Travel Hazard

K-pop info and glossary
Super Junior
Debut: 2005, SM Entertainment
Fan club: Elf
Name Real name Birth date Role
Leeteuk Park Jungsu July 1, 1983 leader
Heechul Kim Heechul July 10, 1983 variety idol
Yesung Kim Jongwoon August 24, 1984 main vocal
Kangin Kim Youngwoon January 17, 1985 variety idol
Shindong Shin Donghee September 28, 1985 main rapper
Sungmin Lee Sungmin January 1, 1986 vocal
Eunhyuk Lee Hyukjae April 4, 1986 main dancer
Zhoumi Zhou Mi April 19, 1986 Super Junior M
Donghae Lee Donghae October 15, 1986 vocal, dancer
Siwon Choi Siwon February 10, 1987 visual, actor
Ryeowook Kim Ryeowook June 21, 1987 main vocal
Kyuhyun Jo Kyuhyun February 3, 1988 main vocal
Henry Henry Lau October 11, 1989 Super Junior M
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.

            A touch.

            Something brushed his lips.


            What was…?  Cracking one eye open, Kangin checked to see who, or what, was in bed with him.


            Of course.

            “Nnn, hyung,” he muttered, pushing Yesung’s hand away.  “Go back to bed.”  Rolling over, he closed his eyes, dragging the covers up over his head.

            It was a hazard of traveling to another country.

            The next night, when it happened again, when he wakened in the middle of the night to find Yesung caressing his lips, he did the same thing he’d done the night before: told Yesung to stop, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

            Only it happened again.  What felt like only a moment later, he felt another touch, a gentle stroking at his bottom lip.  Growling, he opened his eyes and pushed Yesung back.

            With a wide-eyed affronted look, Yesung shoved him back.  Or tried to, anyway.

            “Aish, hyung,” he said.  “Go back to bed.  Sleep here, I don’t care, just let me sleep.”

            “I can’t sleep,” Yesung said, sitting up, running his fingers through his hair.  “I don’t want to sleep.”

            Sighing, Kangin sat up, switching on the lamp by the bed.  He was tempted to tell Yesung to go bother Ryeowook, then, and let him handle it.  What was he supposed to do about it, anyway?  He couldn’t cook for Yesung; they were in a hotel.

            Eh, maybe he could just get Yesung to feel tired.  Pulling his own shirt off over his head, he reached for Yesung’s.

            “Wh-, oh, now?” Yesung asked, shaking his head to get his hair back in place.

            “Sure,” Kangin said, undoing Yesung’s fly and tugging Yesung’s jeans and underpants down.  While Yesung squirmed and kicked his feet to get his clothes the rest of the way off, Kangin got up, crossing the room to dig through his suitcase.  Finding the lube, he took off his own clothes, scattering them across the floor before returning to the bed.

            Climbing on top of Yesung, Kangin lowered his body against Yesung’s warmth.  Soft, smooth skin.  They ground against each other for a minute, fondling themselves, fondling each other, and Kangin’s dick stiffened until he felt that urging, aching need to fuck.

            Yesung shifted when he moved, raising a knee.  While he pushed a finger in, then another, stretching, Yesung stared at him, masturbating, breathing kind of hard.  It was creepy, how intently Yesung stared, looking without blinking.  What was there to watch?  There was nothing interesting happening on his face.  The interesting part was down farther, where Yesung’s ass was tight and slick and hot around his fingers, muscles twitching and contracting.  Kangin felt tense and too warm, heat rushing through him, the swollen hardness of his dick making him want to rock and push and fuck.

            When he popped his fingers out, Yesung winced and said, “Oh,” but he always did that whenever Kangin did that, so he didn’t bother to respond.  Pushing Yesung’s firm, smooth thigh out of his way, he lined himself up, pressing the head of his dick right against Yesung’s shiny-slick asshole.  Yesung made quiet, short noises, breathy, groaning, and Kangin nudged his hips forward, pushing until the head of his dick was inside.

            Shit, that felt good.  Grunting as pleasure shivered through him, Kangin thrust in again, and Yesung’s clenching heat felt so incredible he thrust in again, hard, suddenly needing it.  Yesung made an, “Oh, uh,” sound, like figuring something out, and Kangin was grunting, thrusting, rocking his hips and fucking, pounding, over and over again because it felt better and better and he could feel it building and building.  Yesung was moaning and whimpering in his ear, Yesung’s hands slipping in the sweat on his back.  It was fast and it was hard and he didn’t want it to stop, he just wanted to keep going, but he was so close, it was so close, he could feel it, the pleasure, the white-and-gold ecstasy right there, just beyond his, just beyond his, ah!  “Oh!  Oh, ah!”  Tensing, squeezing up, he came, gasping through it, shocked stupid by the pleasure.

            “Oh,” Yesung said, like he hadn’t expected that.

            Kangin could’ve rolled over and passed out and slept until noon, but Yesung hadn’t come yet.  Pushing himself up, he pulled out and reached for the lube again.

            “You fuck so much harder than everybody else.” Yesung said.

            He knew.  They’d mentioned it.  Yesung had mentioned it.  But when it felt good like that, he just had to keep going.  “Sorry,” he said, wrapping his hand around Yesung’s dick.

            It was hard, and Yesung jerked a little, wincing and digging his nails into Kangin’s upper arm.  “No,” he said, arching his back, “it feels good.”

            Kangin grinned, slowing his hand, relaxing his grip slightly, taking it easy.  “You like the way I fuck you, hyung?”

            Inhaling deeply, Yesung closed his eyes, dragging his nails down Kangin’s arm.  “Nnn, ah, yes.”

            Stroking gently, teasing the head, Kangin couldn’t stop grinning.  “Say it, hyung.  ‘I like the way you fuck me, Kangin-ah.’”

            “I like the way you fuck me,” Yesung murmured, starting to move, getting restless, his hips pushing up towards Kangin’s hand.  His hands were on Kangin’s forearms now, holding on a little too hard.  Scowling, he opened his eyes.  “Make me come.  You’re flirting with my dick.”

            Tightening his grip, Kangin jacked a little faster, pulling, squeezing.  Looking down, he watched his hand on Yesung’s erection, the desperate dark red of it, how smooth and shiny it was, the blunt roundness of the head.  He liked the way it looked in his hand, liked being able to move his thumb like this and hear Yesung moan, liked being able to twist his wrist like this and feel Yesung shake.  And then he did them both together and Yesung jerked, hips popping upward, and Yesung came, groaning and making a long, vibrating sound that started off low and wandered higher until it ended in a wail.  Wet, sticky cum splattered over Kangin’s fingers, arcing onto Yesung’s stomach, dotting his skin.

            Breathing hard, Yesung stared up at the ceiling.  He’d been gripping Kangin’s forearms harder and harder as he’d gotten closer and closer to coming, and he was still holding on, keeping Kangin right there crouched over him.  Waiting, Kangin watched him blink a few times.  Slowly losing his stunned look, Yesung gradually let go, and Kangin sat back, reaching for a corner of the sheet.

            Wiping his hand clean, he noticed Yesung staring at his movements.  “What?”

            Yesung shook his head, looking away.  “Nothing.”  Wincing, he sat up, shifting over on the bed and settling down again.

            Stretching out beside him, Kangin turned off the light.

            The very next night:

            “Hyung!” Kangin exclaimed, sitting up and shoving Yesung back.  “Go to sleep!”

            “I think your lips are chapped,” Yesung said, and touched his mouth again.

            Growling, Kangin pushed Yesung over, rolling on top of him and glaring down at him.  “Stop waking me up!  Get out of my room!  Leave my-”

            Yesung kissed him.

            “-mouth alone!”

            Yesung kissed him again, harder this time, licking at Kangin’s lower lip, cupping his face in both hands.

            It was a good kiss, distracting him from his thoughts and getting his body’s attention.  Kissing Yesung back, he nipped at Yesung’s lips, nibbling, lifting Yesung’s leg around his waist as he lowered his body.  Pulling at the front of his shirt, angling for a deeper kiss, Yesung licked into his mouth, and he licked back, tongues stroking as their bodies started to rock together.

            Grinding against Yesung’s thigh, Kangin reached between their bodies, working open Yesung’s fly.  “You like the way I fuck you, hyung?” he asked, shoving down Yesung’s underwear.  “You’re already back for more?”

            Yesung grunted, kissing him harder, still cupping his face, thumbs stroking out over his cheeks.

            His body eagerly remembered how good it had felt last night, and he got hard fast.  Yesung held onto him, tight, and moaned a lot, whimpering in his ear, trembling against him at the end.  He came hard, so hard he yelled right into Yesung’s ear, and then he felt too good to move, too drained, kind of high, kind of exhausted.

            “Nnn.”  Yesung moaned, probably squashed beneath him, erection jutting against Kangin’s stomach.  “Come on, touch me, touch me.”

            He would’ve told Yesung to get himself off, but he couldn’t say that to a hyung.  He tried to get up, but Yesung was holding on too tightly and wouldn’t let go, so he couldn’t get very far.  Tucking a hand between their bodies, he found Yesung’s dick, running his fingers over the head.

            “Nnnnn!”  Shuddering, Yesung dug his fingers into Kangin’s back.  They were cheek-to-cheek, Yesung breathing hard against Kangin’s neck, and he made a tense, hurt sound when Kangin gave him a little squeeze.

            “You like that, hyung?” Kangin asked, grinning at the way Yesung moaned and shook.  “Does that make you feel good?”

            “Ah, ah, yes,” Yesung moaned.  He was trying to move, twitching and wriggling, gasping in Kangin’s ear.  “Get me off, get me off, I’m so close, ah!”

            Kangin didn’t really want to rush it.  On the one hand, if he got Yesung off, he could get back to sleep, and it was already way too close to morning.  On the other hand, well, Yesung’s dick was in his other hand, and he liked how warm and wriggling and eager Yesung was, he liked how their bodies were grinding and rubbing, he liked the way Yesung was moaning and panting all up against his neck, he liked how good it had felt to thrust into Yesung’s tight, slick ass.  None of the other hyungs held onto him this tightly, like they needed it this badly, and he liked it.  In fact, he was kind of getting turned on again.  “Hyung,” he murmured, rubbing his hand over Yesung’s dick, over Yesung’s stomach, kissing Yesung’s neck and tasting sweat, “can I fuck you again?”

            “I want to come in your mouth,” Yesung panted, fingers rubbing across his scalp and threading through his hair.  “You can fuck me again if you go down on me when you’re finished.”

            Yes.  Now that he had permission, Kangin was eager to get back inside, eager to push in and feel Yesung’s body tightening up around him, eager to thrust and fuck.  Hot, aching, thrusting inside and moaning in gratitude, he shuddered at the intensity of the burning pleasure and fucked Yesung hard.  It felt so good he got lost, groaning, rocking, pounding in hard, grunting and shouting.  Sex and ecstasy and fire overwhelmed his body and he just rutted, chasing pleasure, hungry for more.

            Beneath him, around him, against him, Yesung was panting, wailing, clawing across his back, bruising his shoulders, gripping his ass.  The sound of Yesung whimpering in his ear got tangled up in his pleasure and he started to associate the sound of Yesung’s voice with his own need, started to associate the louder Yesung got with the better he felt, started to try to make Yesung get louder, felt like when Yesung finally sounded ecstatic enough, he might come.  So he drove harder, slamming in, stroking Yesung’s body, thumbing Yesung’s nipples, and Yesung whimpered, shuddering against him, biting his neck.

            Just as he felt teeth in his neck, he felt Yesung’s nails scrape across his back, and then he thrust in deep, hard and deep, and Yesung cried out, and ecstasy ripped along Kangin’s spine, making him shake, making him yell, making him come.  Exploding with light, he groaned, feeling tense, feeling weak, thrusting again, again, coming, moaning, stunned.

            He felt so good he couldn’t breathe.  He was weak, numb, tingling.  Cursing softly, he buried his face against Yesung’s neck, closing his eyes.  It might take days to recover.

            Fingers drumming across the back of his neck.  Yesung made a tense, aching sound.  “Are you going to suck my dick or not?”  A sharp tug at his hair.  “I want to come.  Kangin-ah.  I want to come.”

            Groaning, Kangin forced himself up.  “Yes, hyung.”  Sitting up, he stretched, shaking his head to wake up, and then he settled down between Yesung’s eagerly raised knees.  Sucking two fingers into his mouth, he wet them and eased them into Yesung’s ass, nudging Yesung’s prostate.

            “Oh!”  It was a sharp, startled sound.  “Oh, oh.”  He sounded surprised, like he was figuring something out.  “Oh, oh.”  And then he moaned, running his fingers through Kangin’s hair and tugging, guiding Kangin’s head down.  “Suck me, suck me.  I want to come in your mouth.”

            Licking his lips, Kangin went where Yesung wanted him.  Over the next few minutes, he enjoyed himself.  He liked the way Yesung wanted it, the way Yesung moaned and shook and asked for more.  He liked to have that effect, liked to have that kind of power and control.

            Pulling his hair, Yesung rocked and twisted against him, feet on his shoulders and his back, muscles contracting in hungry spasms around his fingers.  He liked the way Yesung kept gasping and wailing, so he kept toying with Yesung’s dick, teasing it, kissing the shaft, licking lightly at the head.  He kept ducking down to suck on Yesung’s balls, and Yesung kept moaning and twitching and calling his name.

            It was fun, like a game, to see how long he could make it last.  He ignored Yesung’s commands to “make me come, I’m so hard, I’m so close, make me come,” because he was enjoying the game.  A tiny part of him felt bad about keeping Yesung on edge this long, and he tenderly kissed Yesung’s red, angry dick, licking around the base, feeling how hard it was, how it throbbed against his tongue.

            And then Yesung moaned like he was sobbing.  “Please, Kangin, please, get me off.”

            Kangin liked being begged.  He lifted his head, interested.  He wanted to hear it again.  “Ask me some more.”

            With a sound of pure frustration, Yesung rose up, kicking him.  In seconds, they were wrestling, Yesung trying to get on top, trying to climb onto his face and take him by force.  Laughing, Kangin fended him off, aroused by the struggle, by the feel of Yesung’s hard, slick erection continually rubbing against his naked body.

            Once he’d made it clear that he’d win any physical contest between them, Kangin relented, letting Yesung win, letting Yesung push him down and kneel astride his shoulders.  Red-faced, sweating, glaring at him with bright, intense eyes, Yesung lightly slapped his face.

            Still laughing, Kangin opened his mouth wider.  “I’m sorry, hyung,” he lied, obediently awaiting Yesung’s dick.

            One hand warmly cupping the back of Kangin’s neck, Yesung shifted forward, his other hand aiming his erection.  It was swollen, long and thick and red, the head of it smeared with pre-cum.  Deliberately provocative, Kangin licked out towards it, and Yesung groaned, lowering into his mouth.

            Cooperating now, Kangin closed his mouth around it, letting it in, sucking.  Yesung groaned, pushing deeper, one hand still on the back of his neck, leaning forward to brace himself with one hand on the bed.  Sucking lightly, Kangin raised his own hands to Yesung’s hips, adjusting the angle, cupping Yesung’s balls.

            They were there like that for only a few minutes, Kangin sucking harder, Yesung slowly thrusting, Yesung’s moans soft and heartfelt.  He sounded so urgently turned on, so ready to come, that Kangin glanced up his body, checking on him.  But their eyes met.  Yesung was staring at him, watching him.  It was a little awkward, a little embarrassing - - only Yesung would stare at him like that - - but before Kangin could look away, Yesung moaned, and rocked in again, and came, groaning, whimpering, spurting cum all over the back of Kangin’s throat.

            Coughing slightly, Kangin pushed Yesung’s hips up, until Yesung’s dick left his mouth.  He licked his lips - - and then Yesung was kissing him, cupping his face in one hand, stretching out over him, moaning.

            Yesung’s tongue was so busy in his mouth, Kangin easily got the upper hand, rolling them both over, now on top.  He kissed Yesung back for a while, because it felt good, because his body liked where it was and didn’t want to move, because Yesung kept whimpering and clutching at him.  But eventually he remembered that he needed to get some sleep, and that morning was on its way.

            “Hyung,” he murmured, nipping at Yesung’s lower lip, then sucking it.  “You have to let me sleep.”

            With a soft grunt, Yesung broke their kiss, kissed his nose, his cheek.  “Go to sleep.”

            Yesung didn’t let go immediately, but when Kangin tried to get free, Yesung didn’t hold him back.  Settling under the covers, Kangin wondered if Yesung would just leave.

            Yesung tucked in beside him, skin warm and smooth against him.

            Seconds after he closed his eyes, Kangin was asleep.

            The scratches on his back weren’t even visible by morning, but Yesung’s teeth had left a faint mark on his shoulder.  His shirt covered it easily, but Teukie noticed it anyway, and laughed.  Kangin tried to shush Teukie, but when everyone looked at Yesung, Yesung just looked back like he didn’t know what they were laughing at, and shrugged.

            That night, when Kangin felt a soft, curious touch at his lips, he growled without even bothering to open his eyes.  “Not again, hyung.  You have to let me sleep.”  But his body had been waiting for it, and his dick was already perking up.

            They weren’t even going to talk about it; Yesung was already kissing him, pulling up his shirt.  The feel of Yesung’s body against his, of Yesung’s hands touching him, the sound of Yesung’s moans, all turned him on, and he got hard so fast he felt dizzy, groaning and gripping Yesung’s hips, dragging Yesung against where he ached the most.

            Moaning, Yesung ground against him, gasping into their kiss.  “So hard,” Yesung moaned, “so big, I like it, I like it.”  Sex and flattery were two of Kangin’s favorite things, and he undressed Yesung fast, reaching for the lube he’d hidden under his pillow.

            Yesung was so turned on he chewed on Kangin’s lips and made hungry, incoherent sounds while Kangin slicked him up.  Then, keeping him on top, Kangin guided him into place, up and back.

            Making quiet, surprised sounds, Yesung cooperated, easing onto him, sinking down.  Groaning, Kangin pressed upward, lifting both their bodies, and Yesung hung on, adjusting, riding him.

            They fucked, and then they made out, and then they fucked again.  It happened every night, every single night, and Kangin didn’t even pretend anymore, didn’t even turn the lights off and close his eyes, just waited for it, sometimes getting naked first, sometimes masturbating, anticipating it.  And sometimes he got Yesung to beg him, and sometimes Yesung tried to stay in charge, but mostly they just fucked, hard, and came, harder, and barely got any sleep.

            Their last night in Thailand, they went out to a restaurant to celebrate.  Everyone had a great time, and their managers even ordered them steak, and everybody got a little drunk.

            When Kangin got up to go to the bathroom, he found Kyuhyun standing outside the doorway.  “Waiting for something?” Kangin asked, wondering what he was smiling about.

            “No,” Kyuhyun said.  “Go in.”

            Okay.  He went in.  Yesung was there, washing his hands.  Kangin took a piss, and washed his hands-

            -and then Yesung was on him, kissing him, pushing him back against the sink.  It was too fast and too hard and too much, but when Kangin tried to push him back, Yesung bit him and mounted him, arms around his neck, knees up around his waist, clinging to him.

            Quickly adjusting to support Yesung’s weight, Kangin leaned back against the sink, holding him.  “You,” he dodged a kiss, “we can’t,” he dodged another one, “stop!”

            “Kyuhyun’s guarding the door,” Yesung said, kissing him hungrily, fast and wet and messy.  “We can if we’re quick.”  Yesung panted against his jaw, fingers combing through his hair.  “I’ve been waiting all day for you to fuck me.”

            It was kind of rushed and kind of awkward, and they kept most of their clothes on so they got pretty sweaty, and he had to keep his hand over Yesung’s mouth so the whole restaurant wouldn’t hear.  The sight of Yesung bent over the sink in a public place, unashamedly baring his ass with Kyuhyun and everyone else on the other side of the door, the lube shining around his greedy little pink asshole under the bright bathroom lights, it made it real, it made this not just something that happened to occur once in a while, it made it something that they did.

            Kangin wanted him, wanted Yesung so much his gut burned, and his hands shook until he gripped Yesung’s hips.  He was in deep with the first thrust, and Yesung arched back against him, hands rubbing across the back of his neck, Yesung’s hips grinding against him and making him burn.

            In this light, he could see the sweat trickling down Yesung’s nape, and he licked it up.  As soon as he had his mouth on Yesung, he couldn’t stop, and then he was kissing, biting, grunting.  His hand quickly, firmly gripped Yesung’s erection, and he liked how hard it was, liked how it felt against his bare palm, liked how Yesung shook and whimpered at his touch.  While he fucked in deep, rough strokes, his hand used quick, tight strokes on Yesung’s dick, and Yesung moaned helplessly, pulling his hair, shaking with the impact of every thrust.

            They couldn’t risk staying too long, but Kangin was too turned on not to get what he needed, so he fucked Yesung deep, pumping his hips, gritting his teeth so he wouldn’t get too loud.  He’d never done anything like this, never taken a risk like this, never, but the pleasure was so intense it had him light-headed, the fire so hot he couldn’t breathe, the need so strong he just wanted to, just had to-

            Cursing, Kangin dragged Yesung away from the sink, pulling out.  Crouching with his back against the wall, he jerked Yesung down onto his lap, his fingers finding the hot, wet little hole, his dick filling it, the hot pleasure so intense he groaned.

            Panting, Yesung leaned into him, rocking, whimpering.  Pulling Yesung’s shirt up, Kangin kissed his chest, nibbled on his nipples, stroked his hot back.  Then they were moaning into each other’s mouths, kissing feverishly, rocking together, Yesung cupping the head of his leaking dick against his naked stomach so it wouldn’t smear against Kangin’s clothes.

            Kangin came first, groaning into Yesung’s neck, electrified by the pleasure of it, breathless.  He didn’t want it to be over, still felt tense and high and needy, still wanted more, and he nudged Yesung up.  As soon as Yesung’s smooth abdomen and firm thighs were within sight, as soon as Yesung’s hard, jutting erection was in his face, he opened his mouth, reaching out with both hands.

            This was good, this was familiar, this made him hot.  Yesung’s skin was taut but soft under his hands, Yesung petting his hair and whimpering his name, Yesung’s hips pumping shallowly.  It didn’t take long before Yesung was coming, salty cum flooding his mouth, hands tightening in his hair, hips pushing more aggressively towards him, a low cry in the air.

            They tried to cool and dry their faces, tried to fix their hair, tried to make it look like nothing had happened.  When they opened the bathroom door, Kyuhyun looked right at them and laughed.  Snatching him up in a headlock, Kangin dragged him back to the table, and as soon as they got back Yesung got in trouble by saying something to Heechul, and by the time that died down, no one remembered to ask where they’d been.

            As they left the restaurant, though, Heechul touched his arm and murmured, “Don’t do that in the bathroom.  Bathrooms are too dirty.  Just say you left something behind and go out to the van next time.”

            Sex was slow, that night.  Yesung went down on him over and over again, sometimes soft and slow, sometimes sucking so hard it took the breath from his lungs.  When they weren’t having sex, they were making out.  When they weren’t making out, they were talking.  About their trip, mostly, about the other members, about their schedule and what they wanted to do when they got back.  Yesung watched him so intently, it made him nervous, and when he finally told Yesung to stop it, Yesung said, “I like looking at you.”

            “Because I’m so handsome?” he asked, grinning.

            “Because I think I’m in love with you.”

            Only Yesung would say it like that, like it was nothing, without shame.  Kangin didn’t know what to say, what to do.  He scrubbed his hand through his hair, sitting up, giving Yesung room on the bed.

            Yesung just looked at him.  Then, “I know you aren’t in love with me.”

            Rubbing his hands over his thighs, Kangin felt really naked.  “You know I love you, hyung.”

            “You love me the way you love all of the members, because we’re Super Junior,” Yesung said.  “I love you the way I don’t love anybody else.  But that’s okay.  You don’t have to love me.  You can just keep fucking me.”  He looked concerned.  “You aren’t going to stop fucking me, are you?”

            “No.  We can still do this.  I like fucking you.”

            They did it again, but Kangin tried not to kiss him as much, and then it was time to get up and get ready for the airport.

            Their first night back in Seoul, the members were kind of scattered.  Everyone had people to visit and families to see.  Only half the group was in the dorms that night.  Kangin waited until the first person went to bed.  It turned out to be Donghae.  Kangin waited half an hour, and then followed him, slipping into his room and crawling into his bed.

            Donghae didn’t need it like Yesung did, and he didn’t kiss like Yesung did, but he liked sex, and he laughed when it felt good, and they did it twice.  Kangin slept there the rest of the night.

            Yesung didn’t say anything about it.  At least, not to Kangin.  Ryeowook looked disappointed in Kangin all day, but that could’ve been about anything.

            Over the next few days, Kangin slept with anyone he could find who wasn’t Yesung.  He tried to act normal the rest of the time, and they did their usual rounds of shows and performances, and he tried to ignore how intensely Yesung stared at him.  Yesung had said that he didn’t have to be in love back, so Yesung had to be okay with it.  It wasn’t a problem.  Everything was okay.

            By the end of two weeks, though, Ryeowook looked ready to slap him, Teukie kept sighing at him, and no one wanted him in bed anymore.  “Just go to your own room,” Sungmin insisted, shutting the door in his face.  “Sleep in your own bed.”

            The worst part was, he didn’t want to be in his own bed.  He wanted to be in Yesung’s bed.  After having sex with everyone else for two weeks, he missed the way Yesung kissed him.  He missed being wanted like that.  He missed the hot, burning need.  He missed all of those urgent, whimpering sounds and those tense, explosive wails.  He missed being watched and clung to and held so tightly, like he was the center of all of Yesung’s ecstasy.

            No one else wanted him like that.

            Yesung was kind of shameless and liked to say things for effect, so maybe he wasn’t really in love.  Maybe he hadn’t really meant it.  Kangin invited Ryeowook to dinner, because he knew that Ryeowook would insist on bringing Yesung.  What he hadn’t realized was that Ryeowook would “forget” to show up, and he ended up having dinner with Yesung alone.

            They talked about the shows they’d been on, and the shows they wanted to be on, and argued over which of them was a better host.  Kangin got hard on the way back to the apartment, and Yesung reached over in the dark and touched it, lightly palming it, and Kangin gritted his teeth and groaned, and Yesung leaned in way too close and whispered, “Tell me you want me more than anyone else in the world.”

            He couldn’t say it.  It was true, but he couldn’t admit it.  He didn’t want it to be true.  He didn’t want to mean it.  He pushed Yesung’s hand away.

            Yesung stared at him.

            Kangin clenched his jaw and looked away like nothing was happening.

            Yesung slapped him across the face.

            They didn’t say another word.  Kangin slept alone that night.

            Kangin knew how to keep his hyungs happy.  It was usually just about flattery and attention.  He spent all week complimenting Yesung, flattering him, talking to him, inviting him places, making him dinner, buying him little things to make him happy.

            He didn’t know why.  He just wanted to.  It seemed important.  So he took the time to do it.

            It worked.  It worked really well.  Yesung fell for all of it, right away.  By the end of the week, they were best friends.

            It wasn’t even hard.  They’d known each other for years.  They had a lot of things in common, a lot of history, a lot invested in each other.  Kangin loved attention, and the way that Yesung watched him so intently started to be something he wanted, something he sought.  He missed it, when he dealt with other people.  When Yesung looked at him like that, he knew that he had all of Yesung’s attention, that he was the center of Yesung’s world.  He liked it.

            The most difficult part of the whole thing was not having sex.  He wanted sex.  He wanted sex with Yesung.  His body asked for it every few seconds.  He got hard, really hard, visibly hard, a lot.  But Yesung ignored it, like it wasn’t happening.

            Kangin wanted Yesung to want him.  He wanted Yesung to ask for it.  So he started to push boundaries.  He gave Yesung massages.  He walked in when Yesung was changing clothes, when Yesung was in the shower.  He kept his arm around Yesung whenever he possibly could.  He put his hand on Yesung’s thigh.

            Nothing.  No reaction.  Yesung didn’t even notice, and kept talking to him like they were just friends.

            A week passed.

            Then another.

            They went to Taiwan.

            The first night, Kangin was so nervous, he couldn’t sleep.  But Yesung never came.

            The second night, he was sitting in bed, agitated, frustrated, wondering what to do, asking himself why it was so important for Yesung to want him and love him, wondering why he couldn’t just let it go, when the door opened.

            Standing in the doorway, Yesung looked at him.

            Kangin didn’t know what to say.  His heart hammered in his chest.  He got out a thick syllable.  “Hyung.”

            “You’re so much bigger than everything else around you,” Yesung said.  “You’re so strong.  You don’t wait for anyone to give you anything, you go out and take it.  You take everything.  You own everyone.  You…  I’m not like that.  No one knows what to do with me.  All I have is Super Junior, and my voice.”

            “I don’t want your voice,” Kangin said, feeling tightness in his chest at the sight of Yesung so far away.  “I want you.”

            “You fuck too hard,” Yesung said.  “You talk too much.  You care too much.  You’re too aggressive and too arrogant and too strong.  Your schedule is always overbooked but you always make room for more and you always take time for the members.  You’re too ambitious, you try to do too much at once.  I love that, I love all of those things, I love everything about you.  I’m not embarrassed to say it.  I’d tell everyone in the world, if I could.  I just want to know that it doesn’t embarrass you.”

            Embarrass him?  That Yesung loved him?  “It doesn’t embarrass me.”  He wasn’t ashamed of it, he needed it.  “Just don’t stop.”

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Copyright Copyright July 3, 2009
by Matthew Haldeman-Time