Work Text:
Taesan watches Jaehyun from the other side of the bonfire.
From where he’s standing, Jaehyun is being swallowed whole, the flames twisting in red and orange and yellow, rippling over his bare arm and snaking up his neck. They dance over his skin, already sun-kissed and golden from the summer sun, and when he tips his head back to laugh, a bead of sweat drips lazily down the line of his throat, over the curve of his Adam's apple, dropping to the grass below his feet.
Taesan swallows, his stomach flipping, like everything he’s drunk that night is going to make its way back up. He can’t look away. Can’t stop staring at the damp path Jaehyun’s sweat has left, shiny and glimmering on his warm skin. He wants to press his lips there. He wants to drag his tongue over the track, slowly, barely, with teeth. He wants, desperately.
The fingers around his empty beer bottle tighten, knuckles whitening. It’s not his first. His second, maybe? Third? Whatever. Anything to douse the uncomfortable pulse of his heart, thrashing uncontrollably under his skin. He buzzes with a pleasant thrum, number now that there’s something other than need in his system.
Jaehyun catches his eyes through the blaze, flickers of light and ash in the dark of his eyes. He smiles, flames licking at his dimples, kissing all the angles of his face. Another spark ignites in the pit of Taesan’s stomach, hot, like he himself is fire. If only.
Jaehyun tips his own bottle toward Taesan in what is maybe a wave. An acknowledgement. It’s his first drink of the night, barely touched. Taesan knows because he’s been watching him ever since his car pulled onto the turnt-up grass everyone is using as a makeshift parking lot in the park the party is situated at. He’s the designated driver for the night, Taesan supposes. He never could say no to his friends, even at the expense of his own enjoyment.
His loose tank top dips low under his arms, along his ribs, riding up over his toned stomach every time he lifts the hem to fan his face with the fabric. Taesan watches as another bead of sweat disappears under the neckline. A shaky breath exhales through his lips.
Jaehyun shouldn’t be standing so close to the fire. Taesan shouldn’t notice these things. He shouldn’t feel a red-hot heat razing through his body, worse than the flames, worse than the sun. He shouldn’t be letting this consume him.
Jaehyun drags his eyes over Taesan hungrily, unflinching. Taesan feels it burn through him, carving its mark, devastating, a brand on his skin. He couldn’t move if he wanted to. He doesn’t want to. Jaehyun’s eyes flick back to Taesan’s, satisfied, and he smiles again, a flash of his white teeth, the final match to the pyre. He turns back to his friends, his laugh echoing around the park and landing sweetly in Taesan’s ears.
It’s not fair. Jaehyun doesn’t know what he’s doing to him. Maybe he does. That’s not fair, either.
“Taesan?” A voice calls, and suddenly there’s a palm in front of his face, waving, trying to grab his attention. “Earth to Taesan? Are you good?”
Taesan snaps back to attention as Leehan’s blurry face cuts into his line of sight. His trance is broken. His fingers slacken around his bottle. A few more seconds and he swears it would have shattered in his grasp.
“Yeah,” Taesan says, clearing his throat when there’s an audible waver in his voice. It’s just the alcohol. Right. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Leehan gives him a skeptical look. He glances between Taesan and Jaehyun, his brow set in something between amusement and concern. “Have you thought about, I don’t know, talking to him, maybe?” Leehan asks, eyes wide and smile understanding in a way that feigns his innocence.
He knows Taesan won’t do it. He is goading him anyway, playing on his weakness, his contentiousness. He says it like it’s easy. It’s not. It could be.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Taesan scoffs. How long is he going to pretend? How long is he going to lie to them, and himself? It’s only so long before these feelings eat him alive.
“Sure,” Leehan says, unconvinced. If anyone were to figure him out, it would be him. “I’m gonna find Riwoo and Sungho, okay? Come find us if you feel like it. Don’t get into trouble.”
His hand finds Taesan’s forearm and squeezes, a last act of comfort before he disappears into the crowd of people, drinking and laughing and letting themselves go, having fun. He should be doing the same, enjoying the freedom of soon-to-be summer break. He should forget this silly thing, find his friends, talk about anything else.
Instead, he turns back to Jaehyun.
His eyes skim over the bare skin of Jaehyun’s ribs, visible only in flashes, and he remembers what the rest of him looks like, too, over him, under him, pressed against him, the feel of his skin meeting Taesan’s. He sees the way Jaehyun’s fingers cradle the bottle in his hand and remembers what it’s like to be touched by him, to have Jaehyun’s fingers glide over his body, hold him, press against the tenderest parts of him.
He watches Jaehyun laugh, lips stretched in a smile, and remembers what it feels like to kiss him, to taste the sweetness of his tongue, to drown in it, to be at the mercy of his mouth as it helps him forget everything.
Most of all, he remembers how it is to be the one making Jaehyun laugh, making him smile, saying something stupid just to make him lose his breath like he does to Taesan. That, he thinks, brings him the most satisfaction. The most joy.
It’s a weird arrangement, this thing they’ve got going on. This barely-anything thing. Close enough to touch, but not close enough to speak on the feelings kindling between them. They have bared everything but their hearts to each other.
And whose fault is that? Jaehyun’s, for not pushing hard enough, or Taesan, for pushing in the wrong direction?
His body moves before his brain. Before he realises what he’s doing, he’s circling around the fire, weaving through people that don’t matter, pulling closer and closer to Jaehyun, to danger, to his doom.
Jaehyun watches him as he approaches, smiling like he’s been waiting-- no, expecting, Taesan to come.
“Hey,” Jaehyun calls out, and Taesan latches onto it like a moth to flame, letting it reel him in until he’s next to Jaehyun, the skin of his arm scorching where it barely brushes Jaehyun’s. Any closer and it will sear.
Talk to him. Make it easy.
Taesan opens his mouth. He tries to say something. Anything. His words extinguish on his tongue, turned to ash. Why is it so hard?
He presses closer to Jaehyun, ignoring the burn, grasping for his wrist and lips ghosting his ear in what he hopes looks like a friendly whisper to everyone else and not the desperate bid for attention that it is. “Need you,” he breathes hot against Jaehyun, only for him, nose brushing over his salt slicked skin and fingers pressing insistently to the indents of his wrist.
This is easy. This is the language he knows how to speak. This is what he’s used to. This is how they started and this is how they will end. Nothing more, nothing less. It would be useless to hope.
He feels Jaehyun’s sharp intake of breath more than he hears it. He feels his pulse jump under his fingertips. If he could believe it, he might think that he does to Jaehyun what Jaehyun does to him. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t possibly want him in the same way.
Jaehyun’s hand curls around his back, skimming over the soft curve of Taesan’s waist where no one can see. A promise. His hand drops, and he turns to friends. Maybe Taesan is imagining the impatient shake in his voice when Jaehyun says, “I’m just gonna drop Taesan home. Don’t drink too much-- I’m talking to you.” He laughs, and Taesan can feel it, reverberating through his bones straight to his core. Jaehyun jabs two fingers into his eyes and then towards his friends. “I’ll be back soon.”
Then he’s moving, and Taesan is moving with him, breath rattling around his chest, throat tight like it’s full of smoke. His skin simmers under his clothes. His fingers feel tender and raw where they’re still clinging to Jaehyun. They make their way to the parking lot, to Jaehyun’s car. Taesan didn’t plan this far ahead. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He doesn’t know what he wants to do. All he knows is that he wants Jaehyun, in any way he’ll give him, in any way he can have him. It would be greedy to wish for more.
He presses Jaehyun’s back into the metal door of his car, fumbling for the door handle with one hand and holding onto Jaehyun with the other. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to tell him not to leave. He finds the handle and yanks, but the door stays closed. Jaehyun grins up at him, alight with dangerous mischief.
There’s a click, then a clatter of metal against metal as Jaehyun unlocks his car from the keys he’s fished from the back pocket of his too tight jeans. Taesan would feel more embarrassed if he wasn’t so full of need. He tries the door again. It opens easily this time. He pushes Jaehyun inside and they tumble down onto the back seat.
Jaehyun pulls the door closed behind them as they fall. It’s barely shut by the time Taesan gets his lips on Jaehyun, reaching so desperately, so shakily, that he only gets the corner of Jaehyun’s lips on the first try, in the spot his dimple surfaces when he smiles. Jaehyun laughs against him, and there it is, the dimple. He readjusts, guiding Taesan back to him, dragging him into his downfall.
This is the familiar part. The part he’s used to. Jaehyun’s lips aren’t foreign to him, he has memorised every dip and curve of them, knows them like the back of his own hand, like a home. He has sought solace in them countless times now. Jaehyun’s fingers tangle in Taesan’s collar, dragging him closer, and Taesan’s hands slide over the gaps in Jaehyun’s shirt, gliding over skin. He knows this, too.
These feelings, too, are familiar. The pounding of his heart, the twisting in his stomach. The fear. He has been here before. Same situation. Different person. Before Jaehyun there was someone else, someone who had melted Taesan’s want into something softer, something unfamiliar and scary and far beyond what he had been expecting.
That time, he had been foolish enough to think it could go somewhere. His fragile feelings had been cast aside and his heart shattered into pieces. He had been used for his body and discarded at the earliest inconvenience when it got too real. He can’t let this get real.
But the way Jaehyun is holding him… maybe it’s not so useless to hope. So lovingly, fingers carding through his hair instead of pulling, lips pressing, softly, instead of harshly, it’s almost like-- almost like--
“You’re distracted,” Jaehyun says, drawing him from his mess of thoughts. His thumb rubs over the crease in Taesan’s brows, hand drifting to cradle his cheek. So lightly. With intent to care and not to bruise. Taesan tries not to chase it, lean into his touch, but he fails. Jaehyun’s palm is so inviting, so welcoming. “Something bothering you? Uncomfortable?”
Taesan breathes, trying to slow his racing heart. Is he uncomfortable? Yes. His knee is slipping off the seat and his neck is craned at an awkward angle. He’s too tall to fit in the back of the car like this. His back aches. Worse, the discomfort under his skin. The itching to leave. To stay. To talk. To shut him up. To make this harder for himself. The pain in his chest. The smoke in his lungs.
“No-- you--” Taesan starts, but he cuts himself off. How is supposed to tell Jaehyun that he’s making him uncomfortable by making him the most comfortable he’s ever been? For taking care of him more than anyone has ever cared for him in his life?
Jaehyun shifts, pushing himself up on his elbows. He smiles, gentle, more fuel for the flame, and his hands find Taesan’s hips, nudging him back. He switches their positions easily, guiding Taesan where he wants him, where he wants to be. Taesan lets him. He is at his softest in Jaehyun’s hands. Malleable. Jaehyun could remake him, shape him into anything he wanted, and Taesan would allow it.
He is under Jaehyun now, flat against the back seat, Jaehyun slotted between his legs. He hovers over him, arms bracketing his head, hair damp with sweat and hanging in his eyes. He’s a beautiful forest fire, an inferno. He’s destroying Taesan, uncontrollable, unstoppable.
He had loved before, his mistake. He should never have thought he could be loved back. Never again. He won’t. He can’t. His heart can’t break like that all over again.
If he can only be loved like this then that’s okay. He’ll be loved for his body and the momentary pleasure. He’ll allow himself only these fleeting moments, loved, but only temporarily. If Jaehyun is gentle, loving, then it’s only to get what he wants. To trick him. That must be it. That’s the only way it can be.
Why, then, is Jaehyun not kissing him harder now he has him where he wants him? Why are his hands not rougher? Why is he making this more difficult? How is he supposed to delude himself like this when Jaehyun looks at him like he holds the world in his eyes. Treats him like he’s special. Like he’s important.
This is supposed to stop him from thinking, to tell him that this is the only way that Jaehyun wants him. But, Jaehyun-- he--
“So pretty,” Jaehyun murmurs against Taesan’s jaw.
Then again, with emphasis, at the tenderest part of his throat, right against his pulse. Like he can speak it into Taesan’s bloodstream. It feels like a bite to the jugular, like he has suffered a wound and it’s been left gaping and raw. Jaehyun leans back, drinking him in, the sight of him, eyes moving languidly across Taesan’s face. The fire in his gaze has dwindled to something milder, a mellow candle flicker. Has he always looked at him like this? With such adoration? Taesan has felt less exposed with no clothes on.
“Jaehyun,” Taesan says. There’s nothing left to say. His breath catches as Jaehyun leans in to kiss his neck again. He can’t breathe. He’s forgotten how. All he knows is Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun. He can’t help but call his name, over and over.
“All mine,” Jaehyun whispers with certainty, as if he hasn’t done enough damage. Taesan’s heart lurches, longs, like it wants to leap out of his pathetic body and make a home in Jaehyun’s instead. It wouldn’t have to cover much distance. They’re so close. He would be safe there.
There’s no possessiveness in his voice. He says it soft and sure, plain and simple.
He’s right. There’s no world in which this is untrue. Taesan is his. Taesan would give him everything if it meant he could hear it again.
He could lay here forever and relish in the soft edges of this fantasy. He could let Jaehyun kiss him like he means it all night.
His eyes flutter shut and he lets the sweetness wash over him, savoring the feel of Jaehyun’s lips and his hands. He would normally hate being treated like he’s something fragile, but he feels so fragile right now. His heart is shoddily put back together, the glue weak, one crack and it’s over. But Jaehyun is filling the gaps with gold. Making him beautiful again.
This is love. He has fallen in a way he promised himself he never would again. He is completely and utterly enamoured. Perhaps he is weaker than he thought. Maybe it was inevitable. This is Jaehyun, after all. Sweet, sweet, Jaehyun. Who couldn’t love him? He makes it so easy.
Maybe Taesan is the cruel one to mess him around like this. Maybe Taesan is the one breaking Jaehyun’s heart. Had he even stopped to consider that? This whole time he thought he was the selfless one, but maybe he has been selfish all along.
Every time Taesan asked him to leave after they fucked, to spare his own feelings, so he didn’t have to face his fears, had Jaehyun wanted to stay? Would he have stayed if he asked him to?
He’s overthinking again. He should be enjoying this while it lasts. Make it last.
Taesan hooks his arms around Jaehyun’s neck, dragging him deeper, impossibly closer. “Jaehyun,” he whispers against his lips. He feels Jaehyun smile, pure delight at hearing his name from Taesan’s mouth. He knows that feeling. “Can we-- I mean-- I want-- You--” Taesan stutters. He can never make it clear. Say what he means.
What he wants to say is: Can we go home? I want you to stay with me. I want to talk to you all night. I never want you to leave.
Jaehyun misunderstands. He mistakes his want for his want. Maybe this is his own kindness. His own selflessness. He is giving Taesan exactly what he thinks he wants. Taesan thinks that Jaehyun would give him anything if he asked. He has never met someone so selfless.
They sink into another kiss.
But then Jaehyun’s phone buzzes in his back pocket, and they are ripped from their bliss.
Jaehyun pulls away, and he takes a part of Taesan with him, like he’s tearing away the skin from his flesh. There’s a searing pain everywhere Jaehyun was touching, hot and cold at the same time. He watches as Jaehyun slides the phone to his ear, mouthing a sorry to Taesan. He can hear a slurred, muffled voice on the other end. One of his friends got into trouble. They need Jaehyun’s help. He never could say no to them.
“It’s fine,” Taesan says. He unconsciously touches his fingers to his lips. They burn with absence. “It’s fine,” he repeats, more for himself this time. “You can go.”
“I’ll be back,” Jaehyun says, a promise he won’t keep because Taesan will be long gone by then. “I’ll just see if he’s okay.”
He kicks the car door open and a wave of smoke and sweat hits Taesan’s nose, straight to his throat, churning nausea into his stomach. Noise pours into what was their haven. This isn’t their world anymore. Jaehyun is still looking down at him, bright with something unnameable. Something Taesan knows too well. He leans down a final time. Lips press against Taesan’s temple. A gentle gunshot, straight to the head. One last wound. He is left shaking all over.
He doesn’t want him to go. He doesn’t want him to leave.
“Wait--” Taesan calls.
But Jaehyun is already gone, and there goes Taesan’s heart, too, burnt to ashes in the aftermath. The door closes and Taesan is left so cold in the middle of summer, with all this love that he doesn’t know what to do with because he’s never had a chance to use it. He is stupid to think that it might be different this time. Is there any use in hope? God, does he hope.
He shivers, pulling his clothes back into place. There’s an ache in his knees from the cramped space, and his neck is bent at an angle against the opposite door. It’s so easy to ignore these things with Jaehyun, to trick himself into thinking this is heaven.
He’s so aware of his own heartbeat, thumping against his ribs, chest tight and heaving with the effort to breathe. He can hear it, can feel everything. The miserable betrayal of his own heart.
He wishes Jaehyun had stayed.
But he’s gone, the fire continues to burn, and Taesan is terribly homesick.