Crossed Signals

K-pop info and glossary
 
Infinite
Debut: 2010, Woollim Entertainment
Fan club: Inspirit
Name Real name Birth date Role
Sunggyu Kim Sunggyu April 28, 1989 leader, main vocal
Dongwoo Jang Dongwoo November 22, 1990 main rapper, lead dancer
Woohyun Nam Woohyun February 8, 1991 lead vocal
Hoya Lee Howon March 28, 1991 main dancer, lead rapper
Sungyeol Lee Sungyeol August 27, 1991 sub-vocal
L Kim Myungsoo March 13, 1992 visual, actor
Sungjong Lee Sungjong September 3, 1993 maknae
 
This story is a sequel to "Ideal Type."
 
I write about men having sex with other men.  You must be eighteen or older to read my fiction.  This site is for consenting, responsible adults only.


            Grimacing, Woohyun rubbed his hand over his face, wiping away sweat.  They’d spent so much time in the practice room over the past few days that he was starting to lose his grip on reality.  Things like time, exhaustion, pain, and hunger had become abstract, slippery concepts.  All he really knew was that he had to go through the new routine roughly five million more times before he’d be allowed to sleep, and if he kept plugging away at it, eventually he’d whittle that number down.

            Dongwoo pressed a water bottle into his hand.  He tried to drink, realized that the cap was still on, and fleetingly understood that he was too tired to care about how tired he was.  To keep his body moving, he had to divert resources away from his brain, so luxuries like thinking had to be abandoned.  Uncapping the bottle, he took a drink.

            Wet.  The water was wet, and it was even cool, and it felt amazing.  Relieved, his body rejoiced as the wet-cool-wet slid down his throat.  Swallowing, he smiled and felt almost human again.

            And then Hoya walked across the room, right across his line of sight, and his newly rejuvenated body sent excited signals pinging straight to his brain.  Things upstairs woke up, and things downstairs perked up, and he took another drink, suddenly alive and awake and watching Hoya’s every move.

            Shirtless in black shorts and a cap, Hoya rolled his shoulders, rolled his head, loosening his muscles, showing off the hard line of his jaw.  He had to be as exhausted as everyone else in the room but he didn’t show it, and when he tried a few effortless steps, he moved lightly, easily, his feet graceful, his muscles rippling.

            Remembering kissing Hoya’s chest, remembering the softness of skin, the hardness of muscle, the sensitive nub of a nipple under his tongue, remembering licking his way down Hoya’s body, Woohyun stared, transfixed.  Turned on, he touched the bottle to his lips again, watching Hoya’s athletic body, the practiced ease with which Hoya moved.

            Practiced.  Yeah.  Hoya had a lot of practice in dancing.  And in sex.  While Woohyun had spent all of these years celibate, doing nothing more interesting than fantasizing and masturbating, how many partners had Hoya had?  How many times had Hoya gotten laid?  He knew how quickly Hoya picked up new dance moves, how well-trained Hoya’s body was.  He could only imagine what sexual experience had taught Hoya to do in bed.

            But he didn’t only have to imagine it.  He could find out.  Firsthand.  He could have Hoya whenever he wanted.  Tonight, even.  Hoya would give it to him any time he asked for it.

            He’d known that all along, but it was different now that he’d had a taste of it.  Before, he’d only had decaying memories of sex with other guys and that one awful kiss from when Hoya had confessed to him.  Now, he had potent memories of last week, when he’d crawled onto Hoya’s bed, when Hoya had kissed him, when he’d felt the stroke of Hoya’s hand and come like he’d just discovered what sex was.  Shit, that had been incredible.  And if a simple spur-of-the-moment handjob could blow his mind like that, what else could Hoya do for him?

            Facing the mirror, Hoya gave it a calm, determined look, then started the new choreography.  Every move was sharp, controlled.  They threw around the term “dance machine,” but he really was like a machine; his body had memorized the details of each movement and could perform it on command with precision, like a printer spitting out a report at the press of a button.  Woohyun wondered how he fucked.  Did he calibrate the machine depending on his partner?  Had his body memorized one set of moves for Dongwoo, another set for Sungjong?  Which ride would Woohyun get?

            Gazing at his muscular arms, his toned abs, his focused expression, Woohyun drifted forward, wanting to find out.

            “Break’s over,” Sunggyu said.  Woohyun stopped in his tracks.  His nerves were already so frayed, this added frustration made him want to throw his water bottle, but his hand only moved a fraction before he checked himself.  He was so exhausted that he was stupid, but he wasn’t that stupid.

            While Sunggyu issued orders and the members got into their spots, Hoya went over to the stereo to start the song again.  He watched Hoya go, feeling stupid and angry and relieved and a dozen other things.  It was better this way, better not to act on his desire, better to leave Hoya alone.  He’d made his decisions long ago; he’d stick to them.  That one moment on Hoya’s bed had been an aberration, not the beginning of a new trend.  He’d leave it behind him, as a memory.  It was smarter, safer that way.

            Tearing his gaze away from the smooth, muscular temptation of Hoya’s back, he stepped aside, going to his starting spot.

            “Slowing down?” Sunggyu asked him.  “Distracted?  Want to stop?”

            It was a warning, a challenge, not remotely sympathetic, and he shoved his hair back from his forehead, meeting Sunggyu’s eyes with a smirk.  “Me?  Never.”  His career came first; it would always come first.  He could waste time ogling hot guys on his deathbed.  Adopting his starting pose, he put Hoya from his mind.  Time to work.



            If Woohyun’s sex life consisted of his right hand and his imagination, he might as well have detailed, accurate fantasies, right?  Why settle for vague, shadowy fantasies when he could flesh things out?

            With that in mind, he cornered Sungjong in the kitchen.  “What’s it like when you have sex with Hoya?”  To make his question seem like everyday, casual conversation, he asked, offhandedly, “Is he any good?”

            Sungjong nodded.  “He’s good.”  He grinned, looking mischievous.  “Do you want details?”

            Yes.  “No, ew.  I just.”  He laughed, embarrassed.  “I just wondered what you’re always moaning about.”

            Sungjong blushed and smacked his arm.  “I moan because it’s sex and it feels good!  You remember that, don’t you?  It hasn’t been so long that you forgot that it feels good.”

            “Maybe,” he teased, to keep Sungjong talking.  “What about it feels good?”

            Sungjong shrugged a little and coyly averted his gaze, then met Woohyun’s eyes again with a smile.  “His cock feels terrific.  He always goes the whole way in, really deep, on every thrust, like he really wants to be in there, and it feels great.  I don’t just want to be poked at, I want to be fucked, you know, and he - - stop looking at me like that!”  Blushing, Sungjong smacked him again.  “You’re making it awkward!”

            “Since when do you talk like this?” Woohyun asked, laughing.

            “How else would I talk about sex?  You asked!  You brought it up!”

            “Our innocent maknae,” he marveled, hugging Sungjong.  “All grown up and hot for cock.”

            “Don’t ask questions if you don’t want me to answer them,” Sungjong said, pulling away and smoothing his hair.  “Why shouldn’t I like the way Hoya hyung fucks me?  He’s good at it.  When he turns music on and gets into rhythm, he can go forever, hammering it in, and I can just lay there and come over and over again.  It’s the best.”

            “You just lay there?”  That didn’t sound very fun.

            Sungjong nodded.  “Hoya hyung does all of the work.”

            It didn’t seem right that Woohyun didn’t have sex at all, while Sungjong got it whenever he wanted it and didn’t even bother to make the most of it.  “Is it supposed to be work?  Don’t you kiss him, touch him, do things?”

            “He only fucks me from behind.  How can I kiss him when he’s behind me?”

            “So roll over.  Do you forget how to move when you’re turned on?”

            “He only fucks me from behind,” Sungjong repeated.

            That was weird.  “Why?”  Confused, he poked at Sungjong, teasing.  “Doesn’t he like to look at you?”

            Sungjong shrugged and didn’t seem to care very much.  “I think it’s easier for him to think about other guys that way.  I think about other guys, too.  It’s nice.”

            That sounded awful.  Was it wrong of him to think that Sungjong was describing bad sex?  It sounded really impersonal.  Cold, disconnected.  He didn’t want to feel disconnected from his partner during sex.  What had happened between himself and Hoya had felt very sexy and earthy and carnal, but personal, too.  Intimate and even comfortable.  It had been very much a distinctly Woohyun-and-Hoya experience that he couldn’t have gotten with anyone else.

            Then again, it had been his first time with Hoya.  Sungjong, on the other hand, had been screwing Hoya for years.  Maybe, by now, the members were a little bored with each other.  Maybe they were tired of climbing on top of the same, familiar bodies and looking into the same, regular faces.  Maybe sometimes they just wanted to get off without putting a lot of emotion into it.  So much sex, year after year; it couldn’t be explosive and phenomenal and a deeply moving experience every single time.

            Sungjong thought about other guys.  Who did Hoya think about?  Some hot guy off the street?  Some sexy hoobae?  He didn’t even know what Hoya’s type was.  Well, okay, he knew that Hoya liked him, but that didn’t really count, did it?  Hoya wasn’t in love with him or anything.

            He wondered what his own ideal type was.  He’d used to have a crush on Sunggyu, but he’d grown up since then.  He and Sunggyu still had an undefined thing between them, some deep connection stronger than friendship, but he didn’t get hot and bothered over Sunggyu anymore like he’d used to.  He really only got hot and bothered over Hoya, these days.  Really hot and bothered.  Like, so hot and bothered that he timed his showers to give himself excuses to stare at Hoya’s wet, sexy, naked body.  Like, so hot and bothered that he rolled around at night, moaning, humping his bed and fingering his hole and grunting into his pillow and wishing that Hoya would fuck him.  Like, so hot and bothered that when they’d walked toward the van to come back to the dorm tonight, he’d fantasized about Hoya shoving him against the side of the van and screwing him right then and there.

            He had a problem.  An “I’ll never get a good night’s sleep again unless Hoya fucks me” problem.

            He should have stuck to celibacy.  He’d broken his streak for a quick handjob, and now his hormones were out of control.  He’d just have to stick to his goals and stay disciplined, and eventually his body would get over it.  He’d stayed celibate for this long; he could do it again.  It just took self-control.



            Woohyun crossed the parking garage toward the waiting van.  “Get in,” his manager said, jerking the door open.

            He’d left most of the other members behind.  “Do I get a prize for being on time?” he joked.

            “Yeah.  I won’t take your phone away.”

            “Oh, congratulations to me.”  Woohyun got into the van and realized, as the door closed behind him, that he wasn’t alone.  Hoya was there.

            From the backseat, Hoya flashed him a silent smile, then looked out through the window.

            No fans around, no other members, just the two of them.  Woohyun swallowed and sat down behind the driver’s seat.

            Hoya gazed steadfastly through the window as if something bad would happen if he looked away.  His tank top showed off his smooth, muscular arms.  Woohyun remembered nuzzling Hoya’s firm shoulder and bucking into Hoya’s hand.  He’d tasted delicious.  He’d smelled like cologne and musk.  Woohyun wanted to smell him now, to know what he tasted like right at this moment.

            Hoya cleared his throat and turned his head.  Woohyun tried to look normal and couldn’t remember how that worked.  “How’s your foot?”

            His foot?  What - - oh, right, the foot he’d bitten back complaints about all day.  “It’s fine.  The swelling went down since yesterday.”

            Hoya nodded.  “You should put it up tonight.  Put ice on it.”

            “Yeah.  I will.”

            Hoya grinned.  “Get the maknae to wait on you.”

            He laughed.  It wasn’t even that funny, but the way Hoya smiled at him felt good, and laughter bubbled out of him like he was high or something.

            Hoya glanced outside again, then slid down in his seat, getting comfortable, tucking an arm behind his head.  “I don’t think they’re coming.”

            “Never?”  The black fuzz of Hoya’s underarm hair fascinated him.  He wanted to touch it.  “You need to shave.”

            Hoya glanced at it and shrugged, then raised his other arm, too, lacing his fingers behind his head.  The look he gave Woohyun was so direct and so bland that Woohyun laughed again.  “If they don’t come in five minutes, let’s just go.  We can do the interview ourselves.”

            “I’ll talk about the song.  You talk about the choreography.”

            Hoya extended his arm for a high five of agreement.  Smiling, Woohyun obliged him, and then he tucked his hand behind his head again.  “I’ll answer questions about the other tracks if you cover the boring ‘which rookie group have you noticed’ and ‘what’s your ideal type’ and ‘jjambbong or jajangmyeon’ questions.”

            “Boxers or briefs?” Woohyun asked, remembering all of the trite, over-asked questions.  “If you had a sister, which member would you want to date her?  If you were a girl, which member would you date?”  He relaxed in his seat, his chin on the headrest, letting his gaze wander over the curves of Hoya’s lips.  He remembered the erotic shock of how well Hoya kissed.  “I always wonder whether I should give fan service or be honest.”

            Hoya snorted, smiling briefly before casting a dry look out the window.  “I could never be honest.”

            Woohyun told himself, warned himself, to shut up, but he couldn’t resist pushing.  He should leave it alone.  The smart, safe thing to do would be to leave it alone.  If he was a good friend, a good member, he’d leave it alone.  But he wanted to know more.  Aside from a few words the other day, Hoya never talked about liking him, and he wanted to hear it.  To feed his curiosity, to feed his ego, ignoring the anxious twist in his heart, he asked, “Oh?  You’re embarrassed to talk about your panties?”

            Hoya gave him a long, skeptical look, eyebrows up.  He loved that expression.  He loved how bored and judgmental Hoya was capable of looking.  He loved Hoya’s soft, pink little mouth and straight, thick eyebrows.  He loved Hoya’s whole sexy, handsome face.

            Trying to play it off, he laughed.  “What?”  He gave Hoya the most innocent look he could come up with.

            Hoya snorted, shook his head, and looked away again.

            “What?”  Refusing to answer wasn’t the same as telling him to shut up.  The fact that Hoya had yet to tell him to go to hell only encouraged him.  Reaching over the back of his seat, he prodded Hoya’s thigh.  “What?  Why can’t you be honest?  What are you keeping from Inspirit?”

            With a put-upon sigh, Hoya rolled his head to face Woohyun again.  “I’m in love with Sungyeol.”

            He looked so blandly straightforward that for a moment, Woohyun actually believed him.  For that instant, Woohyun’s world tumbled upside-down.

            Then, catching himself, Woohyun recognized that it was a joke.  He punched Hoya in the gut, and Hoya laughed, and he sagged against his seat, so relieved that he could only laugh along.  Shit, what an awful joke that had been.  Sungyeol!  He still felt hollow inside.  “Asshole,” he teased, to cover up how upset he was.  What was his problem today?  Not only today, he’d been off-center for days now, distracted, horny.  He’d been that way ever since - - ever since - - he had to face it: ever since the night he’d crawled into Hoya’s bed.  Ever since Hoya had gotten him off.  Ever since Hoya had given him everything he’d needed.

            It wasn’t only hormonal.  Hoya had taken care of him.  Hoya had looked out for him, kept him safe.  Kept him from going too far, given him a way out.  Set it up so that he could pin the whole thing on Hoya and keep his own hands clean.  Made it easy for him to walk away without looking back.  Hoya had given him what he’d craved and not taken anything he hadn’t been ready to give.  It was one of the sweetest, kindest, most generous things anyone had ever done for him.  He’d learned a lot about Hoya that night.  More than just how well Hoya kissed.  He’d learned the kind of person Hoya was, the kind of friend.  The kind of lover.

            The strange thing was that it didn’t match Sungjong’s description at all.  That irked him.  He was sure that his impression was right, that sex with Hoya was a perfect, sexy package - - steamy, considerate, intimate, erotic - - but Sungjong had way more experience with Hoya than he did, so naturally Sungjong had more insight than he did.  Which meant that sex with Hoya was disconnected, impersonal, everything Woohyun hadn’t experienced and didn’t want.

            “Lee Sungyeol,” Hoya said thoughtfully.  He gazed up at the ceiling and exhaled like whatever he saw up there enchanted him.  “My sexy Yeolie.”

            “Ew!” Woohyun said, laughing.  “At least say L.  I’d believe L.”

            “I only like guys my own age.”

            “Me, then.”  He knelt on his seat, crossing his arms over the back.  “You could like me.”

            Hoya gave him a skeptical once-over and grimaced.  “Too greasy.  Too hairy.  Yeolie’s better.”

            “Ya!”  What was this?  “I’m not those things!”

            Hoya pouted just a little, and he felt his temperature tick upward.  As Hoya’s gaze lazily swept over him, he shifted on his knees, wanting to climb into the backseat and kiss Hoya’s tender, pink mouth.  “Show me your teeth.”

            “My teeth?”  He chuckled, self-consciously licking his teeth.  “Are you a pervert?”

            Hoya grinned at him.  “Show me.”

            He usually only flirted with Hoya for the fans, or to amuse the other members.  He hadn’t done it at all since he’d realized that Hoya really liked him.  Doing it now turned him on, made him feel like he was treading in dangerous waters.  Leaning over the seat, he bared his teeth.

            Eyeing his mouth, Hoya made a sexy, satisfied sound.  “I like your canines.”

            Woohyun blinked.  Hadn’t Hoya said that to him before?  When they were trainees?  “You’re so sexy.  Your mouth is so sexy, you turn me on so much, I love your teeth, I love your canines.  I love your eyes, I wish you’d look at me the way you look at Sunggyu hyung.”  At the time, he’d thought that Hoya was just rambling.  Maybe it had been sincere.  Maybe Hoya had a thing for - - for what, his teeth?  “I like yours, too,” he said, to be polite.

            Hoya raised his eyebrows.  “Don’t get weird.”

            “You made it weird!” he protested, laughing.

            “They’re not as nice as my Yeolie’s teeth, though,” Hoya said, crossing his arms over his chest.  His biceps looked hard, but Woohyun knew how soft his skin was.  It was so hard not to reach over and touch him.  “He has such a sexy mouth.  And such thick hair.  I like when his bangs grow long and fall across his forehead.”

            Woohyun remembered sitting on the edge of Hoya’s bed while Hoya’s fingers slid through his hair.  He was starting to think that Hoya wasn’t actually talking about Sungyeol.  “You think he’s sexy?”

            Inhaling, Hoya leaned back.  Gazing upward, he pressed his lips together and made a satisfied sound.  “So sexy.  He’s so handsome.  Such a gorgeous body.”  For a moment, Hoya just sat in silence, smiling, like he was enjoying private thoughts.

            He was definitely not talking about Sungyeol.  Woohyun felt flattered and kind of embarrassed and turned on, hearing him say those things right out loud.

            Woohyun had known that Hoya was attracted to him, but he hadn’t realized that it was any different from Hoya’s attraction to the other members.  It was different.  Hoya liked him.  He wondered if that handjob had lingered on Hoya’s mind the way it had on his.  He wondered if Hoya replayed memories of it, if Hoya thought about the feel of his cock, if Hoya thought about the way they’d kissed.  He did.  All of the time.  Such a gorgeous body.  Would it be okay if he stripped down and invited Hoya to touch him again?  Would it be okay if he said, “Damn, your body turns me on, too.”

            He was too careful - - no, too much of a coward - - no, too smart - - to come right out and make that kind of confession.  Instead, he said, “I like Sungyeol’s body, too.  It’s so hot.  And he smells great.”

            Hoya’s gaze flicked to his, immediately meeting his eyes.  He kept his expression calm, friendly, not sure if he’d gone too far, not sure if he’d just embarrassed himself, waiting to see how Hoya would respond.  Hoya’s eyebrows went up, and then Hoya smiled a little, baring straight, white teeth.  Hunh, Hoya did have cute teeth, actually.  Wow, he needed to get a grip.  “Yeah?”

            “Yeah.”

            They just sat there smiling stupidly at each other.  Despite blushing and being embarrassed, Woohyun felt really good.  It was great to know that Hoya liked him.  It made him happy for Hoya to flirt with him and talk about how sexy he was.  Being a celebrity and being in the public eye meant that he’d heard every possible compliment and criticism of how he looked, and over the years he’d dealt with it in different ways, from taking all of it to heart to not taking any of it seriously.  What Hoya said, how Hoya felt, that was real to him; these few remarks from Hoya had more of an impact than a hundred netizen comments.

            Sudden sound interrupted Woohyun’s reverie, and as Hoya blinked, he turned in his seat to see the van door open.  Sungyeol climbed in and dropped down beside him.

            Over Sungyeol’s head, Woohyun gave Hoya a flirtatious look.  When Hoya smiled at him, looking happy about that, he kissed the air in Sungyeol’s direction and said, “Hey, sexy Yeolie.”

            Recoiling, Sungyeol gave him a wary look.  “What’s wrong with you?”

            Hoya leaned forward, sniffed the air, then grimaced.  “I thought that you said he smelled good.  He reeks like sweat.  Ya, did you shower today?”

            “I just got offstage!” Sungyeol protested.  “Don’t we all sweat onstage?  You don’t smell that great, either!”

            “We smell great,” Woohyun said.

            “You do,” Hoya told Woohyun, nodding.

            Woohyun smiled at him.  “You do, too.”

            “Are you flirting?” Sungyeol asked like he couldn’t quite believe it.

            “No,” Hoya said.  He winked at Woohyun.

            Oh, yeah.  Loving it, Woohyun licked his lips and winked back.



            The flirtation was new.  Woohyun thought that it was great.  He liked knowing that Hoya liked him, liked the back-and-forth of it, liked playing and teasing.  It was a little romantic, a little sexy; it gave him a buzz.  Even knowing that nothing would come from it, that it was all talk and no action, it turned him on.  Sometimes it was a way to release sexual energy, a way to get a minor fix.  Sometimes it got him worked up.  His sexual fantasies were a lot richer, lately; his solo sex life was livelier.

            By now, he was an expert on masturbation.  He knew his way around his cock, knew exactly what his body responded to, could get himself off in an efficient series of steps.  While that was convenient, it wasn’t exactly fulfilling, and he found that Hoya - - his interest in Hoya - - stimulated him.  Their flirtation added a lot of energy and spice.  He deliberately teased himself with memories of Hoya’s kisses, Hoya’s body against his, Hoya’s hand between his thighs.  He sat around watching Hoya, deliberately dwelling on the firm pertness of Hoya’s ass, the soft pink of Hoya’s mouth, the muscular strength of Hoya’s thighs.  He loved the athleticism of Hoya’s movements, the bite of Hoya’s humor, the way Hoya’s smiles lit up a room.

            He’d never noticed Hoya’s smiles lighting up a room before.  Maybe he hadn’t paid enough attention.

            The flirtation was uneven, though.  Sometimes it was great, sparks flying everywhere, sexual energy thrumming between them, Woohyun barely able to keep his hands to himself.  Sometimes it was brief, a quick look, a zap of sexual potential.  Sometimes Hoya didn’t respond to it, leaving Woohyun feeling confused and rebuffed.  It hurt - - it wasn’t heartbreaking, wasn’t the end of the world, but it didn’t feel great.  Maybe Hoya was tired.  They dealt with a lot of pressure, handled a lot of stress; maybe Hoya wasn’t in the mood for flirtation.

            Hoya was in the mood for sex, though.  He got it all of the time, now.  Every night, the dorm filled with grunting and groaning and rhythmic moans.  Woohyun hadn’t kept track, but it didn’t seem like it had been this frequent before.  Maybe he was horny all of a sudden.  Hearing it was a hot reminder of how great sex could be, taunting, beckoning Woohyun.  The other members’ ecstatic cries promised all of the sexual pleasure Woohyun had ever imagined, right in Hoya’s arms.

            After staying celibate for years, holding out against desire and temptation and a parade of horny hoobaes, Woohyun’s defenses should have been impenetrable.  But when he closed the door and went to bed, the steady sound of Hoya’s grunting conjured up so many urgently erotic thoughts that he spent his nights sweltering in the heat of his own lust.  He remembered the scent of Hoya’s musk, the feel of Hoya’s confident, experienced hands on his body, the sleek caress of Hoya’s tongue.  He pictured the roll and snap of Hoya’s hips, the muscular lines of Hoya’s body.  When he fantasized about Hoya crawling over him, naked and smiling and ready to fuck him, he felt so happy and so turned on that he couldn’t stand that it wasn’t real.

            He wanted it to be real.  He knew that it couldn’t be.  He’d made his decisions and established his priorities and arranged his life years ago, and he wasn’t going to throw all of that overboard because he was horny.  But all of those reasons seemed less important every time he smiled at Hoya and Hoya smiled back.



            Hoya had been in a weird mood for a couple of days.  Tense, withdrawn, definitely not responding well to Woohyun’s flirtation.  Unable to talk with him, Woohyun settled for talking about him, and approached L in the dorm after practice.  While the other members showered and went to bed, the two of them sat on the floor in the front room, L waiting for a turn in the shower, Woohyun wanting to settle things once and for all.

            The disparity between how Sungjong described sex with Hoya and what Woohyun had experienced still bothered him.  It grated on him, nagged at him, that he could have misread Hoya so badly, or that Sungjong could have sex with someone so often for so long and completely mischaracterize it.

            When Hoya went into the bathroom for his turn in the shower, Woohyun said, “He’s been getting it a lot lately.”

            L nodded.

            Woohyun grinned at him.  “Think he’ll ask you for it tonight?”

            L chuckled.  “It would be okay with me.”

            “Do you like it?”  Woohyun tried to sound casual, like he was only asking to kill time.

            L nodded again.  He gazed at the floor for a moment, then met Woohyun’s eyes again.  “It’s good.  It’s nice.”

            “What are we talking about?”  Sungyeol sat down with them, folding up his long legs.

            “Sex with Hoya hyung.  How much I like it.”

            “It’s sex,” Sungyeol said.  “What’s not to like?”

            “Not everyone’s good at it,” Woohyun pointed out.

            Sungyeol nudged him.  “How would you know?  You haven’t done it in years.”

            “It’s basic knowledge, isn’t it?” he asked, laughing.  “Not everyone’s great at sex.”

            “I am,” L said, leaning back on his hands with a smile.

            “I’m the best,” Sungyeol said.  “I’m amazing.”

            Woohyun didn’t know how long Hoya’s shower would last, so he tried to stick to his agenda.  “What’s it like with Hoya?  Fast or romantic or rough or what?”

            “Romantic?” Sungyeol asked.  “How can it be romantic when he won’t look anyone in the face?”

            “Hyung,” L said, touching Sungyeol’s arm.

            “He won’t look you in the face?” Woohyun asked.  He remembered what Sungjong had said about Hoya preferring it from behind.

            “You don’t know about his face-to-face thing?” Sungyeol asked.  “He only likes to fuck from behind.  You’re the only one he wants to do face-to-face.  I don’t know why, I can’t figure out why he’d rather look at you than at L.”

            Stunned, Woohyun stared at Sungyeol.  When he looked to L for confirmation, L looked faintly troubled but smiled at him and said, “He said something about it years ago.  Don’t take it seriously.”

            “He told Feeldog and Baram hyung about it,” Sungyeol said.  “How when he met you he finally found someone he wants to do face-to-face.  Feeldog has your number saved in his phone under ‘Face.’  It’s kind of creepy.”

            “It’s not creepy,” L objected, laughing.  “Everybody has his own sexual habits.  I like getting off with Hoya.  I don’t care if he’s behind me or in front of me or beside me.”

            Hoya liked Woohyun that much?  His experience with Hoya had been different from Sungjong’s, after all.  It wasn’t a case where he and Sungjong saw things differently; Hoya behaved differently.  He didn’t know what to think about that.  L said not to take it seriously, but how could he not?  It sounded serious.  He knew that Hoya wasn’t in love with him - - he’d asked, specifically, directly, and Hoya had told him no.  But it had been years, and Hoya still had feelings for him.

            Hoya didn’t like the other members enough to have sex face-to-face?  But Hoya liked him that much?  They were all close, all friends; he knew that Hoya loved the members.  What would set him apart?  Why would he be that much of an exception?  It sounded like Hoya hadn’t even tried to have sex in that position with L.

            While Sungyeol and L talked, Woohyun got up.  As he stepped into the doorway of Hoya’s room, his gaze swept past Sungjong, who was getting ready for bed, to rest on Hoya’s bunk.

            He’d done it again.  He’d underestimated how strongly Hoya was attracted to him.  He kept being wrong about it.  He kept thinking that he understood it all, but he hadn’t really grasped any of it yet.

            As he stood there, remembering Hoya’s hand in his hair, remembering, “he finally found someone he wants to do face-to-face,” he decided that it was the “finally” which struck him the most in that sentence.  Finally.  As if Hoya had been on a search, on a quest, and had been unsatisfied with everyone else until finally finding him, finally settling on him.  How many other guys had Hoya rejected before discovering him?  All of them, apparently.

            A sweet shock of skin on skin startled Woohyun from his thoughts as Hoya brushed past him to enter the room.  Such smooth, warm, satiny skin.  Such a firm, athletic, muscular body.  God, Hoya looked great.  So great that Woohyun wanted to reach after him, to grab him and pull him back.  His tousled hair was still damp from his shower, and he wasn’t wearing anything but short black boxer-briefs.

            Sungjong left the room.  Woohyun should have walked out, too; he had no real reason to be there.  But he stepped in farther, wrapping his hand around the edge of the top bunk, watching.

            With the careless ease of habit, Hoya rubbed lotion over his face.  Pushing the covers aside, he sat on his bed, then picked up his iPod.

            Feeling neglected - - wasn’t Hoya supposed to like him? - - Woohyun crouched down and smiled, nudging his bare thigh.  “Not talking to me?”

            Hoya gave Woohyun a blank look, then tucked his earbuds in and leaned back, stretching out.

            What, hey.  “Going to sleep?”  Woohyun reached in and tugged one of his earbuds out again.  “Ignoring me?”

            Without looking at him, Hoya put the earbud back in.

            Trying not to be annoyed or hurt, trying not to take it seriously, he laughed.  “Why are you like this?”  He grabbed the iPod from Hoya’s hand and turned it off.

            Hoya closed his eyes.

            Oh, he wanted to be irritating?  Woohyun turned it back on and turned the sound up.  Up.  Up.  Higher, until Hoya’s jaw was clenched and every note was clearly audible in the room.

            Just when Woohyun thought that he was going to suffer through it, that he was too stubborn to give in, he threw his earbuds at Woohyun and rolled onto his side, pushing himself up on his elbow and glaring.  “Trying to kill me?”

            “Trying to talk to you!”  Not that he had anything in particular to talk about.  His gaze dipped down Hoya’s body, and he wanted to feel for himself how warm Hoya’s skin was, how hard Hoya’s bare thigh was.  He wanted to rub the backs of his fingers against Hoya’s taut abdomen, wanted to leave kisses there.  He could see the swell of genitals filling out Hoya’s underwear, and he licked his lips, eyeing it.  It seemed scandalous, all of a sudden, that there was nothing between him and Hoya’s cock except a soft layer of cotton.  If he wanted to put his mouth on Hoya’s cock - - and he did, oh, yes, he did - - all he had to do was-

            A sharp shove at his forehead disoriented him and he fell back on his ass.  Slack-jawed, he blinked, and Hoya demanded, “Back for more?  That’s it?  Here to get off again?”

            “No, I.”  Yes.  Yes, he wanted to get off again.  Yes, he wanted to climb onto Hoya’s bed again.  Yes, he wanted to feel that incredible, searing ecstasy again.  Reining his lust in, drawing upon the reserves of self-control which had kept him celibate all of this time, he refocused his thoughts.  “Why are you like this?  You’ve been in a bad mood all day.”

            “Maybe I’m tired.”  Hoya glared at him.  “Someone won’t let me sleep.”

            Tired?  They were all tired; they were always tired.  “What’s wrong?  You’re upset about something?”  If so, he wanted to know what it was, wanted to help.  He felt his heart soften as he studied Hoya’s face.  “Anything I can do?”

            “Leave me alone,” Hoya muttered, snatching his iPod back.  “That’s what you can do, leave me alone.  I don’t want your stupid jokes and your greasy comments.  Don’t flirt with me, it’s annoying.”

            What?  Baffled, he tried not to feel hurt.  He’d thought that Hoya liked flirting with him.  Didn’t someone who liked him want him to flirt?  “Okay.”  He tried to smile.  “You think I’m greasy?”

            Instead of replying, Hoya put his earbuds in and lay down again, rolling over, giving Woohyun his back.

            Whoa.  That was it, then?  Conversation over?  Woohyun stayed there for a moment, registering this complete shut-out, staring at Hoya’s naked back.  He’d thought that Hoya was in a bad mood, that Hoya was just stressed out.  Maybe the problem was more specific than that.  Maybe the problem was him.  He was what Hoya was upset about.  Because he’d been flirting?  He’d thought that they were getting along, that the flirting was mutual, that they both enjoyed it.  How had he misread the situation so badly?  How had he misread Hoya?

            Confused, hurt, he wanted to crawl onto the bed, snuggle in against Hoya’s bare shoulder, and tease Hoya into talking to him.  But he’d been rejected enough for one night; he didn’t need more of it.

            He got up and left the room without another word.



            The next day, Hoya looked awful.  Really terrible.  Make-up made up for most of it, smoothing away the exhaustion around his eyes, but no make-up could bring the warmth back to his dull expression.  He moved like he was on automatic, going through the motions, dancing here, following there, bowing and greeting on cue.  He moved away whenever he could, sitting apart from the rest of them, a wall of silence separating him from the members.

            Part of Woohyun felt sick, smug satisfaction, like it served Hoya right, but most of him just felt guilty and worried.  He felt like things were off-balance, like nothing was going to be right until Hoya was okay again.  He asked Sungjong what was wrong, but Sungjong didn’t know.  He asked Dongwoo, and Dongwoo looked him right in the eye and said, “I thought you said something.  Nothing upsets him as much as you, right?  Didn’t you say something to hurt his feelings?”

            He was so astonished that he laughed.  “What?”

            “I’ll talk to him,” Sunggyu said, and started toward the chair where Hoya sat in stage clothes with his arms crossed over his chest.

            “No,” Woohyun said quickly, grabbing Sunggyu’s elbow and pulling him back.  “You’ll make it worse.”

            “Worse!  How will I make it worse?” Sunggyu asked.

            “I’ll talk to him,” Woohyun said.  He’d been itching for an excuse.  He’d probably just end up rejected and shut out again, like last night, but he wanted to try, anyway.

            “Won’t you make it worse?” Dongwoo asked him.

            “He’s my dongsaeng,” Woohyun said.  “It’s my responsibility.”

            “Isn’t he our dongsaeng, too?” Dongwoo asked.

            “You were born in the same year,” Sunggyu pointed out.

            “Seven weeks is a long time,” Woohyun said, and crossed the room.  There were no chairs around Hoya, and he didn’t want to stand around hovering over Hoya, so he squatted down beside Hoya’s chair.  When Hoya didn’t say anything, he cleared his throat.  “Nice weather.”

            Hoya didn’t reply.

            All of his other opening gambits would probably fall under either “greasy” or “flirting” or both.  Those accusations still stung, frankly.  He’d thought that he and Hoya were flirting together, that they were both into it.  Why flirt back and then act like he was the one with a problem?  He cleared his throat again, reminding himself that he was here to smooth things over, not to argue.

            With his arms crossed, Hoya had one hand balled into a fist and tucked under his elbow.  Woohyun studied his hand for a moment, for lack of anything better to do.  They’d lived together for years, but Woohyun had stopped really looking at him, assuming that there was nothing new or interesting to see.  That had been a mistake.  Everything about him was worth another look.  There were fascinating details all over him.  Like his thumbnail.  It was short, but it was a gorgeous oval shape, and-

            “What do you want?”

            The question took him by surprise, and he looked up.  Unmoving, staring ahead, Hoya didn’t look at him.  He wondered what Dongwoo had meant by, “Nothing upsets him as much as you, right?”  That was a hell of a thing to say.  “Did you sleep at all last night?”

            Hoya unfolded his arms.  Put both hands in his lap.  Rubbed his thumb over his knuckles.  “Some.”

            “Maknae keep you up all night grooming himself?  Sungyeol keep you up all night watching movies?”

            Hoya kept looking down at his hands and didn’t say anything.

            Woohyun put his hand on Hoya’s thigh.  “You-”

            Leaping to his feet, Hoya said, “Going to the bathroom,” and walked right out of the room.

            Damn.

            With a worried look, Dongwoo ran after him.

            “Good work,” Sunggyu said, clapping Woohyun on the shoulder as he stood up.  “Thanks for handling that.”



            Part of Woohyun’s strategy for staying celibate for so long had involved avoiding his members’ sex lives.  He didn’t want to hear, see, or talk about the sex they had with other people or with each other.  He’d walked in on it and walked past it, but he’d deliberately allowed as little of it to register in his mind as possible.

            That night, when he heard it happening, he decided that he wanted to see it.  He wanted to know exactly what it looked like.  He wanted to know precisely how it went.

            He got up and tracked the sound to L’s room.  The door was open, so he leaned against the doorjamb and looked in.

            L was on his pallet on the floor, on his hands and knees, Hoya behind him.  His eyes were closed, his head up, and he was moaning, grimacing, gasping, biting at his lower lip.  His long, smooth body was naked, and he had one hand between his thighs, tugging at his cock, jacking himself.

            L looked beautiful and sexy and amazing, but Woohyun’s gaze skipped right over him like he was part of the furniture.  The real point of this, what Woohyun had come to see, was Hoya.

            Hoya was naked, the entirety of his hard, muscular body there for the looking.  One hand was braced on the floor, one hand on L’s hip, and he was thrusting with a rhythmic, rolling motion, his hips moving steadily and sinuously.  His head was down; he rubbed his face against L’s bare shoulder, panting.  He muttered something Woohyun couldn’t hear, and then he rubbed his hand over the small of L’s back, kissing L’s neck.

            Stunned, Woohyun sank down into a crouch.  He stared without blinking, his heart racing away in his chest.  Maybe it had been too long since he’d had sex, or maybe he’d been watching the wrong porn, but, damn.  Was this what sex was like these days?  He was only watching and it felt better than he remembered.  Feeling hot, he sucked his lower lip in, nibbling on it.

            Maybe the difference was the way Hoya moved.  Those deep thrusts, slow and powerful, looked like they felt incredible.  So rhythmic, god, it was hypnotizing.  Every time Hoya rocked in and L gasped and moaned, Woohyun wanted to moan, too.

            “Ahh, oh, oohhh, ah.”  L squeezed his eyes shut as he gasped, tugging on his cock.  “H-h-hyung, Hoya hyung, oh, oh!”

            “Yeah,” Hoya panted.  His hand rubbed over L’s pelvis, caressed a direct path to L’s groin, and then L’s hand fell away as he took over.  Jacking L’s erection in long, firm strokes, he didn’t miss a beat, his hips still fucking in deep, hard thrusts.

            Watching Hoya’s fingers slide over the thick shaft of L’s cock, Woohyun could barely breathe.  He remembered Hoya touching him like that, stroking his erection, getting him off.  Need twisting him up in hot, throbbing knots, he writhed, aching, rubbing his hand over his thigh.  L’s ecstatic, gasping moans tormented him with the sex he wasn’t having, the orgasms Hoya wasn’t giving him.  Why couldn’t that be him, why couldn’t Hoya fuck him like that?

            “Ah, ah, uh!  Ah!  Oh, oh, hyung, oh…”  L tensed all over as he came, spurting cum in pale, silvery strands.  As Hoya’s fist milked the last dribbles out of him, he groaned, shivering, and then he slumped, rubbing at his face with one hand.  “Unh, hyung, god.”  He moaned, shivering again, swaying unsteadily as Hoya kept fucking him.  “You, ah…”

            Hoya grunted, picking up the pace.  “Hold on.”  Gripping L’s hips with both hands, he thrust with quick, hammering strokes.  His eyes closed, he grimaced, looking tense, focused.  And then, as Woohyun watched, he gasped, his hips jerking hard, thrusting off-beat, breaking the rhythm.  His head fell back, his mouth opening on a choked moan.  “Ohh-hh-ha, oh, oh, unh!”  Yanking on L’s hips, he shoved himself deep, and L squirmed back against him as he came.

            Amazed, Woohyun didn’t even have the sense to leave.  He just crouched there, panting, lusting, his cock furiously tenting his shorts.  He wanted to be the one writhing happily on Hoya’s cock.  He hadn’t been fucked in so long he felt empty inside.  How fantastic would it be to feel Hoya’s erection slide inside him, long and hard?  Shifting uncomfortably, agonized, he rubbed his hand over his chest, pulling impatiently at his own shirt, wanting to be naked and spread and fucked, wanting to climb on top of Hoya and ride Hoya’s cock until they were both glowing and satisfied and dripping with sweat.  Mmm, it had been so long, and the way Hoya’s hand stroked L’s smooth, arching back told him that Hoya had everything he needed.

            “Oh!”  L sounded surprised.  “How long have you been there?”

            He wanted to crawl over there and guide Hoya’s hand between his thighs.  It would feel so right.  Clearing his throat, trying to focus, he smiled at L.  “Don’t I live here?”

            L looked at Woohyun, looked back at Hoya, and scrubbed his hand through his own hair with his “this is between hyungs, I’m staying out of it” expression.  Hoya had picked up a washcloth and was wiping off his cock and L’s ass like no one else was in the room.  From the next room, Dongwoo laughed.

            “Okay.”  Hoya smacked L’s ass.

            L turned around and kissed him, then got up.  Touching Woohyun’s hair on the way past, he left the room.

            Hoya took one look at Woohyun and sat back, rubbing his eyes.  “What do you want?”

            “You.”  He wanted to crawl across the room and climb on top of Hoya and get everything he needed.  He wanted to kiss Hoya’s mouth and grind his cock against Hoya’s hot, hard, body and lick sweat from Hoya’s satin-soft skin.

            “No.”  Dropping his hands, Hoya met his eyes with a tired, empty expression.  “No, you don’t.”  Hoya made a move as if to gesture at him but didn’t bother to finish.  “What is this, what are you doing?  Is it a game?”  A hollow, pained laugh.  “Can we stop playing?”

            Seeing how unhappy Hoya looked threw the runaway train of Woohyun’s lust completely off-track.  Derailed, his emotions flew off in all directions.  He was still turned on, still horny, but now he felt bewildered, too, and hurt.  Not hurt for himself - - the unexpected accusation confused him more than anything - - but hurt for Hoya.  What was wrong, what had happened, why was Hoya like this?  “I don’t get it.  There’s no game.”  What was Hoya talking about?  “I don’t want you?  I do, I really do.”

            “You didn’t before.”

            He winced.  Okay, that was fair.  “I was a kid, I was stupid.  That was years ago.”  Hoya turned red and looked away, and guilt lanced him.  “I’m sorry.”

            “So now what?”  Hoya shot him a tense look.  “You’re horny, you want me to get you off?”

            Yes, but somehow it sounded bad when Hoya said it like that.  Wasn’t it okay, wasn’t it a good thing?  Didn’t Hoya want to be wanted?  Uncomfortable, he dodged the question.  “What about what you want?”

            “I want to take a shower and go to bed.”

            That stung.  He tried to laugh it off, but he couldn’t.  His smile falling, he felt his lips tighten.  Conveniently not hard anymore, he got up.  “I guess I won’t bother you anymore.”  He didn’t understand any of this, he didn’t know what Hoya’s problem was.  Hoya didn’t like him anymore?  Oh, god, when they’d made out, had he been so bad at it, so unsexy, that he’d turned Hoya off?  Had he been celibate for so long that he’d lost technique?  How bad could he have been, that he’d broken Hoya’s attraction to him?

            Hoya wasn’t interested in him.  And he’d chased after Hoya, trying to flirt, embarrassing himself, being a nuisance.  This was awful.  Humiliated, Woohyun tucked himself against the doorjamb.  No wonder Hoya had stopped flirting back.  Hoya had tried to avoid him, to dodge his attention.  He’d made an ass of himself.

            Hoya got up and left, brushing past him in silence.

            Hurt and monumentally mortified, he thunked his head against the wall and closed his eyes.  Shit.



            Things between Woohyun and Hoya were awful after that.

            Woohyun was used to setting goals and going after what he wanted.  Unfortunately, what he wanted was Hoya, and Hoya wasn’t interested.

            So he decided to stop wanting Hoya and go back to just being friends and try to establish a normal balance between them.  But he couldn’t turn off his hormones, and his emotions were all over the place, and his attraction to Hoya was way beyond his control.

            The best he could do was not to act on his feelings.  He tried not to bother Hoya, tried to keep his problem to himself.  He didn’t flirt, and he didn’t touch Hoya the seven thousand times a day his hands begged him to, and he tried to keep the staring to a minimum.  But Hoya’s horrible puns and dry sarcasm were the funniest things in the world to him lately, and Hoya’s smile tugged at his heart, and the way Hoya danced made stars sing, and he was completely in over his head.  Hoya was the best, sexiest, funniest, cutest, most talented person ever, and Woohyun liked everything he did, and even while he lectured and scolded and told himself not to stare, his gaze tracked Hoya’s every movement around the room.

            He’d developed a crush on Hoya at the exact moment that Hoya had stopped liking him.  It was funny, in a grim way.  He wondered if this was punishment for something, or a lesson.  He shouldn’t have neglected Hoya’s heart.  But he hadn’t meant to; he hadn’t realized that he was, really.  At first, Hoya’s crush on him had seemed like passing infatuation, a here-today gone-tomorrow hormonal glitch.  After that, he’d recognized that Hoya wanted to have sex with him, but Hoya had sex with the other members, so that hadn’t seemed significant.  As soon as he’d realized that maybe Hoya’s feelings ran deeper, that maybe he should take them more seriously, he’d asked, and Hoya had said no.  And then he’d returned Hoya’s feelings, only to find out that Hoya was no longer interested.  What should he have done differently?  Read Hoya’s mind?  Guessed that his own feelings would develop later?

            It was all a bunch of conflicting priorities and crossed signals and poor timing.  But it was all for the best, right?  Now Hoya was no longer a threat to his celibacy.  He could continue on as he had been, focusing on his career, keeping his priorities straight.  It was good news; he should be relieved.

            He clung to that idea, trying to find solace there.  He cheered on his ambition and planned out future successes.  He focused on his goals and put his energy into work, practice, performances, fans.

            But all of a sudden, he wanted both.

            Ambition and Hoya.

            Success and sex.

            A career and love.



            Love.

            It was daunting to realize that he was in love.

            Sure, he’d known that he loved Hoya the way he loved the other members.  He loved Hoya the way that he loved Sunggyu and Dongwoo and the rest, in a friendly, brotherly, “we’re in this together” way.  He understood that bond; it was well-tested and proven strong.

            This love was different.  This wasn’t group-wide; this was specific to Hoya.  This love made him flutter and hurt and yearn and ache; this love lit him up and broadened his world and made him feel wild with excitement.  New lyrics poured out of him too fast for his pen to commit them all to paper.  They were all terrible - - he couldn’t find the right words to capture how he felt, and his attempts were embarrassingly clumsy - - but he felt inspired and energized.  Loving Hoya made him happy, made him want to dance around and hug everyone and buy flowers for strangers.  He felt hurt and vulnerable a lot of the time, because his love for Hoya was definitely not returned and their friendship was suffering and damn, that was painful.  But he felt great a lot of the time, too.  He wanted to pull people aside on the street and point and say, “See that guy?  I’m in love with him, his name is Hoya and he’s the best.”

            It was rough, though.  Dramas made unrequited love seem interesting and theatrical, but really it was just difficult and hurtful and hopeless.  The hopelessness was the worst part, by far.  If he’d been able to convince himself that secretly Hoya was in love with him, or that it was only a matter of time before Hoya recognized his romantic potential, or that if he just stood outside in perfectly timed rain long enough Hoya would come to him, he’d find solace in that.  But he didn’t have anything to console himself with.  He didn’t have any pretty lies to tell himself.  All he had was the fact that Hoya had been interested in him, once, and he’d been too stupid, too foolish, too self-absorbed, to appreciate it in time.

            At least Hoya was in his life, a part of his everyday existence.  That was kind of amazing, when he thought about it; most people didn’t suffer unrequited love for someone they lived with, worked with, spent all of their time with, and regularly saw naked.  He tried to put a positive spin on it, to appreciate it, to relish the opportunities he had to be Hoya’s friend if he couldn’t be Hoya’s lover.

            But things between him and Hoya were awkward.  When he was alone with Hoya, he never knew what to say.  There was too much on his heart.  He had to work too hard to keep foolishly affectionate, inappropriately sentimental sentences from escaping his mouth; he was too busy holding things in to let anything out.  In return, Hoya seemed to have nothing to say to him anymore.  They’d been together for years; they must have used to talk about something.  Basic conversation about mutual friends or social plans or soccer or a simple, “How’s your mom doing lately?”  These days, if there were no other members around to guide the conversation, they sat in silence, Woohyun staring desperately, Hoya acting like Woohyun wasn’t even in the room.

            Staring desperately was Woohyun’s latest hobby.  He didn’t want to be too obvious about it; he strived for subtlety.  Instead of looking Hoya full in the face, he’d look at Hoya’s shoulder for a few minutes, then switch to Hoya’s knee, then make himself coolly look away like he wasn’t really that interested, then watch Hoya’s feet for a moment.  He focused on Hoya in pieces, a corner here, a sliver there, to make it seem like he’d meant to look at something else but had lost interest before making it there, like his gaze only rested on Hoya’s elbow in between other tasks.

            He did that to take some pressure off of Hoya, so that Hoya wouldn’t feel burdened by his attention, and he did it for himself, so that other people wouldn’t notice his infatuation.  It was a surprisingly fun habit, actually.  He felt as if he knew Hoya’s knuckles and knees and ears better than he knew his own, now.

            The last thing he wanted was to make things between them more awkward, so he tried to act normally.  If every time Hoya changed clothes, Woohyun bolted from the room, that would make their situation even weirder, even worse, so he needed to keep his cool.  But he didn’t want to hang around and stare, because that would be creepy.  So he found excuses to leave sometimes and felt awkward and obvious and stupid, and he stuck around sometimes and felt creepy and embarrassing and self-conscious.  It was just that, between living together and sharing dressing rooms and having to change clothes several times a day, he ended up seeing a lot more of Hoya than he knew what to do with.  His hormones were thrilled, and his eyes couldn’t get enough, but his heart was distressed.  Hoya’s body had been crafted out of athleticism, agility, and sex appeal, but there was no pleasure in basking in the sight of someone who didn’t enjoy his gaze.

            He envied the other members, whom Hoya joked with so easily and enjoyed so much.  He envied the fans, who could express their affection for Hoya with uninhibited zeal.  He wondered what would happen if, when Hoya walked in the room, he squealed and jumped up and down with unabashed delight.  Hoya probably wouldn’t smile and wave and throw hearts at him.

            He was on his pallet one night, stretched out on his stomach, writing lyrics, when Sunggyu came in and sat astride his back.  “Unngh.”  Groaning, he tried to shake Sunggyu off, but Sunggyu’s weight held him down.  “What do you want?” he grumbled, reaching back to swat at Sunggyu’s thighs.

            “I want you to get a grip.”

            He scoffed.  “How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t want to touch your cock.”

            “Ha!”  Laughing, Sunggyu leaned over his shoulder, tugging at his hair.  “Funny, are you being funny right now?”  Shaking his head, he batted Sunggyu’s hand away from his hair.  “Not my cock, another member’s.  How long are you going to mope around making things awkward?”

            “Mope?  I’m not moping!  What are you talking about, moping?”  He was happy.  Wasn’t he?  Okay, so he was in love with someone who was never going to love him back, and that hurt a hell of a lot, but everything else was great.  And he didn’t mope over Hoya.  It was more like pining.  Or yearning.

            “I didn’t say anything because I thought that you’d handle it on your own, but you’ve only made things worse.  Go and confess to him.”

            No!  “Are you stupid?”

            That had been the wrong thing to say, he realized, as Sunggyu shoved his face into his pillow and held him there.  “Do you want to die?”

            He flailed a little to show that he was committed to living.

            Gripping his hair, Sunggyu pulled his head up.  While he breathed in sweet, cool air, Sunggyu said, “Confess to him.  If you don’t, I’ll tell him myself.  You’re messing up everything.  I thought that you were smarter than this.  Are you going to stay this stupid?”

            “I’m not stupid!  And I can’t confess anything to anybody.”  He wasn’t surprised that Sunggyu knew that he was in love with Hoya, but he’d never said it out loud, and he didn’t know how to talk about it.  He definitely wasn’t ready to tell Hoya about it.  Hadn’t Hoya rejected him enough already?  Why make it worse?  Why force it?

            “If you don’t confess, I’m going to lock you in a room together or hold an intervention or whatever I see on TV next week.  Handle it yourself before I do it,” Sunggyu warned, climbing off of him.

            Squeezing his eyes shut, Woohyun rubbed his hands over his face.  Shit.  Not good, this was not good.  Now Sunggyu knew and, even worse, wanted to get involved.  What did Sunggyu think was going to happen if he confessed?  That Hoya would suddenly like him back?  That was over, it was done with, he’d lost his chance.

            Things must be bad, worse than he’d realized, if Sunggyu wanted him to do something about it.  Was he making things more awkward than he knew?  Was it affecting the team as a whole?  He hadn’t thought so, but maybe it was hard on the others.  He knew that it was hard on Hoya.  They barely interacted anymore.  And of course that would put a strain on the group.

            He thought about how to confess and what, exactly, he wanted to confess to, but he couldn’t decide on anything.  He spent the next day watching Hoya’s every move and trying to approach, trying to make small talk, trying to connect.  Hoya gave him curt answers and turned away every time he came too close.  It made him want to punch something or maybe just cry.

            Everyone else was going out that night, going shopping, meeting friends.  They invited him to come along - - Hoya didn’t, but Dongwoo and Sungyeol did - - but he said no.  Alone in the dorm, he exercised and showered and failed to write any decent lyrics.  He couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t think about anything but the way Hoya avoided eye contact and Sunggyu’s threat to stage an intervention.  The only thing worse than Hoya rejecting him would be Hoya rejecting him in front of everybody else.

            Feeling stupid and wistful, he stood in the doorway of Hoya’s bedroom.  There was nothing wrong with going in, nothing creepy about wanting to hang out in Hoya’s room, right?  Didn’t he live here, too?  Remembering kissing Hoya, the way Hoya had touched him, he stepped inside.  Staring at Hoya’s bunk, he remembered the slow, smooth slide of Hoya’s fist over his cock.  Groaning out loud in the silent room, he crawled onto the bed.  It was just like he’d remembered it.  Tucked against the wall, with the other bunk overhead, it felt enclosed, private.  Inhaling Hoya’s scent from the pillow, he rolled onto his side, his back to the room, running his palm over the sheet.  Turned on, breathing in deeply, he closed his eyes, letting memory and fantasy overtake him.



            “Damn it.”  Someone was behind him, pushing at his back, tugging at his shirt.  “Damn it, damn you.  What are you doing here?”  Hot breath on the back of his neck.  “Why are you here?  What do you want?”  A hand on his ass, squeezing through his shorts, and Woohyun’s waking process sped up.  This wasn’t just one of the members messing with him, being annoying.  This was Hoya.  Hoya was here, feeling him up.  He remembered suddenly that he was in Hoya’s bed.  Shit, what had he been thinking?  “Should I blow you?  Is that what you want?  You want to shove your sexy dick down my throat?”  Hoya tugged at his shorts, pulling the leg hole aside, reaching up under the fabric to caress his ass.  Surprised, turned on, he wriggled, not sure if he should squirm away or beg for more.  Hoya was drunk; he smelled soju and something sweet.  “Or are you here so I can fuck this gorgeous ass?  Is it my birthday?”

            Hot, nervous in a giddy, excited way, he began to roll over.  “Hoya, you’re drunk.”

            “No, stay.”  Pushing him down again, Hoya leaned close, face rubbing against his shoulder, breath on his neck again, right behind him.  “I’ll make it great, let me make you love it.”

            Unnh, he wanted it, and his hips were moving, rising and rubbing against Hoya’s hand.  “Feels so good,” he moaned.  He hadn’t been touched in forever, and he wanted Hoya so badly, and the feel of Hoya’s hand fondling his ass was heating him up, bringing pleasure right to the forefront, close under his skin.  “How drunk are you?”

            “Sober enough to know where the lube is.”  Hoya’s slick fingers rubbed right over his asshole, and he groaned as pleasure shot through him.  His back arched as he shoved his ass backward, his body begging for more as he gasped happily.  “Yeah, you like that.  Is that why you’re here, that’s what you came to me for?”

            “No,” he, “yes,” but, “uuunnnhhh,” he couldn’t think when he was so turned on.  He felt as excited and sensitive as if this were all new to him, like Hoya seduced him with every touch.  Hoya’s fingers breached his body, nudging inside of him, and he shoved his face against the pillow.  “Oohhh, oooohhh, fuck, yes, yes,” he couldn’t get enough of it, he was spreading his thighs, rocking his hips, twisting around at every possible angle, trying to work Hoya’s fingers deeper inside of himself.  This was, “oooo, god, ahh,” so right, so hot, “please, oh, god, Hoya.”  Fast, it was going so fast, but he needed it like this, he needed it right now, “now, please, fuck me.”  Pushing his hand down the front of his shorts, he jacked himself, stroking his stiff cock.  It was responsive, electric with pleasure, pulsing eagerly in his hand.  His whole body felt rejuvenated, excited, coming alive at Hoya’s touch.  “Hoya, yes, Hoya, please,” he moaned, thrashing and shuddering as Hoya panted against the back of his neck.

            “Oouh, yeah, you need it.”  Hoya dragged his underwear down, and as soon as he kicked out of it, he felt Hoya’s fingers spreading open his cleft, felt something smooth and blunt pushing against him.  He’d been writhing around half on his side, half-forward, but now he rolled forward fully, letting go of his cock to brace himself on one forearm, reaching back with his other hand to grasp at Hoya’s erection.  It felt hard and slippery and hot, and as he guided it into himself, he moaned loudly, enthusiastically welcoming the thick penetration.  “Hnng, yeah, oh,” Hoya groaned, entering him with a hard thrust.

            “Unnhh, yes, uuuhh, do it, again, again, fuck me.”  He’d thought that he was prepared for it, but he was stunned by the sensual ecstasy of being fucked.  It had been years since he’d ridden a big, hard cock, but he didn’t remember it feeling as incredible as this.  He was so turned on that he was gasping, shaking, his whole body going up in flames around the deep thrusts of Hoya’s erection.  He wanted more of it, more, and as Hoya screwed him in long, forceful strokes, he writhed, his hips rocking demandingly.  He felt greedy, voracious, as he bucked against Hoya’s cock.  Every deep thrust made him cry out, and he couldn’t believe that this was happening, couldn’t believe that Hoya was fucking him.  Hoya, his Hoya, god, he’d wanted this so badly, he’d become obsessed with it, and now it was happening, it was here, Hoya was plunging into him over and over again, thick and hard.

            The feel of Hoya’s hand, hot and sure, stealing over his thigh made him moan.  The moment he let go of his cock, Hoya’s hand took over, surrounding his erection in a firm grip.  As his cock throbbed, the ensuing jolt of pleasure wrenched a moan out of him, and he rocked enthusiastically, working himself crudely between the hot thrust of Hoya’s cock and the smooth grip of Hoya’s hand.

            “Yeah, ah.”  Hoya kissed his back, nuzzling his skin.  “Get off on it, come for me, want to see you come.”

            “Unh, yes, yes.”  He wasn’t ready for it to be over yet but he was coming helplessly, moaning, spurting jizz on the sheets.  Squeezing his eyes shut, he groaned as ecstasy exploded through him, and as pleasure pealed like the ringing of bells, he shuddered in Hoya’s arms, feeling high and joyful and relieved.  As satisfaction sank into him, he moaned again, his muscles relaxing.

            “God, you sound so good, how do you moan like that?”  The way Hoya rocked into him had pleasure popping in hot little bursts, and he shifted lazily, feeling good.  Hand slipping under his shirt, Hoya rubbed his abs, and the slide of Hoya’s hand, the light drag of fingertips, the slickness of sweat and lube making Hoya’s caress glide over his skin, made him want to purr with satisfaction.  His muscles went lax as Hoya continued to screw him, and he smiled, feeling completely content.  “Ah, nnh, ah, unh!  I, uh, I have to, oh, need to, ah!”  Hoya pushed into him harder, filling him deep, and he moaned, loving it, canting his hips and welcoming it.  “Fuck, take it, unh, yes.”  As Hoya grunted against his shoulder, he sighed happily, melting across the bed.

            Hoya’s weight settled onto him, and he relaxed with it.  When Hoya rubbed his thigh, he felt like a sturdy horse being rewarded for a good ride.  The image made him chuckle, and he snuggled against Hoya’s pillow, inhaling.  Mmm.  He felt really fulfilled.  Hoya had just given him something he’d needed more than he’d been able to admit.  Not just sex - - although, damn, was his body grateful for it - - but sex with Hoya, intimacy with Hoya, attention from Hoya.  The feel of Hoya’s hand on his cock again, the scent of Hoya’s musk, the private and erotic things he’d craved.

            “Oh, god.”  Hoya sounded shaken.  As their bodies separated, he reached back, gripping Hoya’s thigh harder than he probably should have, not wanting Hoya to go.  Not wanting to be told to leave.  Not wanting to face rejection.  As he realized what he’d just done, what might come next, he felt dread chill his heart.  The sweet haze of post-sex languor shattered, and he dug his fingers into solid muscle.  He had to hold onto the good things about this moment for a little while longer.  Just a little while.  “Shit.”

            Woohyun swallowed, staring at the wall.  He didn’t want to say or do anything embarrassing, like beg Hoya to let him stay, like croak out a desperate plea, like humiliate himself with a declaration of love.  He didn’t want to lose this, but he wasn’t going to mortify himself by begging for it not to end.

            Hoya nuzzled between his shoulder blades, gripping his shirt again.  He waited for Hoya to say something or to move away from him, but nothing happened.  Could he relax?  Could he stay?  Hoya’s hand stole under his shirt, caressing his side, falling still on his ribcage.

            A moment later, he heard familiar, deep breathing and realized that Hoya was asleep.

            Crowded between Hoya and the wall, sweaty and sated, Woohyun closed his eyes.  He slept better than he had in months.



            In the morning, Woohyun wakened to find himself alone in the room.  His underwear was down at the foot of the bed and Hoya was nowhere to be seen.  Feeling hurt and confused and frustrated, he got up and put his underwear on and tried to find a positive angle on the situation.

            Hoya had screwed him.  So Hoya was attracted to him.  That was great, right?

            But when they’d finished, Hoya had said, “Oh, god,” and, “Shit,” and that had sounded a lot like, “What the hell did we just do?” and “I immediately regret everything I just did.”

            Hoya wasn’t attracted to him.  Hoya had been drunk and found him there in bed, and had assumed that he was there because he was desperate for it, and had given it to him.  Under any other circumstances at all, as the last weeks had shown, Hoya wouldn’t have touched him.

            He hadn’t been there for that reason, but he had been desperate for it.  He couldn’t deny that.  The instant Hoya had touched him, he’d completely lost his grip.

            But could he blame himself for that?  He didn’t want to shame and scold himself for responding so enthusiastically; he wanted to revel in his memories.  Hoya had fucked him deeply, expertly.  Remembering the stretch and slide as Hoya’s hard cock had filled him, he smiled, pleasure rushing him in a hot wave.  He’d come eagerly, happily, at Hoya’s touch, his erection throbbing obediently in Hoya’s hand.  He missed it already, missed Hoya rocking into him over and over again, missed Hoya’s hands stroking his skin.  Missed the rhythmic panting of Hoya’s breath.  Hoya liked the way that he moaned; he could at least pathetically cling to that.

            When he took his shirt off, he frowned, finding a hole.  A new, ragged tear in the back, near the shoulder.

            He wondered if Hoya had bitten through his shirt.

            On his way to the shower, he shoved the shirt at Sunggyu.  “Hide this from me and throw it away before I keep it as a souvenir.”



            Woohyun got to practice first that night.  If he started to stretch too early, he’d have to do it all over again by the time everyone else showed up.  On the other hand, sitting around doing nothing bothered him, made him feel lazy, when he was in a place he was used to working hard.  So he warmed up his voice and started to practice some vocals.

            When the door opened, he broke off, turning.  In the doorway, Hoya gave a quick look around, swallowed, and walked in.  Facing away again, Woohyun watched in the mirror as he set his bag down, messed with his phone, and moved around the room.  Woohyun drifted to one side, getting out of the way, and he leaned over, starting to stretch.

            The room was quiet.  Way too quiet, the silence embarrassing, smothering.  Woohyun texted the kids, telling them to hurry up, and then wondered if that was what Hoya had done on his phone, too.  Was that how things were, now?  They couldn’t even be alone together for a few minutes?  They couldn’t even share this familiar space without tension?

            Unable to bear that, distressed by the deterioration of their friendship, Woohyun fumbled for a conversation topic.  “How are Feeldog and Baram hyung lately?”

            Hoya looked over at Woohyun.  Straightened.  Tugged his shirt down where it had ridden up a little as he’d stretched.  “They’re okay.”  He cleared his throat, and his gaze flickered over to the door for an instant before settling on Woohyun again.  Was he hoping for an interruption?  Or seeking a way out?  “They’re going back to Japan next week.”

            “Next week?”  Woohyun chuckled.  “Why aren’t we ever there at the same time?”

            Hoya smiled.  Looked down.  Went back to stretching.  When he spread his legs and leaned forward, the strong, corded muscles in his thighs looked fantastic.  Woohyun wanted to kneel in front of him and push the leg of his shorts up and nuzzle his exposed thigh, kiss him there, yes, wet sucking kisses up his thigh, licking upward to where his hair thickened at his groin.

            God.  Turned on, heart pounding, Woohyun inhaled, forcing himself to look away.  That didn’t work well, since his gaze slid right over to the mirrored wall.  The firm curve of Hoya’s muscular ass was so tempting, he had to swallow drool.  He wanted to cup it in his hand and squeeze.  Wanted to grip it in both hands and drag Hoya forward, against his body.  Wanted to-

            Scrape, jingle, click.

            Distracted, Woohyun frowned, looking at the door.  That had sounded like the familiar noise of someone locking the door.

            He shared a puzzled glance with Hoya, then walked forward, grabbing the knob.  It wouldn’t turn.  “Ya.”  He tugged at the knob, then pounded at the door.  “Ya!  We’re in here, you know.  Who’s out there?”  Laughing, he struck the door again.  “Ya!  Who is it?  Let us out!”

            “Sungyeol?” Hoya asked, beside him at the door now, trying the knob.  “Grandpa Gyu?  You think this is funny?”

            “Stupid,” Woohyun chuckled, taking a step back, waiting for whoever it was to unlock the door.  His phone chimed at the same time that Hoya’s did, and he found a new text from Sunggyu.

            Okay.  Have fun, you two!  See you later!

            “Later?” Hoya asked, looking up from his own phone with a frown.  “What’s he talking about?”

            Woohyun didn’t get it and didn’t like it.  “What, is he leaving us in here?  Skipping practice?”  Suddenly, he remembered what Sunggyu had said the other day.

            “If you don’t confess, I’m going to lock you in a room together or hold an intervention or whatever I see on TV next week.  Handle it yourself before I do it.”

            Oh, no.  “No, no.”  Fruitlessly, he yanked at the doorknob.  Frustrated, he kicked the door.  “What kind of hyung are you?!”

            “How long are we stuck in here?” Hoya asked.

            “I’m calling our manager,” Woohyun said.  Determinedly, he called their manager.  No answer.  Their other manager.  No answer.  Their CEO.  No answer.

            “What’s wrong with our members?” Hoya muttered, glaring at his phone.  “They won’t answer.  The stupid maknae laughed at me and hung up.”

            “Brat.  Who else has keys to that door?”

            Hoya frowned, his eyebrows drawing together.  Then his eyes widened and he said, “The Tasty hyungs!”

            “I’ll call Daeryong, you call Soryong,” Woohyun said.

            Minutes later, they were out of ideas.  While Hoya stood by the door, touching the hinges and examining the knob, Woohyun sat down, slumping against the wall.  He was pissed off at Sunggyu, but he was also upset with himself.  If he’d handled things better, Sunggyu wouldn’t have tried to pull a stunt like this.

            A locked room was the last place in the world he wanted to confess to Hoya.  He wouldn’t be able to get away.  After he confessed, Hoya would reject him, and he wanted to be able to lick his wounds in private.  As things stood, they’d have a horrendously awkward, painful conversation, and then they’d have to sit here, stuck with each other, trapped by mirrored walls.  It was like a nightmare.

            They could skip the conversation and just have sex.  Sunggyu wouldn’t be back for a while; they probably had time.  He wondered if the lube was still where L had stashed it, in that muscle balm bottle in the corner.

            Hoya sat down on the floor, his back against the door.  Woohyun wondered if he really understood why Sunggyu had locked them in.  Planting his feet on the floor, he rested his elbows on his raised knees.  Looking tired, he rubbed at his eyes.  “Shit.”  He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

            Woohyun told himself to stay away.  Immediately proceeding not to listen to himself, he got up.  The short steps across the room seemed like an interminably long walk.

            Head down, Hoya looked grim and lost.  When Woohyun crouched down in front of him, he looked up.  His expression was open and troubled for a moment, and then it settled into something harder.  “Take your clothes off.  I’ll get the lube.”

             He’d meant to explain why they’d been trapped there, had meant to lay everything on the table, had meant to confess and apologize.  But when Hoya looked right into his eyes and offered sex, he was ready to push everything else aside.

            It was incredible, deep, and satisfying.  It was the kind of fulfilling, rewarding sex he’d known that he’d get with Hoya.  He got everything he’d needed, everything he could handle, and more.  He came in a shocking rush of pleasure down Hoya’s throat while Hoya fingered him open, came a second time, worked up and enthusiastic, on his knees, hugging the wall, while Hoya fucked him, and then came a third time, slow and shuddering and helpless, in weak spurts, when Hoya milked a final burst of ecstasy out of his exhausted, panting body.  He felt drained, ragged, and blissfully sated.  Sprawled out in a sweaty heap, smeared with cum and feeling gorgeously well-plowed, he knew that he was in the same old practice room as always, the floor hard beneath him, the lights harsh above.  But he felt so rapturously happy, so magnificently satisfied, that he felt as if he might open his eyes and find himself in a dreamy meadow with butterflies and frolicking rabbits and Hoya lounging at his side, smiling at him and leaning in for a kiss.

            When he’d seen Hoya screw L, and Hoya had wiped up afterward, he’d thought that it seemed a bit fastidious; L was headed right for the shower anyway.  Now he began to understand.  Cum was dribbling out of his ass; he could feel it trickling and dripping, his thighs and balls wet and sticky with it.  He wasn’t used to feeling this messy and sloppy after sex.  He didn’t know if Hoya did it on purpose or what, but it made him feel dirty and sexy and amazingly well-fucked.

            The longer he stayed there on the floor, eyes closed, unmoving, the longer he could pretend that everything was okay.  The longer he could maintain his post-orgasmic glow.  He didn’t want his happiness to fade away, and he didn’t want Hoya to take a sledgehammer to it, either.

            But he couldn’t stay there forever.  If someone finally got his messages and came to unlock the door, this was not how he wanted to be found.  And at some point it was going to be embarrassing to be naked and huddled on the floor when the sex was well over and Hoya was dressed.

            He was pretty sure that Hoya was already dressed.  Lifting his lashes enough to peek, he checked the mirrors.  Yes; in shorts and a T-shirt again, Hoya sat beside him.

            Loosely hugging his spread knees, Hoya was looking at Woohyun’s naked back.

            He took a moment to appreciate all of the good things that had just happened, all of the ecstasy and the feel of Hoya’s hard body against his and the sounds of Hoya’s pleasure in his ears.  And then he slowly forced himself up.  He dragged his clothes on, and then he leaned against the wall and texted Sunggyu.  Please, hyung, just let us go.  This isn’t how to do it.

            It seemed like a missed opportunity to have sex in front of a mirrored wall and not make the most of it.  They could have played around, shown off.  He would have loved to watch Hoya, to see how they looked together, to memorize the sight of Hoya’s body over his.

            They’d had sex away from the mirror, facing the back of the room, instead.  The complete opposite.  Woohyun couldn’t have snuck a peek if he’d wanted to.  So much for being the special exception, the one Hoya wanted to screw face-to-face.  He’d spent most of his time on his knees, facing the wall, hugging it and scrabbling at it as he rocked back to meet Hoya’s thrusts, driving Hoya’s cock deep and begging for more.

            He wondered if the face-to-face rumor was all made up.  A joke?  A lie?  Maybe not a malicious one; maybe Sungyeol had simply been confused.  If it had been true once, it definitely wasn’t anymore.

            It hadn’t been about how good-looking he was, anyway.  If it had been true, if it had ever been real.  It had been about how much Hoya liked him.  The emotional connection Hoya wanted to make with him.

            Loving Hoya and knowing that he was too late, that he’d had his shot once and lost it, was extraordinarily painful.  It felt like punishment, like this was the world’s retribution for how lightly he’d taken Hoya’s interest in him before.  He hadn’t appreciated what he’d been given, so it had been taken away from him when he’d needed it most.  Was this his fault for not realizing what Hoya meant to him in time?  Was this Hoya’s fault for being fickle, for not holding on long enough?  Was this just some sick game of bad timing and missed opportunities?

            Wishing that he could go back and set everything right, wishing that he knew how he’d lost Hoya’s heart, desperately wishing that he could get it back, he tried the doorknob again.  Nothing.  By his foot, Hoya’s phone buzzed.  He picked it up to hand it over, and was one step in Hoya’s direction when he noticed what the new message said.

            Have you confessed yet?  Tell tell tell tell tell him!  Gyu hyung won’t let you out until you’ve said everything.  Don’t you want to get out?  Don’t you have to pee by now?

            Confess?  Confess what?  What was the “everything” Hoya should say?  “What’s this?” Woohyun asked, handing over the phone.

            “What?”  Hoya read it and shoved it into his pocket.  “Nothing.”

            This was too important to be brushed aside.  “What’s he talking about?”

            “Nothing.”  Hoya rubbed his hands over his shins and looked away.  “Nothing new.  There’s nothing to say.”

            All of this mattered way too much for Woohyun to let it go that easily.  He crouched down in front of Hoya, needing to be close for whatever came next.  “Say it anyway.”

            “Say what?”  Hoya’s expression was tense, hard.  “What haven’t I already said?  What haven’t you already heard?  I like you, I’ve liked you for years, it’s not new.  You were never interested before, why do you want to hear it now?”

            I like you.  Present tense.  Hoya had used the present tense.  Hoya liked him still, liked him now.  Woohyun was stunned, disbelieving, but already joy was breaking through.  “You-”

            “What is there to talk about?  What do you want to discuss?”  Obviously not sharing his joy, Hoya looked tense, still, and increasingly angry.  “Haven’t I given you what you wanted?  What else is left?  You don’t care about me, just my body, just sex, and now that’s not good enough, either?  I don’t have anything else for you!”

            Stricken, Woohyun grabbed at Hoya’s hand, needing to connect with him.  “No!  That’s not it, what are you saying?  I don’t care about you?  All I care about is you!  You’re all I ever see anymore!  There’s no one, nothing but you!”

            Hoya’s eyes widened like he literally didn’t understand what he saw.  “What?”

            “I like you, I like you.”  He said it insistently, happily, gripping Hoya’s hand too hard.  “I’m in love with you,” he admitted hastily, and then he rushed onward, trying to gloss over that part of it.  “I thought that you didn’t like me anymore, I thought that you were finished with me.  You-”

            “Shut up,” Hoya said, moving up onto his knees.  Cupping Woohyun’s face in both hands, he stared into Woohyun’s eyes, searching, unblinking.  “Say it again, say that thing.  Give me those words.”

            He felt nervous, excited, happy.  He felt like he was on the verge of something great but it was too monumental to be done.  “You.  I.”  Hoya’s expression was so open, so ready for it, that he couldn’t hold it back.  “I love you.”

            “Ahh.”  A shaky, ecstatic sound breaking from him, Hoya leaned forward, his forehead against Woohyun’s, his eyes closing.

            “I do, I love you,” Woohyun insisted.  Hoya’s hands caressed his face, rubbed over his jaw, stroked down his neck.  It made him so happy that he hugged Hoya closer.  When he’d imagined saying those words, he’d also imagined rejection, Hoya rebuffing him and turning him away.  This was different, altogether different, wonderfully different.  Hoya was close, keeping him close, forehead-to-forehead, face-to-face.  “I thought that you were over me,” he admitted.  “I couldn’t believe it, I finally liked you back, I was falling in love with you, and you didn’t care anymore.”

            Hoya laughed, a surprised and happy sound, and hugged him.  “How did you.  Why.  God, you asshole.  Why didn’t you tell me?!”

            “I thought you knew!  Couldn’t you guess?  Wasn’t I obvious?  Why have you been acting like this if it wasn’t because you couldn’t stand me anymore?”

            Holding him at arms’ length, Hoya stared at him as if still trying to figure him out, looking happy and shaken, gripping his shoulders.  “You aren’t interested in me, you don’t care that I like you, you just want sex.  I want to give you everything that you want, but it hurts so much.”  Looking pained, Hoya cupped his face again, caressing his jaw.  “Do you know what it’s like to be in love with someone who treats you like that?  Do you know how hard it is to say no to the person you want the most?”

            “It wasn’t like that!”  This was so awful and so terrific, so painful and so great, that Woohyun felt like he was experiencing every emotion at once.  “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” he promised, and he kissed Hoya.  “It wasn’t like that, I swear it.”  He kissed Hoya again, and Hoya kissed him back.  “I wouldn’t do that, I wouldn’t use you like that.”  He kissed Hoya again and again, dragging Hoya closer, straddling Hoya’s thigh.  “You’re in love with me?”

            “Ahh, mmm, yes,” Hoya panted, kissing him back.  “I thought you didn’t care, I thought you just wanted to get laid.”

            “No, I care, I love you.  It’s been horrible, it’s been the worst month ever.”  Nuzzling against Hoya’s cheek, loving the feel of Hoya’s skin, he panted, sliding his fingers through Hoya’s hair.  “How did I mess this up so badly?  I didn’t want to hurt you, I can’t believe you thought I didn’t care about you.”

            “I missed you.  I really missed talking to you.”  As Hoya kissed him, he felt Hoya’s hands slide under his shirt, against his skin.  “We never hang out anymore.”

            “I know, I know, me, too.”  Hearing his phone ring, his first thought was to ignore it.  Kissing Hoya was far more important than some phone call.  Then he heard Hoya’s phone, and eventually Hoya broke away from his mouth to say, “Yes?”

            “Hoya?” a voice asked.  “It’s Daeryong hyung.  Where are you, are you okay?”



            Woohyun couldn’t resist.  Hoya was stretched out on the dressing room couch, on his back, one arm behind his head.  Wanting to be near him, wanting to touch him, taking advantage of the fact that they were alone, Woohyun climbed on top of him, peering down into his face.

            Hoya’s hand came up, patted over Woohyun’s face, and pushed him away.  As he laughed, Hoya’s hand slid around to the back of his neck, stroking his nape, guiding him close again.  He let Hoya pull him in until their noses brushed, and then he whispered, “Hi.”

            With a sleepy, contented sound, Hoya opened his eyes just enough to let Woohyun see soft, dark brown.  Woohyun wanted to kiss him so badly the desire for it hurt.  “Hi,” Hoya murmured, his voice hushed and private, his gaze dropping to Woohyun’s mouth.

            They spent a lot of time on top of each other lately, a lot of time right up in each other’s face, a lot of time smiling nonsensically and finding out how close they could stand without violating laws of physics.  Being on top of Hoya was Woohyun’s second-favorite position these days, only surpassed by being under Hoya, looking up into Hoya’s face.  If he’d been on the bottom in that moment, he would’ve wound his legs around Hoya’s waist, and not even a parade of people marching into the room could’ve stopped him.

            He was so engrossed in gazing into Hoya’s eyes and being happy and aching over the need to feel the perfect softness of Hoya’s lips that he didn’t even realize Dongwoo was around until he felt a smack on his ass.  “What are you two doing?”

            He said, “Nothing,” and Hoya smiled at him.  Dongwoo’s hand was still on his ass, kneading; he reached back and slapped it away.

            “Okay, but you’re going to have to do nothing later,” Dongwoo said.  “They want Hoya next, the maknae’s almost finished.”

            It was hard to make himself move away, hard to make himself give Hoya room to get up.  He sat back, and as soon as Hoya was up he pulled Hoya down again, astride his lap.  Smiling down into his face, Hoya tugged at the open neckline of his shirt, stroking under his collarbone.  Seeing Hoya so happy with him, so comfortable, made him feel so joyful that he couldn’t control his expression, and he smiled goofily, wanting to hug Hoya, wanting to laugh.

            “Can I go?” Hoya asked, swaying back and then leaning closer, giving him a teasing little smirk.

            He relaxed against the back of the couch, still grinning foolishly.  “Only if you promise to come back.”

            Hoya gave him a slow, speculative once-over, that smirk turning lascivious.  “Yeah?  What’ll you give me if I do?”

            Breathless now, Woohyun laughed.  The room felt steamy-hot all of a sudden; he really wanted to take his shirt off.  “What do you think you want?”

            “Ya, stop being silly.  Who talks like this?” Dongwoo asked, pulling at Hoya’s arm as a stylist entered the room.  “Go, don’t keep everybody waiting.”

            As Dongwoo dragged him away, Hoya gave Woohyun a little nod and a look, confident and sexy and a little cocky, a little greasy.  Reveling in it, Woohyun threw him a heart.  He grinned, waving as Dongwoo hustled him through the door.

            Sighing fondly, feeling horny but also embarrassingly aglow with happiness, Woohyun melted against the couch a little, tucking his legs in.  He’d have to get up and change clothes in a moment, but first he wanted to do nothing more than sit there and enjoy the luxury of being in love and being loved back.  Mmm, he couldn’t wait for this shoot to be over, so he could go back to the dorm and roll onto his back so he could spread his legs and shout in ecstasy as Hoya pounded his ass and stared into his face.  He loved the way Hoya watched him while they fucked, loved having nowhere to hide, all of his pleasure right there on his face for Hoya to see.  It made sex so much more intense when he couldn’t escape Hoya’s gaze, when he couldn’t deny how he felt, when he knew that erotic ecstasy and passionate love were right there, undisguised, unhidden.  He felt like Hoya saw him, knew him, on an intimate level he was used to keeping to himself.  He loved to watch Hoya drink him in, loved how open and unguarded and available to him Hoya looked in those moments.

            Hoya jogged back into the room.  “Ah, forgot something,” he said, making a beeline for the sofa, coming right over to Woohyun.  “Phone,” he explained, tucking his hand under Woohyun’s thigh.

            “I didn’t notice it,” Woohyun said, squirming as Hoya pinched his ass.

            “You’d feel it,” Hoya said.  The stylist left the room.  “It’s bigger than it looks.”  His hand slid between Woohyun’s thighs, groping, and Woohyun gasped, writhing, grinding helplessly against his hand for a moment before smacking it away.  “Hmm, thought that was it,” Hoya said, looking puzzled.

            “That was something else,” Woohyun said, tugging his shirt down over his arousal, feeling flustered and fever-hot.  “I’ll show it to you later.”

            “I hope so.”

            Reaching around, he found Hoya’s phone behind himself.  Holding it up, he said, “You’re right, I’d definitely feel this.  I love a big, wide screen like this.  It gives the best performance.”

            Hoya’s smile was so wicked and appreciative that Woohyun felt lust sizzle over his skin.  “Yeah?  You like that?”

            “Love it,” he said, locked into Hoya’s gaze, rubbing his thumb over the case.  “Only problem with a big, powerful one like this is that sometimes it’s too big.  Doesn’t fit in my pocket.”

            “I know.”  Hoya held the phone, fingers sliding over his.  “Sometimes you have to deal with a tight fit.”

            If Hoya kept looking at him with that “I want to be inside you right now” expression, all dark eyes and sexual intent, he was going to have his pants around his ankles in another second.  “Go, go.”  Licking his lips, he smiled as he pushed Hoya away.  “Show me your phone after the shoot.  I want to see it up close.”

            Stepping back with a breathless laugh, Hoya said, “I’ll show you all of its features and benefits.  You’ll love it.”

            Oh, he did.  He rubbed his hand over his mouth, shifting impatiently on the couch as Hoya left the room again.  He definitely did.



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Copyright June 24, 2014
by Matthew Haldeman-Time