|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|
While Hoya mumbled something about a bathroom and stumbled out of the room, Sungyeol patted his pockets and found his phone. Things were winding down; it looked like time to call Dongwoo for their ride home. Checking his phone, Sungyeol realized that it was dead. Shit. He blinked across the table until Baram came into focus. “Can I borrow your phone?”
With a slow, easy smile, Baram said, “Sure,” and handed it over. Feeldog stretched lazily across Baram’s lap, singing sleepily and off-key, and Baram chuckled, rubbing his side.
When Sungyeol put in Dongwoo’s number, it came up as “Infinite – Woo.” After calling Dongwoo, he wondered if he was in there, too. He found all of them, filed under “Infinite”: Woo, Yeol, Kyu, Jong, H, Delicious, and Face. Laughing, he asked, “Delicious and Face? You saved L as ‘Delicious’ and Woohyun as ‘Face?’ What? Why?” It seemed like the funniest thing he’d ever seen.
“That kid is delicious,” Baram said.
“Who?” Feeldog asked, sitting up. “Who’s delicious?”
“L,” Baram said.
“Oh.” Feeldog smiled. “Yeah, he is.” Making hungry, nomming sounds, he bit at Baram’s shoulder, then laughed.
“What about ‘Face?’” Sungyeol asked. “Why is Woohyun ‘Face?’” Did that make any sense?
Feeldog was still laughing. “Remember when I had Woohyun hyung saved as ‘Ideal Type’ on my phone, and Raehwan asked who my ideal type was, and Jude said, ‘Didn’t you know, it’s Nam Woohyun?’”
Baram burst into laughter. “He thought it was your ideal type?”
“He thought it was mine!” Feeldog exclaimed. “The weird kid.”
Baram shook his head like the ways of Jude’s mind were inscrutable. “It’s from back when Hoya and Nam first met,” he told Sungyeol. “Hoya called me up. ‘Hyung! I met someone I want to fuck face-to-face!’”
Feeldog burst into fresh laughter. “Why does he like it so much from behind?”
“You get a better stroke that way,” Baram explained. Raising his arms, he rolled his hips, thrusting under the table. “Don’t you want a good, deep fuck?”
What? Hoya wanted to fuck Woohyun face-to-face? Hoya wanted to fuck Woohyun at all? Sungyeol had to be way more drunk than he’d realized. Was this a hidden camera? He felt like he had to tread very carefully. Something very important and incredibly strange was happening in this conversation.
He tried to clear his mind, tried to think. Woohyun was someone’s ideal type? Whose? Licking his lips, he tried to sound normal and took a gamble. “When did Hoya tell you that Woohyun’s his ideal type?”
“Oh, years ago,” Feeldog said, like it was all ancient history. “When they first met, wasn’t it? It was his face. Those teeth, his lips, his mouth, his eyes.”
Baram laughed. “I think it’s his body, these days.”
His teeth? Was this all a joke? Sungyeol ran his hands through his hair, then shook his head and watched the room spin around him. Hoya wanted to have sex with Woohyun? Woohyun was Hoya’s ideal type?
This had to be a hidden camera on Sungyeol. But the things they’d done and talked about that night, they would never do that stuff if there were cameras around. So it had to be Hoya’s joke on Baram and Feeldog. But he’d told them the ideal type stuff years ago, back when Woohyun and Hoya had met. What kind of joke ran for that long?
Hoya wanted Woohyun?! Sungyeol rubbed the sides of his head, trying to make this bizarre new information fit into his brain. Hoya and Woohyun? Sure, they were close, but all of the members were close. Hoya had sex with half of the members and never with Woohyun. Then again, Woohyun didn’t have sex with anyone on the team, not even Sunggyu.
Hoya came back into the room and sat down heavily beside him. “Their bathroom. Is purple.”
What? Sungyeol blinked at him. “Their bathroom’s green.”
Staring at Hoya, Feeldog sputtered with laughter. “Hyung! Where were you?”
“He was joking!” Sungyeol protested.
L smiled a little. “Was he?”
“That’s creepy! You think he’s into teeth?”
L shrugged. It didn’t seem creepy at all, to him. Teeth were just one more detail that could make a person unique. “If he likes canines, he might like Woohyun hyung’s. And he might like the way they shape Woohyun hyung’s mouth, and how his lower lip sticks out. His lips, his mouth, his teeth, the things that Feeldog said.”
Sungyeol didn’t look convinced. “Hoya’s weird. Maybe he was talking about the maknae. We know he likes Sungjong.”
The detail about “face-to-face” seemed significant. “He only fucks Sungjong from behind.”
Sungyeol stared at him in delight and scandalized surprise. “How do you know?”
“Sungjong told me. ‘Hoya hyung always does it from behind. It’s so nice, I can close my eyes and pretend he’s anybody.’ I’ve seen him with Dongwoo hyung, too, and it’s always from behind when I watch.”
“He has to be face-to-face with you,” Sungyeol said. “If he’s not, he must not want to look at anybody.”
L shook his head. “He always gets behind me.”
“If he doesn’t want to look at you, he’s not going to want to look at Woohyun! Besides, Feeldog said that Hoya likes his eyes, too, and how much sense does that make? Woohyun doesn’t have interesting eyes. They’re just eyes, they don’t look like anything. What would he like about them?”
Thinking, L rolled his tongue in his mouth. Then he smiled, intrigued. “Let’s find out.”
No one wanted to play, but Sungyeol was so insistent that eventually they gave in and tried it. For features, Hoya and Sunggyu chose obscene body parts - - “L’s cock,” “the hair on Dongwoo’s balls” - - and Woohyun kept saying things like “Dongwoo hyung’s height” and “Sunggyu hyung’s laziness.” That kept things interesting, and Hoya found himself enjoying the game.
Then L said, “Woohyun hyung’s eyes. Hoya hyung.”
He opened his mouth, intending not to miss a beat, to play it cool. And then he found himself hesitating, and his gaze strayed to the right, to Woohyun, to Woohyun’s eyes.
Woohyun smiled, widening his eyes, blinking with deliberate slowness.
Damn him. Hoya tried to laugh, to cover the moment, but it only sounded nervous. And he couldn’t think of any way to answer besides the truth. “They’re really intense when he’s performing. Lots of charisma.” To move on quickly, he said, “L’s feet. Sungyeol.”
He knew that L hadn’t meant anything by it, and he hated that it had rattled him. He’d been working and living with Woohyun for years now, and he’d been forced to learn how to ignore his attraction, how to let it go. By now, he excelled at pretending that he didn’t notice Woohyun, that there was no difference between Woohyun and the other members, that he was no more interested in Woohyun sexually than in the floor or the walls. He kept it private, kept it to himself, reserved it for quiet moments when no one was around to see the yearning in his eyes or the need running through his body.
But there were moments, odd moments, when he was caught by surprise, when something struck him, when he couldn’t look away from Woohyun’s smile, when the muscular strength of Woohyun’s thighs seemed to taunt him, when Woohyun looked at him and said his name and he was so breathless with desire that he couldn’t remember how to reply. Damn, he stared at Woohyun in mute incomprehension far more than he wanted to.
Sometimes he wondered why he wasn’t better at hiding it, and berated himself for being so obvious. And sometimes he marveled at the fact that he ever made it through the day without grabbing Woohyun by the shoulders and shouting. Shouting what, exactly, he didn’t know. Something incredibly embarrassing, probably, which was why he tried to hold his shit together.
The game continued on for a few more rounds and then Sungyeol said, “Woohyun’s teeth. Hoya.”
What the hell. Immediately suspicious, Hoya looked at Woohyun. Seeming surprised, Woohyun laughed, then put his hand up, covering his mouth. Then, looking amused but ever so slightly embarrassed, he lowered his hand. Okay. So he hadn’t put Sungyeol up to this. Relaxing, Hoya said, “They’re white. And they’re not as scary as Dongwoo hyung’s teeth.”
“That’s it?” Sungyeol asked.
He was up to something. He knew something. On guard, Hoya smiled joylessly. “That’s it. Sunggyu hyung’s stubble. Maknae.”
What had Sungyeol expected him to say? He remembered very clearly what he’d said to Woohyun, years before, when they were trainees. They’d been in the practice room, alone, seated on the floor, in the corner, waiting for someone. Woohyun had said something about not looking like an idol, about not having the right face for it, and Hoya had said, “You’re very handsome.” He’d felt so nervous about saying it that he’d almost been scared, but it had been a relief to get the words out, to put his feelings out there. He’d been holding it all in so tightly, his confession came with a sense of physical release.
Woohyun had laughed. It was surprised, happy laughter, his eyes startled and crinkling at the corners. “Are you high right now?”
“You’re so sexy.” Now that he’d opened the dam, it was all coming out in a rush. He knew that he was going too far, but he felt powerless to stop it. “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.” It had been awful and embarrassing, and Woohyun had been staring at him like someone on the verge of either bursting into laughter or running away depending on his next move. And his next move had made everything worse. “I’m so hard for you right now, please,” he’d moaned, and he’d launched himself at Woohyun, knocking Woohyun backward against the wall and pressing their mouths together.
Woohyun’s reaction had been to punch him right in the balls, but even the very memorable physical pain of that wasn’t nearly as excruciating as the psychic pain of his shame, his humiliation. He’d exposed his heart, had made himself vulnerable, and Woohyun had rejected him.
The ostensible reason had been that Woohyun didn’t plan to have sex with any of the trainees or, eventually, members. He didn’t want to risk the complications inside the group, and he didn’t want to risk the scandal if anyone found out. Hoya believed that he was sincere about that; he was driven, committed, and making personal sacrifices for the sake of his career was acceptable to him.
But there had been another reason, one that he hadn’t had to put into words. He hadn’t wanted Hoya. Not then, not now, and not at any point in between.
“Woohyun’s cock.” Sungyeol’s voice broke the reverie. “Hoya.”
Hoya froze, his head down, his cup in his hand, his muscles locking as dark and violent thoughts flitted across his mind. Sungyeol was up to something. Sungyeol knew something.
“Ya,” Woohyun was saying, sounding bored and annoyed. “We’ve played enough.”
“What, now?” Sungyeol asked. “You don’t want to hear what he has to say about it?”
“If you want to talk about my cock so much, you say something about it,” Woohyun said.
“Hey, I don’t care about it,” Sungyeol protested.
“You brought it up,” Woohyun pointed out, his voice teasing now. “Is it on your mind that much?”
What did Sungyeol know? Who else knew? Had he been too obvious? Sunggyu knew - - Sunggyu had always known - - and Dongwoo had figured it out, and sometimes he wondered if Sungjong had noticed.
The difference was, Sungjong hadn’t said anything about it, and Dongwoo had talked to him about it directly, privately. This, this game, whatever Sungyeol was doing, this was different, and it felt threatening, felt like he was being taunted, mocked, like he was being stripped, exposed, made vulnerable in front of others and against his will.
How did Sungyeol know? The comment about teeth, how would Sungyeol know-
Fuck. Feeldog. Baram. They’d said something. They’d been drunk, and they must have said something, let it slip. Whatever they’d said, however direct or vague, Sungyeol had put it together. Shit.
“Where are you going?” Sungyeol asked.
Sunggyu was getting up, Dongwoo following his lead, Sungjong already starting to clean up. “Aren’t we finished?” Sunggyu asked dismissively.
“Hoya didn’t answer,” Sungyeol said.
“Does he need to?” Sunggyu asked. “We’ve all seen Woohyun’s cock. It’s not interesting.”
“Ya!” Laughing, Woohyun reached up and punched Sunggyu’s thigh. “It’s terrific!”
“You never do anything with it, anyway,” Sunggyu said, lightly kicking his hip.
“Why won’t you answer?” Sungyeol asked Hoya, prodding his side. “Are you embarrassed?”
Finally trusting himself to school his expression, he looked up and met Sungyeol’s eyes. “Shouldn’t you be embarrassed? Being so obvious?”
“Obvious about what?” Sungyeol asked, confused, self-conscious.
“About pushing and digging around. Did you really believe what Feeldog said about me?”
Sungyeol glanced at L, then back at Hoya, his confusion growing.
So that really was it. Feeldog had let it slip.
“But it’s true,” L said quietly, gazing at him.
He didn’t know what to say to that. He wanted to lie. It was tempting to deny it, to say, “No, it’s not true, how could you believe that?” and make an easy crack at Woohyun’s expense and brush it off. But Woohyun and Sunggyu and Dongwoo still knew the truth. Maybe Sungjong knew. And for little things, for stupid things, lying to some members and not others didn’t matter, wouldn’t bother him. But for something so big, with the truth finally so present, something in him faltered when he thought of lying so brazenly to the members.
He could have lied to them, easily, for their own good. But this lie would be for his good, not theirs; it would be to salvage his own pride. And that wasn’t a good enough excuse.
He glanced over. Sungjong was slowly tidying up; Sunggyu was gazing away, looking bored. Dongwoo was watching him steadily, ready to back him up no matter which answer he gave. Still seated with him and L and Sungyeol, Woohyun was looking down, toying with an empty cup.
For a moment, he let himself look at the way Woohyun’s thick, glossy bangs fell forward. They looked so soft, slanting over one eye, that he wished that he could touch them. He wanted to run his hands through Woohyun’s hair more and more with each year, each month, each instant they were together, but that was another of those million libidinous, romantic impulses he ruthlessly ignored every hour of the day.
Coolly meeting L’s eyes, he licked his lips and shrugged. “Yeah.”
L nodded. His mouth smiling but his eyes worried, he glanced at Woohyun.
“What?” Sungyeol demanded. “Yes? What? What, you want him? You want Woohyun? How? Since all the way back then? Are you in love with him?”
Tossing his hair out of his eyes, Woohyun raised his head. “Let’s not talk about it,” he said, getting up. “Maknae, how slow are you? How long does it take to clean up some cups and plates?”
“I’ll help,” Dongwoo said, stooping to pick up a couple of bowls.
“You… You…” Sungyeol was staring, stammering, and ignoring L’s attempts to get him to shut up. “Are you in love with him?”
“We’re members, aren’t we?” Sunggyu asked. “Aren’t you in love with him? Aren’t you in love with L?” He stood over Sungyeol, his voice insistent. “Aren’t you in love with me? Ya!” He kicked Sungyeol’s shin. “Don’t you love me?”
“No!” Sungyeol dodged another kick. “Yes! I mean yes! Yes, I do! But that’s not what I meant.”
“I love all of you,” L said.
“I only love some of you,” Sungjong said, and left for the kitchen.
There had been so many ways for Hoya to respond. It was easy, wasn’t it? It played over and over again in his mind.
“Are you in love with him?” “What? No!”
“Are you in love with him?” “No, it’s not like that.”
“Are you in love with him?” “Don’t be weird. I like him, I want him, but it’s not love.”
He could only think of one reason Hoya had remained so silent, so still.
But it didn’t make any sense. Hoya wasn’t - - Hoya didn’t - - it wasn’t like that, it wasn’t. Yeah, Hoya wanted him. He’d expected it to fade away, to die down, but it never had. It was still there, glittering in Hoya’s gaze, in Hoya’s appreciative smiles, in the way Hoya faded back and watched him sometimes when it seemed like no one else would notice.
Okay, so Hoya wanted him. But Hoya wanted the other members, too. Hoya had sex with half of the members and made out with the other half. It wasn’t any different with him, except that he was the one Hoya couldn’t have.
It wasn’t something they talked about. They treated each other the same way they treated any of the other members. They even had skinship and flirted in front of the cameras, in front of the fans, like they would with the others.
It wasn’t one-sided. He wanted Hoya, too. One of his favorite masturbatory fantasies was to select which member he’d break his celibacy for, which one he’d be overcome by lust for and finally tumble into bed with. He’d been masturbating over Hoya that way for a long time. Sometimes he fantasized that he and Hoya were practicing together, going over choreography, and Hoya’s hands slid over his body, positioning him, nudging his knee into place, stroking his thighs, and then Hoya was kneeling in front of him, hands on his cock, freeing his hard-on from his clothes. Sometimes he fantasized that they were at a photo shoot, running late, changing hurriedly, and he and Hoya shared a tiny closet of a dressing room, and they were half-naked, bumping into each other, and he reached for something behind Hoya, and their bodies met, and their eyes met, and Hoya was already hard for him, and then they were making out, fucking, trying to be quiet, muffling their cries against each other’s skin.
He had a dozen more, but his favorite, the one which he only delved into as a special treat, when he had time to indulge and work himself into it and get off at least twice, was the fantasy where he and Hoya were seated in a corner of the practice room, alone, and Hoya kissed him. It wasn’t like it had been that first time, years ago; it wasn’t awkward or embarrassing at all. It was just hot, and perfect, and as his back hit the wall and their lips met he opened for Hoya’s tongue, his hand sliding down Hoya’s hard, muscular back and drawing Hoya’s body closer, Hoya’s hand already slipping in between his thighs. “I know you need it,” Hoya would whisper, and his aching body would agree. The sex in his fantasy differed depending on his mood - - their actions and positions varied depending on his desires - - but that part was always the same. Hoya’s voice, confident and soft: “I know you need it.” Because he did, he did, he needed it badly, and he’d seen it, in Hoya’s gaze, time and time again over the years: “I know you need it, and I have it for you.” His body knew, down to the marrow, that everything he’d been denying it - - sexual intimacy, erotic pleasures, anything he could get from a man - - he’d find in Hoya. Without a word, Hoya had been promising him that for years.
Hoya wanted him, he wanted Hoya. If that was the situation, then they were equal. He and Sunggyu wanted each other, and they weren’t having sex with each other, either, so what was the problem?
But if Hoya… If more than sexual interest was involved… If there was…
He made himself think it, made himself face it. Love. Love. If Hoya loved him. That was different. He couldn’t treat it so lightly. He never would have. The part of him that wasn’t adamantly denying it and shocked into disbelief was horrified that he could have neglected and abused Hoya’s heart like this.
But it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. Wouldn’t he have noticed if Hoya suddenly fell in love with him?
Maybe it had been gradual, creeping in over time, too subtle to be discerned.
Or maybe it had been there all along, from the very start, true love since that first confession. And he’d been mistaken in interpreting it as lust all along.
He was in the bathroom that night, brushing his teeth, when Sungyeol walked in and leaned against the wall and asked, “Isn’t it weird?”
He was pretty pissed off at Sungyeol, still, so he barely spared a glance before spitting into the sink. “What?”
“That he’s in love with you. I know we all love each other, or whatever.” Sungyeol squirmed slightly, embarrassed. “But it’s different. Isn’t it awkward?”
“No one’s in love with you, so don’t worry about it.” He bared his teeth in the mirror, making sure nothing weird was left behind. As Sungyeol suddenly straightened, he wiped a smear of toothpaste from his lip with his thumb, then glanced around to see what had scared Sungyeol.
Hoya stood in the doorway, watching him with the kind of intensity that always sent sexual energy humming through his body. Carefully looking away, he licked his lips and tried not to think about Hoya bending him over the sink.
“You can’t seriously be turned on by his teeth,” Sungyeol said. “That’s just perverted. If anything, his canines make him look like a bulldog.”
“I’m sorry that Woohyun’s mouth is sexier than yours,” Hoya said. “That must be very painful for you. It’s a good thing that you never sing or rap, so no one has to look at your mouth. Maybe they won’t notice how lacking it is.”
“Ya!” Sungyeol stepped forward. “You-”
“Is it weird for me to like Woohyun’s mouth?” Hoya asked. “But it’s okay when fans think your moles are cute?”
“They’re beauty marks!”
“Kids, everybody, out,” Sunggyu said, pushing Hoya aside and dragging Sungyeol out of the room. “My bathroom.” Shoving Woohyun out, he closed the door.
“I have to pee!” Sungyeol protested, hugging the doorframe. “Ah! Hyung!”
Ignoring that, Woohyun watched Hoya walk away. Obeying sexual impulse he knew he should ignore, he followed.
In the bedroom, Hoya stretched out on the bottom bunk before he realized Woohyun was there. Tucking his arm behind his head, he asked, “What?”
Already in motion, Woohyun was crawling into the bunk. Hoya’s eyes widened in surprise, and he became self-conscious, experiencing a moment of doubt - - had this been a mistake? Hoya’s hand was on his side, sliding down to his hip, balling in the hem of his shirt, urging him closer, but Hoya’s gaze searched his face, asking, questioning: was he ready, did he really want this? He didn’t know, he didn’t have answers to those questions. He wanted Hoya to look at him like before, not with queries but with knowledge, with surety, with confidence and sexual intention, so he licked his lips, pouting a little, brushing his fingers high against Hoya’s inner thigh.
Immediately, Hoya’s gaze darkened with lust. “Yeah,” Hoya said. “Okay.” And then Hoya’s mouth was on his.
Oh, damn. It had been so long since he’d kissed another man, at first he had the confused thought: Shit, has kissing changed this much since then? And then he realized that kissing hadn’t changed, his partners had. The last time he’d been with another guy, they’d both been fumbling teenagers. Hoya was an adult, an experienced adult, and oh, god, it showed. Moaning, Woohyun felt like an amateur floundering in the deep end of the pool, and after a moment’s greedy response, he gave in and accepted submission, letting Hoya show him the way.
While the rhythm of Hoya’s kiss and the stroking of Hoya’s tongue left him panting like an overexcited virgin, the muscular maturity of Hoya’s body enthralled his hands. Pushing up Hoya’s shirt, he rubbed his palm over Hoya’s abs, Hoya’s ribcage, amazed by the potent eroticism of Hoya’s body, its masculinity, how fit and toned it was, how paradoxically soft Hoya’s skin was. Hoya’s thigh was nudging up between his legs, and he ground against it, against the bulging hardness of Hoya’s arousal, his hips working in hungry echo of the pace of Hoya’s kiss. When Hoya’s teeth grazed his lower lip, the word, “Fuck,” shuddered out of him. He didn’t know what he meant by it, didn’t know what sort of request it was, didn’t know if he intended to say, “Fuck me,” or, “Let me fuck you,” but it didn’t matter. Hoya knew what his body needed; Hoya would make sure that he got it.
The way Hoya’s hands were stroking his body made him feel like powerful waves of need and pleasure were rolling through him. The confident way Hoya’s hand rubbed his back, dipped beneath his waistband, and squeezed his ass turned him on; the provocative way Hoya’s fingertips slipped around the most sensitive skin behind his ear, stroked his nape, and teased up his shirt had him moaning, wanting more, eager to expose more of himself to Hoya’s touch.
“Ah, your mouth,” Hoya breathed, sucking at his lower lip again.
His mouth, yes, his mouth. He remembered with great clarity and greater craving what he’d used to do with his mouth, the places he’d used to apply it, the way his friends had liked it. Jerking Hoya’s shirt up, he raised his head from Hoya’s kiss with a ragged gasp and spent a moment simply staring in appreciative fascination. Damn. He’d never been to such a gorgeous playground in his life.
Ducking his head, he started from the top of Hoya’s chest and worked his way down. Kissing a line between Hoya’s pecs, enjoying the tautness of muscle, the smoothness of skin, he detoured to a tiny, pink nipple, licking the hard little nub of it, sucking until he heard Hoya moan. It had been so long since he’d been able to enjoy himself like this, been able to explore another man’s body like this, that he didn’t know how he’d ever get enough. So handsome, so strong, Hoya’s physique appealed to him aesthetically, sexually, even on a primal level. Kissing, sucking here, licking there, he made his way south, his hands skipping ahead to stroke Hoya’s thighs, muscles flexing against his palm.
“Ahh, hhunhhh, yes…” The way Hoya’s body was moving, rippling and undulating, was sexually captivating, and the way Hoya was moaning was turning him on. “Unnh, oh oh, ooo-uh…” He was pretty sure that some of it was supposed to be his name, but it was all throaty vowels and breath.
When his tongue found the line of coarse, black hairs leading down from Hoya’s navel, he couldn’t tell which one of them groaned more loudly. Sucking at Hoya’s skin, he licked downward, sexual excitement pumping through him, heat thick in his blood. His hand stole over Hoya’s thigh, fingers crawling up to hook in Hoya’s waistband.
And then Hoya was brushing his hand aside, knee nudging him up slightly. Hoya slid down the bed, simultaneously tugging him upward, kissing him, smoothly diverting him from his goal and distracting him with slick, deep kisses. Too horny to think straight, he moaned and kissed back, burying his hand in Hoya’s hair. As their bodies ground together, Hoya rolled forward. The bunk was crowded, and his back hit the wall, and then he felt Hoya’s hand on his fly. Moaning in gratitude, in encouragement, he cupped Hoya’s face with both hands, fingers stroking along the strong line of Hoya’s jaw.
“Hold on,” Hoya whispered, and then his erection was in Hoya’s hand, the smooth skin of Hoya’s palm sliding perfectly along the shaft. The thrill that shot through him ended in an urgent, wailing moan, and his hips bucked, eagerly fucking Hoya’s fist. “Yeah, unh, mmm,” Hoya moaned, giving him a long, slow pull that sent sparks crackling joyously through his body. “Show off that cock.” Groaning, pumping erratically against Hoya’s hand, he bit at Hoya’s jaw, panting against Hoya’s neck. He licked at Hoya’s skin again, hungry for the taste, inhaling that intoxicating blend of cologne and musk, rubbing his nose against Hoya’s neck, nuzzling his face against Hoya’s shoulder, craving more sexual intimacy even now.
The stroke of Hoya’s hand on his cock was deft and sure, bringing him right to the edge with shocking, rewarding swiftness. Mouthing Hoya’s shoulder, he grunted helplessly, trying to bear it. But in that dark corner under the upper bunk, pressed between Hoya’s strong, agile body and the wall, if anyone was in charge of his body’s sexual responses, it wasn’t Woohyun. Thrilling to every subtle shift of Hoya’s fingers, his erection throbbed, and when he felt Hoya’s tongue at his ear, he couldn’t withstand the pleasure any longer. In a fierce torrent of ecstasy, he came, making pained, animal noises against Hoya’s neck as his hips jerked with crude aggression. Gasping, he tightened his embrace, and Hoya’s touch lightened, stroking him through it, milking him dry. Moaning, “I came, I came,” he held on until the storm passed and Hoya’s damp hand settled on his hip.
For a long moment, his mind was quiet, and he knew only sensation: satisfaction, relaxation, pleasure. The hardness of Hoya’s body, the more specific stiffness of Hoya’s erection prodding his stomach, the warmth of Hoya’s skin.
He began to feel anticipation and sexual hunger all over again. Licking his lips, he shifted, nudging against Hoya’s hard-on, skimming his hand down Hoya’s back. They’d barely begun; there was still so much more to do, so much more pleasure to share between them.
Then came the moment of cold shock. What was he doing? What had he done?! All of these years, years, of celibacy, of holding back, of denying himself, of denying others. He’d given up, thrown it away, rendered it worthless. And for what? Because Hoya had looked at him in the bathroom? His career was the most important thing in the world to him, what he sacrificed everything for, what he poured every last bit of himself into. He’d arranged his life this way for a reason, he’d set up his own rules-
Hoya coughed and started to move away, extricating himself. With a wince and an embarrassed smile, he slid aside.
If Woohyun was confused about his own actions and intentions, he was even more confused by Hoya’s. “What?”
“Go,” Hoya said. “You can go.” When Woohyun didn’t move, he raised his eyebrows, gesturing toward the door. “Go.”
“You’re kicking me out?” What was going on here? Hoya was hard, very obviously hard, the swelling of his cock so prominent that Woohyun was having trouble not reaching for it, putting a hand on it, stroking it. He’d been about to put his hand on it - - mouth on it - - earlier, before Hoya had interrupted him to jack him off, and despite his emotional conflict, he was still very eager to get back to it.
“You want to stay and play cards?” Hoya asked. “You wanted to get off, I got you off. You didn’t even get your hands dirty.”
Hands dirty. Hoya was right; he’d barely done anything. Really, he’d kissed Hoya, then sat back while Hoya did all of the work. They hadn’t even taken any of their clothes off. All he had to do was pull his shirt back down and walk out like nothing had happened. He could go neatly back to celibacy like none of this had ever occurred.
Hoya was acting like he’d planned this. He hadn’t, not at all. He’d been running solely on hormones and sexual frustration. But if he had planned it, a way to satisfy his urges with the minimum of fuss, was this what he would have come up with?
“We’re just…finished?” he asked. He didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. Part of him was already guiltily tucking this moment away, preparing to sweep it aside, planning to go back to celibacy, to fantasy and masturbation, leaving this moment as a lone aberration. Part of him couldn’t believe how intensely gratifying this had been and wanted more, wanted the rest of what Hoya had to give him, wanted to strip down and indulge, wanted to make up for lost time.
“Finished,” Hoya said, getting up, tugging his shirt down.
That was that, then. Woohyun sat up, preparing to stand. And then his thoughts hit upon a snag.
If this was just sex, then he could brush it aside. If Hoya’s interest in him had only been sexual curiosity, none of this really mattered. If this brief handjob had been a favor for a friend, he could forget it.
But if it had been more than that, if Hoya was in love with him, wouldn’t it be too cruel to scratch his itch and walk away? Didn’t he owe Hoya more? Shouldn’t they talk about it, work something out?
He hated, in so many ways, to ask, but he had to know. Looking up, he met Hoya’s eyes. “Are you in love with me?”
Hoya gazed down at him.
No. Hoya had to say no. Love was too big, too much. It didn’t seem possible that something so significant, so important, could exist inside their friendship. It couldn’t be real. He wouldn’t have overlooked it all of this time.
Hoya licked his lips.
Dark and guilty thoughts wormed through his mind. If Hoya said yes, that would give him an excuse. He could toss aside his celibacy without looking back, and it wouldn’t be his fault. He could have sex with Hoya, he could justify it. The very idea of it made him ashamed of himself - - how could he hope for something like that, for such a selfish reason? - - but his baser instincts salivated.
Hoya’s hand lifted, and Hoya’s fingers combed through his hair. It was a slow caress, and it felt like a confession. Felt like romance and seduction and devotion. But then Hoya’s hand dropped. “No.” Hoya’s lips quirked in a half-smile. “I like you, but I’m not in love with you.”
He scrutinized Hoya’s face for a moment, but there was no denying the steadiness of Hoya’s gaze. Embarrassed, he stood. “Thanks. For the. Uh.”
“Yeah, let’s never talk about it again,” Hoya said.
“Okay.” Yeah. That would be best. Clearing his throat, Woohyun smoothed his shirt down, smoothed his hair, headed for the door. It seemed awkward to walk out like this, but anything else seemed awkward, too.
At the door, he turned.
Hoya flashed him a painfully patient smile. “Still here?”
With a swift step, he closed the distance between them and pressed a kiss to Hoya’s cheek. “Thank you.” He was grateful. For how well Hoya had taken care of him, for how incredible it had been, for how Hoya had given him the pleasure he’d craved while protecting him from crossing as many boundaries as possible. He hadn’t given a thought to it, but Hoya had. And he’d come so much more urgently, more explosively, than he’d ever come in his own hand.
Turning, he left, stepping into the front room.
From the floor, Sungyeol and Sungjong looked up at him. “Finished already?” Sungyeol asked. “You must not be very good.”
“How was it?” Sungjong asked.
He kicked Sungyeol, lightly, then asked, “How was what?”
“Sex,” Sungyeol said. “The sex, Nam, how was the sex?” He gave Sungjong a dramatically incredulous look, as if worried about Woohyun’s mental health.
“What sex?” Woohyun asked. “We just talked. You know I don’t do that.” Without looking back, he went into his room and closed the door.
With the click of the door, he closed his eyes, sinking back against the door with a smile. Mmm. Licking his lips, he let sexual satiation hum through him. He could swear that he could still feel Hoya’s hand sliding between his thighs, could still smell Hoya’s scent rising up from his skin, could still hear Hoya’s voice.
“Had fun?” Sunggyu asked.
Opening his eyes, he exhaled, still smiling. “Nope. Nothing
happened. Nothing at all.” Feeling pleasure whisper through him, he dragged
his fingernails across his abs, wanting to touch Hoya again. “But if anything
had happened, it would have been incredible.”
Copyright September 5, 2013
Sequel: "Crossed Signals"
by Matthew Haldeman-Time
Copyright September 5, 2013