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The first time Jiwoong finds Hanbin in his bed, he doesn't really think anything of it. Hao is away on business; if Hanbin is looking for a steady hand and some reassurance, Jiwoong figures he's the next best thing. It's not much of a surprise, then, to come home from an acting lesson and find Hanbin curled up under the comforter, hugging Jiwoong's whale plushie to his chest and snoring.
Jiwoong pushes Hanbin's sweat-damp hair back with a gentle hand. Their age difference isn't so severe. But Hanbin looks so young like this, innocent and sleeping, forehead smoothed of any worry. He stirs lightly and Jiwoong slowly pulls his hand away, tiptoeing back into the kitchen and setting about reheating leftovers for dinner.
Hanbin slides into a seat at Jiwoong's table a little while later, blush-pink and hot with sleep; he doesn't acknowledge the circumstances, so Jiwoong doesn't press. He feeds Hanbin; they chat a bit about upcoming schedules, they go over some choreo notes, and then Jiwoong gives him a hug and a firm pat on the butt and sends him home.
It becomes a semi-regular occurrence, then, whenever Hao is away or busier than usual. Jiwoong will arrive home to find Hanbin in his apartment, sleeping in his bed or resting on his couch or chatting with the manager. Or Jiwoong will answer a knock at the door to find Hanbin outside, requesting help with a Japanese lesson or acting advice or vocal feedback, shifting bashfully from foot to foot until Jiwoong steps aside and ushers him in.
It's honestly cute, the way that Hanbin seems to act younger, even freer around Jiwoong; it's like he's able to put some of his burden down, forget about the chip on his shoulder for a little while and exist as himself without thinking about it too hard. He can get like that around Hao, too; but with the two of them there's always a crackling undercurrent of tension, some intense remnant of competition that's never quite gone away. With Jiwoong, things are lighter. Jiwoong welcomes that lightness gladly, remembering his own hyungs and how they had made him feel well cared-for and comfortable, and silently renews his internal vow to make sure his own dongsaengs will always feel cherished and protected.
Sometimes Hanbin stays the night, curled up back-to-front with Jiwoong's strong forearm wrapped tightly around his midriff, murmuring thoughts and worries into the encompassing darkness of Jiwoong's bedroom. On those nights, Jiwoong allows himself to press his lips to Hanbin's nape in reassurance, allows their legs to tangle beneath the cool cotton sheets and ground them in simple physicality. Those nights Hanbin always smells fresh and green, boyish and beautifully awkward in Jiwoong's arms. It doesn't progress into anything further—it doesn't need to. It's simple and delicate, a fragile treasure for Jiwoong to cradle in his cupped palms. It's easy. It's nothing. If it's complicated, that's only a result of their other entanglements; of their careers; of the world outside this small apartment.
With Hao away again, Jiwoong expects to find Hanbin in his apartment; expects to find him in his bed, even. What he doesn't expect is to find Hanbin on his knees atop the sheets, with Jiwoong's pillow between his thighs and a deep blush that reaches from the tips of his ears down to some hidden place below the neckline of his tank top. Hanbin's hair is mussed as if with sleep, and his long lashes are clumped together, sparkling and damp. The sight of him leaves Jiwoong with his heart in his throat, breathless and dizzy.
"Hanbin-ah," Jiwoong murmurs, fingertips curling around the doorframe. He watches Hanbin's eyelids flutter open.
"Hyung-ah," is Hanbin's answering greeting, voice thin and cracking around the syllables. "I need..."
Hanbin rolls his hips, groaning. Jiwoong watches the way the light catches on the jut of Hanbin's exposed hipbone, the glimmering sheen of sweat that disappears under the band of his underwear. He hums in sympathy. Swallows hard. Feels his entire body pulse in time with Hanbin's motion.
"What do you need?" Jiwoong asks him.
"Come here," Hanbin tells him. "Come here and find out, hyungie."
He's so beautiful. It makes Jiwoong believe that this can be easy, too; that whatever this thing is that's blooming between them can be sweet and kind and lovely in the way they both deserve. That Hanbin's skin-fresh scent can linger on Jiwoong's sheets and add another precious layer to Jiwoong's conception of love, another little memory that will weave him forever into the patchwork of this time, this place, this version of himself.
Jiwoong runs a hand through Hanbin's dark hair, pushing it back just to watch it fall softly into place again on Hanbin's forehead. Hanbin blinks at him, already red-faced with exertion, thin lips shiny and bitten. He looks, Jiwoong thinks, the way he did when they first met—nervous but wanting, fierce and open; carrying himself with a learned surety that was only just now beginning to feel comfortable after years of insecurity. Jiwoong aches and aches for him—for both of them, maybe. It's a dull and heavy pain; lovely too in its way, unfurling like the petals of a flower to fill the hidden hollow spaces between his ribs. Jiwoong lets Hanbin tug him closer and ease him down.
"You keep looking at me the same way you did on Boys Planet, do you know?" Hanbin tells him, wan little smile on his lips.
"Hm?" It's Jiwoong's turn to blink, gazing up at Hanbin, content to be caged between his thighs, with the warm expanse of Hanbin's waist and lower back beneath his wide palms.
Hanbin reaches down to trace Jiwoong's cheek, his jaw, the slope of his neck and his collarbone. "Like...encouraging? Like you're watching me solve a puzzle you've already figured out." He laughs. "Sorry. I don't know. It's sweet."
Jiwoong pouts, pursing his lips; then he smiles. "Hanbin-ah is sweeter," he singsongs, like it's nothing. It's nothing, and it's true. He massages his thumbs into Hanbin's hips.
Hanbin's eyes are large and dark and his eyelashes cling to his cheek for just a fraction of a second when he blinks. "I want you. Please."
Jiwoong swallows. Nods. Lets Hanbin rearrange them; ends up with his thigh caught between Hanbin's, damp heat of him pressed up against the muscle of Jiwoong's leg. Jiwoong whines, pressing his leg up harder, trying to feel more of him.
"Unfair," Hanbin mumbles, grinding back in return, breathing hard. "You're too cute, hyung, really."
Jiwoong opens his mouth to speak, but Hanbin's fingers are already there, running over his molars, pressing gently down against his tongue.
"I don't want to hear you saying Hanbin-ah is cuter," Hanbin says, laughing a little. "It's a compliment. Just say thank you."
Jiwoong whines around Hanbin's fingers, petulant, and Hanbin slides them out of Jiwoong's mouth. He thumbs away a wet spot at the corner of Jiwoong's lips.
Jiwoong blinks a couple times before speaking. "Thank you, Hanbin-ah," he intones dutifully. He flexes his leg, then sits up and pushes Hanbin down onto his back. He dips his head to kiss Hanbin's stomach, then his chest, pushing up Hanbin's tank top as he goes. "Thank you, Hanbin-ah." He pulls back and lets the material settle, then leans down again and blows a sudden raspberry against Hanbin's collarbone, making him shriek. When Jiwoong pulls away, Hanbin's ears are glowing cherry red. Jiwoong gives him a beatific smile.
Hanbin runs a hand through Jiwoong's silky hair, which is already growing out from his most recent cut; then he tugs Jiwoong in close and kisses him. Jiwoong's heart skips a beat. He cradles Hanbin's head in his hands and licks across the seam of Hanbin's lips, sticky with some unflavored chapstick. The angle is awkward, with Jiwoong bent double and trying not to crush him—but Hanbin sighs sweetly against his mouth and relaxes completely beneath him, and that alone makes everything worth it.
Hanbin pushes his chest out, arching his back and tugging at Jiwoong's hair like he's trying to get closer; he keeps letting out these tiny gasping breaths, each one sounding a little bit surprised, a little bit desperate. It's so endearing. Jiwoong smiles into the kiss, giggling softly when Hanbin pulls away to catch his breath.
Hanbin's hair is a mess. His face is splotched with pink; his eyes half-lidded. He shines with exertion, and there's a damp spot coloring his underwear. He looks young in a way he only ever gets to look at home, behind closed doors; he looks, Jiwoong thinks, the way he might if he'd never become an idol—a shade uncertain but still comfortable, dirty and sweaty and real. He's so, so beautiful.
Hanbin reaches up to cup Jiwoong's cheek in his palm. He lets his thumb trace Jiwoong's plush lips, and Jiwoong presses a kiss to Hanbin's fingertip. When Hanbin speaks, his voice is self-assured and steady. "Want your mouth."
Jiwoong nods even though it's not a question, knowing he probably looks overeager by the way Hanbin smiles at him, eyes crinkling up and dimples appearing. But really, what's the point in pretending; in acting too cool or too distant? Hanbin wants this. Jiwoong wants it, too.
So Jiwoong slides down the bed and situates himself between Hanbin's pale thighs, winding his hands beneath Hanbin's legs to hold him gently in place. He slots his face into the crease between Hanbin's leg and hip and leaves a soft kiss there, feeling the prickle of hair against his skin. Hanbin gasps, his hips kicking up in surprise; but Jiwoong holds his legs apart, turning to mouth at Hanbin over the fabric of his underwear. He flattens his tongue to taste the tang of Hanbin through the damp fabric; lets his tongue drag up to where Hanbin is hot and swollen.
Hanbin curses. "Feels good."
Jiwoong hums in response, hiding his smile against Hanbin's skin. He pulls away to watch Hanbin wiggle and kick his way out of his briefs, then settles back in to mouth at him, appreciating the fullness of his taste without the fabric getting in the way. He kisses the tip of Hanbin's dick, too content in the moment to feel silly about it. Jiwoong's lips are slick and glossy, the crevices of Hanbin's body humid and fragrant; Hanbin groans when Jiwoong tongues at him, muscles in his legs flexing when Jiwoong presses flat against him at a particularly good angle.
Jiwoong feels Hanbin's knuckle brush against his cheek as Hanbin reaches down to slide two fingers into himself, and he has to take a moment just to watch, breath catching at the sight of him. Hanbin's bangs are sticking to his forehead, getting in his eyes; he's still a vibrant blush-pink, color high in his cheeks and spilling across the bridge of his nose.
Hanbin's eyes slide open, and he blinks at Jiwoong. "Why'd you stop?"
Jiwoong blushes then, too, ears going hot. "I just wanted to look at you," he says, and watches Hanbin's eyes crinkle again in embarrassed fondness.
"Woongie-hyung," Hanbin says. "Do you just want to watch?" He's teasing, but the question is sincere.
Jiwoong rests his cheek against Hanbin's leg, looking on as Hanbin slowly thrusts his fingers, lazy and unhurried. A pleasant heat coils low in his gut, warmth diffusing through his body the longer he watches Hanbin's motions—in and out, in and out. Jiwoong feels himself throb in his sweats. He's hard. He watches the flex of Hanbin's wrist, and realizes he feels empty. He swallows.
"No. I want..." Jiwoong says, and pauses. He lets his gaze linger on Hanbin's hand before flicking up to meet his eyes, and then he purses his lips, pouting up at Hanbin.
Hanbin laughs. "I should have guessed. But okay, sure. We can make it work. Do you have any toys, hyung?"
Jiwoong blinks hard a few times, then nods. He scrambles off the bed, stumbling a bit as he hurries to retrieve them from where they're hidden. Hanbin stops touching himself and sits up, waiting until Jiwoong returns with a small assortment of sex toys, mostly modestly sized ones in pastel shades of pink and purple and with varying levels of realism. Hanbin studies them, then studies Jiwoong, who looks back at him with reddened ears and a disarmingly earnest expression.
"Which one do you want me to use?" Hanbin asks, skimming his fingers along the sleek surface of a vibrator.
Jiwoong chooses one without hesitation. It's pale pink and smooth, not too long or too thick; simple and pretty, the way Hanbin is.
Hanbin smiles, like he can read Jiwoong's thoughts just from his expression. "Can I pick one for you?"
Jiwoong nods. Hanbin thinks for a moment with his head tilted, then chooses a purple one that's a little more realistically shaped than some of the others in Jiwoong's collection, a little longer and thicker.
Hanbin smiles at him again, angelic and gorgeous. "I want to see hyungie stretched around this one," he says cheerfully, and Jiwoong swallows hard, feeling himself throb with the sudden pulse of heat that rushes through his body.
"Sure," he murmurs, leaning in to press their foreheads together. "Whatever you want."
Hanbin tilts his chin up and kisses him, slipping his tongue into Jiwoong's mouth, sweet and dirty. "Clothes off, please," he says when they break apart, tugging his own tank top off as he speaks. "Lay down."
Jiwoong does as he's told and finds himself in much the same position they had started in, on his back and blinking up at Hanbin.
Naked, Hanbin is a bit gangly and awkward, his bone structure pronounced; his skin is dotted here and there with acne and stretch marks, mottled pink with the heated flush that reaches to his sternum. But still, he's soft and gentle in his movements; conscientious in the way he touches, conscious of the space he occupies.
Jiwoong knows, in a detached sort of way, that people consider him to be sexy and attractive and desirable. Even if he doesn't particularly like it or agree with it all the time, he knows how to wear it, how to carry himself; how to use that objectification as a shield. But Hanbin is still new to this—still learning how to part his hair and tilt his head just-so, still learning how much of himself he can safely couch in personas and behind façades. Still learning how to let himself be wanted.
Jiwoong just wants him. Pure and all-encompassing. Simple and light.
He lets his hands skirt up the sides of Hanbin's ribcage; revels in the feeling of Hanbin's fluttering breaths beneath his fingertips. Then Hanbin reaches out to place a hand flat on Jiwoong's chest, and Jiwoong realizes that Hanbin can see him, too, past all the layers and the well-practiced expressions and the carefully curated exterior. And whatever Hanbin sees in him—bare and trembling on the bed, hair coming unstyled and curling softly over his forehead, sweaty and hard and dripping for him—Hanbin really does want that. Really wants him, too. Hanbin lets his hand trail down until he can get his thumb and forefinger around Jiwoong and stroke him; once, twice. Jiwoong has to close his eyes, accidentally squeezing Hanbin's sides when his hands tighten, making Hanbin inhale sharply and then giggle it out.
Hanbin stops stroking him and instead slides his hand over Jiwoong in broad strokes, fingers teasing and palm catching on the head of his dick, until Jiwoong is soaked and messy and panting. He feels himself pulse and flutter around nothing at all.
"Please," Jiwoong manages, chest heaving. "Please—"
Hanbin's first two fingers just barely, barely press inside. "Okay?"
Jiwoong nods. Hanbin thrusts his fingers into Jiwoong fully, pressing up, stretching him out as Jiwoong groans.
"Ready?" Hanbin murmurs, and Jiwoong nods again, harder this time, eyes wide. Hanbin slips his fingers out of Jiwoong and takes his hand instead, curling Jiwoong's fingers around the toy he'd picked. "Let me see you, then."
Jiwoong looks at him, really looks. Hanbin's eyes are dark; there's sweat beading at his temple. He looks—eager. Hungry in a way that Jiwoong rarely sees him look so openly—only in fleeting moments, when the cameras aren't on; when Hanbin thinks no one else can see. And the feeling of being wanted so purely, so nakedly, crashes through Jiwoong like an unstoppable wave. He takes a deep breath and presses the toy inside himself, watching Hanbin watch him with that sharp glint of hunger in his eyes.
It hurts, just a bit, and the position is awkward, with Jiwoong on his back and Hanbin leaning over him, straddling his thigh. It hurts, and it's perfect—the way Hanbin bites his lip, the way he slides his hands up Jiwoong's torso with a groan, so affected just by the sight of him. Jiwoong flexes a bit, appreciating the feeling of finally being full—with the way Hanbin is looking at him, eyes shiny and wide, it's easy to imagine it's Hanbin inside him, all overwhelming perfect fit. Jiwoong releases a heavy breath, slowing his thrusts and rolling his hips in time. His thigh brushes against Hanbin's own wet hardness, and Hanbin gasps, shocked and lovely.
"Oh, let me—" Hanbin twists around, looking for the toy Jiwoong had picked for him. He turns back to Jiwoong. "Open your mouth."
Jiwoong lets his mouth fall open; lets Hanbin push the toy inside. The silicone is cool, but warms quickly against his tongue. Jiwoong lets saliva pool in his mouth and feels it run down his chin when Hanbin drags the toy out, satisfied.
From this angle, Jiwoong can't see Hanbin pressing it inside himself; instead, he sees Hanbin's eyes flutter closed, watches Hanbin's mouth slacken in pleasure. He holds his breath to catch Hanbin's tiny gasps; feels the heat of him, hovering just above his thigh. Jiwoong can't resist pressing up towards it, feeling the toy's base against his leg, pushing it in deeper and going warm all over at the sudden cry that drops from Hanbin's lips.
"Ah, more," Hanbin says, nearly frantic with it. "Please."
Jiwoong nudges him with his thigh again, and Hanbin takes the hint, arching his back and letting Jiwoong's leg take some of his weight. Between the roll of Hanbin's hips and the wrecked expression on his face—between Hanbin's weight atop him and the insistent press of the toy inside him—Jiwoong is filled with a diffuse heat, content to be exactly where he is. The skin to skin contact makes him buzz. Lost in sensation, Jiwoong stops paying attention to himself, and focuses on Hanbin.
The moment stretches out like honey, thick and clear and shining: golden hour sunlight that slants across the planes of Hanbin's body. Slow and sticky slide of skin-on-skin. Pleasure like a bubble inside Jiwoong that grows and grows and grows until he's all full with it, trembling, threatening to burst.
Hanbin mewls, and breaks the spell. Jiwoong gasps, feeling everything at once—his sore muscles, the unyielding silicone inside him. It catches up with him suddenly, making him clench; it's like he thinks about it a little too hard, and then just as suddenly, he's coming, thighs shaking beneath Hanbin's weight.
Hanbin holds his breath and rests his hand against Jiwoong's stomach, just to feel his muscles tense and release.
"Good?" Hanbin asks, and Jiwoong can hear the tender smile in his voice. He blinks his eyes back open.
"Good," Jiwoong affirms, blinking a couple times.
"You came so fast," Hanbin says. "Do you always?"
Jiwoong puffs out his cheeks, looking up as he thinks and then flicking his gaze back to Hanbin. "...Sometimes?"
Hanbin closes his eyes for a second, then opens them again. "That's so cute, hyungie. You're so cute."
The still air seems to settle around them. Jiwoong shifts a bit, making Hanbin hiss when he flexes his thigh and jostles the toy inside him.
"Is this good, like this?" Jiwoong asks him, voice quiet, and Hanbin nods.
"Mhm," Hanbin says, eyes screwed shut as he grinds back. "Do you mind if I—" He collapses forward, tucking his face into Jiwoong's neck, and Jiwoong holds him steady against his chest.
Hanbin moans, and it makes Jiwoong shiver. He tightens around the toy still in him, aftershocks of his orgasm still sparking down his spine; his hips stutter, but he keeps rocking his leg dutifully against Hanbin, mind blissfully empty of everything except the desire to get him off.
"I'm so hard," Hanbin tells him and it's like a confession, murmured in his ear. "So hard for you."
"I know," Jiwoong says, pressing a kiss against Hanbin's soft hair, soothing. "I know, Hanbin-ah." He shifts again, and Hanbin cries out suddenly.
"Right there, right there!" Hanbin rolls his hips a couple of times, but quickly becomes so overcome with sensation that all he can do is grind back desperately, his little cries getting higher and higher. Jiwoong can feel him, hard, pressed against his body; Hanbin ruts against him, faster and faster until finally he heaves a long, shuddering gasp, trembling in Jiwoong's hold.
Hanbin pants into Jiwoong's ear for a few seconds, then he rolls over and takes a deep breath.
"Fuck," Hanbin says wholeheartedly. Then he starts giggling, which sets Jiwoong off, too. They lay there for a moment, Hanbin tucked comfortably against Jiwoong's side.
"Woongie-hyung," Hanbin asks, honey-sweet.
"Mhm?"
"Do you think you can come again?" Hanbin blinks his large, dark eyes. He amends his question before Jiwoong can even answer: "Can I make you come again?"
Jiwoong is so, so fond of him. Wants to take care of him. Would give him anything he asked for. "I don't know if I can. But you can try."
Hanbin wriggles happily, extricating his arm from where it's trapped between them, pausing only to give Jiwoong a kiss on the cheek. Hanbin slides the toy out of himself and lets it drop to the floor; then he props himself up, sucking his first two fingers into his mouth briefly before reaching down to press and rub at Jiwoong's dick.
Jiwoong jolts immediately at his touch, eyes squeezing shut at his own oversensitivity.
"Too much?" Hanbin asks, and Jiwoong shakes his head. Hanbin hums in appreciation; he applies more pressure, deliberately pressing Jiwoong's dick between his fingertips and the shaft of the toy that's still inside him.
Jiwoong whines, writhing. Hanbin doesn't let him get away, though; he cages Jiwoong in and moves his hand even faster.
Jiwoong's entire body tenses—it feels incredible, and it hurts like hell. It's horrible. It's perfect. Hanbin croons into his ear, then tips his chin and bites down on Jiwoong's neck. Jiwoong shouts. Hanbin keeps touching him. The pleasure mounts and mounts and mounts, coming to a plateau that has Jiwoong's thighs shaking with effort, sweat collecting in the divots of his body. Hanbin keeps touching him, and when Jiwoong thinks he can't possibly take anymore, it all suddenly crests and coalesces into another crashing orgasm—head tipped back, tendons quivering, soaring, soaring, soaring.
Jiwoong feels, distantly, Hanbin's hand on his body, fingers splayed out across his ribs. Feels Hanbin ease the toy out of him, shushing Jiwoong gently when he whimpers at the resulting ache and emptiness.
"Okay?" Hanbin asks him eventually. "Want some water?"
Jiwoong thinks it over, flexing his fingers and toes before sitting up. He's sticky. Sweaty. Sore, too, but Hanbin looks pleased, so Jiwoong is happy. "I have to pee."
Hanbin laughs. Jiwoong hadn't been trying to be funny, but he likes hearing Hanbin laugh, so he laughs too.
"Go pee," Hanbin says, then in over-enunciated English: "Go piss, girl."
Jiwoong just blinks at him, tilting his head to one side, and Hanbin flashes an impish smile, dimples appearing high on his cheekbones. "Ricky and Mashu won't stop saying it."
Jiwoong snorts at that, ruffling Hanbin's already-mussed hair as he hauls himself out of bed. Hanbin flops back and spreads his arms out, getting comfortable.
"I can heat up some food after," Jiwoong promises, and turns to leave.
"Hyungie," Hanbin calls to him, and Jiwoong stops, looking back at him with one hand on the doorframe. Hanbin's ears are pink again. He waves his phone at Jiwoong.
"I'm gonna call Hao," Hanbin says. "Hurry back so you can say hi."
"Okay," Jiwoong says. He doesn't move from the doorway. He very seriously sends Hanbin a flying kiss, and Hanbin pretends to catch it out of the air and eat it. Jiwoong giggles.
"Go," Hanbin says, eyes crinkled up. "I'll be here, go."
Jiwoong blows him one more kiss, and goes.