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It’s Dongmin who initiates it.
Moka dumped Jaehyun a month ago and while he seemed to take it in stride, at the bar last week, when they were two rounds of somaek in and Dongmin let a tipsy Donghyun snuggle up to his side, Jaehyun said something that hasn’t left his mind ever since.
While the words Dude, I think my dick might start chafing soon along with a hand-motion that leaves little to the imagination aren’t exactly what Dongmin thought would spark a crush-like fascination within him, he has to admit that it, for some reason, makes sense. In that it doesn’t at all and he is definitely losing his mind.
In true INTJ-fashion, Dongmin has created a mental as well as an actual spreadsheet of all the things wrong with Jaehyun:
• unironically listens to old mgk
• he thinks he’s a Chandler when he’s actually a Joey
• he has garlic breath 90% of the time?
• that time he hooked up with Kim Sunoo even though everyone knew Dongmin liked him and it made everything weird and then Kim Sunoo went on that language exchange thing in Italy (booo) and while that technically isn’t entirely Jaehyun’s fault, this is Dongmin’s list and he can do as he pleases
• unironically listens to mgk’s NEW stuff which is infinitely worse than old mgk (SO MUCH WORSE MY GOD)
That having been said: Jaehyun post-Moka is a different person from Jaehyun pre-Moka.
Kind of. Vaguely. Perhaps.
Sure, he still openly talks about the inhumane amount of time he spends masturbating, and after lunch yesterday, Dongmin watched him burp in Sungho’s face with this shit-eating sideways grin. For a half a year, however, Dongmin, in absolute awe, watched Jaehyun turn from the exhausting cross-breed of twink and jock that he is, into possibly the loveliest, most dependable boyfriend a person could ask for.
Not that Dongmin does, per se.
He has zero interest in dating Myung Jaehyun. He doesn’t need someone carrying his backpack. He doesn’t long for someone to bring him breakfast muffins and iced green tea every morning. He doesn’t want a boyfriend. That’s not what this is about.
Not entirely, at least.
Part of him feels some misplaced anger at Moka, even though he doesn’t know her very well. They all dance at the same studio downtown, and Dongmin is friends with Youngeun, who is friends with Hikaru, who is friends with Moka.
Apparently she feels less passionate about Jaehyun than she anticipated, which is fine, understandable, and normal. They’re young and Love is a big word and that’s okay.
Dongmin just feels kind of bad for Jaehyun, he supposes. He really likes her. Liked her. Whatever.
He knows they haven’t slept together yet, which is what makes his statement from last week all the more ridiculous and, oddly enough, Jaehyun more approachable.
Dongmin is lying on his bed as he thinks about all of this, letting the cool air of his whirring fan wash over him. His room is uncharacteristically warm for spring. He’s listening to this indie playlist he found, the sound of easy, mellow electric bass filling his head with music and images of the sea.
And Jaehyun.
It’s weird, developing a crush (ish) on someone you’ve known for so long. Not that long, he corrects himself. They mainly used to have mutual friends and Dongmin knew of him solely because Jaehyun is loud and always, without fail, demands the attention of the entire room, but he’s pretty sure Jaehyun only found out his name when they were in that group chat for Sanghyeok’s birthday two years ago.
He’s seen Jaehyun throw up on himself after forgetting that strawberry-flavored soju isn’t juice. He heard Jaehyun on the phone, getting scolded by his mother for posting a picture where you could see his belly button ring, a gleam of silver on creamy-white January-skin. He was there for Jaehyun’s first kiss with Moka, when they were hanging out in the park, Dongmin’s head in Donghyun’s lap, cookie crumbs raining down on his face, watching the two of them throw around a frisbee.
Moka had almost fallen, having tripped over her own feet, and Jaehyun had caught her only just. It’d been like this moment from a drama, where the heroine gets swept off her feet by her love interest, all slow motion and cherry blossom petals, and he’d aimed for her cheek, cocky and annoying and perfectly romantic, when she turned her face and kissed him square on the mouth.
After they parted, Jaehyun had chased after her lips like they were water and he hadn’t had a drink in three days and Dongmin had closed his eyes, trying to enjoy the last breaths of early autumn.
The trees started shedding their leaves a week later.
He checks his phone. His chat with Jaehyun is still pulled up, his last message burning up at him from the screen. Jaehyun read it as soon as he sent it. It’s been about twenty minutes and he’s seen Jaehyun’s texting bubble appear and disappear at least fifty-seven times.
Dongmin is less shy than people make him out to be. Yes, he’s easily flustered if too many pairs of eyes are on him and he genuinely does not know how to flirt sober and/or in broad daylight without his head feeling seconds from exploding. All of that is true.
However.
/ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ: Re: Your Chafing Dick… i could help out w that :3c
Admittedly—it’s quite bad. Dongmin realizes this and accepts it and has moved on. He honestly just wants to get laid.
Texting bubble, no texting bubble.
A faster song comes on, still gentle but rhythmic. Sounds of the city seep in through the shut window and Dongmin wishes he weren’t so lazy, or else he’d get up and bathe in them for a moment, look out on the street and watch people, see them cross the road hurriedly, their hair flying in the wind of sundown.
Texting bubble, no texting bubble.
He rubs his stomach—he’s wearing one of Sanghyeok’s shirts, one he managed to save before his friend could sell it on Depop. It’s simple, a dusky blue, a mostly peeled-off cutout of L’amour et Psyché, enfants printed on his chest.
Since it used to be Sanghyeok’s, it’s pretty tight. Dongmin feels sexy wearing it, likes to look at himself in the mirror, watching it stretch around his upper body, riding up when he moves his arms around, decidedly too revealing to wear in public.
He wonders what Jaehyun would think about it. As if the universe was only waiting for him to pose this exact question, his phone buzzes.
Jaehyun: wtf haha 😅
Jaehyun: either u got the wrooong number or i was unfamiliar with your game
Dongmin is going to kill himself. He should’ve jerked off, had dinner and called it a day, not let his sex monkey brain make these possibly friend-group-dynamic altering decisions for him. Somehow this might be worse than drunk texting.
But—it’s not an outright rejection. Jaehyun might just be confused. He weighs his options for a second, before deciding to fuck it. If shit goes sideways, he’ll just have to avoid Jaehyun forever, which will be totally easy because Jaehyun totally doesn’t know everyone Dongmin knows, and because he totally doesn’t show up wherever Dongmin goes.
/ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ: hmm come over and find out
He feels like a cat, soft-pawed and purring, rolling the figurative ball into Jaehyun’s court. Only that Jaehyun—gross, big-mouthed, boyish—takes anything he likes into his wolfish snout, shaking it until it stops moving, leaving it drenched in his saliva and dented with markings of his canines.
Dongmin is willing to take that risk. Jaehyun’s reply comes within seconds.
Jaehyun: icb your booty calling me lol
Jaehyun: you’re*
Jaehyun: sorry got nervous
Dongmin feels a tingle of excitement crawling up his scalp. Is Jaehyun biting? He can’t tell yet. He waits for another message to arrive until he realizes that it’s to be assumed that so is Jaehyun.
/ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ: i wasnt joking
Jaehyun: OH
Texting bubble, no texting bubble.
Jaehyun: yea ok. give me 10
Dongmin’s heart almost leaps out of his chest. He takes a shaky breath. Okay… good. Right? Yes, this is what he wanted. He showered and he brushed his teeth and shaved the pathetic, patchy little stubble he gets his upper lip and—and he’s ready. Horny. Whatever. Jaehyun’s coming over.
He gets up and finally opens his window, only to quickly close it again. Feels too real. He needs this to happen somewhere else, in a room suspended from this reality, from where he’s Dongmin and Jaehyun’s Jaehyun, from where he’s timid and helpless and doesn’t hook up a lot because in order for this to be believable and, in turn, good, he can’t ruin it by being himself.
Jaehyun lives in the apartment block across from Dongmin’s, which is a recent development. Catching glimpses of a shirtless, wet-haired Jaehyun, brushing his teeth on the balcony while his roommate Kazuha has her morning cigarette definitely has nothing to do with the newfound flutter in Dongmin’s belly. Not at all.
He doesn’t squint to see if he can see make him out now, though. He checks out his reflection again, digging his toes into his fluffy carpet. His throat feels tight, itchy. His scalp prickles with anticipation.
Moka comes to mind. He just saw her earlier, at the studio. She looked fine, giggling with her friends and warming up before practice, and she didn’t pay him any attention even when Youngeun came over to greet him. Maybe he’s a little bitter. Maybe he just wants to fuck her ex-boyfriend.
He doubts it’ll go that far, though. He isn’t even sure he’d want to do that with Jaehyun. Who should be here any second. Dongmin’s phone doesn’t buzz again but he didn’t give a reply to the other’s last message, so he tries not to worry about it.
Because he still happens to be himself, an irritating habit he has yet to shake, his growing anxiety waters budding seeds of doubt. They take root uncomfortably and Dongmin feels nauseated. He worries he might have made a mistake. He doesn’t even know Jaehyun.
As kind a person as he may seem, looking past the occasional quip targeted at any of their friends, Dongmin has no idea whether or not Jaehyun is the type to make fun of him for this. What if he tells everyone? What if he lets Dongmin get him off and never speaks to him again? What if Jaehyun’s coming over to gently let him know that, despite drunkenly hitting on Kim Sunoo, resulting in a wild night of gay sex (source: Dongmin’s unfairly vivid imagination), he is actually not attracted to men at all?
That’d be nice of him, at least. Considerate. And highly unlikely. Jaehyun is the most pansexual guy Dongmin has ever had the misfortune of meeting.
What if he isn’t into Dongmin, though? Sure, he’s tall and he’s hot as long as he doesn’t smile, but Jaehyun might not be into him anyway. Dongmin’s beginning to feel extremely uncertain about his shirt. He can’t believe he thought he looked sexy like this, dressed in a tiny top and low-hanging basketball shorts, their elastic old and worn from withstanding countless choreographies.
His hips are narrow and you can see his happy trail, wiry fuzz on the low part of his stomach, a dark contrast to his pale skin. He’s more delicate than some guys he knows but—he’s still a guy. No way around it. But Jaehyun likes men. Jaehyun, quite frankly, would likely fuck a hole in the wall. And Dongmin is prettier than a hole in the wall—right?
“Calm the fuck down,” he tells his reflection. It kind of works.
The bell rings, mechanical and taunting. Dongmin runs a hand through his hair and it flops back down, soft and smelling of his favorite conditioner. Vanilla and seasalt cling to him like stubborn ivy.
He quietly makes his way through his tiny apartment. Jaehyun might hear his heartbeat from here. He wishes he had a doorbell camera, so that he could see Jaehyun standing downstairs, his stupid little face, his perpetually messy hair.
Dongmin buzzes him up and opens his front door. Closes it. Opens it again. He can hear the elevator humming, noises coming from his neighbors, sounds of television programs and muted mumblings filling the hallway. It’d feel clinical, all white walls and shiny floors, if it weren’t for the customized doormats and umbrellas lying around, one tenant having left out a pair of bright yellow rain boots.
A ping. The elevator stops and opens at the end of the hall. Dongmin surges back into his apartment and blinks, wiping his palms on his shorts. He should’ve put on socks. Feet are so entirely unerotic. Unless. No, they definitely are. He feels crazy.
Jaehyun’s wearing his squeaky sneakers—Dongmin’s heard them at practice a billion times, and he doesn’t get why Jaehyun doesn’t get shoes just for dancing instead of carrying his freaking dirt everywhere, but it’s nice to hear nonetheless. It offers familiarity, a reminder that this, indeed, is just his friend. He lets out a breath and takes half a step outside again.
There he is.
He’s dressed completely in black, body disappearing in a large hoodie. He blinks when he spots Dongmin and kind of stops walking for an instant, quickly crashing through his brief hesitation like a big wave breaking on the shore.
“I had to ask Woonhakie for your floor number,” is the first thing he tells Dongmin when they’re standing face to face, Jaehyun still quite a bit shorter despite his slightly plateaued footwear.
Dongmin frowns. “You called Woonhakie instead of just asking me? I could’ve told you.”
He walks backward and Jaehyun follows like they’re connected by a string in between their rib cages. Snorting, Jaehyun kicks off his shoes, promptly losing another centimeter or two. “No, what? He’s staying over, I literally just, like, looked at him and asked.”
“As in, he’s at your place right now?”
Jaehyun grins crookedly, pushing his sneakers into the vague direction of where Dongmin has placed his in a neat row.
Oh God. This is sorta bad. But also not, in a way. If Jaehyun is ready to ditch his favorite exhausting gremlin friend for Dongmin, that can only mean good things. Horny things.
It’s also a little bit disturbing.
“What did you tell him?” Dongmin asks, wrapping his arms around his body, covering up as much of his naked skin as he can. There’s gooseflesh on his arms, the sticky warmth of his room long gone.
He catches Jaehyun’s eyes following the movement, dragging up and down his body slowly, languidly. When their eyes meet, he smirks. Dongmin’s face feels hot.
“Just said you wanted something from me and that I’d be back.” He shrugs, scanning Dongmin’s apartment for a second. “Guess you could say I told him the truth.”
Because Dongmin does want something from Jaehyun. Because Jaehyun is here to give him what he asked for. It’s dizzying, the knowledge that this worked so easily, that all it took for Jaehyun to drop everything was Dongmin shooting him a text referencing his dick. Actually, maybe Jaehyun’s just the one who’s easy here.
Dongmin tilts his head to the side. “If I remember correctly, I offered to help you out.” He makes a face as if to say hate to break it to you and Jaehyun scoffs, working his jaw.
Does this constitute flirting? Dongmin can’t be sure. He isn’t drunk and they’re at the cusp of dawn, meaning it’s not yet dark enough for him to pretend he’s someone who this comes naturally to.
Jaehyun moves closer. Looks at him through his lashes, something so aggravatingly effortless about it. Dongmin can smell his day on him, worn-off cologne, the warm scent of a comfortable afternoon.
“What?” asks Dongmin, aiming for teasing but sounding scared, breathy, the syllable breaking off into a voicecrack.
“You tell me. You were the one who told me to come over and find out.” Jaehyun’s voice is saccharine, unquavering. He’s so annoying. “I’m here.”
He is. Curious, appearing willing to test out the waters Dongmin so confidently invited him into.
They should talk. Or drink something—anything to give Dongmin time to prepare, now that Jaehyun’s actually here, standing in front of him like this, normal and yet terrifying, never shaking off his overwhelming, booming aura.
“Do you want a beer?”
“Not particularly, no. Do you?”
Dongmin shakes his head. He can do this. He pretends to stretch, tries to make it look organic, slightly lifts up his arms and twists his torso in a way he hopes looks somewhat seductive.
Jaehyun giggles. Okay then.
“How come you texted me that?” He reaches out to poke Dongmin’s belly, his index finger lingering for only a second before he lets his hand drop back to his side.
How come indeed. Dongmin shrugs, letting the soft tone of Jaehyun’s voice trickle down his spine.
“I thought maybe you’d be interested, now that you’re—you know.” Acknowledging Moka’s existence in this situation feels dangerous. He doesn’t want to upset Jaehyun. The spot where he touched Dongmin feels tingly, as though his blunt nail might’ve left a pink crescent moon in his taut skin.
“What? Celibate?”
Before he can stop himself, Dongmin rolls his eyes so hard it hurts, giving Jaehyun an accusatory look. “Oh, please. You and Moka never even did it.”
A beat. Jaehyun’s smile is disbelieving, doesn’t fully reach his inquisitive eyes. “And how would you, of all people, know that? You kept tabs on our relationship? Were you that jealous?”
“I wasn’t—what?” Dongmin flushes angrily, barely taking note of how Jaehyun smirks at him. “I wasn’t keeping tabs on you and I wasn’t jealous, I just—I just know. Youngeun told me.”
“Who the fuck is Youngeun?”
Dongmin’s lungs feel like they’re expanding, like he can’t get enough air to satisfy. He can’t believe this. He doesn’t even know what’s happening, only that he’s genuinely getting irritated—Jaehyun’s smug expression, so dismissive and patronizing, like he isn’t believing a word coming from Dongmin’s mouth.
“She’s my friend. She dances with Moka-san. You know her.”
Jaehyun ahhs but Dongmin can tell he’s mocking him.
“I don’t. And either way, I’m pretty sure I’d know better, don’t you think? That I’d know whether or not I had sex with my girlfriend of six months?”
The condescension colors the air around them purple. Dongmin’s chest is heaving and he is so angry that he can barely form words anymore. He hates feeling misunderstood, especially like this, when he’s being treated like he’s stupid or a liar.
He knew he shouldn’t have brought up Moka, shouldn’t have done any of this, shouldn’t have tried to act audaciously toward Jaehyun, shouldn’t have tried to make a point about something he, in all honesty, has no clue about.
Jaehyun pokes his belly again, lower this time. Their eyes meet and his are unafraid.
“Once. Right before she broke up with me.”
He laughs, sheepish for the first time since he arrived. Dongmin blinks. Jaehyun’s finger moves around him, applying the lightest bit of pressure to his lower part of his waist, but it’s enough to get Dongmin to arch his spine, stuttering forward with widened eyes.
Oh. Okay.
“Heol. She ended it ’cause you’re bad in bed.”
“Alright, shut the fuck up,” Jaehyun mumbles, faintly and unconcentrated, pulling their bodies together, eyes fixed on Dongmin’s lips. “I thought you were gonna help me out.”
“Weren’t you mad at me, like, four seconds ago—”
After letting out a long, dragged-out groan of sheer annoyance, Jaehyun kisses him to cut him off. Short, clumsy, bruising. They part and there’s a please in how he looks at Dongmin, and even though Dongmin doesn’t know what it is he wants, if it’s just for him to be quiet and kiss him, or for something more, he takes Jaehyun’s face in his hands and offers what he has.
It’s cold and quiet, safe for the sound of their lips sliding together. Kissing sober is different—more challenging in a way, since you’re so aware of yourself and the person you’re kissing. Jaehyun’s tongue tastes kind of spicy, like he had ramyeon not too long ago. His chest is firm, his build broader than expected, and his hands spread widely over Dongmin’s rib cage, sneaking up his shirt, nothing tentative about how they explore.
His hair is soft and shiny. He makes small noises when Dongmin gently tugs on his earlobe, or uses two fingers to lift up his jaw, angling it for better access. He doesn’t take the lead, like he’s shy to mess it up, uses little tongue but sighs when Dongmin licks into his mouth, opening up wider, lashes fluttering.
He also really isn’t good at this. It feels nice anyway.
“You wanna go to my room?” Dongmin asks, panting hotly against Jaehyun’s neck, feeling an enthusiastic nod above him. Jaehyun’s pulse goes fast against his lips. Dongmin carefully bites down, only slightly, dotting the i of their implied agreement.
They struggle at kissing and walking at the same time but, luckily, the way isn’t long. Dongmin pushes shut the door of his room quietly with his back to it, watching Jaehyun sit down on the edge of his bed, eyes darting around the space for a moment.
His mouth pulls up into a grin at the sight of Dongmin’s post-ironic Songs about Jane poster.
“I like your room. It’s, like, cozy.”
Dongmin snorts and walks over to him, climbing into his lap. Jaehyun lets him, resting his hands on Dongmin’s upper thighs caging him.
“I know my room is small. My whole apartment is small. You can say it, I’m well-aware of it.”
“Okay. Your place is a hole.” He chuckles when Dongmin leans in for his neck once more, pressing his nose into his pulse point impatiently. “A nice hole. Very neat. It also smells very good, you’re very clean for a—oh—”
His ears are sensitive. He seems to enjoy Dongmin’s teeth dragging along them, a light suck enough to make him tense up, dig his fingers into the flesh of Dongmin’s thighs, snaked underneath the fabric of his shorts much like with his shirt, skin to skin to skin.
Dongmin grinds down his hips experimentally. He isn’t hard just yet but he can’t tell for Jaehyun, as the layers he’s wearing are too thick. “You can touch me more,” he lets him know because he feels like he should. “Wherever.”
Jaehyun’s nods and suddenly lets himself fall on his back, pulling Dongmin on top of him fully. Dongmin’s knees dig into his cheap mattress and he feels more than he hears Jaehyun’s giggles, kneading into his ass, his palms hot through the thin polyester.
“Why are you laughing?” Dongmin asks, feeling it bubble up in his own chest now, too. Jaehyun’s hands on him are good, pleasant. He massages his ass like someone who’s only seen it be done in movies would. Dongmin doesn’t mind.
“I don’t know,” Jaehyun whispers through his laughter. “This is so surreal. You’re so hot and I really like your teeth, and I really thought you hated me. This is like the best sex dream ever.”
Dongmin stills. He blinks, accidentally letting his full weight rest on Jaehyun’s groin, earning a grunt in response. “Shit, sorry,” he says, rolling off of him.
“Don’t go…” Jaehyun says lamely. He pouts when Dongmin lies down on his stomach next to him anyway.
“I never hated you.”
To his own surprise, it doesn’t sound the least bit believable. Jaehyun seems to think so, too, because he immediately and loudly snorts, nose scrunching as he laughs. He shifts on his side, raising his hand. He takes his index and middle finger and moves them in such a way over Dongmin’s arm that it looks like a little man walking.
The hairs on his skin stand up and he catches Jaehyun smile softly.
“You definitely didn’t like me for a long while.” He doesn’t seem to feel upset about that, states it merely as fact. Dongmin frowns, his own hand finding Jaehyun’s forehead, flicking against it.
“You slept with Sunoo-hyung and then he left for Italy. I really liked him.”
Jaehyun’s mouth opens and closes. “You never even spoke to him.” This time, there’s an accusation hiding in his words. Maybe not hiding. Maybe Jaehyun doesn’t hide stuff the way Dongmin does.
It’s only partially true. Sunoo was a friend of Sanghyeok mainly, though he got along well with all of their messily jumbled-together friend group. Dongmin talked to him often enough, through the haze of end-of-day beers, or hurriedly in their college’s cafeteria, asking where Donghyun was or if they’d save each other a seat.
Enough to warrant a crush, he feels. Infatuation has always come easy to him, anyway. Just look at him now, in bed with a boy who tastes of food and doesn’t know how to kiss like a grown-up.
“He didn’t move to Italy because of me, you know. Also, I might’ve tried to kiss him, if I remember correctly, but he just wanted to take me home. I was so drunk, I threw up in his car and again in the hallway in front of my old apartment. If that helps.”
Dongmin presses his lips together and Jaehyun chuckles wryly, nodding at nothing in particular.
“It does help,” Dongmin says, wrapping a hand around Jaehyun’s wrist, still fondling his gooseflesh. He laces their fingers together and hopes.
“I’m glad.”
“Is that why you moved in across the street? You got kicked out for vomming on the floor?” Before Jaehyun can retort anything, he adds, “You throw up a lot, by the way. Should I worry about you?”
Jaehyun crawls close enough to kiss him again. Slower this time, thoughtful, thumb stroking over Dongmin’s knuckles in a soothing motion. Dongmin’s eyes open for a second, just to look at him, and it feels awkward to kiss this way, but it feels awkward to kiss Jaehyun anyway, so it’s okay.
He shuts them again and breathes in.