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When Hongjoong wakes up, he is not in his own bed. And that is weird, because he has no memory of doing anything other than coming home in the dead of night and passing out. What is even weirder is that he immediately recognises the comforter. The bedside table. The Lego display case across the room.
A careful glance around tells him he's alone.
But why the fuck is he in Seonghwa's bed!?
Mentally preparing himself for the worst, Hongjoong lifts the soft blanket.
Phew.
He's fully dressed. At least that is good news. He thinks.
Probably.
Although?
These are Seonghwa's pajamas he's wearing.
Whatever happened to him last night, he has no recollection of any of it. And should he be in Seonghwa's bed because they somehow—finally—ended up fucking, he really, really doesn't want to miss out on that memory.
Wouldn't it be fittingly ironic if, after all these years of yearning and carefully managing his extremely inappropriate attraction towards his group member, he blanked out during the actual experience of having sex with him?
Well, Hongjoong's memory doesn't seem to suddenly want to refresh itself while he's just waiting for it. He won't learn anything by lying around and trying not to freak out about hypothetical what ifs.
So, Hongjoong swings his legs out of bed and tentatively takes a closer look around. He somehow hoped he might find clues about what happened. His clothes, maybe. Or at least his phone. But neither are anywhere to be seen, and he doesn't want to start digging around Seonghwa's extremely tidy room while he's not here.
With a yawn, Hongjoong stretches his back. Somehow he feels a little odd. Maybe it's the experience of sleeping in a strange bed. Or it's whatever happened yesterday that is still in his bones. Most pressingly though, he really has to pee.
For a moment Hongjoong is stalling leaving the room, as he can pretty clearly picture in his mind the awkwardness that would ensue, should he bump into Mingi or San. Especially while he's wearing Seonghwa's pajamas. But at some point, he can't help it anymore. His body has to do what it has to do, and that need is getting urgent.
Carefully, he pokes his head out of the door, and luckily no-one is to be seen or heard. It is probably still pretty early. Hongjoong wonders briefly just where exactly Seonghwa is—he kind of expected to hear him somewhere, maybe in the kitchen. But that question has to be his second priority, as he's pretty sure Seonghwa will kill him if he wets his pajamas.
Tiptoeing down the short hallway, Hongjoong breathes a sigh of relief when he pushes the handle of the bathroom door down. The second it opens though, he freezes in shock.
The tousled looking Mingi that is standing in front of the sink barely acknowledges him, only shooting him a brief glance.
"Morning," he murmurs, and he's clearly half-asleep, because he does not react to Hongjoong's presence beyond that. He simply dries off his hands, nods at his face in the mirror and then shuffles past Hongjoong without another word.
Hongjoong remains stupefied for a few more seconds. He doesn't even really care that Mingi was butt naked. Of course he was found out, right the moment he stepped foot outside Seonghwa's room!
Maybe Mingi was sleepy enough to not remember it later, he hopes, and pushes past the spell. After that experience, he makes sure to lock the door behind himself. And then, Hongjoong almost suffers the second heart attack of this very young day. Because he's not alone. Right in front of him, there's Seonghwa.
Hongjoong lets out a short, sharp scream, and Seonghwa screams in turn.
Hongjoong quickly presses his hands to his mouth. Seonghwa does the same.
His eyes bulge wide in shock, and Seonghwa's follow suit.
It takes Hongjoong an embarrassing amount of time to understand that he's staring into the floor length mirror on the back of the door. As soon as the realisation sinks in, he turns around sharply, but the room behind him is empty.
What?!
What...?
And then it all comes flashing back to him, with sudden, brilliantly clear certainty.
"If you could swap bodies with one member for a day, who would it be and why?"
A shiver runs through Hongjoong. Of course he said he'd choose Seonghwa, and of course everyone teased him for it afterwards. First the members after the filming, and yesterday, when the video dropped, Atiny weren't much better.
"Because I'm not good at organizing my home, so I'd switch for a day, organize everything neatly, and then swap back."
Of course they all called him out for his weak ass reasoning. He remembers reading those comments, and now—
For the first time, Hongjoong looks, really looks, in the mirror. He leans a little closer, touches his face.
Seonghwa's face. He does not just look like Seonghwa. This is really him. In the flesh.
The expression is the only thing that seems unfamiliar. Understandably so, given it is Hongjoong's own disbelief that is written across it.
Everything else is just as he's always seen him. From his smooth dark hair, slightly dishevelled, all the way down to his long legs and naked feet on the tiled floor. He is really Seonghwa.
As he lets his eyes drop, Hongjoong notices that the shirt of his night blue pyjama is half unbuttoned, revealing a narrow stretch of smooth, tan skin and the length of Seonghwa's elegant neck.
He's so fucking hot.
Oh.
Oh no.
Oh no, no, no!
The hungry expression that passes across Seonghwa's face while Hongjoong is looking at him makes him fluster so hard, his cheeks feel like they're about to burst into flames.
Hongjoong doesn't want to stare, but he simply can't help it. He can't do anything to peel his eyes off of that sight in the mirror. It's not as if he hasn't seen more of his body already, even Seonghwa's naked torso and legs. But this, this is different. Very different. Because he is alone and so close now, and only has to lift his hand to—
Hongjoong draws in a harsh breath when his hand briefly runs across his—Seonghwa's—chest.
Fuck.
The slight movement of the fabric against skin makes him gasp. He never knew that Seonghwa's nipples are this sensitive.
Of course he didn't know.
He's not supposed to know!
But now that he does know, his mind is immediately filled with thoughts, so many thoughts. Thoughts that remind him of all the times he's stared at photos of Seonghwa. Of some of his more revealing outfits. Of his perfect little nipples peaking through a tight shirt, slipping past a tanktop, showing beneath the chainmail of his latest tour fit.
The chainmail...
It is not a good idea, but Hongjoong can't help it. He has to know. He does it again, brushing a finger across the small bud on his left peck, the way that cool metal might do while wearing it.
A sharp gasp leaves his throat when a rush of heat floods right down his abdomen. He does it again, just to be sure, and he can't hold back a small moan.
Oh shit.
He heard Seonghwa moan.
And now his—Seonghwa's—dick is responding to that.
That reminds Hongjoong with renewed urgency of what he actually came here for. And if he doesn't do that now, he'll be in big trouble. Not only because his bladder might burst, but also because he is getting hard, and that would complicate things even more.
Bracing himself for the worst, Hongjoong closes his eyes, pushes the pajama pants down and takes a seat. He doesn't dare to look, he can't risk it.
Breathe, Hongjoong, breathe.
It is indignant, but somehow, miraculously, he manages to get this over with, and that, at least, is a relief. Hongjoong blows out a long audible sigh, and that is a mistake. Hearing Seonghwa's voice like this does something to his insides that should not be happening, especially not in Seonghwa's bathroom. Damn it, in Seonghwa's body, for fucks sake!
He has to get a grip on himself. Determinedly, Hongjoong reaches for the pants and stands up. And makes another mistake by looking at the mirror in the process.
Ungh.
It's not as if he's never seen a penis before. His own, of course, as well as others. But this, this is Seonghwa's cock.
Just looking down at it makes Hongjoong's insides tingle and his mouth water. He's always wondered how Seonghwa's dick would feel, has spent more time than he's ready to admit to himself imagining it. In his hand, in his mouth, up his ass. But he's never thought about what it would feel like to have it, like this, as if it was his own. At his disposal. At his mercy.
Oh.
Hey, don't do that!
But Seonghwa's dick doesn't seem inclined to listen to him. It twitches defiantly, and Hongjoong can both see and feel it filling out further.
He gasps, but he can't look away. And even if he did, he still feels everything. The eager thrum of anticipation, the simmering desire filling his lower stomach. He has always had an inkling that Seonghwa is easily aroused, judging by the frequent, mostly well hidden masturbation sessions in the bunk bed below him that Hongjoong pretended to not notice while they shared their room together all those years ago.
And is it Seonghwa who's aroused, or is it Hongjoong? His mind is whirring, trying to untangle what he's thinking and what he's feeling. When he looks up and his eyes meet themselves in the mirror, though, all thought leaves him.
There is Seonghwa standing right in front of him, with his hair mussed, his pants around his ankles and his half hard cock standing out underneath the hem of his pajama shirt. Before he knows what he's doing, Hongjoong grips the shaft of Seonghwa's cock and curls his fingers around it.
He moans, and Seonghwa in the mirror lets his mouth drop wide, eyes hazy and half lidded but honed hungrily onto the image before him. Does he ever do this, Hongjoong wonders, just stand in front of this mirror and jerk himself off to how gorgeous he looks? Hongjoong knows Seonghwa can be a little vain sometimes, as he should be. After how hard he's worked on accepting himself, to appreciate his own unique beauty.
How hot his body is, how pretty his face, how fucking perfect his cock is...
It has grown under his touch, the reddening tip leaking precum onto the floor in front of him.
Ah, Seonghwa would hate that.
Hongjoong twists his hand to catch the next drops, smearing the wetness along the shaft. It feels so good, the way the skin moves along with his touch, the weight in his hand. If only he could feel it in his mouth instead, but he doubts Seonghwa is that flexible.
Seonghwa in the mirror winces at the mere thought, his brows drawn tight and his teeth clenching onto his plush bottom lip. Just like he does in Hongjoong's fantasies.
Hongjoong's stomach erupts, full of something that desperately wants to get out.
He clasps his free hand across his mouth when he almost chokes out a small scream from running his palm across the tip. Clearly Seonghwa's cock reacts more sensitively than what he's used to from his own. Or is it the whole mind fuck of it all, that makes him feel close to coming already?
Tightening his grip and picking up the pace he's stroking himself with, he can't simply care anymore if what he's doing is wrong—if this is what he is feeling or if it's Seonghwa's body that wants this. The desire is too overwhelming to suppress, too real to not act upon.
A new thought fills his mind with an idea that almost makes him gasp at how filthy it is. The temptation...
With a slightly shivering hand, Hongjoong forms a ring with his fingers, just above the head of Seonghwa's cock. Then he slowly pushes down on it.
His mouth open with a silent scream, he lets his eyes fall shut, choosing the fantasy of lowering himself onto Seonghwa's hard cock over the delicious visuals for a moment.
He bites down hard on his lips, swallows, and begins to move his hand anew.
"Ah! God, so tight!"
Hongjoong can feel the muscles in his ass flex so hard it is almost painful, the urge to let his hips thrust into the tight grasp becoming impossible to resist. He then throws all caution to the wind, letting Seonghwa's body rut the way it wants to, fucking hard and fast into his hand. Wet noises fill the empty room when more precum hits the tiles, alongside the squelching sound of his increasingly fast strokes and the soft slaps when his palm meets his balls.
"Hongjoong!"
The name comes tumbling out before he knows it, the moan barely above a whisper. It is so desperate and needy, Hongjoong almost doubles over with how hard the want hits his guts.
The little quiver, the high pitch of Seonghwa's voice—
Hongjoong dives into the ring of his fingers with a deep, firm thrust.
"Oh! Oh, fuck!"
The hot spill of his release hits first his hand, then his shirt. The sound of Seonghwa whining uncontrollably as Hongjoong continues to rapidly move his hand in short, fast strokes, hips quivering under the overwhelm of the sensations, is enough to almost drive him insane. A final, large spurt lands right on the puddle in front of him, and with a huge gasp, Hongjoong pulls his hand away.
Too much!
Oh god, too much!
Fuck!
So much cum!
Fuck!
If he wasn't out of his mind yet, he clearly is now. Because the next thing he knows is that he watches Seonghwa in the mirror lifting his dripping hand, stretching out his long tongue and licking his own cum off of them, before pushing three fingers beyond his full, drooping lips at once and sucking every last bit off of them. Hongjoong moans needily around the digits, the flavour of his—Seonghwa's—cum filling his mouth.
Oh god.
That's too good.
This is too close to everything Hongjoong fantasized about. No, it is even better, even worse than that.
He made Seonghwa moan his name. He came harder than ever, using Seonghwa's body.
This is so wrong.
Whatever this is, he has to reverse it. But how?
A sudden thought strikes him cold. When he is Seonghwa right now, must that not mean that Seonghwa is stuck inside of Hongjoong's body in turn? That he woke up in his room, just like Hongjoong did?
Oh, fuck! He's going to freak out so hard!
Hongjoong feverishly runs through all of his mess, all the embarrassing things he's left out. What would be the worst? His private notebooks? The weeks old pile of laundry beside his desk? Did he clean up after using his dildo two nights ago, or is that still hidden under the pillow?!
A sudden knock makes Hongjoong yelp in shock.
"Hyung?" San's voice comes through the door. "Hyung!"
In a burst of panic, Hongjoong rips his pants up. He takes a rapid step, and that makes his naked foot hit the cooling puddle of cum. Disgust makes him shriek, and then everything goes so quickly he doesn't even know what happened. Turning on the spot, he slips, and then the bathroom floor tiles rush towards him. The last thought that crosses his mind is how fucking embarrassing it will be to see the tabloid headlines from the afterlife.
"Death by cum!"
"Pervert idol got what he deserved!"
The next moment, Hongjoong opens his eyes. He is blinded first by the merciless overhead lights, then second by San's beaming face, and finally by the stars in Seonghwa's eyes next to him.
With a huge gasp, Hongjoong jumps up from where he's lying. His head immediately punishes him for it by spinning so hard it almost makes him throw up. An arm catches him around the waist.
Seonghwa.
"Seonghwa!" Hongjoong shouts, "Seonghwa!"
San and Seonghwa both look at him with equal levels of confusion. But Hongjoong can't care. He has to know how fucked he is. He grasps onto the front of Seonghwa's shirt.
"Are you okay?" he urges. "Did you... Did you... You didn't look under the pillow, did you?"
Seonghwa only stares at him in blank confusion, eyes flicking between Hongjoong and the sofa next to him.
"Hyung, are you still dreaming? Sorry for waking you, but we got to go now," San jumps in, giving Hongjoong's shoulder a little pat.
And only then does Hongjoong realise that he's not in the bathroom anymore.
"The others have already gone ahead, I'll let them know you'll be there in a moment." San smiles at them, and then leaves the otherwise deserted staff room.
With an embarrassed cough, Hongjoong lets go of Seonghwa and takes a step back. His heart is racing in his chest, and the memories of what appears to have only been a dream still feel way too real to be this close to Seonghwa right now.
"S—sorry," he mutters, rubbing his neck.
Seonghwa lets out a small laugh. "You must have been really deep asleep. I'm not going to ask what you dreamed about."
Heat rushes up Hongjoong's face. He can only pray to all the available gods listening that he did not make any noises out loud.
Carefully Seonghwa reaches up and strokes a mussed strand of Hongjoong's hair back into place. Then he leans a little closer, and conspiratorially says under his breath:
"You really need to stop keeping your toys under your pillow. That's not going to end well, Hongjoongie."
With a wink, he turns and walks towards the door. Hongjoong is left frozen in place, with an uncomfortable feeling below his belt and his head full of racing questions. How will he continue his life with what he has done? With the memory of what Seonghwa's cock feels like? What it feels like to be Seonghwa?
He has to remind himself that it was all just a dream. A freakishly vivid dream. But even so—what does that dream say about him?
Well, to be fair, it is no news that he's thirsting over Seonghwa. And while dreams rarely actually become true, he supposes, one may wish.
With a sigh, Hongjoong pulls himself together and follows the other members, leaving aside the most pressing question—how does Seonghwa know about his bad habit?