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maayacolabackup—
The dance studio is empty when Jongin gets there. It figures, he thinks, because this is one of their very rare break periods, save for him and Lu Han, of course, because they have MAXSTEP promotions, and their comeback timetables still haven’t been finalised.
It could become a problem, though, if this feeling at the base of his torso arises every single fucking time he hears this song.
The bass reverberates around the studio. Jongin’s getting hard, again. Lu Han’s method with the...cock ring hadn’t done much other that give Jongin the hardest orgasm he’s had since his discovery of his penile problems.
Not that that’s anything to complain about, but Jongin’s meant to be learning how to control it, not come even harder. Maybe that’s something that he can be trained to do, Jongin thinks, as he scrolls the song back to the beginning and takes his spot in the middle of the dance room, focussing on himself in the mirror (and not his crotch).
He doesn’t get too far. The moment the chorus starts, the door to the studio clicks, and Jongin whirls around to see a hooded figure walk in—but he doesn’t even need to see the face to know exactly who it is.
“H-hyung,” Jongin stutters, mouth going dry. “Good morning.”
“I thought you’d be here,” Lu Han says, pushing the hoodie cap back to reveal a smirk. “How’d the cock ring turn out?” Lu Han’s smile stretches mischievously across his face, like he knows the answer already, so Jongin doesn’t skirt the issue.
“I—” Jongin gulps. “I almost blacked out.”
“Good,” Lu Han says, trailing his hands over Jongin’s hips, pressing just hard enough to tingle but too light to satisfy Jongin’s craving for his touch. “Training should be fun.”
“You have a weird definition of fun.” Jongin almost chokes on the words as Lu Han’s hands creep up under his sweaty tee, and start to tease at his perspiration-slick skin.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Lu Han replies, tongue peeking out playfully to lick at the corner of his lips, and Jongin wonders what Lu Han’s tongue might feel like in his mouth. “MAXSTEP? Let’s run through the routine one more time.”
Jongin takes a desperate gulp of air and nods as Lu Han steps back, the lingering feeling of Lu Han’s fingertips driving him to distraction even as Lu Han bends over to restart the music.
Jongin normally practises late into the nights with Yixing, but this...this reminds him all over again of the first time he’d met Lu Han; this small, pretty, fragile-looking Chinese boy who couldn’t possibly be an entire three years older than him. It also reminds him of later, of the first time they’d rehearsed together for their dance teaser, when Lu Han had proven there was more to him than meets the eye.
Jongin had thought Lu Han was beautiful, then. Or something.
Now, though, he knows that Lu Han is just as devious as he is beautiful, and definitely not fragile—and somehow that makes the attraction that Jongin has continuously tried to ignore for so long coil even tighter and heavier in his belly.
“Don’t get distracted,” Lu Han says, lower than usual, and Jongin shivers as he shifts into the beginning of the choreography sequence. He meets Lu Han’s eyes in the mirror, and flushes at his knowing gaze. “You look a little tense.”
He’s laughing. Jongin is painfully hard, and Lu Han is laughing.
“Gee,” Jongin says faintly, “I wonder why.”
Lu Han gives up on the dance, and turns to look at Jongin face to face. The corners of his eyes crinkle. “Am I making things...hard for you, Jongin?” Jongin doesn’t get a chance to answer before Lu Han’s eyes dart down to below Jongin’s waist and find the answer there. “Oh, in both senses, I see.”
“It was...the hardest I’ve come in two years,” Jongin mutters, barely audible over the music. Jongin’s not sure, he’s not sure about anything, but just...in the shower taking off the ring, imagining doing things, imagining having things done to him by Lu Han’s hands, and Lu Han’s lips...
Lu Han’s grin widens, and he takes one step closer to Jongin. “Did you think about me?” Lu Han purrs, and Jongin takes an involuntary step back. “Don’t be shy, tell hyung everything.”
“Maybe,” Jongin says. He takes one more step back, trying to put some distance between the two of them (mainly because if Lu Han gets any closer, he might poke Lu Han in the thigh with his fucking boner), but Lu Han is persistent in his advances. The erection he’d gotten from Lu Han’s first lesson had been kind of different from all the other times—relief afterwards had been much less painful, and the comfort of knowing that he could trust Lu Han and Lu Han knew what he was doing... “I-I don’t know, hyung, but...” Jongin gulps. “I kind of...liked it when you were in control. I think it helped. Like I only had to think about—” He forgets the rest of the sentence.
“You know what?” Lu Han says after a pause, licking his lips. He places a hand on Jongin’s shoulder, then trails a finger down to Jongin’s collarbones, drawing patterns on his chest. Jongin shivers as Lu Han’s index finger brushes over his nipple. “I think it might be time for lesson two.”
“Lesson—” Jongin inhales sharply. “Hyung, I don’t think—”
“It’s a good idea,” Lu Han finishes. “Trust me.” He clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth. “Leave the thinking to experts.”
Then Jongin finds himself bumping lightly into the mirror, Lu Han’s knee wedged between his own, nudging Jongin’s thighs further apart. The glass is cold against his shoulder blades, cooling the skin there as Lu Han’s touch makes other skin, more sensitive skin, burn hotter.
Lu Han’s hands venture lower, skating across the waistband of his pants, teasing with alternating scrapes with his nails and brushes with the pads of his fingers, like he’s trying to drive Jongin insane.
“What are you doing?” Jongin asks, panicked, as Lu Han slowly peels Jongin’s briefs down his thighs. It tickles, and Jongin’s so hard already that he whimpers as Lu Han’s knuckles brush his dick.
“Getting started,” Lu Han says, backing Jongin up so that he’s completely flush against the mirror. “Lesson two: how to resist coming all over the dance studio mirrors.”
“I think this lesson might be a fail, then,” Jongin gasps as Lu Han’s thumb ghosts over the dripping head of his cock. Even as his cock is hardening and his body wants more, wants Lu Han commanding him, the rational part of his mind is telling him to stop. “Hyung, I really don’t—someone could walk in—”
“No one else will be here today,” Lu Han says, getting down on his knees in front of Jongin, staring up at Jongin with wide, innocent-looking eyes. “Plus, it’s not exactly news to anyone. Taeminnie’s photo made the rounds, you know. Let them walk in on us.”
“Hyung, please don’t—” Jongin’s not sure what Lu Han’s going to do, but his breath on Jongin’s exposed cock is too much stimulation, stomach dipping as his thighs tremble in anticipation.
“You said it helped,” Lu Han breathes, teasing at the tip with a flick of the tongue. Jongin groans incomprehensibly. “I just want to help you, Jongin-ah, I’ll do whatever you want, and if that involves dominating...”
“Well—” Jongin’s protests are cut off when Lu Han grips Jongin’s hips and takes Jongin’s entire cock into his mouth.
“Fuck,” Jongin groans, knees shaking with the exertion of having to hold up a body on the brink of orgasm. Not even dancing for hours on end could make Jongin’s knees buckle like this. This is a skill that only Lu Han has, fingertips pressing into Jongin’s hips to hold him still as his mouth makes Jongin want to move. “Yeah. Yeah, please, hyung, teach—”
Lu Han licks, tip of his tongue darting in and out from between pretty pink lips, lapping up Jongin’s precome, fingers curling into Jongin’s skin with a force that’s sure to leave bruises the next day. Lu Han hums gently, vibrations travelling straight to Jongin’s cock, and Jongin throws his head back painfully against the mirror.
It’s in this moment, by some miracle, that Jongin remember’s Chanyeol’s words about dance practise room duty, and he freezes up.
“I can’t—” Jongin manages to breathe, threading fingers through Lu Han’s tousled hair, yanking Lu Han’s head back. “I’m gonna—can we move somewhere where—” Lu Han moves one hand off Jongin’s hips and makes a tight circle with his thumb and index finger at the base of Jongin’s cock, one eyebrow raised inquisitively, and Jongin inhales sharply “—I won’t come all over the fucking mirrors?”
“Well,” Lu Han says, grinning, “I think we can move onto lesson three at another location.” Lu Han chuckles, and it’s more hot air on Jongin’s spit-slick cock, and Jongin shudders. “Should I be offended that my mouth wasn’t enough to make you lose it?”
“No,” Jongin says. “That was—” Jongin is pretty sure for a moment there, he’d glimpsed heaven, so it’s probably more a result of Jongin’s absolute exhaustion than of Lu Han’s— And maybe he shouldn’t think about it, when Lu Han is smirking up at him from his knees, one thumb rubbing circles into his pelvic bone as the other keeps him from shooting his load into Lu Han’s face. Maybe he shouldn’t think about how hot Lu Han looks like that either.
“Let’s take this somewhere else, then, shall we?” Lu Han says, and then he’s standing up, tucking Jongin back in with a fond little pat to his clothed erection. “My place is closer.”
“They’re next door to each other,” Jongin croaks, and Lu Han’s smile is almost blinding in its pure evil.
“But my place has more...toys...” Lu Han says, “I’ll make it a playtime you’ll never forget,” and Jongin’s a little worried about himself that he almost comes from the sound of the mysterious promise alone.
—
It’s not the first time he’s been in Lu Han’s room, but it is the first time he’s been in Lu Han’s room naked. Jongin’s super glad that none of the members questioned his sudden appearance at the M dorms...but that’s because the only other person that saw him come into the dorms was Yixing, and Jongin’s quite sure Yixing knows exactly what he’s here for.
Lu Han’s toy collection is...impressive.
And entirely not the kind of toys that Jongin was expecting.
Well, some of them are quite fluffy (like those pink handcuffs), but for the most part...
“Where the hell did you even get all this?” Jongin asks, picking up something that looks like a riding crop. “I don’t think they sell this stuff at regular toy stores here...”
“I had quite accommodating friends,” Lu Han mutters absently, pushing Jongin down onto the floor after he throws his pillows and a blanket down. He straddles Jongin, taking out a small bottle of some mysterious liquid and a quite alarmingly large purple phallic shaped object. “They were presents.”
“And would I happen to know these friends?” Jongin asks, thinking of a certain Park Chanyeol, but Lu Han shakes his head and places the toys on the empty bedspread next to Jongin.
“Yonsei, my first year in Korea. They were birthday presents from my floormates, as a joke—remember the Hello Kitty soft toys you saw in Yixing and Kevin’s room? They hid the toys inside kitty’s head. Nice surprise.”
Oh. “Oh.” Lu Han’s moving on top of Jongin now, leaning over so that his lips graze Jongin’s cheek, then press gently against Jongin’s right ear. Lu Han smells of cologne—the same cologne that he’d gotten while he was shopping with Jongin during their trip to Beijing—and his breath, moist on Jongin’s ear, reminds Jongin all too well that not even thirty minutes ago, those lips were wrapped around his cock, sucking him to near completion.
Lu Han chuckes, throaty and low. “Lesson three,” he whispers, and Jongin bucks upwards, feeling an unbearable surge of want. “Let’s see how long we can play before Jongin junior here decides he’s had enough fun, hmm? I’ll take control. You’re okay with that?”
Jongin nods hastily. He’s pretty certain that at this rate, he’s not going to last even another minute.
“So? Strip,” Lu Han demands, pulling away from Jongin and swinging one leg over so he’s no longer on top of Jongin. Jongin stares at him, unmoving for five excruciatingly long seconds before he scrambles to comply, hands tugging hastily at the pants that can’t take themselves off fast enough. Lu Han watches him, eyes devouring each bit of newly exposed skin, and his lips curl up when Jongin’s dick, red and throbbing, flops out of his briefs and slaps his tummy. “You’re so close.”
Lu Han’s words remind Jongin that, yeah, he is, and after he kicks off his sweats he reaches down to touch himself, which has Lu Han moving closer to grab his hand. “Ah ah ah,” Lu Han says. “The point is not to come, Jongin-ah.” He drops a kiss onto Jongin’s shoulder, and Jongin shivers. He nips a tiny part of Jongin’s skin, just above Jongin’s collarbone, and the sharp pinprick of pain sends sensations straight to Jongin’s already-erect cock.
“Hyung,” Jongin breathes, squirming under Lu Han’s left hand, which slides up and down his ribs, in a way that both tickles and makes Jongin want to beg for more.
“Patience,” Lu Han murmurs, biting gently on Jongin’s earlobe, then kissing down the line of Jongin’s jaw. He sucks a spot right at Jongin’s jugular, right hand still clamped tightly around Jongin’s own, left hand wandering from Jongin’s chest to his abs, then even lower, barely grazing the tip of Jongin’s cock. “Be patient, Jongin.”
Jongin grunts in frustration, wrenching his hand out of Lu Han’s grip. He can feel Lu Han’s smile against the skin of his throat, hot and pleased, and Jongin lifts his hips, seeking any kind of friction, but all he finds is air as Lu Han moves himself just out of reach. Jongin’s sweating, every cell in his body tuned into Lu Han’s movements, and when Lu Han takes his touch completely away, Jongin whines at the loss. “There, there,” Lu Han says, pushing Jongin’s bangs out of his face and running his hands through the damp hair. “You’re doing so well, sweetie.”
Jongin swears at Lu Han’s condescending tone, but the swears change tempo when Lu Han curls a hand around him and starts to stroke, torturously slow. Jongin forces himself not to thrust into Lu Han’s loosely clenched fist. “I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” Lu Han says. “Hold it. Try your best.”
He does, but he’s too strung out, and he’s been hard for too long, and it feels like both hours and seconds before he’s spilling over Lu Han’s fist, chest heaving and body shaking.
Jongin glances over at the alarm clock by Lu Han’s bed and registers the time.
“That was six minutes,” Jongin breathes. “I—I think that’s pretty good?”
“Pretty good,” Lu Han affirms, wiping his hands off on Jongin’s t-shirt, a glint in his eyes, “but who says we’re stopping after one?”
Jongin sits up, the insides of his thighs rubbing lightly against the bunched dirty shirt underneath him, the contact sending a new wave of tingles through his body. Lu Han takes Jongin’s cock between his palms, stroking it up and down, and even though it’s still raw and tingling from having just shot off a load, Jongin can feel the pressure building yet again.
“Turn around,” Lu Han says, grabbing Jongin’s waist in an attempt to flip Jongin over. Jongin flings the shirt off to the side and rolls over, his cock brushing against the rough carpet, and he winces, the friction too much. “Get on your hands and knees.”
“What are you doing?” Jongin asks, but obeys Lu Han anyway. Lu Han grabs Jongin by the ass, massaging in gentle circles, as he pulls the cheeks apart. Lu Han hums, and his following exhale makes Jongin jump, startled, as it ghosts across his rim. “What—”
“Something new,” Lu Han says. “Just relax.”
“How am I supposed to relax when you’re breathing on my butt?” Jongin pants, the kneading movement of Lu Han’s fingers a dull, constant pleasure that bleeds up his back and down into his already quivering thighs. Lu Han’s hands disappear from his backside, and Jongin feels humiliated, on his hands and knees on the floor, ass up in the air, with no idea what Lu Han is doing.
There’s the sound of a lid opening, some shuffling, and then there’s a cold liquid trickling between his buttcheeks, down his buttcrack. The sensation is so foreign, so new, that Jongin has to bite his lip to stop himself from moaning loudly and obscenely. What Jongin presumes are Lu Han’s fingers start spreading the liquid in small circles around Jongin’s entrance, dipping in shallowly. Jongin tightens instinctively around Lu Han’s finger, unused to the intrusion.
“Hyung—”
“Relax,” Lu Han says, slapping Jongin on the ass. Lu Han’s lubed fingers find their way to Jongin’s balls, and he gives them a gentle squeeze and tug in the hollow of his cupped palms before gripping Jongin’s cock and giving more small strokes. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Not at all,” Jongin says, but he does, and he groans as Lu Han teasingly tightens his hold on Jongin’s cock. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Then let me,” Lu Han says. “I promise to be a good teacher and take care of you.”
Jongin breathes in sharply, clenching the muscles of his butt. His refractory period is usually longer, but it seems to have disappeared today, maybe because of Lu Han’s ministrations, or maybe because he’s never been this turned on in his life before, ever. Jongin’s not sure if that’s a good or bad thing—but from the way things are progressing, it doesn’t seem like Lu Han will let him stop, even after a second orgasm.
Lu Han reaches up and takes Jongin’s nipple between his fingers, pinching hard. Jongin hisses. Lu Han settles back, his finger probing around Jongin’s entrance, slicked with more lube, and then he’s dipping in, not shallowly, but until the first knuckle, then the second, until Jongin can feel Lu Han’s entire finger inside him, a strangeness that he’s never experienced before.
“You alright?” Lu Han asks, squeezing Jongin’s backside with his free hand, and Jongin gulps and clenches his sphincter muscles around Lu Han’s finger, before nodding and humming a muffled ‘yes’. “Good. I’m going to put a second finger in.”
It’s at this point that Jongin has a slight out-of-body experience, a photo-clear image of how he must look—shaking and barely holding himself together on all fours, his bandmate behind him with a finger stuck up his ass—flashing in front of his eyes, and he flushes and cringes in complete embarrassment.
But it only makes him harder.
Lu Han’s second finger presses inside, and Jongin lets out an obscene moan. The questing pads of Lu Han’s fingers crook down, and they find...something, and whatever it is sends a quake through Jongin’s entire body, similar to the way he shivers when cold sneaks between the collar of his coat and his scarf, except it also makes his cock leak. Then the fingers are slipping out, and Jongin pushes back, wanting more of them, and more of that weird feeling.
“Spread your legs apart more,” Lu Han says, nudging Jongin’s knees out wider. Jongin rests on his elbows, his arms shaking from supporting his weight for so long, and cranes his neck to see Lu Han holding that purple dildo from before, frowning in apparent concentration. “This might...stretch a little.”
“Is that going in—fuck, Lu Han-hyung,” Jongin says, and Lu Han presses on hand to the bottom of his spine and massages it soothingly.
“You can take it, Jongin,” he says, and he sounds too calm and too angelic as he increases the pressure, pushing the toy deeper.
Jongin can only make garbled noises in response, drops of sweat rolling down his forehead to his jaw, and it happens before he can stop it, the waves of his orgasm hitting him out of nowhere as the purple dildo bottoms out inside of him, constantly pushing down on that spot and out on Jongin’s inner walls as he spasms around it. There’s a slow burn, pinpricks of pain and heat near his entrance as he’s stretched by the toy, and it’s a strange new sensation, but his extended orgasm is making him lightheaded and incoherent and good god, he wants this more than anything right now.
Lu Han doesn’t wait, just begins a slow thrust with the toy, and Jongin muffles a sob by biting down on his lip as he tries to keep supporting himself with wobbling limbs. “It’ll be easier to control yourself now that you’ve come a few times,” Lu Han says soothingly. “It’ll get easier.”
Jongin isn’t sure he believes him, especially not when Lu Han is speeding up his thrusts, calming hand now serving more as an anchor as Jongin starts to move back into it.
The third time he comes, the edges of his vision fade out, and when he swims back to the shore of consciousness, he’s on his back, Lu Han sucking marks into the skin of his belly as his hands fist in Lu Han’s hair.
“Okay,” Lu Han says, strands of hair plastered to his forehead from exertion. He puts a gentle hand over Jongin’s, unravelling Jongin’s fingers from his hair. “That was seven minutes. I think we can make it even longer.”
Jongin, barely coherent, can only groan in what he hopes sounds like approval as Lu Han hitches Jongin’s legs over his shoulders and pushes the dildo in once more, to the hilt this time. The slow burn that was there the first time is now a faint tingle, the dildo sliding in a little too easily into his well-stretched hole.
“We’re gonna aim for ten,” Lu Han says, pulling out and thrusting in again, free hand curling loosely around Jongin’s cock. Jongin garbles something out, sweating and aching, every touch blazing on his skin. Lu Han fondles Jongin’s balls, tugging at them, and thrusts in again with the dildo. Jongin bites his lip, moaning, and reaches up to entwine his fingers in Lu Han’s hair again, preparing to shoot—
When Lu Han backs away completely and pulls the dildo out, two fingers jabbing the stretch of skin between Jongin’s balls and entrance.
The sudden movement startles Jongin, and he almost comes from the shock itself, but Lu Han digs his fingers into that spot harder, curling his other fingers around the base of Jongin’s cock, squeezing hard, and Jongin’s being brought back from the teetering brink to a safer place.
“I—” Jongin croaks out in confusion, “How did you do that?”
“It’s a little something I learned in college,” Lu Han says proudly, stroking Jongin’s cock again. “Used to stop me from coming too early during tantric sex sessions with my
Korean tutor.” He shakes his head fondly in reminiscence. “Between that and the constant vocab quizzes, we used to go for hours.”
“It—it worked,” Jongin says. He’s never been able to hold off an orgasm for this long before, and there’s no doubt that whatever Lu Han’s doing, it’s working. “I didn’t come.”
“Good boy,” Lu Han praises, looking pleased. “I’m not going to let you come.” He picks the dildo up and pushes it inside, pumping Jongin’s cock furiously. Jongin lets out a long, loud keening sound as he bucks his hips up and arches his back, Lu Han’s unpredictable actions driving him closer to the edge of that cliff than he’s ever been without falling off of it.
Every time Jongin feels like he’s teetering on the brink again, writhing under Lu Han’s masterful hands, Lu Han pulls out and presses that spot, pulling Jongin back to reality. True to his words, Jongin doesn’t come. It happens again, and again, and again, until Jongin’s tearing up and practically crying from how raw his cock is, frustrated at having been edged and not experiencing the release that usually follows.
“Feel good?” Lu Han asks, smirking. Jongin grits his teeth.
“Please, hyung, I—” Lu Han pulls out “—fuck, please, let me—” It’s almost infuriating how Lu Han can tell exactly when Jongin’s close. Jongin reaches down, unable to resist any longer, to finish himself off, but Lu Han takes his wrists and pins them down to the carpet, tutting.
“Tsk tsk, bad boy, we’re working on not letting you come,” Lu Han says. He loosens his grip on Jongin’s wrists. “But if you’re that desperate...”
Lu Han roughly grabs Jongin’s cock and points it up towards Jongin’s face.
“What are you—”
Jongin trails off into a sharp gasp as Lu Han rubs circles with the pad of his thumb over the underside of Jongin’s cock, probing at Jongin’s entrance with the dildo. This time, there’s no edging—just a constant, pounding rhythm—and then there’s that spot a few inches inside Jongin that Lu Han’s been avoiding, but now he’s hitting it directly with the tip of the dildo and the sheer pleasure is too much to take.
Jongin blows his load spectacularly onto his own face with a curl of his toes and a long, shuddering groan.
“A little taste of your own medicine,” Lu Han says cheerily, as Jongin splutters and wipes his eyes. His ‘medicine’, so to speak, is rather salty. “You’re quite the distance shooter.” Lu Han reaches a hand up to Jongin’s face and wipes most of the mess off, trailing a finger down to Jongin’s chest and joining the dots of come that have landed there. “Ready to go again?”
By the sixth time Lu Han teases Jongin repeatedly to the threshold and finally lets him come, wave after wave of orgasm coursing through Jongin’s worn out body, there’s no longer anything coming out of his cock.
“You’re dry,” Lu Han remarks, looking at the clock. “Thirty minutes this time. I’m impressed. I think you may be my best student yet.”
“You sure I haven’t been your only student?” Jongin asks between gasps. Lu Han grins, putting the dildo aside, scooting down so that his head is in between Jongin’s legs. Lu Han grabs Jongin’s thighs and spreads them apart, licking a stripe up the underside of Jongin’s cock. Jongin squirms. “H-hyung. We should—we should stop, it’s been hours—”
“—just a bit longer. A little reward for you,” Lu Han says, breath hot on Jongin’s cock. Any and all of Jongin’s protests are promptly forgotten as Jongin grabs Lu Han’s head and arches his hips so Lu Han’s lips brush against his cock. “Eager, are we?”
“Shut up,” Jongin grumbles.
Lu Han doesn’t say anything back, just smirks and takes Jongin’s cock into his mouth, swallowing as the tip hits the back of his throat, no teasing—and Jongin loses himself for the umpteenth time in sheer, unbridled pleasure.
—
“Had a run in with a vampire, did we?” Chanyeol asks when Jongin creeps quietly into the dorm at half-past-midnight.
“Why the fuck are you awake?” Jongin asks, and Chanyeol laughs, turning on the lights. Jongin squints until his eyes adjust, and then he glowers at Chanyeol, who is wearing pajamas that make him look like Tigger from Winnie the Pooh and shouldn’t have room to make fun of anyone.
“Jongdae called and said Lu Han had basically eaten you alive,” is his reply, and Jongin tries, in vain, to pull the neck of the sweatshirt Lu Han’s lent him higher. Unfortunately, this just reveals a slice of Jongin’s stomach, which is equally dotted with bite marks, and Chanyeol gives a low whistle. “Damn.”
“Just shut up,” Jongin says. “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”
“Do you think Baekhyun would train me if I had—”
“—I’m going to bed,” Jongin says, and he tries not to think about Chanyeol and Baekhyun doing anything at all like what he's just done with Lu Han.
—
“Jongin looks so well-fucked we might have to give Lu Han the title of EXO’s best dick,” Jongdae says when they all meet for a joint rehearsal the next morning in preparation for SM Town. Jongdae finds Jongin and Yixing talking over a slight change in the ‘Two Moons’ choreo, and proceeds to be his usual charming self. “Maybe Kevin’s time on the throne is coming to an end.”
Jongin doesn’t bother to inform them that Lu Han’s dick hadn’t even come into the equation last night. It’s not like he and Lu Han are sleeping together. It’s more that Lu Han is...a particularly skilled teacher, and Jongin is his attentive and completely strung out pupil.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Yixing murmurs demurely, tucking a bit of hair behind his ear as he smirks.
“I’ve seen duizhang naked,” Jongdae says. “It’s not that big.” He sounds unsure of himself, though.
“He’s a grower, not a shower,” Yixing says wisely. “Whatever you saw is nothing compared to what he’s packing if you know how to get him...excited.”
“What does he have then,” Jongin mutters, “a tree trunk?”
“Well,” Yixing muses, “now that you mention it, sometimes it really does feel like my ass is being—”
“A whole new meaning to ‘planting your seed’,” Jongdae adds maliciously, because he likes the tortured look on Jongin’s face.
“I wasn’t really asking!” Jongin says, covering his ears.
“Sometimes I hear them through the wall.” Jongdae’s shit eating grin is so wide that Jongin barely refrains from punching the huge target. “Deeper, Ace, split me open!”
“He likes me to call him Ace when he wears the mini-skirts,” Yixing explains defensively. “I think it’s his stripper name.”
“There was also something about a happy road too,” Minseok adds when he joins them, looking scandalised.
“You mean a happy trail? Oh yeah, duizhang’s is impressive. I thought I was looking at the Amazon jungle,” Jongdae finishes.
“This is possibly the worst day of my life,” Jongin says, as Jongdae seats himself on the stairs, crossing his legs, and literally pats himself on the back with an extra smarmy smile.
“Yo,” Sehun says, walking over and plopping down on the stairs next to Jongdae. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol make their way over shortly after too, having just finished the rehearsal run of DJ’s Got Us Fallin’ In Love. “Are we on break now?”
Lu Han steps out from behind Chanyeol, smiling gently, and Jongin’s breath involuntarily hitches in his throat.
There’s no doubt that Lu Han’s worn out—Jongin can see it in the dark circles under his eyes, and the way that his movements are held back, kind of sloppy. Heck, Jongin had woken up this morning with a dull ache in his backside, dark bruises and red bite marks dotting his stomach and neck, and an extra sensitive, painful-to-touch cock—and he’d been lying down gripping Lu Han’s hair for the most part of yesterday. Lu Han had been the one doing all the work, teaching and guiding Jongin through the steps like a real teacher. And after those dance rehearsals on practically no sleep, he must be exhausted.
But in Jongin’s eyes, Lu Han’s glowing.
“Oi Jongin, is that a phone in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” Chanyeol asks, waggling his eyebrows with a leering smile.
“Wow,” Sehun remarks, looking Jongin up and down. His eyes settle on the marks on Jongin’s collarbone, and Jongin moves his hand to try cover them. “Rough night, I see. I think I might even be jealous.” Sehun pouts at Lu Han, who just gives a breezy smile and moves to stand next to Jongin.
“Jongin, you should be careful,” Jongdae says, looking pointedly at Lu Han, “I hear devil sprites maintain their youthful appearance by drinking the blood of virgins,” he mock whispers, eyes wide.
“If Jongin was a virgin, he’s not one anymore,” Chanyeol says, waggling his eyebrows. “Thoroughly debauched. He came in last night looking like he’d been mauled by a bear.”
“Those are a nice set of marks,” Jongdae says. “Lu Han-hyung, do you have a secret set of fangs?”
“I’m older than you,” Lu Han says, flicking Jongdae on the head. “You’re being disrespectful to your elders.”
“But Jongdae looks older than everyone,” Chanyeol pipes in. “Creaky-jointed Jongdae. He was stiffer than Jongin’s dick while dancing today, if that’s even possible. Maybe we should ship him off to a retirement home.”
“Like you should be judging his dancing,” Yixing says, rolling his eyes. He pats Jongdae on the shoulder. “Leave our dancing machine alone.”
“Besides,” Jongdae says, “I politely didn’t mention your set of inappropriately located hickies, and this is how you repay me, Park?”
“EXO, MAMA stage rehearsal!”
“Well, I hate to interrupt what I’m sure is going to be fascinating insight into Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s sex life,” Sehun says dispassionately, “but duty calls.”
“We don’t have a sex life—” Chanyeol blusters, and Jongdae laughs loudly and incredulously over the rest of Chanyeol’s protests and walks away.
Yixing actually looks genuinely disappointed, which Jongin is carefully not thinking too hard about, but they all shift toward the stage. Chanyeol hangs back, about to taunt Jongin again, but Lu Han grabs the back of Jongin’s shirt, pulling him backward and into Lu Han’s chest. Jongin gulps, and turns around, looking directly into Lu Han’s eyes, which are still lively and bright despite the general exhaustion written in the lines of his face. Lu Han’s hand releases the fabric, and moves up, skating along the bumps of Jongin’s spine until stalling between his shoulders. Jongin shivers. He leans forward, and Jongin holds his breath.
“Indonesia next week,” Lu Han whispers in Jongin’s ear, hand sliding up and lingering on the nape of Jongin’s neck. A finger trails down to press at a particularly dark bruise in the hollow of Jongin’s collarbone. “My hotel room, after daytime rehearsals. Take a shower before you come. We’ll start lesson four.”
Jongin can see Chanyeol making retching motions out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t care less. His heart twinges as Lu Han’s soft fingers break away from his skin, and then Lu Han’s bounding away to wind his arm around Yixing’s waist as they head off to the main stage. That’s right, he thinks. It’s just a lesson, nothing more.
And yet, Jongin can’t anticipate it enough.
He spends the next week getting off with the pure memory of Lu Han’s lessons. The bruises and scratches never really disappear, because Jongin doesn’t let them, keeping the bruises on his own skin in the most inconspicuous places, all the while pretending it’s Lu Han’s hands stroking him off to an all-too-fast completion.
“Damn, Jongin,” Chanyeol says, on the fifth day. “If only your stamina lasted as long as those hickies.”
—
Jakarta is humid and several degrees too hot for Jongin’s liking. Jongin steps off the plane and instantly wishes there was a pool of ice somewhere that he could jump into, but at least the heat’s distracting him from other things, such as his very inconvenient onstage boners—and the thought of what’s awaiting him that night in Lu Han’s hotel room.
The moment rehearsals end, Jongin rushes off to his room to shower off the grime and sweat, just like Lu Han had asked. Before he knows it, he’s standing in front of hotel room 0420, clutching the knocker hesitantly.
Jongin worries his lower lip. Lu Han had told him to be here. They’d decided on it, and he’d been waiting for this moment for a week. He should knock now, so Lu Han can let him in, and they can progress with the ‘lessons’, but...
He needn’t have worried so much. The door flies open, and Lu Han’s standing there, wearing only a loose white tank top and shorts, like he’s been anticipating Jongin. Jongin jumps back in shock and gives a little smile, trying not to stare at Lu Han’s defined arms. “H-hyung. Hey.”
“Hey. I was waiting for you.” Lu Han takes Jongin by the wrist and attempts to pull him into the room. “You ready?”
Jongin falters. “Just like that? You’re not going to—”
“What,” Lu Han says, “did you want me to pour you a glass of champagne and give you flowers?” He laughs to himself, and Jongin can’t seem to take his eyes off of Lu Han’s mouth. “Sorry, Jongin-ah, you’re a bit underaged for the champagne, and I’m fresh out of roses.”
“No, I just—” Jongin guesses there’s nothing to talk about, really. It’s not like anything about this arrangement isn’t transparent; between them, and to everyone else in EXO. It’s not anything serious. Well, Jongin’s problem is rather serious, but Lu Han is being a good friend, and Jongin is not trying to make things difficult. “It’s fine. I’m ready.”
“Good.” Lu Han smiles. “Come in here, I’ve got everything prepared. Hopefully Yixing won’t come back unexpectedly. I’ll lock the door.”
“Prepared?” Jongin asks, and he’s glad his voice only wavers a little. “What kind of things did you have to...prepare?”
“You’d see if you got out of the hallway and came inside,” Lu Han says, tapping Jongin with his index finger on the nose, which makes Lu Han laugh again. Jongin really likes Lu Han’s laugh, and all the lines it creates around his mouth. Lu Han’s laugh is also familiar, and it relaxes him enough that this time, when Lu Han outstretches his other hand and tugs on his wrist, he falls over the threshold and lets Lu Han hit the lock button on the automated door behind him.
Jongin enters the room, and there are two yoga mats laid out side by side. Lu Han smiles that angelic smile of his. “Lesson four: kegel exercises. Plus a little something else to help with the heat.”
Jongin frowns, pursing his lips. “That sounds...dangerous. What’s a kegel?”
“You know,” Lu Han says, lying down on the yoga mat. He arches his hips up, and Jongin does a double take and stumbles backwards, falling over his feet and onto the bed. “Working your peeing muscles. Clench and relax.”
“Peeing muscles. My peeing muscles?” Lu Han nods in all seriosity. His hair falls into his angelic face, and his eyes are alight with joy at his own brilliance. Jongin squints. This wasn’t quite what he was expecting. “And this is supposed to help how?”
Lu Han rolls his eyes and drags Jongin down viciously onto the yoga mat. Jongin meets the ground with a thump, narrowly avoiding landing on top of Lu Han. His heartbeat increases, but he wills it to slow down, despite the fact that he can still feel the warmth of Lu Han’s fingers on the skin of his arm. “I dunno, I read it somewhere online, and the internet’s always trustworthy, right? Now come on, be a good boy and lift your hips.”
“I really—” Lu Han does a pushup off the mat and firmly grips Jongin’s hips, pulling them off the ground. Jongin’s protest dies in the back of his throat because all he can think about now is the memory of Lu Han’s hands on his cock, smooth and warm, stroking him to release two times in quick succession “—holy fuck, hyung, I’m gonna—”
“Shh, calm down and think of Kevin’s high school graduation photos,” Lu Han says. That horrific thought helps for a split second, until Lu Han’s hands shift on Jongin’s hips, and then the overwhelming feeling returns.
“This isn’t helping!” Jongin hisses, breathing laboured.
“Okay, okay. Just conjure up something unsexy and squeeze!” Lu Han commands. Jongin bites back a groan, squeezing, but all it does is make him harder. It’s the familiar pressure, the tension coiling itself in his torso, threatening to let loose at any moment—
“Uh,” Jongin chokes out, “I don’t think this—”
“Don’t think, stop talking and breathe,” Lu Han says, and that’s sexy, too, because Lu Han commanding him to—Jongin swallows hard, and collects his scattered thoughts to focus on what Lu Han wants him to do now. He shuts up, closing his eyes and concentrating on feeling the flow of air in and out of his lungs. The tension subsides. “Good boy.” Lu Han murmurs. “Good boy. Relax.”
“I’m not a dog,” Jongin growls, but Lu Han’s smirk suggests otherwise.
“Baekhyun seemed to think your dick was a dachshund. Now squeeze!”
“Lulu, we got snacks—” It’s Yixing. Jongin cranes his neck to see an upside down Yixing, bag of snacks in one hand. Yixing squints and snorts. “Oh. Isn’t this a bit tame for you?”
Lu Han frowns. “But I locked the door. How did you get in?”
“Um, I have a card key, you dumbass.” Jongin can almost hear Yixing roll his eyes. “You know, because this is my room?”
At that moment, there’s a thump, and Jongin cranes his head again, this time seeing an upside down Kevin.
“...Oh. Hi. Uh, what on earth are you teaching him?” Kevin asks, one eyebrow raised. Jongin looks back, hands still bracing his hips, which are thrust up into the air. “Childbirth techniques?”
“Hey,” Lu Han says, putting his hands on his waist, “did you forget who taught you how to maintain your hard-on so you could shoot three loads to fulfill that bizarre ‘fireman’ roleplay fetish—”
“Why would you even bring that up in public, Lu Han—”
“I’m your hyung, too,” Lu Han says, and if Jongin had thought that Kevin and Yixing’s presence would be enough to kill his boner, he clearly hadn’t anticipated just how arousing Lu Han’s distracting fingertips gliding along the half-exposed skin of his side would be. “You should appreciate all the valuable knowledge I’ve blessed you with—”
“—but telling Jongin about the fireman—”
“—it’s not a fireman anymore,” Yixing mumbles. “We’ve got to let him stop watching those American rom-coms. It’s ‘Magic Mike’ now—dancing with his magic wand—”
“—okay, you can tell me all about Kevin’s magic wand later, but I’m kind of busy, so out you get.” Lu Han kicks Yixing and Kevin out of the room, quite literally, but not before Jongin catches Yixing’s snorting laughter.
“Idiots,” Lu Han mutters, returning to Jongin’s side to continue his torture of rubbing circles into Jongin’s hip. He hoists Jongin up again, this time slowly working down the waistband elastic of Jongin’s sweatpants. Jongin groans, and Lu Han plants a kiss on the groove of Jongin’s crotch, pulling the elastic down further with his teeth. “Keep squeezing. Don’t stop.” Lu Han tugs at the legs of Jongin’s pants, and the fabric slides over Jongin’s half-hard cock, sending tingles up the base of Jongin’s spine.
“I’m—” Jongin kicks off his pants and braces himself, thighs trembling, “—squeezing.”
Lu Han stands up straight, crossing his arms. “Good.” Jongin reaches a hand up to handle his cock, the pressure unbearable. Lu Han grabs his wrist to stop him, hard enough to bruise. “Ah, ah, you’re not allowed to touch yourself just yet, Jongin-ah. Be a good boy, listen to hyung.” Lu Han leans over until he’s right next to Jongin’s ear. He drops his voice to a whisper. “Are you listening to me? Are you going to follow my every direction?”
“Y-yes, hyung.” Jongin grits his teeth and clenches his fist. Lu Han smiles and lets Jongin’s wrist free. By now, Jongin’s nipples have hardened into little nubs, visible through his t-shirt, and Lu Han doesn’t miss this. Lu Han walks around the room, excruciatingly slowly, until he’s standing behind Jongin and Jongin can no longer see him, then he circles his finger in spirals around Jongin’s left nipple, flicking it gently.
“Are you still squeezing?” Jongin nods. “Good boy. Breathe. Don’t be so tense. Relax.”
“How am I supposed to squeeze and relax at the same time?” Jongin wants to ask, but he doesn’t think he can spare the concentration to form words right now. The squeezing is doing less to help than it is to accentuate the throbbing in his groin.
“Take deep breaths.” Lu Han slides his hand down Jongin’s chest to his abdomen, just below his diaphragm, and he rubs soft circles, fingers reaching just that little bit lower—
“Shit.”
Lu Han’s hand doesn’t even make it to Jongin’s cock before Jongin comes from sheer desperation. He thrusts upwards wildly once, then his thighs buckle underneath him and he can no longer keep himself arched in the air like Lu Han wants.
“Tsk. Who said you could lie down?” Lu Han chides, voice soothing yet commanding, and Jongin takes a deep breath and props his hips up in the air again, cock still twitching from his orgasm. “Wait there, I need to grab something. You better not let your hips drop, or there’ll be a punishment.”
Before Jongin can say anything back, Lu Han walks out of the room, closing the door with a click behind him, and Jongin’s alone, the muscles in his thighs burning from holding himself taut for so long. It’s like he’s back in dance class doing endurance exercises...only this time, he thinks wryly, he’s half naked and about two strokes away from coming again.
It feels like an eternity and a half before Lu Han’s back, a length of black cloth in one hand and a small clear plastic bag in the other. Lu Han pushes the door closed and gives Jongin a comforting smile, which isn’t very comforting in the grand scheme of things.
“What a good boy,” Lu Han purrs. “You’ve obeyed well. You can lie flat now.”
“What’s—” Jongin gulps as Lu Han kneels down next to him and deftly fastens the black cloth around Jongin’s eyes, tying a knot at the back of his head, “—that—hyung, I can’t see—”
“That’s the point,” Lu Han explains. His voice is muted and husky. “Less to focus on.” He trails his fingers down Jongin’s jawline, resting a finger on Jongin’s lips, the soft pad of his index unusually cold. “Now, you just need to feel.”
Jongin’s pulse quickens. He can’t see anything, which amplifies every little touch and every sound, and that’s...Jongin gulps. That’s thrilling.
There’s a momentary sting and a sharp coolness on his nipple, and Jongin makes a gurgling sound at the back of his throat. The ice slips around from one nipple to another, leaving a trail of coolness where it touches his skin.
“It’s cold. Where did you get that?” Jongin breathes, curling his fingers and toes as Lu Han draws the ice down from Jongin’s nipples over his stomach and circles his bellybutton.
“Hotel rooms have a mini-fridge,” Lu Han murmurs, pressing his lips to Jongin’s stomach where he’d just been circling with the ice. His lips are warm compared to the freezing ice trail. “I froze it in the morning. Thought it was too hot today to let this pass.”
Lu Han’s lips leave Jongin’s skin. There’s a rustling sound, and more sharp coldness as Lu Han sets two cubes of ice on each of Jongin’s nipples and one on his bellybutton, wet, cold hands gripping Jongin’s sides. Jongin shudders, a shiver running through his whole body. He’s burning at a fever pitch, adrenaline pumping through his veins, the fast-melting ice dripping down the sides of his body the only thing keeping him from overheating.
A click—a pen? A lid?—sounds. Lu Han grabs Jongin by the knees and spreads his legs apart, the sudden motion sending the cubes of ice on his body sliding off in cold trails, but Jongin promptly forgets about that because there’s a cool liquid dripping messily onto his balls, and Lu Han’s finger spreads it down and draws circles with it around his rim.
“Feel good?” Lu Han asks, slipping his finger in until the first knuckle. He pushes even further, curling his finger, then taking it out and pushing it again. “Tell hyung how it feels.”
“Ye—holy fuck.” The sharp freezing sensation that Jongin feels on his balls can only be—“Hyung, fuck it’s cold—”
“It’s ice,” Lu Han states matter-of-factly, “of course it’s cold.” He rubs the ice on Jongin’s balls, cupping them and tugging them away from Jongin’s body, and Jongin writhes around on the mat, the tingling sensation multiplied tenfold by the fact that he can’t see a thing Lu Han’s up to. Lu Han pulls at Jongin’s balls, massaging them, then trails a cold finger feather-light down the insides of Jongin’s thighs.
A droplet of icy water trickles down Jongin’s balls.
Jongin comes with a full-bodied shudder.
“F-fuck, are you trying to make sure I can’t have children?” Jongin manages to breathe out, his whole body shaking from his orgasm. He can feel come leaking out of his cock, so hot compared to the ice being rubbed in circles onto his balls. Lu Han pushes a second finger into Jongin and Jongin groans, licking his lips. “I mean, I don’t think ice is good for—”
“On the contrary, icing your balls increases testosterone levels,” Lu Han says. “Well, at least that’s what Baidu search said.” He slaps Jongin on the ass. “Turn around. Get onto your knees.”
“Lu—” Jongin says, but it turns into a pathetic whine as Lu Han flips him around, takes an ice cube and presses it against his stretched rim. The shock of cold has Jongin quaking from the struggle to maintain his balance, but Lu Han is relentless, pressing it inside of him until he can feel the cold burn deep inside his body. “Oh my—”
“Are you squeezing?” Lu Han asks, and he sounds so amused, so pleased, as he pulls his fingers free. The ice cube is melting in the tight grip of Jongin’s inner walls, and it stings, the iciness almost numbing.
“Y-yes,” Jongin breathes. “It—it’s cold.”
“Squeeze harder.” Lu Han says, and proceeds to push another ice cube inside. This movement nudges the first one in deeper, and Jongin squeezes, and there’s a cold shock bursting on that spot inside Jongin. Jongin’s arms go weak and the tension builds up much too fast in his torso and—
Jongin comes again, thick white strings of come spurting onto the yoga mat.
“Third time’s a charm,” Lu Han mutters, chuckling. He snakes a hand up to give Jongin’s cock a few rough pumps, milking out the last of Jongin’s come. “But let’s go for a fourth.”
It’s not a suggestion. Lu Han has complete control here. Jongin can only nod in agreement and turn to lie on his back as Lu Han smooths cold hands up Jongin’s legs, grazing over Jongin’s inner thighs and around Jongin’s cock, up to viciously pinch Jongin’s nipples. Lu Han’s hands leave momentarily, and then there’s a rustle and a warm pair of lips kissing patterns on Jongin’s stomach, before an icy tongue darts out from between them.
Lu Han’s mouth is confusing, a mixture of the heat Jongin has come to find familiar and a chill that travels down his erection with every bob of Lu Han’s head. The combination is startling, and the unsurety of whether the next lick up the underside of his shaft will be hot or cold has Jongin’s nerves on edge, every ounce of his attention on the dry scrape of Lu Han’s lips along over-stimulated skin and the brush of his tip against the back of Lu Han’s throat. He releases a whine so pathetic and helpless that it’s embarrassing, and Lu Han chuckles, sending vibrations through him that make his eyes roll back into his head. “Lu...Han...” he says, even though he can hardly feel his lips move, and his vocal cords are as frozen as his balls. “It’s—”
His hands find purchase in Lu Han’s hair, the dry strands coarse between his grasping fingers, and he pulls. Lu Han punishes him by letting his teeth scrape, following the painful sensation with ice, and Jongin feels like he’s going to burst out of his own skin. “You’re doing well, Jongin-ah,” Lu Han says, hoarse and far too calm, and his words whisper across his wet skin, curling Jongin’s toes. “Tense those muscles.”
Jongin does. He tries to focus on squeezing, just like Lu Han had told him. It works, for a bit, allowing him to survive the drag of the flat of Lu Han’s tongue around his base, sloppy and obscene, and the chill of the icecube at his slit, but then Lu Han moans happily around him, like he’s enjoying himself, or enjoying the control, and Jongin slams his eyes shut despite the blindfold, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth together.
He accidentally lets himself imagine Lu Han’s face, lips stretched around him, eyes shining with amusement, and he wishes he could see it, but just the picture in his head sends him spiralling down, abs as taut as they can go as his body quakes, orgasm ripping through him. Lu Han sucks him through it as he comes, this time in Lu Han’s mouth, ankles joined behind Lu Han’s neck and hands scrabbling at Lu Han’s hair. Lu Han’s fingers grip Jongin’s shoulders tightly, and Jongin’s thankful that at least this time he won’t have to explain to the makeup artists why he has a fresh set of angry bite marks all over his body.
“I’m—” Jongin takes a couple of deep breaths, untangling his fingers from Lu Han’s hair. Lu Han unhands Jongin, sitting back, and Jongin sorely misses the warmth of Lu Han’s hands on him.
Lu Han is far gentler when he undoes the blindfold, pushing Jongin’s sweaty bangs back from his forehead and leaving a kiss that has Jongin shuddering in a whole different way on Jongin’s forehead.
He feels completely spent, his muscles contracting involuntarily in aftershocks, and Lu Han’s hands pet him calmingly through it, until he stills.
“You did well,” Lu Han says, and Jongin looks at him with wide eyes. “Are you okay?” His voice is teasing, but there’s a small thread of concern woven through the words that has Jongin nodding hurriedly, because “that was fucking amazing” has too many syllables right now, and he’s not sure he’s supposed to like school quite this much.
“Good boy.” His fingers trace Jongin’s throat, as if skirting the edge of an imaginary collar, and Jongin’s body can’t possibly be getting aroused at the thought. “Every time you feel like coming, remember to tense your muscles until the feeling goes away.”
Lu Han tucks Jongin’s dick back into his underwear, giving it a little pat, and Jongin almost creams himself again. Easier said than done, Jongin wants to say, but he nods dumbly, and hopes he doesn’t just remember Lu Han’s voice, instead.
“You should get some sleep,” Lu Han says, not meeting Jongin’s eyes. Jongin licks his dry lips, still staring at Lu Han’s hardness, apparent through his shorts. He wants... But maybe, he thinks, Lu Han doesn’t want him to touch. It’s not a reciprocal thing between them, whatever it is. It’s Lu Han teaching Jongin, as a friend. Lu Han getting hard doesn’t mean...
Jongin knows better than anyone that an erection doesn’t necessarily indicate desire. It’s possible that Lu Han is ushering Jongin out of the room because he wants to take care of it himself, and would only be embarrassed if Jongin offered something he really didn’t want.
The problem is that Jongin isn’t sure of the boundaries. He takes a deep breath, and stands up on wobbly legs. “All right,” he says. He hurriedly pulls on his clothes with shaky hands, and turns away from Lu Han in case Lu Han lifts his head, to prevent Lu Han from seeing the confusion he’s sure is written all over his face. “I’ll...see you later?”
“Of course,” Lu Han says. “After China.” His tone is strange. Jongin’s eyes flicker back over at him, and get trapped there, staring at Lu Han’s profile. There’s a thin sheen of sweat on Lu Han’s brow, and he’s worrying at his lower lip.
“Right,” Jongin says, and his eyes linger a bit too long on Lu Han’s swollen, pink mouth before he closes the door.
>> part iii
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