate he doesn’t hear the front door opening over the noise of the shower, doesn’t hear the steps coming closer and closer to the bathroom.
Chan bites his lip, his movements turning frantic and desperate. He is going to cum. Any second now. Chan whimpers right as the door handle moves and Jeongin’s voice filters through the wood.
“Hyung, did you lock the door?”
His eyes fly open, panic shooting through his veins but it’s already too late. Milky white spills over his hand, immediately washed away by the shower. His dick kicks weakly, the high of the orgasm lost on him as he struggles not to sob from the overwhelming sensation.
Jeongin is right there and Chan just came while he thought about him.
He’s sick. Literally. Bile rises in his throat, his heart thunders in his ears and he is pretty sure he’s close to blacking out any moment now.
“You okay in there? Why’d you lock the door?” Jeongin genuinely sounds concerned now. “Hyung?”
Chan has to get it together. Just long enough to answer him.
“I’m okay. Sorry I’m uh, shaving. So I locked the door.” It’s a poor excuse, Jeongin has walked in on him shaving multiple times but his brain can’t come up with something better at the moment.
“Okay whatever, hurry up please. I gotta piss,” Jeongin yells back. There’s the sound of him walking away and Chan lets out a deep breath, sinking to his knees.
He’s so fucking fucked. And he’s still horny with his orgasm being ruined by the person he was thinking about suddenly showing up. Fucking great.
🍘🍘🍘
His hair is damp, clinging to his neck an hour later while he fixes himself something quick in the kitchen. Just an easy snack before he’ll disappear and sleep away his humiliation. That’s what he planned at least but of course, the universe doesn’t let him have one peaceful minute on this horrible day.
“Hyung, whatcha making?” Jeongin asks while he walks into the kitchen, draping himself over Chan’s back. He freezes up, the knife he was chopping carrots with lifted halfway into the air. When did Jeongin get this clingy? He’s usually the first one to reject any kind of physical touch.
“Ah, nothing much. Just throwing some leftovers together. I can save you some.” He hopes that it’s enough for the younger man but Jeongin stays glued to him.
“Sounds good. We can eat together. I’ll turn on the TV and look for something to watch.” It’s not a suggestion and he doesn’t wait for an answer. Just ruffles Chan’s hair before he leaves, like Chan’s the baby of the group. He inhales deeply, feeling his chest expand with the breath and holds it there for a long second before he exhales. It’s going to be okay. Just a small dinner together like they do so often before he can excuse himself to bed. It’s all going to be fine.
It is not fine. Jeongin doesn’t let him sit peacefully in his corner of the couch while he sits at the other, no, he clings to him, pressing close to his side, covers them both with the same blanket and keeps turning his head fully to look at Chan whenever he makes a comment about the show they’re watching.
Chan just nods blankly and smiles whenever that happens. He has no clue what the show is even about. It’s not something they’ve watched before. They consume quite a lot of movies and shows together, and usually they sit close and sometimes they’ll cuddle a bit but not like this. It seems like Jeongin is on a mission to drive him insane today and it’s even more evident when he places a hand very high up on Chan’s thigh, his fingers digging slightly into the flesh. Chan chokes on his last bite of food, quickly setting the bowl aside as he forces himself to swallow half-chewed rice and vegetables.
He has to act normal. Just act normal and say he’s tired and go into his room and probably cry himself to sleep because what the fuck is wrong with him that he freaks out about a hand on his thigh. Why can’t he be what he is supposed to be? A good leader, a role model, a friend. Why is he lusting after his member, why is he yearning to be close to him?
“Hyung,” Jeongin speaks up before Chan gets the chance to announce that he’s tired. “About today…”
His heart starts to race for the millionth time and he’s pretty sure he’s close to a heart attack if this keeps happening.
“What about today?” He forces himself to sound casual, eyes still glued to the TV and ignoring Jeongin staring at him.
“About the kiss.”
Three words. Three words that destroy the semblance of normalcy Chan tried so hard to uphold. Three words he can’t erase anymore, three words that state the truth that he tried to ignore.
“You mean Hyunjin and Changbin? Hah, yeah that was pretty funny.” It’s weak and it’s cowardly but he can’t talk about it. Not without revealing his true feelings. Jeongin is not dumb and Chan is a good actor, but not a great one. “Anyway, I’m super tired so I’ll head to bed now.”
He attempts to get up but there’s suddenly a hand on his torso, pushing him back in his seat. It stays right there, in the center of his chest where his heart is slamming against his ribcage.
“I’m not fucking talking about Hyunjin and Changbin. I’m talking about me kissing you and you avoiding me ever since. I’m talking about you staring at me every day like you're starving but never doing anything about it. I’m talking about me trying for months to get you to at least flirt back just for you to always run away,” Jeongin’s voice rises with every word he gets up, frustration and anger dripping from each syllable. “And you did it again today! I thought I just had to be bolder for you to finally confess but you ran away like you always do.”
Chan is pretty sure he is dreaming. Maybe he hit his head in the shower and he’s in a coma. Or he actually went to sleep right after eating with Jeongin. Or he has dreamed up this whole day and is still lying in bed, waiting for his alarm to ring. Any of those scenarios are more plausible than him actually being awake and Jeongin confronting him with his own stupid infatuation.
“Huh?” is all he can get out after several seconds of silence.
“Hyung,” Jeongin sighs. “I know you like me. I’ve known for a while. And I like you too. I just… I waited for you to confess. I thought maybe you’re not sure about your feelings but I really- I can’t wait anymore. I like you so much and can’t stand acting like we’re just friends for another second.”
“What?” Chan’s brain has stopped working completely. He is now nothing but a shell of himself, forced to make stupid confused sounds until the end of his life. Jeongin seems to like it though if the endeared smile on his face is anything to go by.
“I like you, Hyung. I kissed you on purpose today. And I want to do it again but without that stupid cracker. I want to kiss you for real this time.”
“But-” Chan starts, his dead brain trying to catch up on what is happening. “I’m weird for liking you. You're like, a million years younger than me and I’ve known you since you were fifteen. I’m not supposed to like you, it’s wrong. I shouldn’t.”
Jeongin rolls his eyes so hard only the white part is visible for a moment. “Is that why you held back so long? Hyung, we’re only three years apart. I’m twenty-five now, for God's sake. I’m not fifteen anymore. And you’re not eighteen. We’re both adults, we’re allowed to like each other.”
“But I thought you’d hate me. I thought you’d think I’m weird and it’s disgusting. You don’t even like to be touched.”
“I’m here telling you that I don’t think it’s weird. And that I like you. And that I do want to be touched if it’s by you. So can you please do that? Can you please touch me, Hyung?”
And that right there is what makes him go a little insane. The confirmation of Jeongin not only accepting Chan’s affection but reciprocating it, asking for it. It’s a weight lifted off of his shoulders, off of his heart he didn’t know was there for so long. Air seems to really reach his lungs for the first time in years and when Jeongin puts a hand up to his face, swiping his thumb over Chan’s cheekbone, that’s when he finally leans in and presses their lips together.
It’s so much better than Chan ever imagined. Jeongin’s lips are soft but his hand on Chan’s cheek is not. He leans into the kiss, eager and excited. It’s a little awkward with the angle and Jeongin suddenly throws one leg over Chan’s, sitting himself right into his lap and then he keeps kissing him.
Their lips slot together perfectly. Chan gasps when Jeongin’s hand finds its way under his shirt and the younger uses the moment to slip his tongue into his mouth, pressing closer, hungry for everything Chan has to give.
Curious fingers explore his chest, squeeze his pecs, rub over his nipples and Chan is pudding in Jeongin’s hands. He can’t do anything but lean back and enjoy it. His own fingers hold onto Jeongin’s waist for dear life as he’s pressed back into the couch. Jeongin starts to grind their hips together, moaning obscenely into the kiss and Chan curses himself for turning his head away, breaking them apart. Or at least trying to. Jeongin just latches onto his neck instead, kissing the sensitive skin. His teeth graze the spot just beneath Chan’s ear and he groans.
“Hold up, Innie, wait. We- we can’t just do this. We gotta talk about it. We really shouldn’t do this. At least not here on the couch.” He doesn’t even know why he brings the couch up, he doesn’t give a damn where they fuck but there’s still that underlying feeling of guilt. Of doing something he shouldn’t do, he isn’t allowed to do.
Jeongin seems to think otherwise with the way he’s mauling his neck and grinding on top of him.
“I don’t give a fuck about what we should do, Hyung. You want this, right? You want to have sex with me?”
He nods. He can’t lie about this.
“That’s all I need,” Jeongin responds, diving back down to kiss him senseless before Chan can keep protesting.
He tries to stop him again when Jeongin shrugs off his shirt, tries when he strips both of them from their pants, tries when Jeongin hovers above Chan, fingering himself open and dripping lube all over his thighs.
He stops trying when Jeongin sinks down onto his cock.
It’s better than anything Chan has ever felt. Jeongin is perfect. He’s hot and he’s soft and he’s so, so fucking tight Chan almost comes then and there. Jeongin is moaning above him, high and breathy as he arches his back. He looks like he’s trying to escape the sensation of Chan’s cock inside of him and get him deeper at the same time.
“Hyung,” he whines. His nails dig into Chan’s shoulders. “Fuck Hyung, you’re so fucking big.”
Chan can’t answer, doesn’t know how to. He is lost for words, can only pull him into a kiss that’s much sweeter than the ones they shared before. “Slowly, Innie. It’s okay,” he murmurs against his lips when he finally remembers how to speak Korean.
Jeongin regains his composure quickly when he gets used to Chan’s length. He moves his hips in tiny circles first before he starts to actually ride Chan.
“D’you feel good, Hyung? How often have you thought about this?” He asks, slamming his hips down, forcing a choked moan out of Chan. “C’mon tell me, I wanna know.”
“Too much. All the time. Please Innie, slow down. I’m gonna cum if you keep this up,” he pleads with the younger.
“That’s the whole point, Hyung. Just wait until I fuck you next time. I’ll make you cum before I even get my cock inside of you,” he chuckles, teasing, always teasing and his mouth is on Chan’s neck again, biting down harshly.
“Fucking brat,” he hisses, bucking up into Jeongin who moans in response. “I’ll be prepared next time so let’s see who fucks who.”
And he’s sure he’ll be better prepared next time, but right now, he’s too far gone to do more than sit there and take what Jeongin gives him, gripping onto his waist and thrusting up in short, desperate movements. Jeongin whines every time he does so that’s something to patch up his pride at least.
He knew he wouldn’t last long. Hell, he almost came just from watching Jeongin open himself up earlier. But when his orgasm is actually approaching, Chan panics. He spits into his palm and quickly wraps his hand around Jeongin’s dick, going for fast and messy.
Jeongin mewls, his hips stutter before they pick up pace and he buries his face in the juncture of Chan’s shoulder. “Fuck Hyung, please, please,” he mumbles the words against his skin like prayer and Chan is nothing if not a generous god. He swipes his thumb over the head of Jeongin’s dick, collecting the precum there and using it to make the glide of his hand around him even slicker.
Feeling Jeongin’s cock twitch in his palm, their bodies pressed so close, the tight wet heat around his own length is pure bliss. He mumbles Jeongin’s name over and over, pressing small kisses against his damp skin as they melt together, becoming one when the pleasure gets too much and they tumble over the edge together.
Jeongin bites Chan again, harder than before to muffle his moans while his own fall freely from his lips as he spills deep into Jeongin, painting his insides and marking him as his own.
It’s so much better than any orgasm he’s ever had before, so much better than the silent jerk off sessions late at night with nothing but the ghost of Jeongin’s touch on heated skin.
It is also a lot stickier though. What feels like ten different bodily fluids cling to his skin. Sweat, spit, cum and a few stray tears all mixed together with lube. He is breathing hard, still inside Jeongin while he grows soft.
“Shower?” Chan offers. Jeongin is slumped against him, not really responding, just humming his approval. They both hiss when Chan slides out of him and Jeongin refuses to walk, letting himself be carried to the bathroom instead.
The shower is filled with more kisses, much softer and sleepier now. They hold hands while they walk toward Jeongin’s bedroom and slip under the soft sheets naked, bodies immediately seeking the other out and wrapping around each other.
“That was nice,” Chan murmurs, the words less scary in the dark.
“Imagine, you could’ve had it months ago if you wouldn’t be so stupid,” Jeongin teases back.
“Sorry. I was just scared. I’m still a little scared. And we should definitely talk about this more. Tomorrow.”
“Yeah, tomorrow,” Jeongin responds, cuddling closer.
They’re silent for a while, nothing but their breathing audible in the quiet room. Chan feels boneless, pleasantly exhausted and his mind is already drifting off. But there is one more thing he has to get off of it before he can let himself sleep. Something he’s been meaning to say for years now.
“Jeongin?”
“Hm?” comes the sleepy reply.
“I really like you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to Jeongin’s soft hair.
“I really like you too, idiot,” he responds, turning his head up slightly, their lips meeting. It’s so natural, so normal. Like it was meant to be like this all along.
And all it took for Chan to get to that conclusion were years of yearning, a stupid game show and one dry as fuck rice-cracker.