[personal profile] maayacolabackup

Jongin ends up washing Minseok’s sheets for him. It’s only fair, after all, seeing how they locked him out of his own room and jizzed all over his pillow (and almost onto that JJ Lin album proudly displayed on his bedside drawer).

Lu Han sits on top of the dryer, tickling Jongin with his toes and trying to distract him, which has Minseok walking back out of the laundry room as soon as he’s walked in, doing an abrupt about-face at the very idea that he might witness, first hand, what had laid carnage to his bedcovers.

It isn’t a lesson when Lu Han hooks his fingers on the waist of Jongin’s sweats and drags him closer, the dryer humming underneath Lu Han and against the front of Jongin’s thighs, and smooths a kiss just below Jongin’s lower lip. It’s just Lu Han being Lu Han, and Jongin wishes he would steal his way into Jongin’s mouth.

He doesn’t, and Jongin ends up stretching out his sore limbs and hoping Lu Han doesn’t notice how hard he is.

“Hey guys—oh.” Kyungsoo walks into the room with a basket of EXO’s dirty laundry under his right arm, which he promptly drops and scrambles to pick up. “Oh, uh, don’t mind me. You...can carry on.” He dumps the clothes into the washer and hastily adjusts the settings before scuttling out of the room as fast as Minseok had.

“Are we really that scary?” Lu Han asks, kissing the corner of Jongin’s mouth this time, his body flush against Jongin’s, hooking his legs around Jongin’s waist. Jongin can feel his pulse quickening and his erection digging into Lu Han’s stomach now. It is scary, he thinks, how Lu Han can make him feel like this in mere seconds.

“I don’t know about me, but you’re terrifying, hyung,” Jongin mumbles against Lu Han’s cheek. The dryer clanks to a stop, and Lu Han pushes Jongin away and jumps off, fishing the clean sheets out. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

EXO-M leave to Hubei for group promotions, and it goes back to being just Jongin and his hand.

Jongin can’t sleep that night.

He twists and turns in his bed, sheets particularly chafing on his naked skin, the sticky space-heater air settling on him in waves of heat, and he reaches a hand down past the elastic of his boxers and tries to recreate the sensation of Lu Han’s hand curling around him, scorchingly blissful.

Lu Han is an adventure. Every single time with him, Jongin’s discovered something (several things, if he’s really counting) new about himself. It’s not something that Jongin would’ve thought that he’d be doing in his wildest dreams, but Lu Han has been there, and Lu Han had promised him a solution, and he’s made the process so good that Jongin’s been unable to resist. And he’s been so accommodating that Jongin had begun to...look forward to being with Lu Han. A lot.

Now, with the latest experience fresh in his mind, Jongin realises he wants more.

He wants so much more.

Being completely immobilised and submissive under Lu Han’s control had given him a the kind of arousal that couldn’t have come with just simple physical contact. There was a level of trust, of understanding, of care needed. The things that Jongin’s feeling right now as he wraps his fingers around his own cock and strokes languidly is absolutely no match for the frustration and sheer pleasure that had coursed through him as Lu Han whispered foreign words into his ear and slid slender fingers one at a time into Jongin, pressing gentle rows of kisses onto Jongin’s burning skin.

But Jongin’s not sure if this is what Lu Han wants. Lu Han sends off mixed signals, and Jongin can’t read him. Sure, he might’ve been a bit too eager to...teach Jongin how to control his urges, and he might’ve gone past the boundaries that one time, but that could just be because Lu Han wants Jongin’s body. Lu Han’s had a lot of experience before. Sex to him is a platonic affair, with no emotional burden placed onto it.

Lu Han’s had sex with so many people, and Jongin is just one of them. The possessive instincts Jongin feels stirring in the pit of his stomach when he runs his thumb across the bite marks on his skin leave him reeling, and Jongin worries that he’s...fallen into something that is ultimately going to be far worse than the situation that Lu Han is helping him out of.

“Squeeze.” Lu Han’s words spring back into Jongin’s mind. Jongin clenches, forces his thighs together, tensing his muscles, fighting the pressure in his lower belly. The sensation recedes, even if recalling Lu Han’s voice creates a different sort of pressure in Jongin’s chest. It distracts from how badly he wants to come, and Jongin’s thighs tremble but he holds out.

At least that’s getting better, Jongin notes with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

It’s slowly getting better.

And lying in bed half undone because of a memory of Lu Han’s whisper in his ear, Jongin never thought that he’d dread the day his debilitating condition was fixed, but without a doubt, Lu Han’s fixing him. He’s more in control now; what was once five strokes has now become ten, become twenty; and the rub of fabric on his crotch during dance practise no longer fazes him as it had that fateful day on stage, when everyone and their mothers had found out (literally—Jongin’s mother had called when the program aired, asking if the company was overworking him because he’d run off the stage looking so distressed).

He’s being fixed, and if this means losing Lu Han, he’s not sure if that is what he wants, even if it will stop him from being the butt of all of Chanyeol and Jongdae’s jokes over lunch.

Either way, thinking about Lu Han has him exploding embarrassingly fast, and Jongin tries to catch his breath as everything spins for just a moment.

Jongin wipes his hand off on his pants, cock throbbing, and curls up on his side, a fresh set of curses running through his troubled mind.

“Can you not scream Lu Han’s name so loud?” Kyungsoo mumbles into his pillow. “We have to get up early tomorrow.”

“Sorry,” Jongin whispers, cringing. “I—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kyungsoo says. “Why don’t you just confess already?”

“To what?” Jongin asks, panicked, but Kyungsoo’s already fallen back asleep, and it takes Jongin a long time, after that, to follow suit.

When Jongin jolts awake from what is possibly the most freaky dream he’s ever had, the first thing he sees is a blurry Kyungsoo hovering over him nervously.

“Are you alright?” Kyungsoo asks, looking anywhere but the area below Jongin’s waist. “I think...you might want to head to the laundry room today. Again. This time with your sheets.”

“I’m—I’m fine.” He’s not. Flashes of the bizarre dream(1) Jongin had just had flicker in the back of his mind, and he tries not to think about how...perfect Lu Han had felt around his dick as he’d thrusted into him. Jongin wonders if it would feel just like that in real life.

Kyungsoo coughs, leaving the room, and Jongin shifts under his blankets, feeling the dried come scratch against his thighs. That dream...was no doubt telling him something. A subliminal message? A realisation of his desires? Jongin scrunches his blankets in his hands, remembering back to the first time that he and Lu Han had exchanged looks—the first time Lu Han had cornered him and offered to help, and how Jongin, inexperienced and wanting relief, had accepted, and that had been it.

Maybe, Jongin thinks, this isn’t all that there is to this relationship. He had liked being controlled, being commanded and told what to do—because that was the only thing he knew. Lu Han was his first. Being submissive under Lu Han had helped out a lot with his condition, and Jongin had been more than happy to continue that way and learn from Lu Han’s guidance—but now, he’s not so sure.

Maybe...he doesn’t want Lu Han to play the teacher role anymore.

Maybe he can turn the tables around; be the one to make Lu Han feel the same way under his hands and his commands as he had under Lu Han’s. And, Jongin thinks, heart quickening, if he likes that as much as he likes hinging on Lu Han’s every word, then...

Jongin grits his teeth in resolve. Yes, he decides, he just needs to follow what his subconscious is telling him, and act out what he’d just seen in his dream.

He shifts, feeling something dry and crusty on his thigh, and he winces as he peels off the sheets and looks down to survey the damage.

Another trip to the laundry room might indeed be in order.

But to actually follow through, Jongin needs Lu Han here. The problem? Lu Han’s still in Hubei.

Waiting for Lu Han’s return is a painfully hard process, both figuratively and literally.

To compare, it’s even more painful than that time Jongin had bitten his dentist so he’d ordered an unnecessary root canal. Although, Jongin thinks wryly, that’s a different kind of pain. That was suffering. This is also suffering, but it’s...exciting.

hyung he texts, you’ll be back soon...right?

soon~ comes the reply. let’s schedule a halloween date, jongin-ah ^^

no costumes ;A;

you can dress up as a cowgirl! the last text reads. short leather skirt. or would you rather dog ears, a collar and a leash?

Jongin’s tempted to answer both, which is alarming and completely against his newfound resolve, so he texts Lu Han one last frowny emoticon, turns his phone off, and chews on his lower lip as he tries not to imagine Lu Han’s hand sliding up his skirt, the other hand tugging at a leash.

It’s hard. Or rather, once again, Jongin is hard, and he can’t blame it on his pants or on dancing or on anything but the idea of doing the things Lu Han likes, under Lu Han’s control.

So Jongin waits until the day he can finally turn the tables.

It’s frustrating. Lu Han’s so close, just one phone call away, yet so far away, and Jongin finds himself yearning for Lu Han’s touch more than he thought he would.

It’s the second day of winter, and Jongin doesn’t want to admit it, but the reason he had gotten up so early in the cold morning (before Kyungsoo even had to shake him by the shoulders and drag him out of bed) is because he wants to be the first one out to greet Lu Han when he finally comes back from China, whenever that might be.

He’s lonely. Sure, the rest of the members are there, but it’s not the same. Now, Jongin thinks he kind of understands why Yixing and Kevin always surreptitiously hold hands in the waiting room when they think no one’s watching, or why Baekhyun and Chanyeol are always together, even on their days off. It’s nice to have someone there. There’s something that comforts the raw neediness inside him—and that something is Lu Han.

Jongin’s train of thought is broken when there’s a loud wham and raucous laughter ringing from one of the rooms—undoubtedly, that distinctive laugh is Chanyeol. It must be nice, Jongin thinks, slightly envious, to be able to fool around whenever they want.

An urge builds up inside him. If he couldn’t have Lu Han, then he could at least...pretend. Appreciate. Indulge himself. Never in a million years did Jongin ever think that he’d want to watch Chanyeol and Baekhyun going at it, but...

The others are still asleep or in their rooms, so there’s no chance of him getting caught, and even if he did, he could excuse himself by saying that they were simply being too loud and he was going to shut them up, and it would be completely plausible.

Jongin springs to his feet and pads towards the room. The door's open, just a crack—either Chanyeol or Baekhyun must've forgotten to close it, and it would be so easy to just...peek...

“Did you just spring a boner because I put on your snapback?” he hears Baekhyun say, and there’s a note of intrigue to his voice that has Jongin’s stomach tightening because he thinks that what he’s listening to is—

Jongin squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head furiously. This isn’t right. He should go.

Only his feet are rooted to the ground, because Baekhyun says, “Chanyeol. Take this off,” and it reminds him of the way Lu Han had talked to Jongin, the last time they’d... It’s the thought of Lu Han that get’s Jongin hard, but there’s also the curiosity—Jongin’s not exactly versed in sex, and he doesn’t know...he doesn’t know how sex works when it’s not sex with Lu Han.

He hears the rustling of clothes, and they must be Chanyeol’s, because Baekhyun is making a low hum of approval. “‘Not fucking’ my ass,” Jongin thinks sarcastically, as he palms himself through his pajama pants. Jongin curses himself, and the way it’s so easy for him to get aroused, even as he swells under his own touch. He can already feel the tightness in his balls, and the trembles in his thighs.

When Baekhyun says, “I want to see you. Can I?” Jongin imagines Lu Han, looking at him with those hot eyes, asking Jongin to be quiet and then making him when he can’t.

“You’re asking if you can put your fingers up my butt.” Jongin hadn’t thought...he’d always assumed that they were already having sex, not that they were...

The click of the lube, a now familiar sound.

“This is so weird,” Chanyeol says, and Jongin bites his lips, hand stilling so he can listen more carefully. Guilt is eating at him, but not enough to make him move, even if he wishes he could. Then he hears Baekhyun sigh, and the sound reminds him of Lu Han’s breath on the back of his neck, and he clenches, just as Lu Han had taught him.

He manages to bring himself back from the precipice, but he’s still frozen in front of Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s door, and still touching himself over his pants. He hesitates, and then he’s slipping his hand under them, wrapping a hand around his cock and touching tentatively as Chanyeol starts to breathe heavily, gasping ”Fuck,” as the mattress starts to rock.

If Lu Han were here, maybe it would be Jongin on his back, and Jongin with fingers thrusting in and out of his ass, and Jongin who is gasping, and whimpering for more—

He doesn’t remember to stop himself a second time, spilling into his sweats as Chanyeol wails “more,” loud enough that Jongin would have heard it if the door was closed, “p-please just let me come,” and Jongin strokes himself through his orgasm as Chanyeol’s whines reach a fever pitch.

He feels almost sick when he pulls his hand free, wiping it on his thigh and sighing. He hears Baekhyun chuckle, and Chanyeol talking about his hat, and Jongin realizes he’s standing outside his bandmates’ door with jizz on his thighs and at least a month’s worth of embarrassment. He’s not sure how he’s going to manage to look Baekhyun or Chanyeol in the eyes later.

He escapes to the shower, and as he balls his sweats up in a pile to be washed, immediately, he remembers Lu Han, climbing into the shower behind him, offering him rewards for being “a good boy,” and making Jongin wish he was wearing a choker with Lu Han’s name engraved in the leather...

Great, he thinks. He’s hard again.

“Come home, Lu Han,” he whispers, the sound swallowed by the shower spray as he once again takes himself in hand.

“Hey, champ,” Chanyeol says to Jongin as he walks out of the shower, thighs still trembling. Chanyeol’s lounging on the couch in the living room, looking casual. Jongin almost has an aneurysm, because not even half an hour ago, he’d been in front of Chanyeol’s bedroom door and...well. Chanyeol waggles his eyebrows. “You’re looking mighty fine this morning.” Jongin hates that he knows at least half the reason Chanyeol is in such a good mood.

Jongin walks to the kitchen counter, shakily pouring himself a cup of water and wills his pounding heart to slow down. He narrows his eyes at Chanyeol. “Okay. What do you have on me this time?”

“Oh, nothing,” Chanyeol says breezily, too breezily for someone who’d just been fingerfucked by his bandmate, “just...” He turns his phone around to face Jongin, cackling mirthfully. Jongin squints at the screen, then groans.

It’s the music video for MAXSTEP that had just been released three days ago. Jongin had hoped that the other members had forgotten about it but...of course, Chanyeol wouldn’t give up such a golden opportunity to make Jongin’s life miserable. Chanyeol’s paused it on a particularly unflattering frame of Jongin in mid-motion, face contorted into a snarl. “Gold harem pants, huh, Jongin? This might even be worse than that new haircut of yours. Actually, I think you should just take both and go back to the 90s where you belong.” He mimics the dance from ‘U Can’t Touch This’, and Jongin is hard-pressed not to stand up and correct his footing, but that would be letting Chanyeol win, so he suffers through the horrible rendition instead.

“Debut. Frizzball,” Jongin mutters scathingly.

Roger Federer,” Chanyeol retorts, and Jongin can’t think of a smart comeback this time that doesn’t involve spilling the beans about good fuck charms.

“But Federer is very good at hitting balls,” comes another voice, and Jongin spits out his mouthful of water onto the counter. Jongin wipes his face with a sleeve and turns to see Baekhyun there, a smarmy grin on his face. Jongin can’t figure out if that grin is from managing to get Chanyeol off twice with just his fingers, or—“Have you been hitting balls recently, Jongin? Or are your balls the ones being hit?”

“Don’t talk about hitting his balls,” Chanyeol says. “Remember the voice kink theory.”

“I don’t have a voice kink—”

“It could be your voice, Baekhyun. We shouldn’t take chances. And we all have to use this couch, you know,” Chanyeol blithely continues, as Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “Don’t want Jongin to come untouched and leave stains on the sofa.”

“Snapbacks,” Jongin mutters under his breath. Baekhyun cocks his head, and Jongin shakes his head. Thankfully, the front gate to their dorm complex slams shut, and Jongin perks up. “Gotta go,” he says, setting his cup down and running out the dorm before he has to endure even more of Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s lame innuendos.

The first thing Jongin sees is Kevin strutting through the gate in a bright blue scarf and lensless glasses. He’s petting—

“Is that a llama?” Jongin asks, bewildered at Kevin’s sudden appreciation of soft toys, when Lu Han steps out from behind Kevin, resting a hand on the toy’s white fur, and Jongin promptly remembers the Stitch toy that had been stuffed into his mouth by those very hands. Lu Han’s hands had been so soft. Jongin shivers in anticipation.

Kevin looks mildly affronted, changing his hold on the toy so that its face is toward Jongin. Jongin frowns. “No,” Kevin hisses, bird mouth curling into a tiny frown.

“It’s an alpaca.” Yixing is a mix of placating and resigned. “He’s named it Ace,” Yixing says, rolling his eyes. Kevin lovingly adjusts the little pirate hat atop the alpaca’s head. “After himself. How much more narcissistic can you get?” That last part comes out a little too fondly, but everyone has their turn-ons, and Jongin’s not one to judge.

Duizhang is one of those high maintenance types,” Jongdae says, nodding wisely. Kevin glares at him, and Jongdae grins and pretends to preoccupy himself with his luggage.

“I don’t—” Jongin frowns. “Wasn’t Ace your stripper—”

“By the way,” Kevin says pointedly, cutting Jongin off. “We saw the MAXSTEP music video.”

“Nice pants,” Jongdae remarks, looking thoroughly amused.

“Why aren’t you making fun of Lu Han?” Jongin whines, and Jongdae raises one eyebrow as if to say “we’ve been doing that for weeks and we need fresh meat.”

Lu Han is by his side, suddenly, smelling of soap and possibly brandy, and he moves as if to hug Jongin, but instead he stumbles into him, not so subtly sliding a hand up Jongin’s sweater. “Hyung,” Jongin hisses, and Lu Han gurgles, burying his face in Jongin’s shoulder.

Definitely brandy, Jongin thinks, as he grabs Lu Han’s hands. Jongin looks at Yixing accusingly, and Yixing whistles innocently and averts his eyes. “Don’t worry, Jongin-ah,” Lu Han says, and it’s been so long since he’s had Lu Han’s weight pressed against his own that Jongin is unwilling to push him away, even though there are hundreds of fansites just waiting to snap up a good photo and scream about ‘fanservice’ or ‘Lu Han cheating on Sehun’, even though Sehun currently has four girlfriends all over the age of thirty that he calls on a rotating basis and doesn’t even have time for Lu Han.

Speaking of Sehun, Jongin does a half turn and jumps when he sees Sehun leering at him. “Aw, Jongin, your boyfriend missed you,” Sehun says, and it’s like acid in Jongin’s throat.

“I’m not his boyfriend,” Lu Han slurs. “It’s a teacher-student relationship.” Lu Han’s fingers are dragging along the line of his waistband, teasing the skin like he’s trying to simultaneously raise Jongin’s cock and crush Jongin’s heart.

“Weren’t you sleeping in your room?” Jongin asks, trying to change the topic and mask his disappointment, and Sehun rolls his eyes.

“How was I supposed to sleep with Chanyeol-hyung being so loud in the room next to mine?” Sehun inspects his fingernails. “Now what was that you were saying about teachers and students?”

“I had this really hot teacher in high school,” Jongdae says wistfully. “I think my greatest dream, at that time, would have been to have her with a few fingers up my ass as I cried.”

“You say things like ‘at that time’,” Minseok says bemusedly, “like that’s not still your greatest dream.” Minseok flutters his eyelashes. “The others might not understand the filthy things you say when you talk in your sleep, but I do.”

“Park-seonsaengnim, man,” Jongdae says. “What a babe.”

Lu Han’s head comes to rest on Jongin’s shoulder, and Jongin exhales. “I’m taking Lu Han in to rest,” Jongin says, and Lu Han laughs.

“What if I don’t want to rest?” he says, and Jongin narrows his eyes.

“You’ll be asleep in five minutes,” Jongin says, choking on the last word as Lu Han’s hand slips into his pants to squeeze his ass.

“Lovers’ spat,” Jongdae says wistfully. “Lu Han, you should spank him with a yardstick. Jongin, I need to live vicariously through you.”

“It’s not like that,” Jongin says. “We’re just friends. Same as me teaching Chanyeol how to dance. We all...help each other out.”

“You teaching Chanyeol how to dance didn’t defile my bed,” Minseok mutters under his breath, and Jongin goes red from his face to the tips of his toes.

“I’m taking him inside,” Jongin says. “To the living room.”

“I’m not super into watching,” Sehun says bluntly, and then he gives Jongin a knowing look, and Jongin is—well, Jongin is not going to think about it, at all, ever.

Later, when Lu Han has fallen into a cat-nap on the sofa, hair tied up into a little apple bun on top of his head, Jongin corners Minseok in K’s kitchen, as Minseok does arcane things with milk, a few unnamed spices, and hershey’s syrup, that will somehow result in hot chocolate.

“Minseok-hyung,” Jongin mutters, keeping his voice low. Minseok turns around warily, and Jongin gives the best begging puppy look that he can. Minseok takes one tentative step back, looking fearful, like he’s afraid that Jongin’s about to swallow him whole. “Can I—swap tonight—Lu Han-hyung...”

“I’ll sleep in the living room,” Minseok says wearily, rubbing the back of his head. He grins. “I don’t particularly want to deal with drunk Lu Han anyway. He likes to...take off his clothes...”

“Oh.” Jongin feels his throat going dry. He gulps. He’s never been around a tipsy Lu Han before, so this will be interesting. “You could sleep in my—”

“No, no, I’ll stick with the couch,” Minseok says, not even bothering to let Jongin finish his offer to let Minseok use his bed. “There is probably jizz everywhere in that room and I don’t know how Kyungsoo lives like that.”

“We clean very diligently,” Jongin says, mortified. “Well,” he corrects, “Kyungsoo does. But I would never—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Minseok says. “Try not to like, be so loud that I can’t sleep.”


“Just,” Minseok cuts in, hands on his hips, pursing his lips, “you’re buying me new sheets if you soil them this time round. Those white flakes in my hair were most definitely not dandruff and I’m trying not to cry right now as I think about it.” Minseok taps his hands on the counter as the milk starts to bubble. “I think he was anxious.”

“What?” Jongin doesn’t get what that has to do with anything.

“Lu Han,” Minseok says. He stirs his concoction. “On the flight. He was anxious.”

“About what?” Maybe Lu Han doesn’t want to do things with Jongin anymore. Jongin hadn’t really considered that, but it’s possible—

But then he remembers Lu Han’s hands sneaking up his shirt and Lu Han’s whispered innuendo, and his stomach settles, a little, but not enough to ward off the uncomfortable churn completely.

“I don’t know,” Minseok says. “No one knows what Lu Han is thinking. Ever. But it’s probably about you, since it’s always—” He stops. “Never mind. Carry on. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Hurt myself?” Jongin thinks about the bag of toys under Lu Han’s bed. “That’s also a never mind.”

Lu Han rouses from his nap three hours later looking quite disoriented. Jongin’s been sitting at the foot of the sofa for those three hours, wondering how to...talk to Lu Han about everything, and he almost doesn’t notice, until Lu Han crawls over to him and claps his hands over Jongin’s eyes, and then he lets out a loud yelp.

“H-hyung. You’re awake?”

“Mhm,” Lu Han says, unhanding Jongin. He yawns. “Miss me?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Jongin wants to reply, but then he remembers what Lu Han had said himself about this being a teacher-student arrangement, and he presses his lips together. “Yeah, I guess.”

Lu Han pouts. “You guess? What about those texts you sent me?” Lu Han tries to get off the sofa, but his legs give out underneath him and Jongin grabs Lu Han by the arm and pulls him back onto the couch, feeling Lu Han’s firm biceps in his hands.

“How much did you have to drink on the plane?” Jongin asks instead. “You never drink. You said you have low tolerance. Why did you drink today?”

“I wasn’t drunk,” Lu Han protests, undoing his hair and running a hand through it. Jongin reaches up, brushing a few strands of hair out of Lu Han’s eyes. “I was only pretending so they’d leave us alone—look, it worked.”

Indeed, all the other members are either back in their rooms and resting, or they’ve gone down to the practise rooms, even on one of their rare evenings off. That thought alone doesn’t quite comfort Jongin though. Lu Han’s face had been flushed, and Minseok’s words from before are still ringing in his head. “Alright,” Jongin says hesitantly. “If you’re sure. Are you okay now?”

“I’m okay in the sense that I’m not drunk,” Lu Han murmurs. He looks up at Jongin, lips curling into a gentle smile. “But I’m not okay in the sense that I’ve missed you.” He links his fingers with Jongin’s. “I was really hoping to be greeted in the cowgirl skirt, to be honest.”

“I was just kidding about that,” Jongin says, enjoying the feeling of Lu Han’s palm flush with his own. “I—” Jongin studies the way Lu Han’s shirt sleeves are pushed up, revealing his forearms. Lu Han has nice forearms. Lu Han has nice everything. “Tonight...”

“What about it?” Lu Han asks, and his thumb is rubbing small circles on top of Jongin’s.

“I asked Minseok-hyung, and he said...that we could have the room,” Jongin says. “If you want—”

“I just said I missed you, didn’t I?” Lu Han leans forward, until his nose is almost touching Jongin’s. He quirks an eyebrow. “Besides, I’m not quite sure we’re done with your lessons.”

“My lessons,” Jongin says, the twist in his gut jabbing him once more. Of course. “Right. They’re just lessons, aren’t they?” he murmurs, hoping Lu Han picks up on his disappointment.

If Lu Han does, he doesn’t let it show. Instead, he smiles comfortingly at Jongin, bumping their noses together. “You wanted to be taught, and someone needed to teach you, my young padawan.” Lu Han springs up from the sofa, cheeks tinted a rosy pink colour, and takes Jongin by the wrist, dragging Jongin towards the room. “If the room’s free, then I fully intend to take advantage of it tonight.”

>>part v



December 2012

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