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Sanghyuk's in a horrible mood and the entire group can tell—not that Donghyun seems to care in the least. He's got no trouble cavorting about on stage with Dongmin just earlier today when he found every issue with Sanghyuk hugging him for fanservice just last week. Even pulled him aside after the partition went down to tell him that "they don't have to keep doing this".
And he's trying his very best not to care, he really is, but that stung. A lot.
The energy in the venue this evening had been electric. The fans were screaming, the music was booming beneath their skin, and the stage lights cast everything in a memorable golden glow—but Sanghyuk had missed nearly all of it while getting caught up in whatever was going on between Dongmin and Donghyun, who were laughing and leaning into each other the whole time like they were the only two on stage.
It was stupid. Sanghyuk knew it was stupid. But the frustration had simmered so violently under his skin, twisting the knife deep in his chest. He'd clenched his jaw, trying to shake it off, but when he watched Donghyun giggle over Dongmin pushing at him with his knees, a giggle he was used to being exclusive to him, the resentment had bubbled over and Sanghyuk had to storm off the heat when they were supposed to do a group shot.
He was going to get scolded badly for this, but who the fuck cared? His expression must've given his thoughts away, because the next thing he knew, Jaehyun had stepped into his peripheral vision.
Before he could react, Jaehyun crouched slightly, raising his eyebrows and motioning for him to get into his arms.
Sanghyuk wanted to be anywhere but on the stage, but he knew Jaehyun had paved the way out of the mess for him. Gingerly, he'd allowed himself to be picked up bridal style, sturdy hands gripping him under his legs and back.
He barely had time to yelp before Jaehyun was twirling him around, laughing and gigling with that ridiculous smile that took up half his face. The crowd erupted into screams, and somewhere in the haze of his shock and embarrassment at the lack of control he had over his own emotions, Sanghyuk felt himself laugh—a surprised, breathless giggle escaping before he remembered he had to sing.
Jaehyun had looked at him, eyes softening around the edges. "What a pretty smile," he'd teased before gently setting Sanghyuk back on his feet. His hands had lingered on Sanghyuk's waist, looping into the belt carriers of his jeans to keep him steady. And close.
And just like that, his burst of anger had eased. Just a little.
They were back in their shared hotel room now, and Sanghyuk's sitting on his side of the room with a towel draped around his shoulders as he doom scrolls on Twitter and Weverse and TikTok to see what their fans have to say about the night, his heart dropping with every post that mentions the stormy look on his face. He's going to get called aside by their manager and PR team tomorrow.
He hears the clicking of the bathroom lights being turned off as Jaehyun steps out of the bathroom, steam curling around his frame. He’s wearing a loose shirt and sweatpants, his usual post-show routine, but his eyes go straight to Sanghyuk—hunched over his phone, fingers scrolling fast, shoulders tense.
Jaehyun sighs softly, padding over to where Sanghyuk sits on the edge of his bed, absorbed in whatever he’s reading. Sanghyuk averts his eyes as Jaehyun sits there, staring for a few moments. He doesn't have to turn to Jaehyun to know that it's bad.
Without a word, Jaehyun presses a warm palm to Sanghyuk’s forearm. Sanghyuk jolts and stiffens slightly at the touch, but he doesn't move away. Doesn't dare take away the only human contact he's gotten from someone in the quiet of their room in a while now. Gently, Jaehyun pushes the phone down, forcing Sanghyuk’s gaze away from the screen.
“Hey,” Jaehyun murmurs, voice still rough from the concert. “Just stop looking it up—it's not going to do you any good.”
Sanghyuk exhales sharply through his nose, not meeting his eyes. “I just wanted to see what they were saying.”
Jaehyun doesn’t let go of his arm, thumb brushing over the fabric of Sanghyuk’s sweater hoodie, then moving to take the drawstrings of it between his fingers. “And? Let me guess—nothing you’d actually wanna hear?”
Sanghyuk swallows, fingers clenching around his phone. His silence is answer enough.
Jaehyun sighs again, firmer this time. “Come on.” He reaches forward, plucking the phone from Sanghyuk’s grip before he can protest, tossing it onto the nightstand. “You’re not letting some random tweets ruin your night.”
Sanghyuk finally turns his head, eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t—”
“Sanghyuk.” Jaehyun’s voice is softer now, but steady. “I saw you tonight.” He squeezes his arm lightly. “You were upset. And that’s okay. But don’t let this eat you up.”
Sanghyuk looks away, pressing his lips together. “It’s just… I don’t get why he—” He stops himself, shaking his head. “Never mind.”
Jaehyun tilts his head, watching him carefully. There's something dark in the way he's steading his gaze on Sanghyuk. “Why he what?”
Sanghyuk exhales slowly. “Why he didn’t want me to do it,” he mutters, voice tight. “But he’s fine with Dongmin.”
Jaehyun’s quiet for a moment. Then, in a softer tone, he says, “Maybe that’s on him. Not you.”
Sanghyuk blinks, startled by how simple it sounds. He finally turns to look at Jaehyun fully, and Jaehyun meets him with that easy, familiar warmth—the same warmth that had pulled him out of his anger earlier tonight. Like the long fingers Jaehyun untangles the cords on Sanghyuk's electronics with without being asked to.
“Don’t think about it so much,” Jaehyun says, voice light as he leans in, nudging their shoulders together. “Besides, you know you looked the best out there anyway.”
Sanghyuk snorts, shaking his head, but the corner of his mouth twitches. “You’re such a liar.”
Instead of laughing and grinning like Sanghyuk had expected him to, all the mirth just—disappaers from his features. Sanghyuk freezes, alarmed at the intensity of Jaehyun's stare. ”Do you really think I'm lying, Sanghyuk?"
Jaehyun’s stare is unwavering, pinning Sanghyuk in place like a butterfly under glass to show how serious he is about this. The air between them shifts—thickens. Sanghyuk suddenly feels the weight of Jaehyun’s presence in a way he hasn’t before, his body thrumming with an awareness that leaves him breathless. Jaehyun's presence right behind him is suddenly taking up a whole lot more room on his super single.
"I—" Sanghyuk falters, but he doesn’t know what he’s even trying to say.
Jaehyun leans in, closing the space between them just enough for Sanghyuk to catch the scent of his shampoo, fresh and clean. “You really think I’m lying?” His voice is softer now, but there’s something dangerous curled beneath it, something that makes Sanghyuk’s pulse jump and pick up erratically in pace.
Sanghyuk swallows. He should say something. Should laugh it off. Should push Jaehyun’s hand away from where it still rests on his arm, thumb pressing just a little too firmly into his sleeve. But he doesn’t.
Because the way Jaehyun is looking at him—sharp, assessing, like he’s peeling Sanghyuk open without him even noticing—is making it impossible to move.
Jaehyun exhales, something flickering in his gaze. “You get so caught up in what everyone else thinks, what he thinks.” His fingers shift, slipping down to Sanghyuk’s wrist, his touch burning even through the fabric. “But what about me, huh?”
Sanghyuk's breath stutters. "What about you?"
Jaehyun doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he moves. Deliberately. Slowly. His hand drifts lower, settling at Sanghyuk’s waist, fingers pressing in just enough to make Sanghyuk feel like he’s drowning in something he doesn’t understand. He's pressing in that exact spot he'd gripped him earlier when he'd picked Sanghyuk up like he weighed nothing.
“Why do you like him so much, Sanghyuk-ah?” Jaehyun’s grip tightens, his chin pressing into the crook of Sanghyuk’s neck. His hands are everywhere—slipping under Sanghyuk’s half-unzipped sweater, cradling his jaw, tilting his chin up. It’s overwhelming. Sanghyuk can’t think.
"Is it because he calls you hyung?" Jaehyun’s voice is low, almost teasing. "Because I can do that too."
His fingers tighten, forcing Sanghyuk’s gaze forward—straight into the mirror fixed opposite their hotel bed.
"Hyung," Jaehyun murmurs, lips brushing against his ear. "Look at yourself. So fucking pretty. Let me show you just how pretty you can be."
It's one of the first and only times Jaehyun has called him hyung. And Sanghyuk—oh, fuck.
Sanghyuk can't take this. He sucks in a sharp breath and pushes away at Jaehyun with his shoulder, trying to dislodge himself from his grasp. Instinct, muscle memory, from all the years of being teased relentlessly. "Jaehyun, stop," he tries to laugh, but it comes up all wrong. Too nervous. Too unsteady. "I can never tell when you're being serious."
Jaehyun doesn’t let go. His grip remains firm, hands warm against Sanghyuk’s waist, thumbs pressing into the dip of his back like he’s trying to anchor him in place. Jaehyun's are so fucking large, oh god. His middle fingers are almost meeting at his belly button. His eyes flick up to the mirror again, watching Sanghyuk through the reflection.
“When am I not serious with you?” he whispers.
Sanghyuk exhales sharply. “All the time,” he snaps, but it comes out weaker than he means it to. “You’re always like this with everyone else. It's just—you.”
Jaehyun’s fingers curl, his hold tightening just enough for Sanghyuk to feel it. “Do I look like I’m joking?” His voice is lower now, threading through the space between them like a livewire skimming the water's surface. “Do I ever hold them like this?”
Sanghyuk stills. He doesn’t answer, but Jaehyun doesn’t need him to. He presses closer, the heat of him searing through Sanghyuk’s clothes, fingertips tracing the hem of his sweater, skimming just beneath the fabric. Every touch is deliberate—measured, slow, like he’s proving a point.
Sanghyuk exhales, trying to ground himself. “Jaehyun—”
“Look.” Jaehyun's right hand moves, tilting Sanghyuk’s chin back toward the mirror, forcing him to meet his own gaze. His lips ghost just over the shell of Sanghyuk’s ear as he whispers, “Just look.”
Sanghyuk does. And what he sees nearly makes him forget how to breathe.
Jaehyun behind him, gaze dark and unreadable. His other hand is sensually painting patterns over the rest of his body—in zig zags over his ribs, in a snake-like pattern down his waist, pressing into the bare skin above his hip where his sweater has ridden up. And himself—flushed, breath uneven, wide-eyed with something he doesn’t want to name.
His sweater—it's half unzipped. Jaehyun's fingers play with the zipper, like he's threatening to rip it off of Sanghyuk the first chance he gets.
Jaehyun watches his expression shift, something satisfied flickering across his features. “See what I mean?” His hands slide up, smoothing over Sanghyuk’s sides, fingers digging in just slightly as if to remind him he’s there, as if he could ever forget.
Sanghyuk’s pulse pounds in his ears. He should stop this. Say something. But Jaehyun is so close, his voice curling around him like heat, his touch searing a clear path up his spine, and for the first time in a long time—Sanghyuk doesn’t know what he wants.
"You don't think you're pretty? I don't believe it." Sanghyuk swallows hard, but his throat is dry. Jaehyun's hand on his chin is extremely unmoving, resolute, and Jaehyun's words are almost manifesting themselves physically in a coil that wraps around him, think and unshakable. He watches as Jaehyun's eyes rove over his body in the mirror and he doesn't know how to respond—doesn't even know if he can, because Jaehyun's touch is setting every nerve in his body alight. "More than pretty. So fucking cute. Adorable."
"Jaehyun—" he forces out, but Jaehyun interrupts him.
"Do you see how your skin's turning red everywhere, hyung? You couldn't hide it even if you wanted to." Slowly, Jaehyun’s fingers flex at his jaw, and his index finger prods at Sanghyuk's lower lip, seeking permission to enter—and for whatever reason, Sanghyuk's mouth parts obediently for him. Jaehyun's finger is sweeping across his tongue now, gliding over the inside of his cheeks.
It's salty, dirty, filthy, and so fucking hot.
Sanghyuk shivers despite the heat creeping up his spine. His breath is coming too fast, too shallow, and in the mirror, he watches himself shift under Jaehyun’s touch—sees the way his body leans, however unwillingly, into the warmth at his back. His sweater has slipped further down one shoulder, exposing more skin to the open air, and Jaehyun’s gaze flickers there, fingers trailing up like he’s committing every inch to memory.
"You always do this," Sanghyuk forces out, voice small around Jaehyun's finger. "You play around, touchy with everyone, and—"
"But this isn’t playing, hyung." Jaehyun cuts him off, his voice quieter now, more certain. His hands shift, pressing firmly at Sanghyuk’s waist, keeping him right where he wants him. "You know that, don’t you?"
Sanghyuk exhales shakily, staring at the way Jaehyun's fingertips press into his skin—how they fit so perfectly there, like they belong. The worst part is, he doesn't know if he wants to push them away.
Jaehyun moves closer still, his chest flush against Sanghyuk’s back, the heat of him impossible to ignore. The slow, deliberate press of his fingertips along Sanghyuk’s stomach makes his breath hitch, makes his fingers clench against his own thighs.
"I want you to see yourself the way I do," Jaehyun whispers. His hand slides upward, skimming over the curve of Sanghyuk’s ribs, and he tilts his chin just enough that their eyes meet in the mirror again. He takes his finger out of Sanghyuk's mouth and licks it off. "So fucking pretty like this."
Sanghyuk doesn’t know what’s worse—the fact that he can’t find a retort, or the way his body betrays him, the way he’s still standing here, letting Jaehyun touch, letting Jaehyun ravage him like that.
"Tell me to stop." Jaehyun’s voice is nothing more than a breath against his skin. The way he's holding Sanghyuk now, offering a way out, is so fucking heartbreakingly gentle. "And I will."
Sanghyuk opens his mouth. Closes it again.
Because he should. He should tell Jaehyun to stop.
But the words won’t come.
And Jaehyun knows it.
"Hyung, let me make you feel good, hm? I'll be so nice to you."
Sanghyuk can't speak because the desire is welling up in his throat and choking him, but he nods despite himself, and Jaehyun wastes no time. Jaehyun's grip strengthens on his hips as he manouevres Sanghyuk onto his thighs fully, their bodies angled perfectly towards the mirror. Something horribly filthy in Sanghyuk twitches at the casual display of strength and power. Since when had Jaehyun gotten so strong?
One of Jaehyun's hands cup his cheeks, bringing his head to the side so Jaehyun can lean into press his lips against Sanghyuk's. Slowly, the hand that had been cupping his face moves into Sanghyuk's hair, frizzing up from the air, and he attempts a gentle tug at the strands. It stings, and Sanghyuk can't help the moan he releases into Jaehyun's mouth that makes his lips curve into a smile. It's all warm. It's all hazy. It's all making Sanghyuk so, so dizzy.
He opens his mouth, and Jaehyun's tongue slides in, eager, all inhibitions out the window.
Sanghyuk can't stand it. He throws his arms around Jaehyun's neck and pulls him in.
It's not poetic, beautiful, or even gentle and gorgeous. It's dirty, harsh, painful. Their teeth clash and their tongues catch and their bodies burn like they're stuck in a car wreck they'd caused. It's a prelude to something absolutely repulsive, and it's just the thing Sanghyuk need to chase all the feelings out from his fucking brain. He's turned sideways on Jaehyun's thighs now, mirroring their pose from earlier this evening except they’re sitting down, surrounded by so much of their bed, pressed so closely they might as well be one body.
Jaehyun's kisses like he sings, raps, dances, lives, breathes. With his mind on one thing, with vicious intent, and Sanghyuk finds it so hot that it's him. Oh, it's him that's Jaehyun's focus, Jaehyun's intention right now. A high keening rises in his throat, and the grip Jaehyun has on his shoulder squeezes it out, guiding the sound into both their ears.
Beneath him, Jaehyun is rolling his hips into Sanghyuk's ass, giving him something to grind on, and god, does he fucking do it.
Jaehyun wants him. Sanghyuk wants to be wanted. What could be better than this?
When Jaehyun finally pulls away, both of them breathless and panting, Jaehyun looks at him. "How do you want this, hyung?"
Every time Jaehyun says that, calls him hyung, Sanghyuk is just visited by this horrible vision of him getting carpet burns on the ground on both his hands and knees. "I want whatever you can give me. I want you to fuck me."
Jaehyun smiles, and it's almost so dopey that Sanghyuk forgets what they're in the middle of.
Jaehyun’s breath hitches, and for a second—just a second—he looks at Sanghyuk like he’s something to be worshiped. Like the weight of those words knocks the air right out of his lungs. His hands flex against Sanghyuk’s skin, warm and grounding, before he exhales a quiet laugh, head tilting forward to press against Sanghyuk’s temple.
"Yeah?" he murmurs, voice just a little unsteady, just a little ruined. "You want me like that?"
Sanghyuk swallows, his pulse thundering. His fingers tighten where they rest against Jaehyun’s shoulders, and it’s humiliating, the way he can’t bring himself to look away from the mirror. The way Jaehyun is watching him through it, dark eyes flickering with something unreadable. Something terrifying.
Something that makes Sanghyuk’s entire body feel like it’s burning from the inside out.
Jaehyun shifts beneath him, the movement deliberate, slow, sending a fresh wave of heat curling up Sanghyuk’s spine. His fingers trail over Sanghyuk’s arm, ghosting along the inside of his wrist before gripping it, guiding his hand down between them. Not pushing, not demanding—just offering.
"Then let me take care of you," Jaehyun breathes against his skin. "Let me give you exactly what you need."
Sanghyuk’s breath shudders out of him.
This—this shouldn’t feel as natural as it does. But it’s Jaehyun. Always Jaehyun. The boy who’s infuriated him for years, who teases and taunts and gets under his skin like no one else. The boy who has always known exactly how to unravel him without even trying.
And right now, Jaehyun is doing just that, piece by piece, unraveling him down to nothing.
Sanghyuk squeezes his eyes shut, presses his forehead into the crook of Jaehyun’s neck, trying to ground himself, trying to keep from slipping under completely. But Jaehyun is warm, Jaehyun is solid, Jaehyun is here, and Sanghyuk can’t think straight when every inch of him is screaming to just let go.
"I got you," Jaehyun murmurs, a promise against his skin. "Let me have you."
Sanghyuk exhales shakily. And this time, when he nods, it’s with absolutely no hesitation at all.
Jaehyun unzips Sanghyuk's hoodie, letting the cold air hit his skin where the fabric falls off with no resistance. Then Jaehyun's fingers getting to work on his zipper, pulling it down, and freeing his dick into the cold air of the hotel room.
It's crazy, the things they're doing with the members next door, with the staff across the hall. They don't know Jaehyun's got his hand wrapped around Sanghyuk's cock while he stares at every detail in Sanghyuk's face in the mirror. It's thrilling, it's exhilarating. Sanghyuk hasn't felt this scandalized in a while and he's missed chasing highs like this.
There's electricity twined with embarrassment skittering across his skin as Jaehyun starts to stroke him.
"If I could bite you, hyung, you'd be marked up everywhere," Jaehyun tells him, pressing his lips against Sanghyuk's skin as he speaks. "If had been mine hyung, I would've treated you so much better. So much nicer. Fucked you harder than he ever could."
Sanghyuk lets out a whine, long and wobbly, and Jaehyun teases the skin at the back of his neck with his teeth. He pushes back against Jaehyun's hand, which is slowing down, and shudders with what little restraint he can scrape together out of his own pride. He's a slut, oh god. He wonders what Jaehyun thinks of him. Though, judging by the way he's got his eyes locked on Sanghyuk in the mirror, way too much.
There's no use denying how much he wants this. It's written all over his writhing body, his desperate eyes.
"Do you want me to beg, Jaehyun?"
"Not yet." Jaehyun's other hand snakes up to brush over his nipples. "Just wanna look at you first."
Jaehyun thumbs the head of his dick, and watching this in the mirror is straight up life changing. He doesn't know how he's ever going to fuck without a mirror from now on. Without Jaehyun. The way he's twisting his wrist around his cock is making his hips jump up and jolt in surprise.
He's squeezing, oh, he's squeezing. Does he usually look like this when Donghyun fucks him? Mouth open, tongue out, eyes squinting with desperation? Then he's pressing back against Jaehyun's dick and he's seeing Jaehyun wince. From him. And it gets so much better.
"I'm going to come," he tells Jaehyun, voice shaky.
"Okay, come," Jaehyun replies, so casual, so confident, Sanghyuk releases all over his hand.
Jaehyun pumps all of it out, grinning like a wolf in the mirror. He's going to die right here. He's going to die with his dick in his team leader's hand and the last thing he'll be thinking of is the decibel of Jaehyun's voice when he calls him hyung.
"You good for one more, hyung?"
There. Again.
It's fucking humiliating, and he's burning up on the inside like a piece of paper in the fireplace as he wonders what Jaehyun makes of his fucking hyung kink. But Jaehyun's waiting for an answer as he licks some of the come of his fingers, and it's all he can do to say yes.
"Do you have lube?"
Sanghyuk might die. does he have to answer this? But then he sees Jaehyun's face, the genuine curiosity in his eyes, and he has to nod, yet again.
Fuck Jaehyun's eyes. Fuck how they have all the stars in the damn world.
Jaehyun thumbs clumsily at the button of his pants, his zipper, and pulls his own dick out. He spreads the rest of Sanghyuk's come on himself and Sanghyuk's dick twitches back in interest in record time.
He leaves the bed for a moment to dig through Sanghyuk's baggage for the bottle of lube. When he finally finds it, he empties the oil over his fingers and gently repositions Sanghyuk on the bed. He's staring at the ceiling now, heart palpitations like a constant beat in his ears, and he thinks he needs to do this more often.
To his surprise, Jaehyun doesn't just start fingering him. He bends down, shadowing Sanghyuk's frame with his own, and kisses him, gentler this time. His tongue sweeps Sanghyuk's bottom lip and sucks it in, and does all kinds of things with it that draw the stupidest noises from Sanghyuk's chest.
Then, after a while, Jaehyun prods a finger into him. Sanghyuk's hands scramble to find purchase on Jaehyun's shoulders immediately.
He's nowhere near a virgin, but it's also been a while since he'd broken up with Donghyun. Even before the break up, when they were going through a rough patch. And what with the comeback and the tour, it's not like Sanghyuk has had all the time in the world to find release fingering himself over a quick rub in the shower. So this is strange, almost foreign, and he's so angry that he'd almost let himself forget how delicious it felt to be stretched out like this.
He keens and whines as Jaehyun pulls out entirely, but relishes when he feels two fingers circling his hole.
"Good?"
His head is going to come off his shoulders from how hard he's nodding.
Jaehyun leans down, nuzzling his head against Sanghyuk's cheek. "Good boy."
Then there are two fingers pushing into him, and the burn takes him by surprise. Feeling his discomfort, Jaehyun bites down on Sanghyuk's bottom lip again and nibbles it between his teeth. Jaehyun's scissoring him, and it's making him feel like he's going insane from how much he wants to speed this up before it's even safe. Jaehyun's fingers are long, bony—he can feel their outline in him, stretching him out, scratching against his prostate.
A series of expletives fall from his mouth, and Jaehyun takes it as a sign to add a third finger. What can he do, when the stretch is so fucking delicious, but hang onto Jaehyun and ride his fingers desperately like a wanton little thing? His hips are stuttering on their own accord, and the way Jaehyun has withdrawn his lips and is looking at him now is not helping. Jaehyun's eyes light up in amusement as he watches Sanghyuk practically scream and stretch as Jaehyun's fingers brush over his spot again.
He does it again. Sanghyuk's back arches off the bed, and Jaehyun takes the sight in like he's watching something beautiful. Like an artist paint, a sculptor sculpt. Not something as obscene as Sanghyuk practically begging to be fucked silly on the bed.
"I think that's enough."
Sanghyuk is not religious, but he would've fallen onto his knees in thanks at this very moment if it weren't for the fact that Jaehyun was still pinning him down.
Then he moves off of Sanghyuk again, and he's tugging him up. "Do you want to ride me?"
At this moment in time, Sanghyuk would do anything for Jaehyun.
"Yes, I'll ride you. I'll ride you so good."
This seems to please him enough. Except for the fact that Jaehyun's lying down on the bed against the headboard, and he's waiting for Sanghyuk to climb on top of him. As Sanghyuk moves to do just that, Jaehyun puts a hand on his hip to stop him. "Not like this," he tells Sanghyuk, his voice hitched with anticipation. "I want you to see yourself as you do it."
A violent blush spreads across Sanghyuk's skin, but he doesn't have it in himself to deny Jaehyun of this request.
Jaehyun smiles at him in the mirror, and Sanghyuk decides he needs to hurry the fuck up. Using their reflection as a guide, he lines Jaehyun up and slowly nudges down, testing the waters. Then his head is catching at his rim and Sanghyuk's eyes roll into the back of their sockets.
Jaehyun's hands are everywhere again, soothing the small of his back, rounding the curve of his ass. He whispers sweet nothings into the air, eggs Sanghyuk on, tells him he's doing well, and Sanghyuk feels like he might just burst from everything he's feeling from these compliments.
It's long, thick, curved. Sanghyuk wants this every day.
He keeps sliding down, working it in, and the finger Jaehyun has got in the dimple of his back is actually helping him relax. And then—his thighs are meeting Jaehyun's hip bones, and he releases the breath he's been holding. As it comes out, so does a long, deep moan that comes from deep within his chest.
He studies their reflection in the mirror, how Jaehyun is not even staring at the spot where his dick is buried deep within Sanghyuk, but at Sanghyuk's face—looking, staring in unholy reverence.
"Pretty," Jaehyun says, simply, when their eyes meet in the mirror. "Cute. I told you, didn't I? I'd show you how fucking pretty you are."
Sanghyuk's heart is fluttering and it's a ridiculous thing to feel when this man is at least six inches in him. Sanghyuk's gone dumb, his vision blurry, his head heady with Jaehyun's scent. He starts shifting his hips, pushing back down experimentally, and Jaehyun moans with him.
And because Jaehyun is genuinely looking like he's enjoying the view, Sanghyuk finds the proper encouragement to start moving in earnest, lifting his hips up, thighs burning as they do, before slamming back down with their sweaty skins echoing the most obscene noises in the hotel room. Jaehyun keeps telling him that he's doing amazing, that it feels so fucking good, and Sanghyuk actually feels like he's getting high on Jaehyun's words alone.
But then Jaehyun's hands move to grab his wrists, pulling them behind his body.
What the fuck is this? How'd he get here? He's watching himself get fucked senseless in the mirror and he's got nothing on his mind except for how he can feel every little movement inside him with how slow they're going at it.
Jaehyun's cock is tugging inside him, and Sanghyuk learns how to angle himself just right so that it hits his sweet spot with a deliciousness that doesn't quite make sense when gravity pulls him back down. Jaehyun's hips are rolling, grinding into him, and finding the rhythm is so, so easy for Sanghyuk. Especially when that's the biggest part of his day job. But fuck—how he wishes this were his day job instead. If he could just warm Jaehyun's cock warm in the studio all day.
"Are you pretty, hyung?" Sanghyuk squeezes his eyes shut, and nods. All he can do is whimper as Jaehyun thrusts deeper and deeper, chasing the high that they are both feeling. He tries to speak, but they all come out in short bursts and clips that make no sense as Jaehyun continues fucking into him.
Then he's falling forward, Jaehyun's cock slipping out, and he's on his knees and he wants it so bad.
Jaehyun pushes back into him as quickly as he can manage, then catches his eyes in the mirror. Sanghyuk's drooling, his cheek pressed against the white sheets they're destroying as Jaehyun grips his hips tighter and goes faster, faster.
It's absolutely, positively filthy as Sanghyuk comes without telling Jaehyun, but it doesn't even matter anyway. Jaehyun fucks into him three more times before he feels something warm gush into him while he tears Sanghyuk apart with his stare in the mirror.
When Jaehyun finally pulls out, he pulls Sanghyuk back onto his chest, arms wrapping around him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. They’re both sticky with sweat, breath still uneven, but neither of them moves to clean up just yet. The warmth between them is grounding, a steady heartbeat against Sanghyuk’s back.
Jaehyun is the first to break the silence. “You okay?”
Sanghyuk lets out a breathy laugh. “Yeah.” And he is. Physically, at least.
But his mind is still racing.
Because now that the haze is wearing off, now that the adrenaline is settling, there’s something twisting in his gut—something that wasn’t there when Jaehyun’s hands were on him, when he was too busy drowning in sensation to think.
Jaehyun feels it too. He always does. “Sanghyuk.” His voice is quieter now, careful, and he's slipping back into his old speech habits with Sanghyuk. “What’s wrong?”
Sanghyuk hesitates, staring up at the ceiling. His throat feels tight. “I just…” He swallows, fingers curling into the sheets. “I don’t know what this means.”
Jaehyun is quiet for a moment. His grip around Sanghyuk doesn’t loosen. If anything, he holds him closer, resting his chin lightly against Sanghyuk’s shoulder. “It doesn’t have to mean anything right now.”
Sanghyuk exhales sharply, chest tightening. There’s probably some unspoken rule about how many members you can fuck before it becomes a problem. Not that anyone had spelled it out, but with Sungho, it was just that one time before they debuted—and it didn’t count. Not really.
He should stop doing this.
But Jaehyun is warm against him, steady, and Sanghyuk doesn’t know if he can let go. Not after being absolutely wrecked like this, after being held like Jaehyun actually means it.
Jaehyun shifts, his voice low and grounding. “What do you want, Sanghyuk?”
He should say something definitive, something that draws a line, but instead, he says, “I want things to stay like this.” A careful answer. A safe one. He doesn’t have to explain what this is—not yet. Not when he’s still figuring it out himself.
But Jaehyun just smiles, slow and knowing, like he already understands. And for a second, Sanghyuk lets himself believe that maybe they can stay like this. That they can keep it easy. Casual. Good.
Then Jaehyun reaches up, brushing Sanghyuk’s hair from his eyes, and murmurs, “You’re so pretty, Sanghyuk-ah.”
And Sanghyuk thinks—
It might be him who struggles to keep it casual.