[personal profile] maayacolabackup


He doesn’t fall ill with the strange fever until eleven thirty the next day. He knows Junmyeon can tell. Junmyeon’s eyes track him as he retreats from the practice room begging a potty break.

“Maybe you should start wearing diapers,” Sehun says as Jongin walks past him to get to the door. “Since you always have to go to the bathroom these days.”

Still, he’s surprised when Junmyeon appears in the bathroom a few minutes later, knocking politely on Jongin’s stall and asking if Jongin ”needs any help with that.”

Jongin’s fingers fumble with the door latch, and when it opens, Junmyeon is shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot. “I just thought… You asked me for help.” The awkward again, and Jongin had kinda thought Junmyeon considered himself through with the whole thing after the way he’d left last night. But clearly, he takes being leader more seriously than Jongin had thought.

“Yeah,” Jongin says. “I told you I couldn’t-“

“I believed you,” Junmyeon says. “I still believe you.” He’s just so nice, and Jongin rests his head against the stall as Junmyeon jerks him off, twice. He’s still hard after the second time, but they’ve been in here too long, and Jongin’s dick is raw and too sensitive to the touch.

“It’ll be manageable,” Jongin says, cautiously pulling his clothes back up. “Don’t worry about it.”

Junmyeon’s forehead is furrowed in thought, like there’s an idea forming itself in his head, but he nods. They wash their hands side by side, but, Jongin notices, Junmyeon only washes his hands once, and not like he feels unclean. “Why are you…”

“I’m your hyung,” Junmyeon says. “And you have a problem I can fix.”

If Jongin were good with words, he’d tell Junmyeon how lucky he feels to have a hyung like Junmyeon, who tries so hard for all of them. But Jongin isn’t better with words, so he settles for grabbing Junmyeon’s hand, lacing their fingers together for a moment and squeezing. Junmyeon looks at him, lips parted, and Jongin wonders if it would be all right to kiss him right now, or if that’s something he should have stolen earlier, when they were still… doing other stuff.

They’ve really been in here too long. Jongin shoves the urge down. It’s probably wrong, anyway. Another side-effect of the medication, he tells himself, as he lets go of Junmyeon’s hand.


“I’m going to stay with Jongin tonight,” Junmyeon announces over dinner. Sehun immediately smirks and does something inappropriate with his eyebrows, and Baekhyun knows better but he looks at Jongin in amusement anyway. “Because Kyungsoo can’t afford to get sick, as a lead vocalist, and because-“

“Because you want to fuss over him because he’s daddy’s favorite,” Baekhyun says, and it’s clear he’s teasing, but Junmyeon flushes with discomfort anyway. Jongin feels his own face going hot, and it’s got nothing to do with the steady uncomfortable itch of need that lies just beneath his skin, and everything to do with how much he wants to get out of this uncomfortable moment.

He thinks he catches Sehun and Baekhyun low-fiving under the table, but he can’t be sure over how loudly Chanyeol is crunching down on the four cookies he has shoved into his mouth.


Junmyeon carefully locks the door when they retire for the night. Jongin sits on the edge of the bed, looking up at Junmyeon, and Junmyeon looks back at him and swallows.

“How is it?”

Jongin takes a deep breath. “Like if you don’t touch me I’m going to burn alive,” Jongin says honestly. “Like-“ Like Jongin can’t breathe, and like every part of him is screaming out for Junmyeon, who is more necessary to his rebellious body right now than air. “Can’t you just-“

“You can’t just keep…” Junmyeon digs into his pocket and produces a small unmarked bottle. “You’re going to rub yourself raw.”

“I know, I know,” Jongin says. “But I can’t ignore it, and I can’t-“ He bites down on the words I can’t let you keep blowing me until I can’t get off anymore because he’s almost afraid Junmyeon would do it.

“I have an idea. If you’ll trust me.” Junmyeon hesitates, thumb clicking and closing the snap-cap of the tiny bottle, which looks like hand sanitizer but Jongin doubts actually is hand sanitizer.

He approaches the bed, and comes to a stop between Jongin’s legs. He bends down and kisses Jongin, and it’s too soft. Jongin wants more, and he feels greedy, but he takes anyway, curling his hand along Junmyeon’s jaw to tilt his head more to the right, so Jongin can get deeper, and taste more of Junmyeon’s mouth.

“Please,” Jongin says, palming himself through his track pants, and the word ghosts between them. Junmyeon licks his own lips, and Jongin makes a grab for his tongue. He misses. “I trust you.”

“Take off your clothes,” Junmyeon says, and after he says it, he blushes, and Jongin loves that Junmyeon could possibly be embarrassed when Jongin is sitting down in front of him begging to be touched. It sort of puts him at ease. “I mean, if that’s-“

“Yeah,” Jongin says, and he pulls his shirt up over his head, and shimmies out of his adidas, as well, leaving himself naked. Junmyeon has pulled off his sweater, too, folding it carefully and leaving it on Kyungsoo’s bed.

“Just in case your vendetta against my sweaters is a trend and not a coincidence,” he says with a tiny laugh, and it’s not funny but it’s nervous laughter bubbling in Jongin’s chest and twining with the desire and need that’s eating him alive, anyway. Junmyeon’s back now, and Jongin can feel the haze, again. “Your skin is so hot. I feel like I’m burning just standing next to you.”

“Yours too,” Jongin says, gesturing at Junmyeon’s clothes, even as Junmyeon lies cool hands on his cheeks. “Take yours off too.”

“There’s no reason for me to do that,” Junmyeon says. “This is for you.” He sounds like he’s trying to convince both Jongin and himself, but Jongin doesn’t particularly want to be convinced.

“More skin is better,” Jongin says. “And it’s better if I can-”

Junmyeon swallows, and Jongin can see the indecision in his eyes, so he pulls upward on Junmyeon’s tank top, and Junmyeon has never been very good at telling Jongin no.

“All right,” Junmyeon croaks out, and then he quickly takes the tank off, and self-consciously drops his trousers, too. “Although I’m not as-“

Jongin grabs Junmyeon’s forearm and pulls him back between his spread legs, and drags him down. His body demands contact, and as Junmyeon falls forward toward Jongin’s mouth, his hands land on Junmyeon’s thighs to deliver it. Between Junmyeon’s right hand and Jongin’s skin, though, is that little bottle, and Junmyeon’s fingers curl around it as one of his hands comes up to push on Jongin’s chest.

Jongin falls back into his comforter, and Junmyeon studies him for a moment, eyes bright with… Jongin almost thinks it’s disbelief, which is what he thinks he might be echoed in himself, somewhere, underneath all the need.

There is too much space between them. “Your eyes are dilated, again. Like they were the other night.”

“Hyung,” Jongin says, and Junmyeon unsnaps the bottle cap again.

“If I keep touching your…” he trails off, and of course Junmyeon doesn’t want to say dick, Jongin thinks. It nice that there’re some things, even in this ridiculous situation, that stay the same. He digs his hands into the comforter as it becomes harder to think anything at all. “If I keep touching you there, it’s going to hurt too much. So I thought…”

“Just, whatever,” Jongin says. “Whatever is okay.” He’s losing the ability to concentrate on anything but Junmyeon’s hands. “Just please touch me. Please.”

Junmyeon inhales deeply. “Okay. Scooch up.” Jongin does. “I’ve never done this before, but I looked it up and I think I know-“

Please,” Jongin repeats, because his skin is too hot, and he’s turning to ash under Junmyeon’s frantic eyes.

“Okay, okay,” Junmyeon says, and he coats his fingers with the clear liquid. “I’m going to-“ He pauses and shakes his head, like he’s shaking out the cobwebs, and then Jongin closes his eyes as Junmyeon pushes his hands up the insides of Jongin’s thighs, spreading them apart.

Then he can feel Junmyeon’s finger circling somewhere Jongin’s never put anything in, and he’d panic if his body weren’t already shifting toward it, like it’s trying to hurry Junmyeon’s finger inside of him.

When it does enter, Jongin makes a tiny sound in the back of his throat that has Junmyeon’s finger halting its progress. “Are you—Jongin, I want you to look at me, so I know…”

Jongin opens his eyes, and he feels dizzy and wild. “Don’t-“

“I can stop-“

“Don’t, don’t stop, don’t-“ Jongin sighs with relief as the finger slides all the way in, crooking and stretching. He feels full, but he wants to feel fuller, and he’s pushing his hips up to push on Junmyeon’s hand.

“Do you… do you like it?” Jongin can’t answer, because Junmyeon is adding a second finger, and stretching, pressing along the walls inside of him like he’s looking for something.

When he finds it, Jongin has to throw one of his arms across and bite down on the flesh there to stop himself from screaming.

It’s not a piercing pleasure, but more of a constant one that grows as Junmyeon continues to press on it, kneading at the area continuously as Jongin sobs and pushes up against it. It’s only a minute before he’s coming, spilling across his belly as Junmyeon continues to prod at the spot.

“I guess that works, then,” Junmyeon says, bewildered, and Jongin nods furiously, already beginning to rock against Junmyeon’s hand again.

Jongin comes for a the second time only a couple minutes later, and as he spirals down from that, his body, which doesn’t even feel like his own, is telling him it’s not enough.

Junmyeon slides out and Jongin feels the loss, but then Junmyeon is… Junmyeon is moving between his legs, and the wetness that’s there now is a lot hotter than the slippery stuff Junmyeon had used before, and Jongin realizes it’s Junmyeon’s tongue.

That tongue licks at the stretched rim, lingering until Jongin spills quiet pleas and then Junmyeon delves inside. Jongin’s never felt anything like this, but he can feel the itch fading again as he comes for the third time, dry.

But he’s still hard, and he still feels a little empty, and he wants Junmyeon to come up and kiss him, and he wants…

"I want..." Jongin is distracted by the way Junmyeon's palm slides reverent up his thigh, followed by his lips and a tongue that draws patterns on the skin. "More." Everything is fuzzy, now, and Jongin is unsure of most things but not about the fact that he wants Junmyeon to be closer.

"What are you asking for, Jongin?" Junmyeon's hands are sure as they linger at Jongin's hips, and Junmyeon's mouth feels amazing as it drags, open down Jongin's sternum, now. "I can't read your mind, no matter how many times I've wished I could."

"Inside," Jongin says, and Junmyeon continues mouthing at Jongin's chest as he waits for Jongin to finish. Junmyeon's always been so patient with him, Jongin thinks, and his blood is like lava. "I want you to..." Jongin's words get stuck in his throat, but this is important, because he knows Junmyeon won't do anything unless Jongin asks for it specifically. Maybe that's why Jongin trusts him so very much; why Jongin thinks it's okay to suck it up and continue this treatment for his back if he has Junmyeon to help him through the tough parts. "I want you to put… to be inside of me."

Junmyeon is not expecting it, Jongin can tell. He can tell because Junmyeon's fingers cease their comforting circles along the bones of Jongin's pelvis, and because his mouth stays in the same place now, leaving a mark instead of moving along to keep from marring Jongin's skin. Junmyeon would never do that unless he wasn't paying attention, even if Jongin doesn't think he minds it. "Are you sure?"

His voice is just one step from steady and Jongin reaches up to slide a hand down Junmyeon's arm to grasp at wrist. "Kiss me," Jongin demands, and Junmyeon looks up at him. In the dark, his eyes are unfathomable, filled with so many different things that Jongin can't quite understand but thinks maybe he's supposed to. Jongin's never been so good at people. But Junmyeon's never been so good either, and at least they both know that.

"Yes," Junmyeon says, and then there's the now-familiar weight of him, pushing Jongin down deeper into the mattress, their legs tangling together as their mouths follow suit. Junmyeon's not gentle at all as he works his way into Jongin's mouth, sucking harshly on Jongin's tongue as Jongin's hands scratch all the way down Junmyeon's back to rest on his asscheeks, pulling him as close as he can like this. Junmyeon fits perfectly against him, he thinks, and the feeling beneath his skin doesn't hurt so bad when there's Junmyeon's skin above it. Jongin takes Junmyeon's upper lip between his teeth and tugs, and Junmyeon's hands find their way into Jongin's hair, yanking hard enough that it hurts. Jongin... likes that, and he wants...

"Hyung," he says, insistent, against Junmyeon's lips, and Junmyeon pulls back to look Jongin straight in the eye. Jongin feels exposed, the way Junmyeon's looking at him. He knows that's ridiculous, because he's naked right now and that should already be as exposed as it's possible to get, but Junmyeon's looking at him like he's trying to peel away layers of Jongin to make sure what's underneath is everything Jongin says it is. "I want you closer."

"Closer," Junmyeon says, with a tiny laugh that borders on hysterical. "Are you asking me to fuck you, Jongin?" The word from Junmyeon's lips feels rough, and Jongin's ashamed of the way it makes his cock twitch. Junmyeon gasps, and his own hips jerk. "You are trying to send me straight to hell, aren't you?"

Jongin closes his eyes and tries to will Junmyeon into believing him. Junmyeon's hands resume their movement, and Junmyeon leans in again to pepper kisses across Jongin's face again. "Have you ever..." he asks between pecks, and Jongin seeks friction with upward rolls of his hips even as Junmyeon's hips press down with equal urgency.

"No," Jongin says. "Obviously not." Jongin's never really wanted that. Never thought about wanting it. Right now, though, he can't think of anything he wants more, and he knows it's the medication but if he can't have it he thinks he might fall apart. "But..."

"Why am I always agreeing to everything you ask of me?" It's not actually a question. Junmyeon says it like he already knows the answer. One of his hands finds its way back between Jongin's legs, and he's still loose enough for two of Junmyeon's fingers to slip right back inside. Junmyeon easily finds Jongin's prostate, and Jongin spreads his legs wider to give Junmyeon more room to work.

Because you love me, is what Jongin would say if this were anyone else, but the words feel wrong in his mouth, and to be honest, there's no way this would ever be anyone else. Jongin can't imagine ever trusting anyone else like this. "Another," he says, instead, and a third finger presses gently at his rim. It stings as it slides in, but he's still so slippery with lube that once Junmyeon gets past his entrance, the rest of the finger's press into him is steady, and it quickly joins the other two.

Jongin's never felt stretched so wide. "How are you doing?" Junmyeon asks. Jongin forces his eyes open, and Junmyeon is watching him carefully, bangs sticking to his face with perspiration and chest flushed and heaving. Jongin is gratified that having his fingers up Jongin's ass is turning him on as much as it turns Jongin on, but that's just a flicker of a thought as Junmyeon's fingertips flutter continuously against his prostate.

"F-fuck me," Jongin manages, and the sigh Junmyeon releases is much closer to a groan as he pulls his fingers free. Jongin feels empty, and like he'll die if he isn't filled, but for a moment-- one small, unforgettable moment-- he just wants to drag Junmyeon down and press their cheeks together so he can feel Junmyeon's pulse in time with his own. It disappears like smoke, though, replaced with the roaring flame inside of him that refuses to be extinguished. “Please, hyung, just-“

“Shhh,” Junmyeon says, wiping his hand on Jongin’s sheets before he lifts his hand back up to brush the hair out of Jongin’s eyes. “I’ve got you.” It’s the same thing he said the first time Jongin had asked him for help, in the kitchen, when Jongin had no idea what was wrong or anything beyond the desire that fogged his gaze. He knows Junmyeon means it.

“I know,” Jongin says, and then Junmyeon is pouring more lube onto himself, coating himself quickly with a shaking hand. He positions himself at Jongin’s entrance, and Jongin doesn’t know what to do with his hands so he grips the backs of his thighs.

Junmyeon sinks into him slow, and the stretch is… In some ways it’s painful, but in other ways, Jongin wants to sob with relief. He settles for a long, low moan, which Junmyeon quickly stifles with his hand over Jongin’s mouth even as he shudders. “It’s so tight,” he says. “Jongin, it’s so tight.”

Jongin can see the strain in every muscle of Junmyeon’s body as he tries to hold himself still, giving Jongin time to adjust that Jongin doesn’t need. “Move,” Jongin says against Junmyeon’s palm. It doesn’t sound like a word, so Jongin tightens his abs and starts to move himself, until Junmyeon’s hips tense and then snap forward, making Jongin cry out as he hits just to the left of his prostate. It’s close enough to send a ripple of pleasure up Jongin’s spine.

He clenches around Junmyeon, which makes Junmyeon uncover his mouth because he needs both arms to support his weight as he begins thrusting in earnest. It’s not fast enough for Jongin, but he likes that at this pace, he can see every movement of Junmyeon’s face. Junmyeon is biting at his lip hard enough that there’s a bit of blood.

“Is it okay?” Junmyeon asks, and Jongin wants to laugh because it’s more than okay, better than okay, and all he needs is for Junmyeon to take him harder.

“Yeah,” he says, because Junmyeon is looking at him anxiously, and then he reaches up and drags Junmyeon back down on top of him. It changes the angle, and now Jongin can wrap his legs around Junmyeon’s slim hips, which is more comfortable and pulls Junmyeon in even deeper. “Yeah.”

Junmyeon does laugh, incredulously, when Jongin follows that up with ”harder”, and Jongin just loses himself to the steady hum of the constant prostate stimulation mixed with Junmyeon’s warm breath on his neck. He’s not sure what he says, but there’s a constant jumble of half-formed sentences tumbling out from his mouth, and he can’t control it any more than he’s been able to control any other part of his body lately. Junmyeon’s got him though, murmuring steady reassurances into Jongin’s ear as Jongin rides out Junmyeon’s hard, even thrusts.

He’s surprised when he comes, his back arching up and spasming around Junmyeon’s cock, which has Junmyeon moaning into Jongin’s shoulder before pulling out and coming all over Jongin’s stomach.

Jongin sighs with relief when he feels himself getting soft. His whole body feels turned inside out. Junmyeon carefully settles down beside him, and Jongin immediately reaches for him and tugs him close again, not caring that he’s making a bigger mess with both of their come between them.

”Closer,” he says, Junmyeon stiff against him, and Junmyeon relaxes at the word, draping one arm across Jongin’s waist, half under Jongin’s own arm clutching at his.

“Okay,” Junmyeon says. “I can do this.”

Jongin presses a wet, sloppy kiss to Junmyeon’s cheek. “Thank you,” Jongin says, and it doesn’t feel like enough but it must be, because Junmyeon exhales.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, and Jongin falls asleep.


He’s alone in bed when he wakes. There’s a faint dip of disappointment, but Jongin doesn’t know why. It’s not like he needs Junmyeon right now. The medicine never kicks in until midmorning, so there’s no reason for Junmyeon to be in his bed now, when Jongin isn’t itching for Junmyeon’s mouth or hands or cock.

There’s an embarrassing pull in his thighs and the kind of soreness that comes from using previously unused muscles as he gets on his knees to give himself his shot.

Sehun looks smug as he corners Jongin in the bathroom the next morning. “So,” Sehun says, “you’re fucking our leader, now?”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Jongin says, and Sehun cackles. “Just shut up.”

“It’s not like everyone couldn’t hear you last night,” Sehun continues, positively giddy with schadenfreude. “Oh, there! There, hyung, harder!”

Jongin can’t decide if he wants Sehun to drop dead or if he wants to strangle him so he can watch the light leave his eyes. “No,“ Jongin says. “I refuse to acknowledge that I was that loud.”

“Never pegged you for a screamer,” Sehun continues blithely. “But here we are, traumatized together.”

“You’re not traumatized,” Jongin accuses. “You’re just happy whenever you get to make my life a bit more miserable.”

“No, but Chanyeol is traumatized. He looks like someone cancelled Christmas and told him duizhang is never coming back to Korea all at once.” Sehun shrugs. “I, for one, am glad I don’t have to watch you endlessly pine after our leader anymore.” Sehun squirts toothpaste on his toothbrush, pinning his hair back with a bobby pin before he shoves it into his mouth.

“What are you talking about?” Jongin asks. “I have never pined-“

“But now that you’ve confessed and copulated I suppose that’s over.” Foam covers his lips, and he looks really stupid, and the things he’s saying make Jongin confused.

“Confessed?” Jongin’s hands grip the edge of the sink. “What are you talking about?”

Sehun pauses, and then slowly, deliberately, pulls the toothbrush out of his mouth. He spits the extra toothpaste out, and rinses his mouth, all the while Jongin staring at him and trying to make sense out of this conversation.

“Jongin,” Sehun says, after he’s carefully wiped his mouth. “If you aren’t…” He considers. “Why are you having sex with Junmyeon-hyung?”

“He’s…” Well, you see, my medication has somehow made me need to have sex with him over and over again to keep myself from burning alive from the inside seems a bit overboard. “Helping me with a problem.”

“A problem,” Sehun says, like Jongin is a particularly difficult toddler who has trouble following directions. “Is our comeback choreography trapped up your butthole and you need his help to find it?”

“No, it’s…” He sighs. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s probably not. You’re just dumb,” Sehun says, and though he’s got that same snarky tone Jongin’s learned to tune out, his eyes are serious.

“It’s going to be fine,” Jongin says, and hopes it’s true. He’s only on this medication for another week. Then everything will go back to normal. Jongin won’t wake up in the middle of the night and want to steal his way into Junmyeon’s mouth until Junmyeon wakes up and slides then cool fingers up his chest. Jongin won’t long for Junmyeon to bury himself inside of him over and over again until the only thing Jongin can remember is Junmyeon’s name.


“Fine like your back was fine?” Sehun asks, and Jongin swallows.

“Everything all right?” Junmyeon whispers to him later, when they’re smushed together in the back of the van.

His arm is around Jongin’s waist. He’d looked at Jongin hesitantly when he’d first done it, like he’d thought Jongin would reject him and move his arm away, but instead, Jongin had leaned into the touch, which had made Kyungsoo raise both eyebrows and Chanyeol scrunch his face up like he’d just seen his parents kissing. Baekhyun had just smirked, and Sehun had rolled his eyes.

“Yeah,” Jongin says, and he feels strangely warm. Junmyeon’s touch, lately, has been the only thing cool enough to soothe the burning inside of him, but right now something about Junmyeon’s thumb sliding unconsciously back and forth across his hip bone makes him feel like he’s… melting in a good way. “I’m good.”

He tries not to think about Sehun’s eyes, which rest heavily on him with judgment.

Rehearsal goes perfectly, even if Junmyeon has to blow Jongin in the bathroom twice during lunch break. Jongin blows Junmyeon once, too, but only because it seems fair, and not because Junmyeon looks so pretty flushed and shaking on the edge of the sink when Jongin studies him through his lashes.


“How is your back doing?” The doctor asks, and Jongin gulps. “We’re approximately halfway through the treatment now, and you should be feeling substantially better.”

“Well,” Jongin says. “It doesn’t hurt at all.” Jongin hasn’t thought about it in days.

“Good,” the doctor says. “Any side effects?”

“Nothing I haven’t been able to handle,” Jongin says, and somehow keeps from growing hard when he thinks about Junmyeon’s fingers scissoring inside him. “With a little help.”

“One more week, and you’ll be done,” the doctor says.

“Got it,” Jongin replies.


“I’m going to stay with Sehun,” Kyungsoo says. “For obvious reasons.”

“Just for this week,” Junmyeon says, adamantly. “Then we go back to normal. Okay?”

“If you says so,” Kyungsoo says, looking between Junmyeon and Jongin curiously. Jongin stares down at the wood of the table instead. “But why…?”

“Just this week,” Junmyeon repeats, and Jongin doesn’t think he likes the catch in Junmyeon’s voice.


Junmyeon pushes Jongin up against the wall, grinding into him furiously as Jongin clutches at Junmyeon’s jacket. They’ve just performed and they both smell sweaty, but Junmyeon’s mouth (and Jongin’s figured it out now, it’s his chapstick) still tastes like strawberries, and Junmyeon’s just as hard as he is, this time, pushing back against Jongin’s thrusts like he’s also possessed with Jongin’s ‘itch’.

There’s the fear of discovery, but it’s not enough to stop Jongin from whining until Junmyeon lifts onto his tippy toes to kiss him, taking control of Jongin’s mouth until Jongin is following him back down, neck bent at an awkward angle to keep the connection from breaking.

Jongin feels like he’s got a thirst that he can’t quench, but Junmyeon is so willing to keep being his water, pouring into Jongin’s mouth until Jongin is so full of Junmyeon that he can’t feel the pain of the burn under his skin.

Junmyeon throws his head back as he comes, and Jongin’s right behind him, and when they catch their breath, Jongin studies Junmyeon’s face, wiping at Junmyeon’s smeared makeup with his thumb.

“You’re a mess, too,” Junmyeon says, and Jongin smiles at him dopily, head still swimming from orgasm.

“Yeah,” Jongin says, and then he leans forward and drops a kiss on Junmyeon’s nose, because it’s there, and he feels like it, and Junmyeon looks up at him with the softest expression Jongin’s ever seen before he stops himself. He does smile, though, and Jongin’s heart stutters and squeezes.

Oh, Jongin thinks, as Junmyeon pulls out of his grasp, leaving him alone in the hallway. Oh.

He gives himself a minute to gather his thoughts before he walks into the dressing room. Chanyeol has Sehun pulled into his lap as Baekhyun tickles him mercilessly, and Kyungsoo is watching them indulgently, which is probably not a good idea, considering that Chanyeol is checking up on Kyungsoo’s location out of the corner of his eye like Kyungsoo’s next.

They all look up at Jongin’s entrance, and Baekhyun ceases Sehun’s torment, Chanyeol letting him go. Sehun immediately tries to flatten his hair and repair his appearance, but he’s as much a catastrophe as Jongin himself.

“Where’s hyung?” Chanyeol asks.

“I dunno,” Jongin says. “Am I his keeper, now?” He crosses his arms defensively, and Sehun rolls his eyes.

“Jongin, seriously?”

“He went toward KRY’s dressing room,” Jongin mumbles, already feeling the itch coming back. His neck is hot. “Probably to go see Kyuhyun.”

“Oh, we should greet them too,” Chanyeol says, and this time it’s Baekhyun rolling his eyes. “As responsible juniors.”

“You’re just sizing up the competition for duizhang’s heart,” Baekhyun says, content to follow along anyway.

“I don’t need to size Ryeowook-seonbae up,” Chanyeol protests. “I know exactly how big he isn’t.” He clears his throat. “Not that I care. Kris can like whomever he wants and I totally don’t care.”

“What if duizhang is into tiny men, though?” Sehun says, and Chanyeol looks at Sehun with dismay before he smiles wide.

“I don’t care!” Chanyeol says, but he bounds out into the hall anyway, Baekhyun at his heels like a pet-owner afraid of what his puppy will do if it slips the leash. Sehun deliberates for a moment before following, waving goodbye as he lets the door close behind him.

“So you and Junmyeon-hyung,” Kyungsoo says, when it’s just himself and Jongin left in the room. Jongin can feel come, dry now, flaking on his thigh, and he’s not ready for this conversation.

His body is on a low simmer, but just thinking about Junmyeon, and the sweet smile he’d given Jongin when Jongin had leaned forward and kissed his nose… it’s enough to leave Jongin’s head spinning, and he can’t blame it on anything but himself. “It’s not what you think.”

“And what do I think?” Kyungsoo asks curiously. “Since you’ve suddenly developed telepathy, and know my thoughts…”

“We’re not… It’s not like dating, or…” Jongin fumbles, and Kyungsoo just stares at him until he gives up.

Kyungsoo has a way of looking at Jongin, sometimes, that makes Jongin feel like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and this is a little like that. It creates an unusual tense silence between them, which is odd because usually Kyungsoo is the person Jongin feels most comfortable with, because Kyungsoo never judges Jongin for the things he can’t do and encourages him to do the things he can.

“Don’t you dare hurt him,” Kyungsoo says finally. “I don’t know what this is to you, but for Junmyeon, it’s…”

“It’s what?” Jongin’s hands toy with the hanging gold threads of his performance shirt, and he can’t meet Kyungsoo’s gaze.

“Never mind,” Kyungsoo says. “Just don’t hurt him.”

“I would never, ever want to do that,” Jongin replies, and Kyungsoo is staring at him again, he can feel it. He makes himself stare back, and whatever Kyungsoo finds in his gaze satisfies him.

“Then that’s all I have to say.” Kyungsoo pats him on the shoulder, and leaves Jongin alone in the room, thinking about the things Kyungsoo hadn’t said, and what it means that he can’t stop remembering the way Junmyeon had smiled at him earlier.


Jongin can’t imagine not needing the stretch of Junmyeon pushing into him; not craving the softness of Junmyeon’s lips or the preciseness of his small hands or the wetness of his mouth. “Thank you,” he says into the skin of Junmyeon’s jaw, but that never feels like the right thing to say. It never feels like enough. Jongin is feverish again, and Junmyeon’s hands are cold as ice along his shoulders and back.

“You’re welcome,” Junmyeon says, and those don’t feel like the right words either, but they’ll have to do for now.

He lifts himself slowly, Junmyeon’s hands immediately coming to his waist to steady him, and Junmyeon’s cock slips out of him almost all the way before Jongin misses the fullness too much and slams himself back down. Junmyeon lets out a hoarse cry as Jongin’s nails dig into his shoulders, marking him, but then he’s looking up at Jongin with eyes that are luminous and shimmering like the moon reflected in the water.

Between that, and Junmyeon’s hips shifting up from beneath to plunge into him deeper, Jongin is full enough to burst, and the burn beneath his skin is nothing more than a distant memory beneath the bruising grip of Junmyeon’s quivering hands.


“Sometimes I look at you,” Sehun says, “and ponder on how you make it through everyday life when you’re this oblivious.”

“What?” Jongin asks, not moving from his watch over Junmyeon, whose feet are in all the wrong places and whose hair looks more like that of an untended sheep than that of a twenty-two year old man. Hopeless, Jongin thinks fondly.

“Hopeless,” Sehun says, and Jongin turns to look at Sehun so he can agree aloud, but Sehun is looking at him, and not at Junmyeon.


As Jongin administers his last shot, he feels a strange sense of loss that he doesn’t understand at all.

When Junmyeon licks up the column of his throat in the back stairway in the middle of rehearsal, one hand slipping down Jongin’s sweats and the other up to toy with his nipple, through the sweltering heat that clouds his mind, he maybe understands it a little.

Junmyeon’s sweatshirts are just as ugly as his sweaters, but he looks good in Jongin’s, when Jongin tosses it over his shoulders while Junmyeon tries to fix his hair.

“You looked cold,” Jongin says, and Junmyeon’s smile is like sunshine.


That night, their last night, Junmyeon is torturously slow with every touch.

“What are you…”

“Memorizing,” Junmyeon says, and Jongin whimpers as Junmyeon’s thumb circles Jongin’s right nipple. As has become habit, Jongin’s body keens into Junmyeon’s touch, all the blood in his body rushing to wherever Junmyeon brushes his fingertips. His nerves are shot—frayed beyond tolerance, and his body begs for more whenever Junmyeon pulls away to take a breath.

Junmyeon kisses him unhurriedly, deliberately; his mouth crushing into Jongin’s like there is nothing else he’d rather be doing, and Jongin really… His body likes that, but he thinks his mind, what’s left of it now, likes it too.

When he feels Junmyeon shift on top of him, he immediately spreads his legs, but Junmyeon just sits back on his heels and looks down at Jongin. “There’s something… Can I try something?”

“Always,” Jongin manages, and the word makes Junmyeon quiver. Jongin looks at him, through foggy eyes, lust clouded eyes, and sees that...something... there, again.

This part, the part where Junmyeon rubs at his entrance with a lubed thumb and index finger, dipping in tauntingly in a way that's supposed to make it easier for Jongin to take his two fingers but ultimately just drives Jongin insane, is not new. Neither is the part where Junmyeon licks and nips at Jongin's inner thighs and stimulates his prostate until he comes all over his stomach, sobbing Junmyeon's name and forgetting the honorific.

But after that, when Jongin expects Junmyeon to replace the three fingers he has inside of Jongin with his dick, Junmyeon instead pulls away from Jongin completely, moving so he's not anywhere near a position where he could slide home into Jongin's body, where Jongin is waiting for him.

The fever, for the last time, has already consumed him, and he just wants Junmyeon to keep his hands on him until it abates.

"What are you doing?" Jongin asks, and Junmyeon nudges him onto his side, letting his hand remain on Jongin's hip as he slides in behind him. Jongin almost turns to ask him again when Junmyeon doesn't answer, but then Junmyeon's chest is pressed to his back, and he can feel the wild beating of Junmyeon's heart against his spinal chord. It's beating almost as fast as Jongin's own.

He can feel Junmyeon's erection digging into his ass, and Junmyeon leaving lingering kisses at the nape of his neck, so Jongin just melts back into him instead, one hand coming up to stroke himself as he waits to see what Junmyeon will do.

Junmyeon slides his hand down the thigh on top, stopping right above his knee. Then his hand slips down the back, Jongin whimpering at the touch, and under, lifting Jongin's leg up and scooting forward, and this is strange, but Jongin's too hot, too aroused to do anything but push back.

"I’ll be right there," Junmyeon says. "Hold on." The words whisper across the skin that Junmyeon's just kissed, and Jongin comes into his own hand as Junmyeon's cock presses at his entrance.

Junmyeon waits until Jongin stop trembling before he pushes in, and this... this is like nothing Jongin's ever felt before, because it feels simultaneously like he's being fucked deeper than he's ever been fucked and also like Junmyeon is hugging him, heartbeat like a rabbit but motion of his hips steady and smooth, and Jongin tries his best not explode. "What-"

"I thought it might be nice," Junmyeon says, and it's like he's struggling to breathe, "if I could hold you like this."

"Yeah," Jongin says back, and then everything is a rush of feelings, not thoughts, as Junmyeon thrusts into him like they've got all night. Jongin guesses they do. Junmyeon's other arm, somehow, is underneath Jongin's neck, like a pillow, and Jongin is going to turn to ash because even as Junmyeon takes him so thoroughly, he tries to make sure that Jongin is comfortable. "It’s… yeah."

"I'm glad," Junmyeon says, and he sounds all choked up, and Jongin tilts his head and lands fleeting kisses on Junmyeon's thin, pale forearm where he can reach, and this is more than... It's more than something, not that Jongin knows what.

Jongin comes again, lulled into orgasm by Junmyeon's sedate but firm pace and Junmyeon's bruising fingers under his knee and Junmyeon's wet gasps against his neck. Jongin doesn't stay hard, this time, and the overstimulation leaves him shivering. Junmyeon goes to pull out, but Jongin whines "stay" and Junmyeon does, continuing to fuck Jongin until he feels his own release coming, and then pulling out and coming across the back of Jongin's thighs.

Junmyeon cleans him up quietly, same as he usually does, only the kisses he leaves in his wake, this time, are more lingering. ”Memorizing,” he’d said, and Jongin doesn’t understand but his skin is cool and he still wants Junmyeon closer anyway.

“Can you…” Jongin’s throat is dry and raw. “Can you be here when I wake up?” It’s presumptive and unnecessary and greedy, but it’s what Jongin wants, and Jongin knows that Junmyeon’s always had trouble saying no to him.

“All right,” Junmyeon says, and Jongin can’t figure out why Junmyeon sounds so off. “I can do that.”

“If you don’t want to-“

“I do,” Junmyeon says, and he hesitates, and then he drops a kiss on Jongin’s shoulder. Jongin’s hand is cold, so he finds Junmyeon’s and links their hands together, palm to palm. Junmyeon’s hand is so much smaller than his own, but his fingers fit perfectly between Jongin’s own. “I really do.”

He buries his face in Jongin’s neck, and there’s a wetness on Junmyeon’s cheeks, and if Jongin didn’t know better, he’d think Junmyeon was crying. He scoots up on the bed a little, enough that he can drag Junmyeon on top of him, chest to chest, and now he can feel Junmyeon’s heartbeat against his own where they overlap. “Thank you,” Jongin says, and Junmyeon shakes his head. His hair tickles at Jongin’s lips and chin.

“Goodnight, Jongin,” he says, and it takes both of them, Jongin thinks, a long, long time to fall asleep.


Jongin wakes up in the morning to Junmyeon’s soft snores, drool pooling in his collarbone, and hair in his mouth. Junmyeon’s hand is splayed wide across his hip, and Jongin’s arm is asleep.

What Jongin wants most right now is to wait for Junmyeon to wake up and then kiss at his cheeks and nose and chin until Junmyeon looks up at him with that awkward eyesmile and tells him he needs to brush his teeth, and that’s… that’s scary.

That’s really, really scary, and it’s enough to have Jongin wriggling himself free from Junmyeon’s grip and locking himself in the bathroom, turning the shower on hot and letting it pound against his back until the thoughts are washed away.

Only they don’t wash away, and Jongin remembers, slowly, that you can’t wash feelings away, especially not ones that have been there for a long time. The way he feels about Junmyeon, Jongin realizes, is not something new. It’s something that’s lurked beneath the surface of every interaction he’s had with Junmyeon in the past few years, and in the touches that had suddenly started to make him nervous and anxious as he got older, and been there in kisses Jongin wants to leave on Junmyeon’s nose with or without the medication’s side effects.

The way Sehun had called him hopeless makes a lot more sense in retrospect. Pining, indeed.

Armed with this new knowledge, Jongin dries himself off and returns to his bedroom, but the bed is empty; Junmyeon is gone.


Kyungsoo comes into the bedroom that night, and climbs into his own bed, and Jongin’s stomach sinks to his feet.

The only thing worse than waking up alone, he discovers, is going asleep alone, without Junmyeon’s even breaths to lull him into slumber.


“What did you do now?” Sehun asks, one chopstick stuck into a giant piece of spam and the other pointing at Jongin. He nibbles at the edge of the gelatinous meat square and narrows already narrow eyes at Jongin. “It’s like your job, lately, is being an emotional fuckwit.”

“His job is being lead dancer,” Baekhyun says. “Being an emotional fuckwit is just a hobby.”

“Thanks, Baekhyun, Sehun,” Jongin says. “It’s clear my day isn’t going terribly enough, so your input is much appreciated.”

“Leader is all mopey,” Chanyeol says, arms wrapped around his knees, lunch unopened at his side. “Also he’s going out of his way to avoid you.”

That’s true. Jongin steals a glance at Junmyeon, who is sitting on the floor next to Kyungsoo with his head on Kyungsoo’s shoulder, talking quietly. He wonders what they’re talking about.

He wishes he could talk to Junmyeon that easily, but Junmyeon won’t even look him in the eye.

“If there was a leader pageant, Junmyeon-hyung would win Miss Congeniality,” Baekhyun says. “So why has he been giving you the cold shoulder all week?”

“It’s been, like, four days,” Sehun says. “Are you going to do something about it?”

“Like what?” Jongin asks, splaying his hands out. “He won’t even be alone in a room with me.”

“Which is odd, considering that, until four days ago, all he did was, you know, be alone in a room with you.” Baekhyun says it nonchalantly, but Chanyeol coughs anyway, tucking his head between his knees. “Buck up, Chanyeol; you don’t win over Chinese leaders by being embarrassed about people having sex.”

“I’m not embarrassed, I just-“

“I didn’t do anything,” Jongin whines, and then he feels stupid for whining so he clears his throat. “I really didn’t.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Sehun replies, taking another bite of spam. He seems equal parts hungry and fascinated by the texture. “We all know how good you are at expressing your feelings.”

“Poor Junmyeon,” Baekhyun says. “In love with an romantically stunted teenager.”

“In… love?” Jongin’s brain, which had been running just fine, trips and falls flat on its face. “What?”

Everyone is staring at him now, like he has three or four heads and all of them are equally lacking in intelligence.

’It’ll be fine’, he said.” Sehun laughs. “’I’ve got this whole thing under control.’

“I never said I had anything under control,” Jongin moans, and then he mashes his face into his hands and tries not to shake as he thinks things through. “You should have known better than to think that.”

“You’re so right,” Sehun says. “And that’s the first time I’ve ever said that to you, isn’t it?”

Jongin’s breaths are coming too short to retaliate, and Baekhyun takes pity on him and changes the subject.

Later, Kyungsoo corners him coming out of the bathroom in the dorm.

“I told you not to hurt him,” Kyungsoo says, eyes hard, and Jongin wraps arms around himself.

“I didn’t know,” Jongin says. “I know I’m dumb, but I really didn’t know.”

He wants to explain to Kyungsoo that this was never a game to him; this was Jongin needing help and only having one person he felt comfortable enough with to ask for it from. This was Jongin, out of his mind and feverish and delirious, still picking Junmyeon, because Jongin’s harbored feelings for Junmyeon so long he hadn’t even recognized them.

But Kyungsoo doesn’t know about the medication, and he doesn’t know about the fevers, because Junmyeon had never, once, broken Jongin’s confidence.

“But now you do,” Kyungsoo says, gaze softening as he watches Jongin. Jongin wonders if he’s more transparent than he thinks. “So what are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know,” Jongin says, but maybe, actually, he does.


And now that he knows, it’s obvious that Junmyeon had felt, or feels, something for Jongin. His hands had trembled, Jongin thinks, the first time he’d slid his hands up Jongin’s bare chest, and maybe, if Jongin hadn’t been so lost in what his body had been doing, he would have noticed.

He notices now, though. He notices the way Junmyeon sill looks at him, when he thinks Jongin is doing something else, and the way his lips turn down when he’s not smiling for someone else.

“Junmyeon doesn’t want to make anyone worry about him, because it’s his job to worry,” is what Chanyeol says to him over dinner that night. It’s funny, because all of them dote on Junmyeon in their own ways, because Junmyeon tries so hard they all want to try just as much. Junmyeon inspires that in people. “He’s silly like that.”

Junmyeon is silly. He’s silly and awkward and he tells jokes that are even worse than Jongin’s and he wears really ugly sweaters and always asks three times before he does anything.

But Jongin thinks Junmyeon’s really beautiful anyway, inside and out.


It takes two more days before he manages to trap Junmyeon in his bedroom by feigning sickness. Junmyeon comes to check on him, wringing his hands when Jongin opens the door. He walks into the room, and Jongin locks the door behind him, leaning back against him.

“You’re not sick, are you?” Junmyeon asks. “I was worried-“

“Kyungsoo told me it might work,” Jongin says. “I’ve been trying to talk to you all week.”

“Have you?” Junmyeon’s not a good liar, either. After seven years as an SM trainee, Jongin thought he’d be better at it, but in a lot of ways, he’s glad Junmyeon isn’t.

“Stop avoiding me,” Jongin says. “Just because I’m not hard all the time anymore doesn’t-“ He groans, frustrated, and tugs at his own hair. “Why would you do that?”

Junmyeon smiles at him, wanly. “You needed my help. But now you don’t,” Junmyeon says quietly, and his voice catches on the ‘don’t’ in a way that kind of sort of breaks Jongin’s heart. It’s only fair, Jongin thinks, since maybe he’s been breaking Junmyeon’s heart this whole time.

“Hyung,” Jongin says, and he reaches out but Junmyeon takes a step back out of reach. “Don’t pull away from me!” He doesn’t mean to shout, and once he does, he clamps a hand over his mouth to stop himself from saying anything else. “Sorry.”

“Jongin, I’ve done all you needed me to do. Anything you’ve asked.” He sounds so tired, and Jongin, more than anything, wants to press kisses to the dark circles under Junmyeon’s eyes. “What more do you want from me?”

“I-“ Jongin feels panic scrabbling it’s way up his ribs as Junmyeon looks at him, and Jongin is too stupid to know the right words to say that will make Junmyeon stay here in this room and let Jongin kiss him. He’s too bad at words to know which ones are the ones Junmyeon needs to hear, but he wants to say them so very badly. “Don’t you think-“ It’s frustrating, Jongin thinks, to have a heart so full but words so empty.

“Think what?” Junmyeon asks. Jongin can see the shift, from Junmyeon’s cold shoulder to his coaxing voice; that ”Tell me all your problems, Jongin, so hyung can fix them,” voice that makes secrets Jongin had never intended to tell come pouring out.

“I only trusted you,” Jongin says, because that says everything already, and because Junmyeon should know how rarely Jongin gives his trust.

“Because I’m your leader,” Junmyeon says. “I’m the hyung you’ve known-“

“No,” Jongin says. He slides his fingers into his hair and pulls, and Junmyeon’s face is set in that generic smile that doesn’t mean anything. “No, I… You’re the only person I would ever-“ Jongin takes a deep breath. “I wanted… I still want… want you,” he finally says, giving up and saying the only thing he knows for sure.

He looks desperately at Junmyeon, who is looking back at him with eyes round and shocked, and reaches out for him again, and this time, Junmyeon doesn’t dodge. Jongin’s fingers wrap around Junmyeon’s thin wrist and his jerks him close enough that Jongin can pull him into a hug. “Me?” Junmyeon asks.

“Yeah,” Jongin says, and he tries to shove all his feelings into that one, inadequate word. “I want-“ Jongin presses his nose into Junmyeon’s hair. “Just you, is enough.”

“Just me,” Junmyeon says. “That’s everything I have, Jongin.” Junmyeon’s words are muffled by Jongin’s sweatshirt, but he hears them easily enough. He wonders if Junmyeon can feel how fast his heart is beating. “Do you know what it’s like to be offered everything you want, but in a way you really don’t want it?”

“Well, yeah,” Jongin says, because isn’t that obvious? That’s most things in Jongin’s life. It’s freedom from back pain but at the cost of Jongin’s pride, and it’s people he’s never met who love him that come with thousands of people who hate him for nothing he’s ever done, and it’s Junmyeon’s kisses given out of a sense of duty, not because he thinks that Jongin is kissable. “Of course I do.”

And Junmyeon freezes at his answer, and then his shoulders are shaking with that weird laughter that always takes Jongin a minute to figure out if Junmyeon actually thinks something is funny or if he just doesn’t want to cry.

“Oh yeah?” Junmyeon asks. “Me, Jongin?”

“Yes.” Jongin is positive.

“What if I wear one of the sweaters you hate?”

“I don’t care.”

“Nag you about eating your vegetables or taking your medication or-“

“That’s fine, too.”

“Make you beg me for-“ Junmyeon’s face flushes pink, and Jongin’s answers with an equal flush.

“T-that’s also okay,” Jongin says, and swallows down as many feelings as he can, which leaves him, still, with far too many.

“And what if I want to hold your hand in public?”

“I’d like that,” Jongin replies. “I like-“ I like you, he thinks. I might love you. “Just be you.”

“Okay,” Junmyeon says, after a silence that seems interminable, and he wraps his arms around Jongin’s waist. Jongin holds on a little tighter, and wonders if he can pull Junmyeon inside of him if he squeezes his arms enough. “I can do that.”

“Are you doing this…” Jongin doesn’t want to ask, but he has to. “Are you doing this for me, or for you?”

Junmyeon pushes on Jongin’s chest, just hard enough that Jongin loosens his grip. Then he looks up at Jongin, eyes bright. Junmyeon, Jongin thinks, looks best like this, small and warm and pleased, and Jongin wonders if Junmyeon can always look like this. “For both of us,” he answers. “I’ve always…” He trails off, but Jongin thinks he understands.

They can be bad at this together. “Me too, I think.”

“You think?” Junmyeon laughs, eyes turning into half-moons.

Jongin scrunches his nose up and sighs, and remembers Sehun’s mocking looks as Jongin tried to make Junmyeon smile, even when Jongin was sixteen and he didn’t know anything about love. “I’ve never been the quickest, with anything that’s not choreo,” Jongin replies, and Junmyeon cups his face in both hands.

“But you’ve got it now?”

“Yeah,” Jongin says, and this time, when Junmyeon kisses him, Jongin thinks that Junmyeon is setting him afire, all over again.

“Good,” Junmyeon says, lips curled upward teasingly, and Jongin falls in love all over again, too.

And when Junmyeon pushes him down onto the bed, making Jongin hiss at a forgotten tenderness in his back, Junmyeon smothers him in kisses. Then he takes Jongin with Jongin on his hands and knees, ”to keep the pressure off his back,” and Jongin wonders how Junmyeon could ever think someone wouldn’t love him.


“Public displays of affection are inappropriate during meal times,” Sehun says, as he munches on toast. “I prefer the loud late-night sex to the hand-holding and staring at the breakfast table.”

“No one cares about your preferences,” Baekhyun says. “You’re the worst maknae.”

“Pretty sure you meant greatest, but it’s early, so I’ll forgive your mistake,” Sehun says. “But just… look at them.”

“It’s cute,” Kyungsoo says, and at the word cute, Jongin finally focuses in on the conversation, realizing it’s probably about him.


“Stop staring at each other, it’s disgusting,” Sehun says. “You’re putting Chanyeol off his breakfast.”

Chanyeol has his face overstuffed with rice, and Jongin feels Junmyeon squeeze his hand gently underneath the table, and Jongin feels like he’s flying.

“You know what would really put Chanyeol off his breakfast?” Jongin asks innocently, as Junmyeon’s thumb grazes his knuckle. He’s been saving his ace. “All those pictures of Kibum-hyung’s dick you keep under your bed.”

Revenge, Jongin thinks, as Sehun accidentally bites his own tongue and tries to help pound on a choking Chanyeol’s back at the same time, is really, really sweet.


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