Xiumin looked up. Leaning over him with a patient, gentle smile, Chen offered him a hand. Beyond Chen, everyone else waited by the door.
“Everyone else” had used to mean more people than this.
He had the feeling that Chen had been saying his name for a while. And the manager would have called him before that.
Clasping Chen’s hand, he got to his feet. The show must go on, right?
-had done something to Xiumin’s hearing. He didn’t hear as well anymore. He almost never heard people the first time they spoke to him. And when he did hear people talking, he couldn’t quite catch what they were saying. The words weren’t clear to him or didn’t make sense. It was alienating. Disorienting.
Maybe it had started with Tao and Luhan fighting. Tao had been so angry, so hurt, yelling, and Luhan had been - - it hurt to remember - - and Xiumin had barely understood any of it. It had just been a rush of sounds, their angry voices, so fast. He’d wanted to join in or speak up or stop it but it had all seemed so surreal. And after those days of so much noise, too many raised voices, everything had gone quiet. He’d gone quiet. What was left to say? He’d already said so much. And Luhan had said…things.
Words didn’t seem to mean what they’d used to mean, anymore. He’d been certain that he’d understood what words like “friendship” and “together” and “love” had meant. He’d thought that loyalty was more than just a concept and that things like agreements and promises and contracts were binding. He’d thought that the private things people whispered in the dark and the intimate ways they interacted when they were alone were significant and real. But he’d been wrong about that, obviously, he’d been very wrong, monumentally wrong, about all of it.
Everything else was big and empty, and he was small and alone. He constantly, constantly felt like he was missing something, like he’d misplaced something, like there was something he’d forgotten. There was one less person to order food for. More space in the van. Fewer people milling around the waiting room. No one to backhug while they waited to go on.
Luhan had used to translate things for him, and he’d used to check the tape on Luhan’s mic, and there had just been a hundred things they did for each other without thinking about it. Hey, did you remember to send that text, wait, let me fix your hair, here’s some water, I’ll save you a seat, there’s something in my eye. They’d played soccer together and gone shopping together and banged Lay together and had fun together. They’d loved each other, or at least, he’d thought - - they’d said - - he’d felt… It…
And now he didn’t have a best friend, or a boyfriend, or a partner. He was just on his own, the short old man attached to this hot idol group. He wasn’t anyone’s tiny, sexy beast anymore. He was just the guy who’d believed in empty promises.
Some days, he was so angry he couldn’t sit still. He stayed up, moving, pacing, exercising, cleaning, anything, he just didn’t want to stop, he just didn’t want to think, he just didn’t want to feel.
Some days, he didn’t give a fuck anymore. He blew the whole thing off. He was still in SM’s best super-group, right? He was still mat-hyung. He was still looking good and making money. So he made phone calls and he went out and he fucked sunbaes and he left everything else behind him.
Suho kept trying to tell him that it wasn’t personal, that Luhan hadn’t broken up with him, Luhan had broken up with SM. It was about work and the company, it wasn’t a personal thing. But it felt pretty fucking personal. And no matter how convincing Suho tried to be, and how carefully worded Suho’s arguments were, he knew that it was all a lie, all thoughtfully planned to make him feel better. Because it was pretty fucking personal to Suho, too.
They all coped in their own ways. Suho became more determined as a leader and did his best to look after the members, spending time with Tao and Sehun like a newly divorced parent trying to reassure the kids that Mommy wasn’t going anywhere just because Daddy had moved out. Baekhyun withdrew. Lay tried to stay calm and keep a positive outlook. Xiumin, personally, didn’t know what to do. Sometimes he was angry and hurt and raw all over. Sometimes he didn’t feel a thing and didn’t care; he was numb and apathetic, and he could curl up in bed all day or go to a photo shoot or jog ten miles or stand in the shower and cry, and it all felt the same, it was all the same level of nothingness to him.
At first he wanted sex to be like it had been with Luhan, and then he wanted it to be nothing like that at all. The members tried to go along with his moods, tried to give him whatever he needed, whether that was quick and anonymous or rough and desperate or slow and embarrassingly uncertain. He wanted to close his eyes and be taken from behind and pretend, if only for a second, that he could feel Luhan again. He wanted to top and dominate and control. He wanted sex to be fun, rowdy, happy, an escape from everything else. Sometimes he didn’t know what he wanted, and he had to stop in the middle and get some space, get some air, get his shit together.
The members slept with him two at a time so that he wouldn’t wake up and think, before the icy edge of reality struck him, that he was in bed with Luhan. At least if he was in bed with two people, his waking brain would question whose body he was pressed against, as opposed to sleepily assuming that the warm, masculine arm curved around his waist was Luhan’s. Even on the nights he slept in Suho’s bed, he’d wake up to find Chen tucked in on his other side. Their beds weren’t meant for three people, so it was a close squish, but he liked that. It helped to feel a little pressed in, a little too intensely surrounded, because it made him feel less alone. Less adrift in this new world where love and friendship didn’t mean the same things anymore.
He spent some time concentrating on Luhan’s less pleasant qualities, to make himself feel better. But he really missed Luhan’s good points. He missed how much fun they’d had together, and how great about himself Luhan had always made him feel, and how butch and competitive and sweet and insecure and cute and defensive and complex Luhan could be. That had always been one of his favorite things about Luhan, how interesting Luhan was, how many sides there were to Luhan’s personality. And, honestly, he missed how fucking beautiful Luhan was. He missed Luhan’s gorgeous body and pretty, pretty face. Yeah, he was surrounded by good-looking guys, and he made out with Sehun, and he stared at Suho, but it wasn’t the same.
He missed Luhan’s intensity. He even missed Luhan’s jealousy. He went out and fucked sunbaes every chance he got, and when he got back to the dorm, Lay asked for a play-by-play, but there was no Luhan waiting for him. No one to explain himself to, no one to placate, no one being super-breezy extra-blasé about not caring where he’d been or what he’d done.
He was at noraebang, sitting in the dark with his feet on the table, texting sunbaes about hooking up, when Dongwoo took his glass from him and said, “You gotta slow down, Minnie. You’re doing everything at once and you’re feeling everything at once. You gotta take a break. Just don’t do things for a while. Sit at home, eat ramen, watch cartoons, let Byun Baekhyun blow your beautiful cock, and take a break. Give it a week, give it three months, just let go for a while, okay?”
All of a sudden, he’d felt exhausted. Absolutely fucking exhausted. He hadn’t even bothered to hit “send” on his last message. He’d just given up. Dongwoo was right. He needed a break.
So he stayed at the dorm. Not curled up in bed for hours at a time, but not maniacally exercising and cleaning, either. Just hanging out, talking to Chanyeol, watching movies with D.O., letting Tao paint his nails. He started to love blowjobs even more than he had before, because they required less commitment from him, less active engagement. And his loyal dongsaengs very cheerfully offered to blow him very, very often.
He started to feel normal again. He felt like he was getting his equilibrium back. He didn’t feel as angry, or as sad, or as numb. He laughed without feeling guilty or feeling heartsick or feeling vengeful or feeling smug; he just laughed. He gathered up his dongsaengs and went to noraebang and actually had a great time.
He was gradually getting over Luhan, the person. With the other members, he was getting over Luhan, the member and friend. And that process helped him to feel less alone. But he still wasn’t over the relationship. There were specific ways that he’d felt with Luhan, specific experiences that they’d shared. Like, he wanted too-intense sex with some too-pretty guy who was a little too great in bed. Maybe his dongsaengs should have covered that, but he was too used to them. He wanted someone else, someone different, someone who’d give him a thrill.
They flew out of the country for a festival. He was used to rooming with Luhan, and management put him in a room with Suho and Tao. Suho left a trail of crap and trash and castoff clothes all over their room, and attracted members and interruptions like flies. Tao was back and forth, in and out, up and down, talking and calling his name and asking questions and changing clothes and demanding his attention every four seconds.
“God, Tao,” he finally said, when Tao wasn’t satisfied with Sehun’s opinion of an outfit and asked for Suho’s opinion for the eighth time and Xiumin’s for the fifth. “Suho has enough to do without taking care of you. It’s like we need one leader for the rest of us and a second just to manage you.”
Sehun looked over with a bland expression. “Oh, we had one. He’s gone, too.”
Xiumin blinked. And laughed. Really, genuinely burst into laughter. It was an awful situation and the whole thing was shit but there was something absolutely hilarious to him about Sehun’s deadpan delivery. Suho joined in, laughing with him, and Sehun smiled at them.
“That, I,” Tao objected, turning from one of them to another. “Asshole,” he said, pointing at Sehun. Xiumin probably deserved that more than Sehun did, but there were some perks to being hyung.
“Ugh, god,” Xiumin said, collapsing into a chair by the window, still chuckling. “What a fucking mess.”
“You aren’t going to leave us, too, are you?” Suho asked, sitting on the armrest and squeezing his shoulder. “If you go, I’ll be the oldest, and I don’t know about that. Being mat-hyung is a lot of responsibility.”
He laughed, tipping his head back against the headrest. “It’s a lot of pressure! You probably couldn’t handle it. Don’t worry,” he promised, patting Suho’s thigh. “I’ll stay.”
Suho smiled at him, stroking his eyebrows. “Good.”
After the festival, EXO congregated in Suho’s room, which meant Xiumin’s room. They piled onto beds and made out in corners, while Sehun holed up in the bathroom texting L.Joe.
“They’re in the elevator,” Suho said. “Ya, members.” When he had everyone’s attention, he said, “Not in here. Nothing in here. You talk, you hang out, but if you want to do the rest of it, go to your rooms.”
“I can’t go to my room,” Baekhyun said. “The maknae’s doing his stuff in there with L.Joe, and if I interrupt I think that he’ll kill me. I mean, actually murder me.”
“Then go with someone else, or go to Teen Top’s rooms,” Suho said.
“Come with me,” Tao invited. “What, you’re suddenly too good for a threesome?”
“You’re not getting C.A.P. to yourself,” Chen told Baekhyun.
“Ya!” Baekhyun said, blushing. “I, I didn’t, I never… Shut up.”
Someone knocked at the door. “Room service!”
Brushing eager dongsaengs aside, Suho opened the door. “Hi, hi, come in.”
Chunji walked in and. And what else happened right after that was lost to Xiumin. All he saw was Chunji. Pretty, pretty Chunji. Hair falling over his forehead, soft and glossy. Pretty, pretty eyes sparkling with good humor and sexual intent. He was in striped pants and a T-shirt, his tongue slipping over his cherry-red lips as he ran his hand up Tao’s arm.
Different intensity. Yes. That might be a good thing. Xiumin had been looking for a thrill, and this was it. Honing in on Chunji, pushing dongsaengs out of his way, he raised an eyebrow. “Hey.”
Chunji looked away from Tao, smiling at him instead. “Hyung.”
“Aw, come on!” Tao exclaimed. “Share?”
Gazing at Chunji, already anticipating the ride to come, his engines already revving, Xiumin smiled and shook his head. “No. Your room?” he asked, taking Chunji’s hand.
Chunji laughed. “Okay, sorry,” he said, patting Tao’s chest. “What hyung says, goes.” Tossing his head to flip his hair out of his eyes, he glanced around. “L.Joe! Key!”
He hadn’t felt this way in a long time. His body felt primed, all systems go, everything operating at full capacity. As soon as Chunji locked the door, they kissed, and sexual thrill exploded through him. Chunji was exactly what he’d needed, just what he’d been missing, pretty and sexy and experienced and aggressive. They pushed and pulled each other toward the bed, leaving clothes along the way, and he felt turned on in a hot, urgent way he hadn’t felt in so long. Standing there beside the bed, he felt Chunji’s hand stroke between his thighs, pumping his hard-on, and he groaned, pushing down on Chunji’s shoulder. “Unh, suck it.”
Light kisses flitted across his neck as Chunji’s smooth, confident hand stroked his cock. “Sorry, hyung.”
Ah, shit, that was right. Chunji - - Luhan - - Chunji was selective about who he blew. Damn it. Irrationally annoyed, bordering on angry - - what, he wasn’t good enough? - - if he’d been good enough for Luhan, he was sure good enough for Chunji - - then again, he wasn’t good enough for Luhan anymore, was he? - - fuck, fuck, just fuck - - he gripped a handful of silky hair and pulled Chunji’s head back. “Not going to do it?” he asked, and it sounded like a warning, or like a threat, oh god, what was he doing?
Chunji laughed, and the hand between his thighs was on his balls, suddenly, tugging downward and slowly tightening. Something dangerous glinted in Chunji’s eye. “Want to die?”
Okay, okay. Xiumin immediately let go of Chunji’s hair, and after a significant, somewhat frightening pause, Chunji let go, too. “Sorry,” Xiumin said, and he kissed Chunji softly, apologetically. Chunji went along with it, but the energy was gone now; Chunji was holding back.
If there was anything Xiumin knew how to do, it was placate a temperamental lover. He kissed Chunji like there was no one else in the world for him, and he stroked Chunji’s body like he was attracted to every inch of it and not just the sex organs, and he whispered simple, honest, flattering things like, “God, you’re so hot,” and, “Unh, I was hard the second you walked in the room,” and, “Damn, your cock is gorgeous.” When they moved onto the bed, he lay down first, pulling Chunji over him, and there was something about being on his back while a pretty, sexually confident, smirking guy climbed on top of him that made his heart ache, made excitement flutter in his gut, and lit up parts of him that he hadn’t thought anyone could reach anymore.
Chunji warmed right back up, getting into it again, kissing him with more energy and moving against him with more desire, touching him in ways that felt amazing and shooting him sexy, appreciative looks. Chunji was long and lean and taut with muscle, and Xiumin was happy to tour every silken, masculine nook and cranny. He went down on Chunji not just because he lusted after that cock - - which he did - - but also with a familiar desire to please. He wanted Chunji to feel good, wanted Chunji to like it, wanted to make Chunji glow with pleasure.
While he was down there, Chunji started saying things. Urging him on, telling him to go for it, taunting him a little. It lit some fire in his veins, made him feel feverish with passion. He started showing off, feeling joyful and determined, really enjoying himself, making the most of it, pulling out his best tricks. The more into it Chunji sounded, insistent, breathy, writhing under his hands, the more he loved it and the better he wanted to make Chunji feel. He went all the way, pulling out all of the stops, getting Chunji off and lapping up that cream like it was some magic elixir.
Kissing Chunji’s firm thigh, he slowed down, catching his breath. This wasn’t Luhan, he knew that, and he had to remember that, but it was so good, and it was just right enough to push all of his buttons, and-
This wasn’t Luhan.
That meant that he could do things that Luhan didn’t like to do.
Pushing himself up, he rubbed Chunji’s abs. Flushed, panting, hair tousled, Chunji smiled at him, eyes gleaming. He smiled back, feeling good about himself, feeling sexually confident, feeling like he was finally back in his groove. “Can I rim you?”
Chunji raised his eyebrows, then laughed. “Sure. But don’t be shy about it. I like to really feel it.” And just that easily, he undulated, rolling over and shoving a pillow under his hips like he’d just been waiting for the invitation.
“Shit,” Xiumin breathed, running a hand over his pert, firm ass to make sure that he was real. Where the hell had Chunji been all of his life?
The rest of the night was one explosion after another. Chunji’s body was demanding, but Xiumin had missed having someone to perform for and embraced the challenge. The way Chunji talked was different enough from Luhan not to confuse him and similar enough to push his buttons, and the things Chunji said while being rimmed were incredible.
Xiumin was so hot for Chunji and so thrilled that he kept the night going for as long as he could. He fucked Chunji over and over again, learning as fast as he could, wanting to know the right moves, wanting to know what made Chunji feel best. Toward the end, Chunji got cute for him, got seductive, purring flattery into his ears and telling him how fantastic his cock felt.
In the morning, he wakened sore and exhausted to find his phone ringing and Chunji muttering, “Shit, the plane.” He showered quickly and came out to find L.Joe in the room, too. He threw his clothes on and wished that he didn’t have to rush away. He didn’t want to leave. He wasn’t ready to let go yet. He’d thought that he’d never feel that intense, erotic thrill again, that his most fulfilling sexual happiness was behind him. But here it was, in this pretty dongsaeng.
Maybe it was in other places, too. Maybe he’d overlooked it in other guys. He couldn’t wait to search around and find out.
“Shower, shower,” Chunji said, racing around in his underwear. “Where’s my-” He caught the bottle that L.Joe wordlessly tossed to him. Apparently the messy side of the room was Chunji’s, and they’d screwed in L.Joe’s bed. “Hyung.” He paused in front of Xiumin, clearly distracted, glancing at the bathroom, already thinking ahead to his shower and the flight. “Thanks.”
Xiumin put a hand on the back of his neck to focus his attention. “Call me. I want to see you again.”
Chunji smiled. “You liked it that much?”
“I did,” he said, and he kissed Chunji’s sexy, pretty mouth. Breathing against Chunji’s lips, gazing at the long, black fringe of Chunji’s eyelashes, he felt happy and hopeful again. Some dormant spark had finally been re-ignited. Impulsively, he said, “I think that we’re taking the same flight. Sit with me.”
New interest gleamed in Chunji’s eyes. He eyed Xiumin speculatively, then nodded. “Okay, hyung.” And he leaned in for another kiss.
After they got to the airport and through security, things quieted down. Tao went off to grab a drink and pose for fans, and Xiumin sat down in a corner with the other members. Pretending to be interested in his passport, he thought about last night.
He didn’t have Chunji confused with Luhan. Or at least he thought that he didn’t.
Maybe he just had a thing for good-looking guys. Who didn’t, right? Chunji and Luhan were both sexually confident and they both made sex kind of intense, and he liked that. Easy, light-hearted sex was great, but Xiumin loved a challenge, loved getting worked up, loved crashing into orgasm and feeling like he’d just accomplished some amazing feat.
Last night was the first night he’d been with another guy since he’d taken Dongwoo’s advice and laid low, but he didn’t feel uncertain about it. He didn’t have any regrets. When he thought about last night, he felt the same things all over again. He thought about the way Chunji had entered the room, and was captivated. He thought about the way Chunji had kissed him, and he shuddered with lust. He thought about running his hands over Chunji’s smooth, silky skin and thought about kissing Chunji’s firm chest, and he felt a hot pulse of desire. He thought about the obscene things Chunji had said to encourage him, and about burying his cock in Chunji’s handsome, writhing body, and about the way Chunji had undulated and rolled over when he’d asked about rimming, and, ah, shit, now he had a hard-on in public.
Aish. The fans couldn’t see it, could they? Clearing his throat, Xiumin crossed his legs, pretending to find the nearby airport signs fascinating.
“You’re hard?” Lay whispered to him, scooting closer. “What are you thinking about? How was it last night? What’d you and Chunji do?”
The day fans learned to lip-read, Lay was going to destroy EXO’s reputation. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled under his breath.
“There’s a movie that starts out like this,” Lay said. “In the airport.”
Ready to be distracted from his cock by conversation, Xiumin almost asked, “Which movie?” Then he remembered that he was talking to Lay, and that most of the time, when Lay said “movie,” he meant porn. “Don’t talk about that,” he fussed, punching Lay’s thigh.
“Ow, hyung.” Lay showed him a dimpled smile. “How’s Chunji?”
“Pretty,” he admitted. Rubbing under his nose like he had an itch, he added, “Sexy,” behind his hand.
“He likes hyungs, you know.” When Xiumin shot him a surprised look, Lay nodded. “He likes to do it with older guys. You know most of the time, all he has is his members, and everything they know they learned from each other. It turns him on to be with someone more experienced.”
Hey, Xiumin was experienced. Wait, why did that make him feel hopeful? He wasn’t trying to impress Chunji or date Chunji, or anything. Was he? God, no, of course not! The last thing he needed was to try to start a relationship right now. The prospect of it exhausted him. He still felt too bruised, and he felt jaded. He didn’t think that he’d trust anyone enough to start a relationship.
But he was attracted to Chunji. And he wanted to feel the good things that Chunji made him feel. “Who were you with last night?”
Lay made a happy, dreamy sound and gave Xiumin another dimpled smile. “C.A.P. and Niel and Kai and Chen.” Leaning closer, he whispered, “C.A.P. rammed me so deep, I-”
“Hi,” Suho said, sitting down on Xiumin’s other side.
“Oh,” Lay said, and sat back, coughing. “Sorry.”
Minutes later, the rest of EXO started chattering and calling out greetings. He looked up to see Teen Top walking down the aisle with happy, knowing grins. C.A.P. was high-fiving everyone along the way; Changjo strutted along with a smug, secretive little smirk and wiggled his fingers at Baekhyun, who burst into laughter and hid behind a magazine.
“Don’t hide now,” Tao said. “Everybody knows what you did.”
While Baekhyun threw his magazine at Tao and Suho got up to intervene, Xiumin’s gaze sought out Chunji. There. Handsome and casually dressed and smiling right at him. The moment their eyes met, Xiumin felt really good inside, really happy. When the line moved forward and Chunji reached his seat, he asked, “What is it with you? How do you make your eyes sparkle like that?”
Chunji just laughed at Xiumin and ran his fingers through Sehun’s hair. “Hey, maknae. Get up, I want to sit with Xiumin hyung.”
Sehun raised his eyebrows. “Did you ask Suho hyung?”
Chunji rolled his eyes. “I would, but he’s too busy making room for Changjo’s crap in his compartment. Get up.”
Xiumin looked. Yeah, Suho was helping Changjo stow his bag in the overhead compartment. And now Changjo was moving into the seat beside Suho while Kai shook his head in exasperated amusement and got into the aisle.
“Kai,” Tao said, jumping up. “I’ll move, you can sit here.” All of a sudden everyone was eager for intergroup seating arrangements.
Kai chuckled. “You sure, hyung?”
“I’m sure, come here, you sit here, I’ll go - - where were you going, who was Changjo sitting with?”
“Ricky,” Kai said.
“What? Hey,” Chanyeol said, pushing himself up. “It’s okay, dongsaengs, I’ll go. You’re already in your seat, don’t worry about it. I’ll handle this,” he said, waving Tao away. “Here, take my seat,” he told Kai.
“Aw, come on!” Tao objected.
“It’s better this way,” Chanyeol assured him, clapping him on the shoulder. “Let hyung handle it.”
Grinning, Chunji gestured Sehun up. “Out, kid.”
Sighing as if deeply aggrieved, Sehun made a grouchy, pissed-off face but had the sense not to aim it at anyone in particular. Gathering up his crap, he stood. “Where am I supposed to sit?”
“I don’t know, back there somewhere,” Chunji said. “Beside.” He stopped talking, stared at Sehun, and burst into laughter. “Beside.” He couldn’t hold himself together long enough to finish his sentence.
“Oh, screw it,” Sehun muttered, brushing past him.
“Oh, god, I have to see this,” Chunji said happily, kneeling on Sehun’s vacated seat and watching him go. Chunji poked at Xiumin, so he got up, too, wondering what Chunji found so funny.
The punch line was obvious in seconds. L.Joe was seated several rows back, in an aisle seat, messing with his phone, earbuds in. Stopping beside him, Sehun said, “Sunbae. Sunbae.” Sehun touched his shoulder more lightly and respectfully than Sehun touched anyone in EXO. “L.Joe sunbae.”
Blinking, L.Joe looked up. First he smiled like someone had just handed him an unexpected gift, and then he turned bright red, and then he licked his lips, touching his hair and looking self-conscious. “Oh Sehun.”
“Can I sit with you?”
L.Joe frowned, like he didn’t get it, and then looked up the aisle.
With a bright smile, Chunji waved.
“You.” L.Joe’s hand formed a fist, and he gave Chunji a threatening look.
That only seemed to make Chunji enjoy the moment more. He laughed, leaning against Xiumin for a moment. He was so gleefully wicked, Xiumin loved how happy L.Joe’s distress made him.
Sighing, L.Joe chewed on his lips and said, “Yeah, okay.” Blushing, looking both happy and completely uncomfortable, he got up, moving aside so that Sehun could take the window seat.
“Thanks, sunbae.” Sehun slipped into the seat. L.Joe shot Chunji another dirty, threatening look and sat down again.
“Whew!” With one last, happy laugh, Chunji sat down, too.
“You’re terrible,” Xiumin said, sitting beside him.
“Terrible?” Chunji asked, smiling and fixing his hair. “How? It’s good for them to sit together. They probably have a lot to talk about.”
“What do we have to talk about?” Xiumin wondered.
“I don’t know. A lot, maybe. I haven’t really seen you since…” Chunji’s voice trailed off and he laughed nervously, putting his seatbelt on. “I don’t know, is it okay to ask about that?” Then, with a more earnest look, he shook his bangs out of his eyes and touched Xiumin’s thigh. “Are you okay?”
Before, when people had expressed similar concern, he’d felt like bursting into tears. Or he’d felt furiously angry. Or he’d just hurt. Today, though, his first response was to wish that they weren’t in public, because he wanted to touch Chunji’s cheek. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’m okay. You know, the first time it happens, everybody freaks out. The second time, it’s just, ‘Oh, this again?’ Kind of boring.”
Chunji smiled at him. “No originality anymore.”
“Such a waste.” He was buckling himself in when he thought to ask, “Do you want the window?”
“No. If I want to look out, I’ll just lean over you.”
Grinning, Xiumin pushed the shade higher. “It’s a great view. You really should look.”
“Oh? Is it nice?” Chunji asked with a knowing grin, leaning in. Chunji braced himself with a hand on Xiumin’s seat, right between Xiumin’s legs. With a gasp, Xiumin spread his thighs, staring down at Chunji’s bold hand, immediately so turned on that his skin felt hot. Chunji was right in his space, leaning across his lap, gazing intently through the window. “Mmm, you’re right,” Chunji murmured, leaning even closer, his shoulder brushing Xiumin’s chest. “This is nice.”
“Yeah,” Xiumin said breathlessly, staring at his profile. “So pretty.”
“Ya.” Squirming away, Xiumin pushed at his hands. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
“Everything’s okay?” Xiumin had sounded better lately. Had more of that fun confidence back.
“Everything’s great.” Xiumin stretched, wiggling a little in his seat, and grinned. “I’m kind of seeing someone.”
Laughing, Dongwoo pulled into traffic. “Seeing? Already? You always did move fast.”
“It’s not that fast! And we’re not dating, we just meet up and hang out sometimes before we screw.” Xiumin’s head fell back against the headrest. “God, he’s hot.”
“So fucking good-looking. His eyes have this sparkle. And he rides my cock like he makes money every time he gets me off. I love it.”
Dongwoo shuddered happily, exhaling. He loved guys like that.
“Suho feels sorry for me, so he lets me invite the guy over whenever I want. I probably shouldn’t take advantage, but I’m so hot for that ass, I can’t help it.”
“So horny,” Dongwoo said, laughing, reaching over and tickling him. He yelped, twisting away and smacking at Dongwoo’s hand. “Do you share with your members?”
“They’ve already had him, but when he comes over just to see me, he’s all mine. Mat-hyung doesn’t have to share.”
“Ah, that sounds nice.” Ever since he’d joined Infinite, he had to share everything. But he didn’t mind; it was okay to share among members. The only thing he’d really wished that he could have all to himself, he hadn’t been able to keep, anyway.
He sighed, feeling that familiar pang in his chest. He wondered when that was going to stop hurting. Life was funny; the human heart was funny. It was funny that thinking about Chunji could make him feel so happy and still hurt so much. “Bring him out sometime,” he said, clapping a hand on Xiumin’s thigh. “Bring him to noraebang.”
“But then you’ll know who I’m fucking, and it’s supposed to be a secret.”
“I’ll bring a couple of people, and you bring a couple, and I’ll pretend I don’t notice.”
“That’d be fun,” Xiumin said. “Let’s do it. I’ll see if he’ll come.”
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Copyright December, 2014
by Matthew Haldeman-Time