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Shota rubbed his hands together and blew warm air into his palms like he was about to enter a fighting tournament instead of sitting on his bedroom floor in a half-buttoned school shirt. The controller pressed hard into his skin as he adjusted his grip.
“Ready?” he said, already smirking.
Jongseob warmed up his wrists. “You say that every match.”
They had come straight from school again. They’ve spent so many afternoons like that since they met in middle school. Now it was their last year of high school, supposedly the most important year of their high school career. College entrance exams were in a few months, that teachers never failed to remind them of.
Yet almost every day after class, one of them ended up at the other’s house. Usually it was Shota’s since Jongseob had ulterior motives in that. Both Jongseob and Shota were interested in mastering their gaming skills and it happened that Shota’s brother was one of the most skilled players in any game you could imagine without even having a special interest in them. To Jongseob it was the coolest thing ever. He wanted one day to be like him.
He and Shota had gone through almost every game they could think of. Fighting games, racing games, co-op survival games. Borrowed discs from friends. Traded during lunch break. Once, Shota even convinced a rental shop clerk to let him “test” a game and somehow walked out with it for three days.
Now they were deep into Mortal Kombat again.
“Round one. Fight!”
Shota attacked immediately, aggressive from the first second. He mashed out a combo he’d clearly been practicing alone. On screen, his character launched Jongseob’s into the air and slammed it back down. He kept going for about three minutes and Jongseob was getting his ass beat without even a second to stand up.
“Flawless victory!” Shota shouted in English looking at Jongseob with a cocky smirk in his eyes.
“You’re too loud,” Jongseob muttered, even though he couldn’t hide the slight smile on his face.
By now, Jongseob had lost four times in a row.
“Come on,” Shota said, bouncing in place. “One more.”
“It’s no use,” Jongseob replied honestly. “I already lost four times.”
“Okay. If you win this one, you’re the overall winner. Only this game counts.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“It is now.”
Jongseob rolled his eyes. “Fine. Let’s go.”
This time, he focused properly.
He knew Shota’s habits. The jump-in at the start and the low kick fake-out. When the match began, Jongseob blocked the opening attack perfectly.
“Oh?” Shota leaned closer to the screen.
Jongseob countered with a clean combo. He had been practicing too but he never admitted it to Shota.
Shota actually stopped talking.
“Don’t get serious now,” Shota said, fingers flying across the buttons.
“I’ve been serious,” Jongseob answered.
The health bars went back and forth. This was the closest game they’d played all afternoon. Both of them were standing now without realizing it.
“Finish him!” the announcer said.
Jongseob landed a clean hit. Shota had almost no health left.
“One more,” Jongseob muttered under his breath.
He inputted the combo carefully. Forward. Down. Back. Punch.
Shota barely escaped with a lucky teleport and clipped him with a quick strike.
Now they were even.
One hit each.
Neither of them blinked.
“Shota!” his mother’s voice called from downstairs. “Come help me with dinner!”
Shota froze.
“No,” he muttered.
“Shota! Now!”
Jongseob stared at him. “You’re kidding.”
Shota looked at the screen, then at the door. “Pause it.”
“You can’t pause at the end of the fight.”
“Why not?!”
Another call from downstairs.
Shota groaned loudly and dropped the controller onto the floor. “This is so unfair.”
“You’re leaving?” Jongseob asked, trying not to sound too satisfied.
“It’s not over,” Shota said quickly. “Don’t touch it. If you press anything, it doesn’t count.”
“You said this game decides everything.”
“It still does. Just… wait. It’ll take like—”
“Like what thirty minutes? An hour? You can’t cook for shit bro.” Jongseob raised an eyebrow.
“Whatever,” Shota muttered. He was already halfway out the room. “Don’t play without me!”
And then he was gone, footsteps thundering down the stairs.
Jongseob looked at the screen. Both characters stood there, barely alive, frozen in their idle animations. He could end it right now. Instead, he set the controller aside.
From downstairs, he could still hear Shota loudly complaining about having to help with dinner.
Jongseob glanced around the messy room before noticing a stack of Spider-Man comics lying on the carpet beside the bed. He grabbed one absentmindedly and dropped onto the mattress with a sigh.
He was never really into superheroes. He preferred actual novels, which Shota constantly teased him for.
“Such a nerd,” Shota would say, as if spending hours playing video games and collecting comics somehow didn’t make him one.
Jongseob flipped through a few pages anyway, trying to read, but loud music was bleeding through the wall from down the hallway. The guitar noise kept pulling his attention away from the comic. He reread the same speech bubble three times before giving up completely.
With an annoyed huff, he tossed the comic back onto the floor and listened properly instead.
It was Blur—their most recent album, he realized almost immediately. He recognized Damon Albarn’s voice, but he couldn’t remember which track it was.
Jongseob started tapping his fingers lightly against his stomach to the rhythm before glancing toward the open bedroom door Shota had left behind. A strip of warm light stretched across the hallway floor from the room opposite.
It was Taeyang’s room. Shota’s older brother.
Taeyang was already in college, but he was back home for break right now. Jongseob wondered what he was doing. Usually, Taeyang would stop by at some point to check on them and maybe even join them for a game or two. Honestly, that was what Jongseob looked forward to the most whenever he came over.
Of course he enjoyed Shota’s company — he was his best friend after all. But talking to Taeyang always gave Jongseob this strange buzz under his skin. It felt like talking to an idol or some celebrity. He couldn’t really explain why he looked up to him so much.
Maybe it was because Taeyang seemed like the kind of person who was naturally good at everything without trying. He played guitar, sang well, and always knew about new bands before anyone else did. He’d come home carrying freshly released CDs and make them sit through entire albums, which Jongseob didn’t mind of course.
Taeyang was also ridiculously popular — with girls and boys alike.
And most importantly — he was annoyingly, very good-looking.
Before Jongseob consciously decided anything, he was already on his feet. He walked on his tip toes down the hallway, following the music. The closer he got, the clearer it became — definitely Blur.
Taeyang’s door was slightly open. Jongseob slowed near the entrance and carefully peeked through the gap.
Taeyang was at his desk, headset hanging only on his one ear, leaning forward toward his monitor, playing a game. Jongseob hesitated, then knocked lightly against the doorframe.
“Hmm?” Taeyang hummed, distracted. “Who is it?”
“It’s— it’s Jongseob,” he replied, suddenly aware of how small his voice sounded.
Taeyang turned his head immediately. The slight irritation on his face disappeared.
“Oh, Jongseob!” He lifted the headset off his ear and smiled. “Come in.”
Jongseob felt a little tension in his belly as he entered the room. It didn’t smell like a boy's room in here. Taeyang always smelled like a fresh shower and manly perfume.
“Close the door.” Taeyang added casually, before he could say anything else, eyes already returning to the screen.
Jongseob didn’t question it. He turned and gently pushed the door shut behind him with a soft click.
Jongseob looked around the room nervously — he didn’t know what to do with himself. He finally decided to sit down carefully on the edge of Taeyang’s bed, hands resting on his knees at first like he wasn’t sure how long he was allowed to stay.
Taeyang’s room felt different from Shota’s. It was definitely cleaner and had less useless shit lying around. There was a lot of music-related stuff in it. Jongseob really wanted to talk to him about music since it was one of his favorite things besides gaming. Taeyang had three neatly placed guitars on a rack next to his desk, all shining and looking brand new.
“So,” Taeyang said, eyes still on the monitor, fingers moving quickly across the keyboard. “What are you up to? Shota rage quit again?”
“He got called to help with dinner,” Jongseob replied. “We were in the middle of the last round.”
Taeyang huffed out a quiet laugh. “Unlucky.”
On the screen, his champion dodged a skill shot with perfect timing. His hands moved confidently, like he barely had to think about it. The muscles in his forearm flexed slightly every time he clicked and dragged the mouse.
Jongseob really tried not to stare.
The glow of the monitor reflected softly against Taeyang’s face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw and the smooth curve of his nose. His brows were slightly furrowed in concentration, his full lips parted just a little as he focused on the game. Even sitting casually in an old hoodie and sweatpants, he looked unfairly good.
“Too easy,” Taeyang muttered to himself as he secured a kill.
The song playing from his stereo switched, and Jongseob recognized it instantly.
“I love this song.”
The corners of Taeyang’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Do you?”
“Yeah, this album is so great. And this song…” Jongseob glanced toward the speakers. “Is it Country Sad Ballad Man? It has such a cool guitar.”
He tried hard to sound nonchalant, like he knew exactly what he was talking about.
It’s not like he didn’t. But talking to someone like Taeyang always made him feel a little like a fraud — like no matter what he said, he’d always seem infinitely less cool in comparison.
“I know, right?” Taeyang nodded approvingly, and somehow Jongseob let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “I’m actually trying to learn it on guitar. I can show you sometime.”
Jongseob’s eyes lit up before he could stop himself. He had always wondered if Taeyang would ever teach him how to play something.
“That’d be nice,” he said, trying to sound calmer than he felt.
Taeyang hummed softly and turned his attention back to the game.
The room fell quiet again except for the clicking of keys, the music, and the faint sounds coming from downstairs. Almost immediately, Jongseob felt the pressure of the conversation dying out.
Jongseob swallowed. “How’s… college?”
Taeyang made a vague sound. “Mm. It’s fine.”
“Fine?”
“It’s boring,” he said flatly, not even glancing away from the screen. “Same as school, just more expensive.”
“That’s it?” Jongseob asked.
“Pretty much.”
He clearly didn’t want to elaborate. His attention was fully on the computer screen, which made Jongseob feel annoyed a bit. He heard him quietly swearing under his breath at something happening in the game.
“What about you?” Taeyang asked after a moment. “How’s school?”
“Busy,” Jongseob answered. “Last year, you know. Teachers keep talking about exams.”
“Yeah, they love doing that.” Taeyang smirked faintly. “You’ll survive.”
There was a short pause, filled only with the sound of rapid clicking and the music still playing softly in the background.
Then, casually—
“You got a girlfriend yet?”
Jongseob stiffened. “What?”
“You heard me.” Taeyang’s lips curved into a cocky grin. “You’re in your last year already. Thought maybe you’d finally stop occupying our house all the time.”
“I’m not—” Jongseob stopped himself. “No. I don’t.”
A victory animation flashed across Taeyang’s screen. He leaned back in his chair as the round ended, stretching his arms briefly before pulling the headset fully off.
Finally, he turned toward Jongseob properly. Jongseob could swear he felt the tips of his ears turn hot.
Taeyang sat back confidently, one arm resting over the back of the chair, legs spread slightly. He had that annoyingly cocky, satisfied look he always got after winning — the same one he wore whenever he teased Jongseob, which also happened to be one of his favorite activities.
“No?” Taeyang repeated, clearly trying to get a reaction out of him.
Jongseob suddenly became very aware of the fact that he was sitting on Taeyang’s bed. “No.”
“Why not?” he pushed.
Jongseob looked down at his hands. They suddenly felt weirdly warm and sticky. “I don’t have anyone I’m interested in.”
A slow, knowing grin spread across Taeyang’s face.
“Oh yeah?” he said lightly.
Jongseob’s stomach dropped. Heat rushed to his face so fast he was sure his cheeks had turned red.
He forced himself to look up. “Do you? Have anybody, I mean?”
Taeyang didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. Got a new girlfriend, actually.”
He looked at Jongseob with a smile that showed all his teeth. Jongseob’s lips parted uselessly, suddenly at a loss for words as something tight twisted in his chest.
“N-new?”
Taeyang chuckled softly at the way Jongseob stumbled over the word.
“This one’s better than the one from last month.”
Last month. Right.
Jongseob tried not to picture it — Taeyang with a girl. For some reason, it left him feeling worse than it should have.
He already didn’t like how quickly things were changing. Taeyang going to college had felt sudden enough. Less time together, less gaming after school, less of him just… being around. Jongseob kept telling himself it was fine, that one day things would go back to normal. They will play games again. Becuase of course it was about games.
But now he couldn’t stop thinking about Taeyang moving on completely. Living with someone. Having someone else take up the space that used to belong to them hanging out like this.
“Why?” Jongseob asked before he could stop himself.
“Why what?”
“Why is she better?”
Taeyang tilted his head slightly, studying him for a second in a way that made Jongseob feel exposed.
“She kind of reminds me of you.”
Jongseob’s brain short-circuited.
“W-What?” His voice came out higher than intended, almost cracking.
Taeyang’s eyes curved slightly. He was enjoying this a little too much.
“She’s cute. Funny. Likes to play games.”
He said it casually, but each word landed heavier than the last. Jongseob could feel his ears burning.
“And,” Taeyang added smoothly, “she sucks at them. Same way you do.”
Jongseob’s mouth fell open slightly. “I don’t suck.”
“Yeah, you do,” Taeyang said without missing a beat. “It’s kind of endearing.”
He briefly wet his lips as he spoke.
Jongseob’s face felt impossibly hot. He couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed, annoyed, or something else.
Taeyang leaned forward a little in his chair, elbows resting on his knees now.
“You’re blushing,” he pointed out casually.
“I’m not.” Jongseob’s eyes widened immediately at the accusation.
His first instinct was to deny it. Because there was no way he was that obvious. But his face felt like it was burning, and his thoughts were getting messier by the second.
“You are.”
Jongseob looked away quickly. He could hear his heart beating loudly in his chest. He just hoped Taeyang couldn’t hear it too.
“Hyung, stop it,” he muttered, already feeling like he was losing control of the situation. Whatever this was, it was too much, too fast. He didn’t know where to put his thoughts, or his hands, or himself.
He just wanted air.
Then he heard the chair move, as Taeyang rolled closer. Right in front of him now, close enough that Jongseob instinctively leaned back against the bed, his body reacting before his brain could catch up.
“Oh?” Taeyang let out a quiet chuckle.
“What— what are you doing?” Jongseob questioned him, a little scared. One wrong move and he could scare the older away. He wouldn’t want to disappoint him, and Taeyang would end up thinking he’s the biggest loser on the planet.
Taeyang tilted his head slightly, studying him.
“Have you ever kissed anyone?”
The question landed heavily between them. Jongseob’s brain stalled. He opened his mouth to answer, but Taeyang leaned in before he could finish thinking.
Everything slowed down.
Jongseob could feel Taeyang’s breath first. So warm on his face. His mind screamed that this would his first kiss. That he should know what to do. That he shouldn’t look inexperienced. That he shouldn’t mess it up.
“No,” he managed to whisper.
The word brushed against Taeyang’s lips.
There was half a second of stillness.
Then he felt a hand fisting lightly in the fabric of Jongseob’s shirt and pulling him forward.
Their lips collided, a little messy with impatience.
Jongseob’s eyes widened instinctively before fluttering shut. His entire body tensed. He didn’t know where to put his hands, didn’t know how much pressure was right, didn’t know if he was responding correctly. He tried to hold his breath, but it was insanely difficult through the kiss.
But he liked it.
He liked the heat of it. The way Taeyang kissed was confident, like he already knew exactly what he was doing. There was no hesitation in him at all.
Jongseob felt Taeyang’s knees knock against his, fingertips ghosting over where his hand rested on the bed.
Jongseob tried to keep up, tried to stay calm. Even though he wasn’t religious, he prayed to God that Taeyang didn’t find him pathetic. He must have looked so ridiculous.
Don’t be awkward. Don’t think too much.
But he was thinking too much.
Does he think I’m bad at this?
He couldn’t even focus on the pressure of the lips against his. Suddenly he felt the overwhelming urge to burst into tears.
But then Taeyang pulled him a little closer, deepening the kiss, and Jongseob’s hand finally moved — gripping lightly at Taeyang’s sleeve like he needed something steady.
His heart was pounding so hard it almost hurt.
He liked Taeyang. He had liked him for longer than he wanted to admit. He couldn’t believe Taeyang would grace him with even an ounce of exclusive attention.
It was just him and Jongseob. And Taeyang kissed him.
And for a second, Jongseob didn’t know whether he wanted to melt into it… or pull away before he lost himself completely.
Taeyang placed his own hand on Jongseob’s thigh, running it up over the soft fabric of his jeans. Jongseob felt himself sweating as he reached closer and closer to where his cock was sitting, already hard.
He never imagined himself getting hard for another boy. That was so new to him. He never figured his feelings for Taeyang could be sexual like that. But now it was undeniable.
“Wait,” Jongseob pleaded.
He pushed himself away and blinked up at Taeyang. The older’s face was now tinted a shade of pink. He looked beautiful, handsome. His hair falling so annoyingly perfect onto his eyes.
Taeyang tilted his head in question, looking dumbfounded, like nothing completely insane had just happened.
“I- I’m sorry… I just don’t know—” Jongseob wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say.
He didn’t want to admit to Taeyang he is a loser. But him already saying he never kissed anybody was probably laying all the cards on the table enough.
“Don’t worry,” Taeyang flashed him a smile and moved his hand to caress his arm. “I can show you what to do.”
“Hmm?”
Jongseob wasn’t able to question anything further because Taeyang leaned down and reached for his shirt.
He swiftly unbuttoned it and lifted up the material, exposing Jongseob’s belly to the room air. It made Jongseob hiss and flinch a little, but he was too scared to move a finger.
Taeyang brought his lips near his bellybutton and licked a hot stripe, coating his skin with saliva. With one hand he pushed Jongseob further down onto a bed, fully letting him lay down on his back.
Jongseob was shivering, the stress levels rising in his body with insecurity over everything he could imagine. But maybe it was going to be easier that way. When he is just laying down at Taeyang’s mercy.
“Good,” Taeyang cooed, as he opened up his shirt further.
Jongseob tried focusing on the music currently playing. The tracks in this album had such an aggressive sound he wasn’t sure if they helped him stop the train of thoughts or overwhelmed him even further.
Without saying a word Taeyang’s hand moved, unzipping his jeans. Jongseob could feel the heartbeat in his chest hammering. He slipped his fingers under Jongseob’s waistband.
“Ah,” Jongseob whined, squeezing Taeyang’s arm tightly.
“I haven’t even done anything yet,” Taeyang mocked him under his breath.
“S-sorry,” he said quietly.
“No need,” Taeyang said. “It’s cute.”
Jongseob coughed in embarrassment. He let go of Taeyang’s arm to cover his face. “Stop that.”
Taeyang chuckled and finally pushed down his jeans with underwear down. He was on display now, he realised. Taeyang could see his cock, while he laid uselessly on the bed trembling and pathetic.
Oh God. He could see his cock.
Even when he was hard, it wasn’t big, he wouldn’t say it was average even. It’s so fucking embarassing, he wanted to crawl under the bed and escape the reality he was living now.
But Taeyang didn’t say anything. Jongseob didn’t even hear a breath of laughter from him.
But when he finally felt soft wet lips touch the tip of his cock, he flinched. He couldn’t hold the moan that escaped him suddenly.
“Ah— Hyung,” Jongseob said.
He just felt the tremble of the older’s voice against him as he hummed in approval.
Taeyang’s lips were hot, he never imagined getting a blowjob would feel so good. It was way better than just jerking off with his hand, even when he used lotion.
It would never compare. He started to imagine how Taeyang must look, with lips stretching around him.
He didn’t dare to look. The visual of it topped off with the feeling would definitely make him cum in five seconds. But oh, how he wanted to look.
Taeyang took him into his mouth again, pushing down and testing how far he can go before Jongseob screams out. He could feel tears in the corners of his eyes forming as the older slid his cock up and down to his throat.
Jognseob didn’t know what to do with his free hand that wasn’t covering his face, so he grasped uselessly at the sheets. But as Taeyang sucked on his head, he suddenly let out a choked sob.
Taeyang pulled away from him with a lewd pop sound. “Take your hand off,” he said firmly.
“Huh?” Jongseob managed, completely overwhelmed.
“From your face. I want to see you,” he repeated, gently moving Jongseob’s hand aside. “Much better.”
They both stared at each other, both looking like they had just finished a PE class. Jongseob’s chest rose and fell rapidly. He felt exposed once again. Still, he wanted to be good for Taeyang, so he laid his head back onto the bed.
Taeyang hummed and lowered his lips down again, continuing to lick up the length of his cock, before wrapping his lips around him and going down fully. He let his tongue drag along the underside of Jongseob’s cock as he lifted his head and repeated the motion.
“I’m close,” Jongseob whined, afraid to sound pathetic again.
With that, Taeyang sank down again, bobbing his head and picking up a faster pace. Jongseob couldn’t stop the sounds coming out of him. He hesitated, then slowly lifted his head just to look at Taeyang, with a dazed expression.
Taeyang looked so hot, so lewd and sexy. It was better than any porn magazine he ever held in his hands. Taeyang’s lips were flaming red, so round and perfect around him, shining from the wetness of his saliva and Jongseob’s precum.
“Ah— fuck,” he gasped, squeezing Taeyang’s shoulder as he shifted up onto his elbows, his thighs tensed up.
Jongseob’s knuckles were turning white from how hard he was grasping onto him. He tried his best to stop himself from fucking up into his beautiful mouth. Taeyang’s shiny black hair flew up and down as he sucked him off so perfectly. He was perfect. Taeyang was always perfect in everything he did.
And then his lips moved upwards and his eyes met Jongseob’s. Eyes glassy with tears.
Taeyang didn’t even have to go down on him again before Jongseob shot warm spurts of cum into his mouth with a cry.
He collapsed again onto the bed, his whole body couldn’t stop shaking. The only feeling was Taeyang licking the rest of the cum from his cock and pulling away, as the sound of distorted guitar blasted into his ears.
Jongseob was slowly coming back to himself, his breathing evening out as he felt a shadow of Taeyang looming over him.
“You are so cute, Jongseob, way better than my girlfriend,” Taeyang murmured, caressing his face.
It made Jongseob’s eyes open just slightly. He couldn’t bear to look at the perfection personified right in front of him.
Taeyang brushed the bangs from Jongseob’s forehead, while the younger just stared at him in disbelief.
“W-what?!” his voice sounded strained.
He suddenly started thinking again. Taeyang had just told him he had a girlfriend. He probably had multiple girlfriends before. So why? Why did he suddenly seem interested in a boy like him? Everything that had just happened didn’t make any sense.
“It’s true,” Taeyang said, leaning a little closer again. His dark eyes met Jongseob’s with something Jongseob couldn’t quite understand.
His fingers tightened slightly on the hem of his shirt as he tried to steady his breathing. Jongseob suddenly felt like crying again. He didn’t understand anything. But he wanted more—he wanted Taeyang. He wanted him more than anything.
His thoughts started spiraling into panic. How could he possibly keep Taeyang? How could he make him stay?
“Should I—should I do the s-same?” he blurted out.
“Huh?” Taeyang looked confused, like he wasn’t expecting that of all things he could possibly say.
Then suddenly, he heard a voice coming from the hallway.
“Jongseob-ah!” Shota’s voice pierced through the walls loudly.
Jongseob’s eyes widened. He quickly rolled to the side, scrambling to pull his jeans up and fix his clothes.
In his panic, he heard Taeyang let out a quiet chuckle.
“What’s funny?” he snapped, still flustered.
“Nothing,” Taeyang said, clearly amused, and ruffled his hair. “You can repay me next time, alright?”
Jongseob froze.
Next time.
His chest tightened as he met Taeyang’s eyes.
Taeyang didn’t hate him.
Maybe he wasn’t so pathetic that Taeyang would never want to see him again. That thought alone could have been enough for Jongseob. He nodded frantically and stood up from the bed, but didn’t move yet. He was waiting for Taeyang to say something else. He didn’t know what.
Taeyang, as if noticing that, leaned down and kissed him briefly but softly. They tasted strange, Jongseob realised, he probably was tasting himself on Taeyang. He didn’t think about it for too long—if he did he was sure he would get hard again.
“Go,” the older said, pulling away from him.
Jongseob sighed and turned away, glancing back only a couple of times while Taeyang had already returned to his desk.
He quickly stopped at the bathroom in the hallway to brush his hair, then joined Shota in his room again. Shota didn’t question anything as they got back to the game. Jongseob just mentioned briefly that he’d been in the bathroom, trying to act as normal as possible.
But it was hard not to think about it. Everything still felt too surreal, like his brain hadn’t fully caught up yet. So as soon as he got the chance, he made up an excuse that finally let him leave.
When he said goodbye, it came out a little too fast. He didn’t wait for Shota to say anything else.
“See you,” he said plainly, already stepping outside.
The walk home felt longer than usual. He pulled out his mp3 player and put on the same Blur album that Taeyang was listening to. He had too much to think about—everything that had just happened still circling in his head. And, above all else, how he was supposed to repay someone as perfect as Taeyang without completely embarrassing himself.