#ikonetss

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Jinhwan had always liked receiving compliments.

You can see his world lighting up when he’s been told that he’s getting better at singing, at performing, that he looks more natural on stage. You can see it in the glimmer in his eyes as he smiles, in the upward scrunch of his face as he bows and says thank you.

He always liked being good for the other members, always guided them when they struggled during practice. Jinhwan had always cheered them up when Hanbin scolds them for not doing part of the dance right, tells them it’s fine don’t worry and you’ll get it soon there’s no need to stress yourself.

Bobby thinks it’s cute. He thinks it’s really cute when Jinhwan clings to the collar of his shirt when his hand comes up to cup his chin and draws him into a kiss. Jinhwan whines against his mouth a bit, licking inside, gasping, trying not to be too loud that the other members would hear. Bobby grinds down against him, grinning against his lips.

“Jinhwanie hyung is such a good boy.”

Something catches in Jinhwan’s throat as the two words reach his ears and he tenses, arousal building up in the pit of his stomach. It makes his toes curl and he shifts uncomfortably around on the bed, but Bobby has him mounted and he really can’t move much.

Jinhwan covers his face with an arm and keens when Bobby runs his fingers against his nipples through the fabric of his shirt. He can feel laughter in the curve of his neck, breath hot against his skin.

“My baby is so cute,” Bobby is smiling at him, blindingly almost, and Jinhwan trembles at the petname. 

“Don’t say things like that,” Jinhwan huffs sporadically between breaths.

“But don’t you like it when I call you that?” Bobby tilts his head in question, teasing him. There’s a hand creeping up his sides under his shirt, the other down his underwear to knead at his ass. It works its way to the front, proceeding to stroke him up and down slowly.

Jinhwan lets out a whine as he flushes a shade of red, avoiding eye contact, stuttering, “I-I do but-” 

“Then I’ll keep doing it,” Bobby leans down to kiss at Jinhwan’s forehead and motions for Jinhwan to sit up on the bed. He shimmies Jinhwan out of his shirt and pants, drops them messily on the floor, and slips out of his clothes as well.

“Get on top,” Bobby orders, and Jinhwan follows obediently, switching places and straddling his hips. “Good boy.”

It’s almost unsettling how uncharacteristic Bobby always sounds, comical even. Jinhwan always liked doing what he was told, and Bobby always liked babying him even though he was younger. It came out of nowhere at first, Bobby had said it on a whim. But now, sometimes whispers it in Jinhwan’s ear when he least expects it, and it always has Jinhwan in so much fucking heat that he never had it in himself to stop.

Bobby reaches into the nightstand and hands Jinhwan a small bottle of lube, “Prep yourself.”

Jinhwan blushes even deeper, and he wants to be praised, he really does, wants to be good for Bobby, but god this is so embarrassing he could die. He feels Bobby’s eyes all over him as his hands tremble when they pop the cap and slicks a finger up. He steadies himself on his knees and positions the digit at his entrance, swirls it around in a circle, and forces it in.

Jinhwan starts slowly at first, eyes clenched shut tight as he starts sliding his finger in and out. He adds another when he creates a steady rhythm, trying to hit the spot that his fingers aren’t long enough to reach. Bobby still finds it amazing how responsive Jinhwan can be.

Jinhwan builds enough grit to stare Bobby in the eyes, and he’s gazing at him from below, watching attentively as Jinhwan fucks himself open, “God you look so good like this.” And that has Jinhwan picking up the pace, head hanging low because shit this isn’t enough. 

“Bobby-ah, Bobby, Jiwon.” Jinhwan says his name as if it were honey on his tongue and he quivers, legs wavering as he grows impatient, and Bobby nods as Jinhwan slips his fingers out. He’s hard, so insufferably hard that he’s dripping precome onto Bobby’s stomach.

Bobby slips on a condom slicks himself up with lube as Jinhwan shifts and raises himself onto Bobby’s cock, taking a deep breath. He winces as he sinks down, tears pooling at his eyes as he tries to adapt to the stretch. Bobby grabs him by the hips and thrusts up, and Jinhwan cries out sharply when he hits the spot at the right angle.

He wants to cry almost, they don’t do this too often, and he’s never really gotten used to the feeling. Jinhwan braces himself against Bobby’s thighs, pupils so blown that his irises are almost indiscernible, heaving in staccato rhythm.

He rides Bobby’s cock at a steady pace, gasps when Bobby begins to jerk him off along to the thrusts. Jinhwan’s head tips back in pleasure, moaning out a scramble of words that he can’t really make out himself. The slide is so wet and hot that it’s almost staggering, and it’s borderline obscene how Jinhwan whimpers into Bobby’s mouth when he begs him harder.

Jinhwan’s being watched, admired, and his chest swells in an odd sense of pride, and he’s content. He tries his best although his knees are growing weak and it’s exhausting to manage a stroke on his own.

Bobby had grown impatient, slamming Jinhwan down onto him in quick and shallow thrusts. Bobby hits his prostate repetitively and Jinhwan tries to bite back the sob that threatens to spill, trying to balance himself. His lips are swollen pink, biting down nearly to the point of drawing blood. Sweaty locks stick to his forehead and fire ignites on Jinhwan’s skin in little pinpricks. He’s close, he’s really close, vision starting to blur.

“Jinhwan, god, if only you could see yourself like this,” Bobby’s voice is low and oddly steady when he leans to whisper in Jinhwan’s ear. “Do you like it? Does my cock feel good? You’re so good for me Jinhwan, such a good boy.”

“Ah, Bobby, I’m- I’m gonna-” and hits him so fast that he sees stars behind his eyelids. Jinhwan shudders and clenches tight around Bobby as he comes, spilling all over his stomach and chest (it almost catches in his hair even), and it has Bobby following right after.

Jinhwan collapses on top of Bobby, and he thinks it’s absolutely adorable how Jinhwan struggles to catch his breath. Bobby cards his fingers through his hair, locks sliding through them in waves, and pecks Jinhwan’s forehead when he falls asleep.

Bobby smiles as he shifts from under Jinhwan and stands up to go wash himself up. He glances back down at him for a moment, scans his eyes over lithe limbs and soft, supple skin, and he thinks that Jinhwan would look really good in lace.

- - -

- - -

Hanbin definitely didn’t see it coming.

It had started as a joke, initially, with no motive behind it. Junhwe didn’t intend to do it, but as his hand shot up and gripped on his throat, Hanbin’s breath hitches. He doesn’t know what it is that makes the air in his lungs heavier, or what kind of switch Junhwe had suddenly jammed his finger into, but he’s certain Junhwe had noticed when he feels that his fingers have stilled.

There’s a dead silence hanging in the air, Junhwe holding his gaze a bit too long, and Hanbin can’t help but squirm from the pressure around his neck. Junhwe then takes notice because what the fuck is he doing, and snatches his hand away like he burned himself.

They both stare off in different directions, but Junhwe turns and eyes at Hanbin questioningly when he shifts and sits up on the couch, and something catches in his line of vision.

“Hanbin are you-” he stops when he sees a flush of red creep on Hanbin’s face, spreading to his ears. He has a hand in a fist covering his mouth in embarrassment. It’s almost endearing, actually. The space in between them widens and silence grows heavier as Hanbin scoots himself over and stands up.

“Just- Forget about it,” Hanbin brushes him off and hurries to the bathroom. He promptly locks the door behind him and drags his palms over his face.

“Jesus Christ, Kim Hanbin. What was that?” he faces himself in the mirror. A shower, he decides, feeling particularly uncomfortable in the wetness of his jeans.

- - -

Neither of them have said a single thing. It’s not like they’re especially uncomfortable to each other, nothing like what Junhwe has going on with Jiwon. They’re rather close, actually. They just don’t speak of it. It never happened.

Junhwe has gotten a bit fixated, though. He doesn’t quite know why, but he sometimes finds himself unconsciously staring at Hanbin’s neck when they’re practicing, or when he rubs at it in stress in the studio while composing. He imagines purple and blue marks against Hanbin’s pale skin, he’s always bruised prettily.

Junhwe thinks about it, thinks about it all the time, but nobody notices. They just say he’s a bit out of loop and brush it off like it’s nothing.

They’re both alone, the dorms almost disquieting in their emptiness. Light shines weakly through the windows, sky burning into a haze reds and oranges as the sun begins to die off into the horizon. The only sound resonating through the walls is the gentle whir of the ceiling fan and the hustling of crowded metro stations outside. All of the other members are out shopping, Hanbin complaining about being too tired and Junhwe never really wanting to do anything.

Hanbin sits with Junhwe on the couch, legs thrown over each other in a tangle, flipping through television channels in quick progression. Junhwe sings the chorus of a random song to himself as he watches.

Hanbin seems a little unnerved as he shifts, lips pressed into a tight line, pushing back his hair away from his forehead. Junhwe looks at him confoundedly.

“Hanbin, have you been holding off?” he almost chokes when he hears the question.

“No? I mean, not really,” he glances away in embarrassment.

“Don’t lie to me. You get all tense when you haven’t gotten off properly. It’s not hard to tell,” Junhwe deadpans, and his eyes trail down when he sees Hanbin’s adam’s apple bob and twitch when he gulps down.

Fucking snap out of it Koo Junhwe.

“Guess I can’t really hide it, huh?” Hanbin hand goes up to rub at the back of his neck on habit again, and he notices that Hanbin really is hard, and Junhwe decides fuck it. He heaves himself off of the couch and sighs almost comically when he grabs Hanbin by the wrist and drags him into one of their shared bedrooms.

Junhwe throws him down onto a bed, straddling his hips as he grinds down onto Hanbin’s crotch. Hanbin moans and Junhwe cups his chin and kisses him like he means it. Hanbin whines into Junhwe’s mouth, sweet like honey on his tongue as he wraps his arms around Junhwe’s neck and claws at his shoulder blades.

They’re used to this, all of them are, but somewhere between the closed doors and the mussed hair and the fingernails dragging lines down onto backs, Junhwe finds his fingers on Hanbin’s neck again. It’s dead quiet, and the only thing that reaches Junhwe’s ears is the faint sound of Hanbin’s rhythmic breathing.

Veins protrude out of the column of his neck as deft fingers stroke at his adam’s apple. Junhwe can feel Hanbin’s cock straining through his sweats under him as his entire body tenses, the rise and fall of his chest quickening, face flushing and thighs quivering.

Junhwe wants to, he really does.

“Do it.”

That catches him by surprise.

“Don’t worry,” Hanbin’s voice falters and Junhwe, unsure, looks up at him like he’s asking for permission, “I want you to.”

“Can I really?” Junhwe asks in nervousness and he’s given a nod. “Seriously?”

“Yes, you can. I want you to, so it’s fine,” Hanbin reassures him. Junhwe shifts and steadies himself as he repositions his fingers, taking a deep breath.

“Ready?” Junhwe settles himself on Hanbin’s lap, “Tell me when I should stop, okay?”

Junhwe rubs smooth circles into Hanbin’s skin and feels the pulsing beat of arteries and perspiration dripping onto his palms. He runs his hands along Junhwe’s forearm and nods.

Then, Junhwe’s fingers flex, and all of Hanbin’s worries leave his train of thought like fleeting, twittering little birds.

Junhwe treads cautiously, feeling the softness of his throat, only applying light pressure that doesn’t quite retrain his breathing. Hanbin’s toes curl as his body goes rigid and he writhes. Junhwe notices how Hanbin’s eyes flutter shut as he gives in, how pliant and yielding he is under him, and he really doesn’t know what kind of spark lit from inside him that has him tightening his grip further.

Hanbin’s heart picks up tenfold, pulse pounding behind his ears. There’s a choked cry as he gasps for air on instinct, and he can feel Junhwe’s hold on his throat waver.

“Harder, god, Junhwe harder-” and he obliges. The fingers around Hanbin’s neck constrict and the pressure is so strong and tight that he realizes he really can’t breathe, and it hits him. It hits him so hard and so fast that it has his eyes watering and his back arching of the mattress. A swirl of white fogs over Hanbin’s vision like a cloud, and everything begins to haze around the edges.

Hanbin feels oddly at ease, so lightheaded he might be nearing the edge of passing out. And he wants it, craves it. He loves the airiness in his head, loves the feeling like he’s floating so much he’s visibly shaking. He can feel Junhwe’s eyes all over him, and Hanbin really doesn’t want it to end, but the grip Junhwe has on him is too good, the aching of his cock almost unbearable and he’s so, so terribly close.

Junhwe feels a tapping on his arm as Hanbin gasps for him to stop.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Hanbin gasps, and Junhwe can’t stop thinking about what exactly just happened, can’t stop staring, until he remembers that both of them are still very much hard.

“So can we?” Hanbin nods, and Junhwe watches his face flush even more and reaches into a drawer. He shimmies Hanbin out of his pants and shirt and does the same for himself. Hanbin spreads himself open, waiting patiently and god he looks so good. Junhwe squeezes some lube onto his fingers and presses them at his entrance, circling, teasing almost, until he pushes the first digit in and Hanbin whines into his fist.

Junhwe preps him agonizingly slow, watching the way his face contorts from the intrusion. He slips out before he adds another, scissoring, and Hanbin tries his best to stay quiet, gasping and clutching at the sheets while Junhwe fingerfucks him open. He kisses at Hanbin’s chest, mouthing at the wide expanse of skin and teasing at a nipple with his free hand.

“Junhwe, hurry up, come on,” Hanbin begs, and Junhwe is growing impatient, so he slides his fingers out and throws Hanbin’s legs over his shoulders. He rolls on a condom and slicks himself up, positioning himself. Hanbin hisses and grits his teeth as Junhwe pushes in, bit by bit, until he’s fully seated inside and waits for Hanbin to adjust.

“God, you’re so tight,” Junhwe grunts as begins to move, sliding out almost completely and ramming himself back in. He rocks his hips and Hanbin’s eyes screw shut and his head tips back in a moan, baring his throat at Junhwe again when he gets the angle right. Junhwe sucks marks into his skin, into his neck and collarbones, as he fucks Hanbin down onto the bed.

Hanbin is panting Junhwe’s name like a prayer, finding himself whining harder harder harder, his voice going hoarse and rough and fucked out. Junhwe’s thrusts grow shallow and erratic, leaning down to kiss Hanbin and pumping him off to the rhythm. His other hand wanders up Hanbin’s stomach, his chest and his ribs, until it’s wrapped around his throat.

“Junhwe, god, I’m close,” Junhwe’s grip tightens as he snaps his hips sharply, and Hanbin clenches around him as he comes, white in his vision. Junhwe manages a few more thrusts before his orgasm hits and collapses on top of him, out of breath.

Junhwe pulls out and they lay like that for a few minutes, and he strokes his fingers against Hanbin’s neck. It’s beginning to bruise.

“Well at least now I know what you’re into,” Hanbin heaves as he shoves Junhwe off of him. “Don’t even try to lie, I know you’ve been staring.”

Junhwe blushes beet red in surprise ands tries to kick Hanbin off of the bed. “You sly little bastard-“

“It’s okay, though. I don’t really mind it.”

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