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Yeonjun clicked on a random post on Weverse and chuckled, reading the ridiculous pick up lines their fans posted. He was never going to take the bait, but he commended them for always trying.
Propping his feet up on the other side of the couch, he debated on what to respond to this particular one with when Beomgyu’s low voice rang through their quiet dorm, “I’m home!”
Beomgyu and Taehyun had been whisked off after practice by their manager to do something or other, and while Taehyun had returned a little while ago, Beomgyu had been absent. Glancing up, Yeonjun hummed, “Welcome h—”
The words died in his throat when he registered what he was looking at.
Beomgyu was shrugging off his heavy padded jacket, sliding his hat covered with little flakes of snow off his head.
His head, which now had much shorter hair than he had just a few hours ago.
“You cut your hair,” Yeonjun said. He didn’t mean for it to come out accusatory.
Smiling brightly, Beomgyu reached up and played one of the thick, stray locks of hair by his cheek. “Yeah. Finally. What do you think?” He looked pretty, in a different way than before. Obviously. Beomgyu always looked pretty.
“You’re not going to get your ego boosted from me, sorry.”
The laugh Beomgyu gave was loud and carefree. “You’re so mean to me, hyung.”
Beomgyu turned on his heel and swerved to the kitchen to get a snack, and Yeonjun watched him, his own thin smile dropping once Beomgyu was turned away.
He calmed the butterflies in his stomach and went back to chatting with fans on Weverse, staunchly ignoring the image of Beomgyu he couldn’t get out of his head.
Beomgyu had been talking about cutting his hair for months, so, logically, it wasn’t that surprising that he did. But Yeonjun had gotten very used to seeing him with long hair, and the vibe he gave off with short hair was totally different. It was weird. He hadn’t realized how vital Beomgyu’s long hair had been for his image recently, until it was gone.
There were a lot of things Yeonjun was realizing, actually.
Case in point: Beomgyu’s neck.
With his long hair, it’d always been covered, only little patches of skin poking out from beneath his thick mane. Now that his hair was short, it could actually be seen again, and oh boy, was Yeonjun seeing.
In fact, Yeonjun couldn’t stop seeing. He felt like he was cursed.
When Beomgyu smirked or giggled, he lifted his head, and his neck stretched, revealing so much skin Yeonjun thought he was going to have a heart attack. When he was focused, he swallowed and his throat bobbed. When he was sleepy, he chucked his chin downwards and to the side, showing off one side of his neck.
Yeonjun had never even registered necks as being something he was into before now. It didn’t even make sense. It wasn’t like he’d never seen Beomgyu’s neck before.
Right now, they were filming for a segment on their variety show, and Soobin was chasing Beomgyu around with a water gun. Unfortunately for Beomgyu, Soobin had much longer legs and caught up with him easily; soon Beomgyu was drenched from head to toe, white shirt clinging to his chest and his hair matted to the sides of his face.
The skin of his neck glistened. I want to bite him, Yeonjun thought, then jolted, because where the fuck had that come from?
“Hyung!” Beomgyu shrieked, and then Yeonjun was blasted in the face with a heavy spray of water. He sputtered. “Caught you!”
“I wasn’t running,” Yeonjun deadpanned, wiping his face with his sleeve and swallowing the salty water which had gotten into his mouth.
“Still caught you,” Beomgyu said cheekily, cocking the gun with a bright smile. He did that thing where he lifted his head and smirked, and Yeonjun couldn’t bring himself to force a smile back.
Not when he was staring straight at the line of Beomgyu’s neck, the stretch of pale skin where Yeonjun could easily imagine his teeth would fit.
Fuck. Fuck.
So the natural progression from Yeonjun’s fixation on Beomgyu’s hair to his neck was apparently to jump to wanting to do something to said neck, and the only things you could really do to a neck were a) choke it or b) bite it. His brain chose ‘b’.
It didn’t help that their stylists started to take advantage of Beomgyu’s newly-bared neck by putting collars on him all the time. Supposedly it fit their concept, but Yeonjun was convinced that Beomgyu had asked their stylists to put him in them on the basis of torturing Yeonjun. He was feeling sufficiently tortured.
“Can you help me, hyung? It’s a bit tight,” Beomgyu groaned. He tugged at the collar he was wearing, a pseudo-leather belt, thin with a large bow at the middle. “The clasp is at the back.”
Coughing to clear his throat, Yeonjun nodded. He brushed the hair at Beomgyu’s nape aside and carefully undid the back of the collar, allowing it to fall off his neck. It left a faint red line on his skin, and Yeonjun’s pupils dilated staring at it. Beomgyu’s skin got red so easily.
“Hyung?” Beomgyu prompted.
“Sorry,” Yeonjun blurted out, then flushed himself. He hadn’t meant for it to come out so loudly. “How loose do you want it?”
“Maybe one notch lower?”
Yeonjun loosened the belt to the next level and then wrapped it back around Beomgyu’s neck. Beomgyu jolted a little at the touch, humming lowly, and the sound went straight to the heat pooling in Yeonjun’s gut.
And if Yeonjun’s fingers brushed over Beomgyu’s skin for a little too long, he hoped Beomgyu didn’t notice.
(Beomgyu definitely noticed.
“Huh,” he said, once the collar was secured again. He reached up to touch it, testing the weight of it around his neck. “Interesting.” He was looking at Yeonjun in the mirror, not himself or the collar.
“What?” Yeonjun frowned, trying and failing to act natural.
Beomgyu spun around, laughing, and put his hands on his hips. “Nothing, hyung, nothing.”
It was not nothing.)
It was definitely not nothing.
A few days later, they were doing interviews for the new year, of which the questions mostly consisted of ‘did you accomplish what you wanted to in 2021’ and ‘what was your favourite part of the year’ and so on and so forth.
In one interview, they were asked “What’s something unexpected that happened recently?”
“Beomgyu cut his hair,” Soobin said. “I thought he’d keep it for a while longer.”
“Me too!” Huening Kai whined. “I didn’t want him to cut it!”
“It was tedious.” Beomgyu sighed. “It was always getting in my face. And besides, cutting it had another benefit.” His gaze slid across the room to Yeonjun, and Yeonjun’s blood ran cold.
“Huh?” Huening Kai looked between them, squinting.
“Ask Yeonjun hyung,” Beomgyu said.
Everyone turned towards Yeonjun, and Yeonjun frowned at him, baffled. They were in an interview. That could go public. And Beomgyu was really putting him on the spot like this?
“… He no longer sheds long hair everywhere. It was getting annoying, so I was happy he cut it,” Yeonjun said feebly, trying to think of literally any semi-believable excuse. The other members didn’t look too impressed, but the interviewer ran with his answer, making a joke about Beomgyu shedding like some sort of cat. Yeonjun breathed a sigh of relief.
Beomgyu didn’t look at him for the rest of the interview, smugness radiating off him in waves.
“What is your problem?” Yeonjun asked after, practically shoving Beomgyu up against the wall he was leisurely strolling past.
Beomgyu tilted his head. (He’d been doing that a lot lately.) He didn’t even flinch. “I don’t have a problem. Do you have a problem, hyung?”
“No,” Yeonjun said gruffly. Because even if Beomgyu seemed to be aware of Yeonjun’s new fixation, he still had no idea how to say something like I want to bite you so bad out loud without dying from mortification.
“Then there’s no problem.” Beomgyu smiled. Yeonjun wasn’t quite sure if he believed that.
The final straw came a few days later, after they finished their schedule for the day and were allowed to return home. Soobin, Huening Kai, and Beomgyu had already made plans to watch a movie, while Taehyun called one of his other friends and Yeonjun took a shower.
After he got clean, he pulled on a black sleeveless shirt and his favourite pair of pyjama pants. He could probably fall asleep right now if he crawled into bed, but he knew he should probably eat something, considering they hadn’t had anything all day. Stretching his arms above his head, he dragged himself back to the living room to make his way to the kitchen.
And then stopped in his tracks, mid-stretch, his jaw tightening.
A loose black t-shirt fell off Beomgyu’s broad shoulders, exposing one side: a beautiful, unblemished expanse. Except the display of skin alone wasn’t what caught Yeonjun’s attention— it was the shirt itself.
That was definitely Yeonjun’s shirt.
Beomgyu was wearing his shirt.
“Is that mine?” Yeonjun hissed. Beomgyu looked over his shoulder and then laughed at his face.
“Maybe,” he said, smiling coyly. “If you didn’t want me to take it, you shouldn’t have left it in the dryer.”
Yeonjun didn’t laugh. Beomgyu, seeing Yeonjun’s blank expression, quieted down, his smile falling slightly as he realized Yeonjun wasn’t amused as he was.
He shifted more to face him, over the back of the couch, and the shirt slipped further down, exposing his collarbones. Yeonjun breathed out slowly through his nose, grinding his teeth together.
This little brat. If he thought Yeonjun was just going to sit back and accept being tormented like this, in their own home, he was mistaken. He was a pretty patient person, but even he had his limits.
“Can we chat in my room? Now?”
“Ooooh,” Huening Kai intoned. “Someone’s in trouble.”
Beomgyu’s eyes widened, and for once, he actually looked panicked. Good, Yeonjun thought. He should feel panicked. He’d brought this upon himself. “Calm down, hyung, it was just a—”
“Beomgyu.”
Looking at Soobin, who only shrugged, Beomgyu sighed and grumbled, defeated, “Fine.”
“Good. Come on.”
Beomgyu looked like a kicked puppy as he trailed Yeonjun to his room; once they entered, he turned and locked the door, gesturing for Beomgyu to sit on his bed. He did so, somewhat reluctantly, knees pressed together and cheeks puffed out.
“So,” Yeonjun started. “I was just wondering— what the hell is your problem?”
Beomgyu licked his lips. “I told you. I don’t have a problem, hyung,” he said with a pout. “Do you?”
“Yeah, I do,” Yeonjun agreed readily, which seemed to surprise Beomgyu. Yeonjun walked over to the bed, sitting down beside him, and Beomgyu inched away when the mattress dipped.
“Hyung…”
“I know you think you’re funny,” Yeonjun said, his eyes flickering between Beomgyu’s pretty, pink face and the blush creeping down his neck. “But I don’t find it as funny as you do.”
“You’re just really obvious, hyung. I wanted to know how serious you were,” Beomgyu grumbled, having the audacity to roll his eyes.
He had backed up all the way to the wall, caged in between it and Yeonjun’s body. “Did I seem like I was joking around?”
“You tease me all the time,” Beomgyu said defensively. “Why can’t I do it back?”
“You’re all bark and no bite,” Yeonjun said. He grasped the back of Beomgyu’s head, marveling at how soft his hair was, at the way Beomgyu froze up in surprise. “But I bark and bite.”
Beomgyu made a small noise, and Yeonjun eyed him, waiting for him to speak up, or move away, or do something. But he only stared at Yeonjun in return, not saying anything.
He didn’t move at all as Yeonjun leaned forward, closer and closer until his lips were pressed to Beomgyu’s skin.
“Ah,” Beomgyu let out a gasp when Yeonjun grazed his teeth over the side of his neck.
“Beomgyu,” Yeonjun breathed out. “If you want me to stop, you need to tell me now,” he warned, lifting his head up just enough so he could look Beomgyu in the eyes.
Beomgyu’s tongue poked out from between his plush lips. He continued to stay silent.
Heat blossomed in Yeonjun’s chest as he kissed Beomgyu’s neck again. “I’ve wanted to do this for weeks,” he said, and then bit down.
The whine Beomgyu gave was delicious, sweet and airy against Yeonjun’s ear. He slumped downwards along the wall and Yeonjun had to help him keep his balance. He lapped at the spot he’d bit, smearing spit all over the sensitive skin, and pulled back to see a red mark in the shape of his teeth forming.
Beomgyu looked dazed, his eyes clouded over, and he nibbled on his lower lip. Yeonjun was momentarily stunned by how pretty he was, with his hair all messed up and his neck exposed, wearing a mark Yeonjun had made.
Fuck. He wanted more. There was no way he was going to stop now. He recalled all the times over the past couple of weeks where Beomgyu smirked at him, proud of himself for riling Yeonjun up. Now, seeing Beomgyu all pliant and flushed, Yeonjun was feeling equally as smug as Beomgyu had.
He tilted Beomgyu’s head further to the side by pulling him by his hair, so he could bite the sharp underside of his jaw, where his throat was the most sensitive. Beomgyu muffled his cry through his closed lips, his hands moving to grasp and tug at Yeonjun’s shirt.
This time, he tugged the skin backwards with his teeth before releasing him, and Beomgyu actually sobbed, fisting Yeonjun’s hair. Yeonjun was stunned at how reactive he was, and he exhaled slowly, trying to calm himself.
“Fuck,” Yeonjun swore against Beomgyu’s skin, letting his lips drag along the mark he’d left. “You’re so needy.”
Beomgyu sputtered, “It’s not like I do this a lot!”
“Oh, really? I couldn’t tell,” Yeonjun said sarcastically, just because he knew it would embarrass Beomgyu, who took the bait and curled further in on himself.
“You’re so mean,” Beomgyu whined, like he always did, making Yeonjun’s heart soar with how cute he sounded. “You animal.”
“If you’re still coherent enough to whine, I haven’t done my job right,” Yeonjun said, and Beomgyu gasped as Yeonjun continued downwards, moving to bite above his collarbones.
Needless to say, Yeonjun was very thorough that night.