appetite for destruction ; part iii
The world moves in a blurry mess of lights and weird reflections of spotlights on flying drops of sweat, and details drown Jondgae's mind, invading his synapses one after another. The never-stopping shots of adrenaline make Jongdae's heart swell up, and the only thing the latter can really think is, how glorious would it be if he just blew up on stage in a powerful firework of pure energy. He is so eager, eager for more screams, more energy and more music, and he feels so grateful, because he knows that they will all reach the climax together. He feels the tiredness already creeping backstage, a few meters away from him, but for now, Jongdae is immunized. Reality doesn't exist, and the world stops at the walls of the Japanese dome. His dream is in his rawest form, and Jongdae is drunk on life.
“We are EXO!”
His voice disappears under screams and ovations, and it feels so good to have all those eyes turned towards him. Jongade has learned how to be a good frontman through the multiple gigs that brought the five of them here, he knows that he doesn't belong to himself anymore when he's on stage, and that he's just an instrument of the excitation that pours from the audience, and he, once again, willingly gives himself in to playful attitudes and cheeky smiles. One day, he won't be able to sing on stage anymore, one day, Kim Jongdae will forget how it feels to have his name chanted by hundreds of people, but inside all of those minds, he'll forever be EXO's singer. Jongdae's fingers are skimming immortality's hand.
He jumps on one of the flycases in front of the stage and brings the microphone back to his lips. He likes that part of the show, because he can take in so many fans' faces. They're shining with sweat, he notices, just like he is.
“On the drums...,” he announces with a playful smirk, and the crowd goes wild. Behind him, Jongin improvises a short solo on his drums, one of his beautiful smile probably eating half of his face. “A man with whom I take a lot of showers...” Jongdae pauses, just for the show. “Naked.” The audience goes wild (of course they do) and Jongdae laughs before pointing his finger at Jongin. “Kim Jongin!”
Jongin stands up and raises both of his arms above his head before bending in a graceful low bow, his laughter still shining in his eyes. He throws a kiss at Jongdae, who pretends to catch it before sighing lovingly. So many people are now laughing with one voice, as if they were cells from the same body, and the harmony is perfect.
“Okay, okay,” Jongdae now sits on the flycase, his legs dangling less than two meters away from the first row. He uses his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, and goes deaf for a while as high-pitched screams explode a couple of steps before him. Jongdae adjusts his sleveless top, pretending to be shocked by the eyes he still feels burning the skin of his belly.
“On the bass,” Jongdae keeps going. “A man who masters the art of strip dancing like you have no idea... Huang Zitao!”
Jongdae laughs as Tao bites his lip, and does that weird -but damn so sexy- body wave that makes the air they're breathing even hotter. Baekhyun's outraged face flashes in the back of Jongdae's mind, and for a second, Jongdae pictures him running to hide Tao with his body as a shield -like someone as tiny than Baekhyun could hide someone as tall as Tao- as if Baekhyun was really there.
“Look at you, you're gross,” Sehun laughs at Tao, his hand on his own microphone, and Jongdae sincerely smiles when he sees Tao's eyes shooting daggers at EXO's maknae.
Jongdae's eyes inevitably meet Sehun's when he stands up and turns around, and the contact is brief and short, but not enough for Jongdae to not have the impression that Sehun knew what he was thinking about just then. The guitarist is now back at ignoring him, but Jongdae still sees the tension in his body. He knows the way Sehun's muscles react, but knowing it doesn't keep him from being sucked up by Sehun's magnetism. Jongdae's throat feels dry, and more than ever during the last two days, he wishes he could find the courage to let himself go instead of struggling to leave Sehun's orbit. Jongdae still didn't apologize for what happened in that bar, because all the nicely phrased excuses he came up with instantaneously disappear in Sehun's presence, like he's some kind of back hole. It does make sense in a way, since Jongdae found himself fading away in the empty space left by Sehun the last few days more often than not.
A few piercing notes coming from Chanyeol's guitar bring Jongdae back to reality. The singer walks towards him and stands on tip-toe to be able to throw his arm around his friend's shoulders. Chanyeol lets go of his guitar -still held against his abdomen by the bright blue strap- and wraps his arm around Jongdae's hips to help him.
“And now, our solo guitar prodigy... Park Chanyeol the Magnificent!”
The crowd goes even wilder than they did with Jongin and Tao, because Chanyeol is a little bit different. He's one of the founder members of EXO, and he's probably the closest to the fans. One day, Chanyeol even shook off the bodyguards after a show and went drinking a few beers with some fans that were still on the streets. Of course, they'd love him to death after that, and to be honest, Chanyeol is probably everyone's favorite, but Jongdae is more than okay with it. Chanyeol is the heart of the band, after all.
“I've been singing harmonies with Chanyeol since we were in diapers, and he was already taller than everyone.” Chanyeol waves at the crowd with a big grin eating up his face, and Jongdae looks up at him, smiling. He ruffles fondly his hair and kisses his cheek. “I love you, you dumb giant.”
The audience can't stop screaming now, and Jongdae knows that he took them in that magical place where beautiful memories are built. He can feel it, when a show is a good one, and today is. Sometimes, there's a slight gap between the stage and the crowd, as if the fans were seeing them throught a lagging computer screen, and the frustration is so hard on Jongdae after those shows that he often ends up drained and empty on his hotel room floor, drunk and confused, feeling more useless than ever. Tonight, he'll probably be able to drag his aching body to bed without collapsing on the carpeting.
“Next, on the rythmic guitar, the one you've all been waiting for...”
Sehun stands firm and solid, as usual, when the fans scream at the top of their lungs. It's mostly girls who are now shooting their heads off, but Jongdae can see some guys too. He's not surprised though, it's another trick by Sehun The Walking Magnetism, and to be perfectly honest, Jongdae would probably be shouting at the top of his voice as well if he was amongst the fans. He stops near Sehun and once again, their eyes meet. Sehun's eye liner smudged a little because of the thin layer of sweat that makes his skin glistening, but his hair is still perfectly styled. Jongdae watched him spreading the gel on it before the show, shielded from getting caught by the hustle and bustle reigning in the dressing room. Sehun's fingers are one of the things Jongdae like the most about Sehun. They're long and bony, and so pale that Jongdae could make out the veins on them even with the rose-colored light of dawn as the only light in the room.
As Jongdae gets lost in Sehun's dark eyes, he remembers how Sehun was always insistent on maping Jongdae's palm with his fingertips, he remembers the curves of Sehun's fingers as they were curling around Jongdae's hands, how they used to slide along Jongdae's neckline despite Jongdae's pleadings for marks and biting. He remembers how they held him pressed against Sehun's chest when they were finally done with their battle for dominance. Sehun never let him go, his fingers never left Jongdae's body, and Jongdae wants them back more than anything. He wants Sehun back, he wants the sleepless nights and the guitar playing, the muffled laughs in the silence of the hotel, he wants Sehun to keep him warm when he finally falls asleep, and if Jongdae can't make it to the bed because he's still standing on the edge and sometimes, he just falls, he wants Sehun to lie on the ground with him and holds his hand, and be as firm and solid as he has always been.
“Our talented maknae, Oh Sehun!” Chanyeol finishes and the loud cheering tears Jongdae away from his daydreaming.
Sehun doesn't look at him anymore, because he's waving at the audience, at least, that's what anyone would think, but Jongdae doesn't miss the perpetual glances. A bit confused, the singer turns toward Chanyeol who glares at him, and that's when Jongdae realises. He blacked out. He feels like he jumped out off a moving train, on which he's now trying to get back despite the fact that the train is now nothing more than a black spot on the horizon. He tries to hide his confusion from the crowd by walking to the back of the stage. He grabs one of the water bottles placed on the platform that supports Jongin's drums and gulps down almost half of the water in one go. Jongin is looking at him with a barely contained smile on his face, and when Jongdae throws a questioning glance at him, the drummer just shakes his head, still smiling.
“You're so screwed, hyung.”
Jongdae is about to ask what the hell Jongin is talking about as he puts the cap back on the bottle, but Chanyeol's loud voice rings out behind his back as he announces their next song.
“Metal!”
Jongin smiles at Jongdae one last time before noding towards Chanyeol, and Jongdae turns back to Chanyeol as the music fills his earphones. Chanyeol happens to be looking at him already, and Jongdae gulps when he easily reads the anger written all over his best friend's face.
Fuck, he thinks. I'm screwed.
“It wasn't what you think, I mean... I blacked out, but it wasn't because...”
Chanyeol shushes him with an annoyed hand gesture, but he should know better: the only thing that can shut Jongdae up is a piece of tape directly across his mouth. That, or the surprise when a piece of paper is being litteraly shoved in his face. Jongdae catches it before Chanyeol forces it down his throat and looks down to it, bewildered.
“What the fuck--”
“You couldn't even say his name, Jongdae.” Jongdae lifts his head, and his confusion turns into playful comments he has to fight himself to not let out when he meets Chanyeol's serious expression.
“I've been trying, Yeol. I really have. I just need a little time, okay?”
In the last couple of days, Chanyeol has grew moodier with every failed attempt of Jongdae to talk to Sehun, as if Jongdae was doing it on purpose. The talk they finally had about Baekhyun two days ago didn't change Jongdae's opinions on relationships -them being the friendship kind, or more. It's not like everything has been resolved, it's not like Jongdae is now cleaned of years spent fearing being left behind, because there's still a lot left to say. Baekhyun is just a piece of the whole puzzle that are Jongdae's insecurities, and if Chanyeol could stop with the long faces, maybe it'll help him to try and sort it all out.
“Just... Give me more time.” Jongdae adds. Chanyeol softens before drying his face with the wet towel he still has around his neck. A couple of feet away, Jongin, Tao and Sehun are celebrating the show that just ended, all of them as sweaty as Jongdae and Chanyeol are, but way more excited. It was a great gig, after all, but the way Chanyeol's large eyes dig into Jongdae's ruins the excitation. Jongdae really hates how Chanyeol's gaze seems to unlock doors in his mind, doors Jongdae never wanted to think about again.
“You've been walking on that line for too long, Jongdae, and if you keep acting like you're a fucking acrobat, you'll end up falling. What if you land on the wrong side, uh? What if you just wake up one day, and it's too late?”
Jongdae frowns, still holding the piece of paper. A part of him wants to laugh at Chanyeol, because he's talking nonsense, and because his dark face makes him look like it's some kind of red code situation, when it's really not. Jongdae is just going through a difficult time; sure he's tired, and sometimes, he's so tired that he feels like a living dead unable to reach his own bed, but Chanyeol makes it look worse than it is. They're all tired.
Another part of Jongdae, though, is ready to admit that it's not normal. That Jongdae shouldn't collapse like he sometimes does, and that Junmyeon shouldn't have to carry him to bed. It's a discreet voice in his head, but it's still there, and it keeps saying that Jongdae has gone as far as he could on his own, and that it's now time to accept other people's help. Jongdae can't accept that, not when everyone he will end up leaning on will probably leave him in the end. It's easier to be where he stands right now, less scarier than imagining Sehun witnessing his weak moments.
Chanyeol watches him expectantly, but Jongdae keeps his mouth shut. It was a bad idea all along, anyway. He will talk to Sehun and apologize, like he had first planned to, but there's no way he'll take that thing they had farther away.
“I don't know what you're talking about, Chanyeol.”
Chanyeol's face darkens a little more, but he doesn't say anything -for now- and just points at the paper in Jongdae's hand.
“It's Baekhyun's number. Call him tonight, please. There are two sides for the same story, Jongdae, and your view isn't always the right one.”
Just like that, Chanyeol walks away, and Jongdae is left mortified and frozen in the middle of dozens of technicians in a rush. It was such a good show.
Jongdae's vision is filled with black smoke, and it burns his lungs in the most poisonous way. He feels like there's something growing on his insides, some kind of bacterium that mistakes his body for a Petri dish, and soon he'll be rotting from the inside out. He can picture the headlines so well: “Rockstar found dead in his hotel room. Cause of death unknown.” Maybe that's what Chanyeol meant when he talked about landing on the wrong side. Maybe Jongdae really did fall, and now he's being eaten up by so many things that he can't even dissociate them anymore. One of them is definitely the paper in front of him though, and there's probably the cigarette that burns in the tiny ashtray next to him as well.
He really wanted to burn the paper, but feelings were faster than Jongdae, and they swooped upon him without offering him a chance to escape. Curiosity is the worst because it involves a lot of things, like the fact that Jongdae still deeply cares about Baekhyun and truly wants to know if his ex-best friend is happy. Curiosity doesn't come alone though, this time it's holding hands with jealousy, and that's jealousy's burn that Jongdae is trying to cover with thick layers of smoke. He knows that pain, he found himself forced to get used to it when Baekhyun and Chanyeol started to date, and since that day, it never really left him.
Several weeks after Baekhyun's poor excuse of a goodbye, Chanyeol asked the whole band to come in the living room of the appartment they still share despite full bank accounts, and when all of their butts were on the couches, Chanyeol started one of his famous speech. Except that that one was a different kind of speech since it was a motivation they had never needed until then. “No one is going to leave that band unless they're in a coffin, am I clear?” Jongdae clearly remembers those specific words, because they turned into some kind of mantra for him as soon as Chanyeol said them. For a while, it remained the only thing that could persuade Jongdae that his whole world wasn't crumbling away, that it was just one of its pillars and that he would make it through. But there's something else that he remembers as well: Tao and Jongin's faces. Both of them were calm and quiet, nodding imperceptibly to Chanyeol's words. It had been crystal clear to Jongdae, in that moment, that Tao and Jongin were talking to Baekhyun again. So Jongdae waited for days for a phone call he never got, before ending up accepting the painful burn of jealousy once again.
And now, he knows that Tao and Jongin aren't the only ones. Once again, Jongdae is the last one, once again he founds himself left behind.
Yes, curiosity is lurking around him, but jealousy is already on his knees, urging him to grab his phone and call that fucking number, so he can finally know too. Know everything they know and that he doesn't.
Jongdae reaches to take his phone and the paper on the mattress before him, and just when he's about to dial in the numbers, his room's door opens and Sehun comes in. Jongdae watches him with wide eyes, and Sehun shrugs, as if he wasn't sure himself why he came.
“I heard Chanyeol asking you to call Baekhyun-hyung.”
Jongdae eyes him across the room. Sehun is obviously nervous, but he strands straight. Solid and firm. If Sehun heard Chanyeol, Tao and Jongin probably did too, but Sehun is the only one who came. The tensions inside Jongdae's body increases painfully, and he knows that if he keeps fighting it, he'll end up being sick. He supposes letting go just for now won't do him any bad since he definitely needs some support to call Baekhyun, and because he's afraid that asking Sehun to leave when he wants him to stay so bad will tear his body apart.
Jongdae pats the mattress in front of his crossed legs, and Sehun walks closer before sitting at the very end of the bed. Jongdae is back at staring at his phone screen, so he doesn't notice Sehun putting the cigarette out.
“Do you call Baekhyun sometimes?” Jongdae asks and Sehun nods. Simple as that. He doesn't even try to hide it, and Jongdae has the feeling that if he had asked him it before, Sehun would have come up with the same answer. “Do-Do you know if he thought about calling me once?”
Sehun shakes his head, his eyes fondly watching Jongdae contrasting with his closed face. Sehun is the embodiment of the saying 'the eyes are the window to the soul' and Jongdae only reads love and caring in Sehun's. Something is close to the breaking point inside of him, and he flinches.
“I'm sorry, you know, for-”
“--I know.” Jongdae licks his lips and Sehun gives him a faint smile. “Call.”
Jongdae breathes in and nods, before looking down to his phone once again. He checks the number one last time and brings his cellphone to his ear. His fingers are shaking and his mouth is so dry that breathing is starting to be painful, but Sehun's eyes are covering him with fond and warm glances, -black holes that Jongdae has never found more reassuring- and he lets himself be sucked up by Sehun's aura.
“Hello?”
The voice is cheery, bright. It's an injection of pure sunshine, even through the phone, and Jongdae is suddenly remembered how dark and gloomy days simply didn't exist with Baekhyun's around. He opens his mouth, but his brain never sends the signal to his tongue, and Jongdae is left tongue-tied as he pictures Baekhyun frowning at his phone.
“Uh... Hello? Who's calling?”
Sehun nods at Jongdae encouragingly, his way of unblocking Jongdae's thoughts, but they're not what they should be. It's a plethora of please take the phone away from me, please make it stop I don't want to listen to him, it hurts too fucking much, oh god he sounds exactly like he used to. Jongdae faintly wonders if Baekhyun hears his heart turning to lead in his chest.
“I can hear you breathe, you know.” Baekhyun ads, his smile perfectly audible in his voice. “Can I help you with something?”
Sehun's eyes leave Jongdae's, and the latter wishes they didn't. He waits for them to come back, but they're trailing something down his cheek, and it's only when the salty taste blooms on the corner of his lips that Jongdae understands. He's crying. He brings a hand to his mouth to muffle the strangled sobs now rushing in the back of his throat.
“Jongdae?” Baekhyun's voice is uncertain, and Jongdae bites his lips to deaden his breathing. “Jongdae, is that you?”
Jongdae furiously shakes his head because he doesn't trust himself to speak, and he doesn't want to talk to Baekhyun anyway. There's ice on his fingers and he can't make a single move. It's worse than being stuck in one of his nightmares, worse than being left behind, worse than collapsing on the ground because he feels so empty that he forgot for a second he was actually alive. He still had the possibility that Baekhyun was missing him, back then, that Baekhyun was miserable and regretful, but now it's gone. Baekhyun sounds like Baekhyun, happy and cheerful, and Jongdae feels his world crumbling away for the second time.
Sehun gets on his hands and knees and reaches for Jongdae's phone, his eyes glued to Jongdae's, solid and firm. He hangs up and put the phone aside before sitting on his knees in front of Jongdae's crossed legs. The silence Baekhyun's voice left turns into desperate sobs Jongdae doesn't even realize are his.
“It's okay,” Sehun says, but it's not. How could it be?
“He sounds exactly the same,” Jongdae wails, and he understands that he has reached his breaking point. He's drowning in the same waters he's dammed up deep inside all this time, and starts panicking when he breathes in oxygen that never gets to his lungs. “How could he sound the same? He left us!”
Sehun pulls him into a hug and keeps him pressed against his chest, but even his solidity can't get Jongdae out of the water. He grabs onto him, hopeless, as he begins to hyperventilate, and vaguely wonders if the wrong side Chanyeol talked about was actually a bottomless ocean, because it sure feels like it is. Everything he feels is just plain pain, pain in its purest form, pain and despair. Sehun's fingers are fondly ruffling his hair before they dig a little deeper and hold Jongdae's face pressed in his neck. They skirt one of his ears and slide along his neckline as Sehun's calm, but strong heartbeat makes its way through thick layers of black smoke and insecurities to infiltrate Jongdae's cardiac muscles. Soon enough, Jongdae can only breathe oxygen through all the multiple places where Sehun is now touching him. Fingers in his hair, a lungful of fresh air. Chest against chest, deep inhalation of oxygen. There a litany of it's okay hyung it's alright jongdae jongdae hyung it's okay that's obliterating the buzzing in Jongdae ears, and a strong flower scent -Sehun's shampoo- dispersing the smell of the abyss Jongdae was drowning in.
“Sehun,” Jongdae begs, not quite sure what he's asking for, but knowing that Sehun will find it anyway. There's hot skin against his palms, and it takes a while for Jongdae to realize that his hands are deep under Sehun's shirt. It all seems so clear now-- so clear that it's almost blinding to Jongdae even through his closed eyelids.
“I'm here,” Sehun reassures him. Jongdae feels the younger's vocal cords vibrate against his temple, and the rush of air in his lungs leaves him dizzy. The silence is deafening but neither of them pay attention to it: their hearts are beating right against each other and it's like music to their ears. “I'm here,” Sehun repeats in a barely audible whisper. The very sense of those few words is long gone when they both register them, but Sehun's fingers down the column of Jongdae's neck are still there to display it.
There's no violent aching, no burning need, no urge to be broken down into thousands of pieces, just the feeling that it can't be avoided anymore, when Jongdae's hands tug Sehun's shirt upward over his head. The world seems to slow down, or maybe it's their hearts that are speeding up, but the gap quickly disapears from their minds. The world now stops at Sehun's slender silhouette, frontiers written all over his mily skin and atmosphere filling Jongdae's lungs. Sehun's fingers keep sliding down his body, smoothing Jongdae's ridges through his shirt, only slowing down when they reach his hips. Sehun's eyes are heavy and hypnotizing, but Jongdae understands them better than anyone else, and he raises both his arms above his head. Soon enough, his shirt meets Sehun's at the bottom of the bed.
They're already too caught up in the longing to register the ashtray falling off the bed when Sehun lays Jongdae down on his back, too caught up in the distance reducing, inches by inches, between their lips. Their bodies' heat radiates all around them, but it still feels too cold for Jongdae so he locks his arms around Sehun's neck to pull him down, closer closer. His satisfied moan drowns in Sehun's mouth, and when their tongues meet for the first of a hundred times tonight, something snaps inside them, setting fire to the lethargy they were sharing until then, and turning it into desire and lust. Sehun's whimper runs down Jongdae's throat when their crotches slide together and one of his hands immediately looks for Jongdae's thighs. His fingers dig in the flesh through the material and force Jongdae to hook his legs over the small of his back.
Breathing becomes an option, something they can't afford anymore in the growing tension of their lower abdomens as they slide against each other languidly. Sehun's mouth is devastating, reducing Jongdae into a never-ending shudder, and when the younger's lips finally claim his neck, there's a firework that winds around Jongdae's spine and sparks in his head. He feels Sehun's tongue playing at connecting the dots with the moles on his neck, burning the nerves under his skin one after another, and he presses red crescents on Sehun's arms with a frustrated mewl.
“You're so beautiful,” Sehun whispers in his ear, his hot breath ghosting over Jongdae's skin. The latter frees one of his legs when Sehun catches his earlobe between his teeth, this way drawing a sonorous moan from him, and quickly unbelts Sehun. He feels the younger leaning into the touch and Jongdae loses himself in the pictures that keep running through his mind as Sehun leaves a trail of butterfly kisses along his collarbones. He draws abstract arabesques with his lips and paints them with the tip of his tongue all over Jongdae's chest, only stopping to nip at the older's nipples, feeding on the moans he keeps drawing from Jongdae.
Sehun finally reaches Jongdae's pants, and Jongdae squirms, trying to force Sehun to go lower. The guitarist doesn't, instead grabbing Jongdae's waistband to pull his pants down just enough to suck new bruises on his hips. Jongdae tilts his head back with a silent moan as his hips buck into Sehun, and the pleasure turns into burning frustration when Sehun grips his sides to hold him down.
“Sehun, please,” Jongdae begs as he glances down to meet Sehun's eyes heavy with lust. His lips are pink and swollen, and there's a thin sheen of sweat lightning his skin, and the contrast between his dark eyes and the white of his skin has Jongdae gasping for air. There's an array of emotions that crosses Sehun's face, and he gets back on his knees, still situated between Jongdae's legs. His hands ghost over Jongdae lower abdomen until they find Jongdae's pants, and pull them off, dragging his briefs with them. Jongdae shudders, his body completely on display on the bed, and all for Sehun to see.
“Sehun,” Jongdae pleads one more time as he squirms uncomfortably under Sehun's silent gaze. “There's lube in the night stand, just... Please.”
Oh Sehun watches him, and honest to god, he smirks. He's out of breath, obviously as hard as Jongdae, and the brat fucking smirks at him. Jongdae is about to protest but Sehun's tongue pushes into his mouth one more time, forcing him to swallow down his words.
They've kissed a million times already, and Jongdae was so sure he knew everything about Sehun, but the way the gutarist is now mapping his mouth with the tip of his tongue feels incredibly new. There's a shudder that washes over Sehun's spine when Jongdae buries his fingers in his hair, and that ends up in his already tensed abdomen-this way driving Jongdae crazy at the sensation because of their bodies pressed together. But it's more than that, it's even more than the affection and the longing Sehun's fingers write all over his body. The electricity between them is the same -they've always been attracted to each other after all- but it doesn't only shoot lightnings in the small of Jongdae's back anymore. Sehun presses a delicate assortment of kisses to his neck, and Jongdae crackles because of the thunderstorm on Sehun's lips. It's not only because of the pleasure or the lust, it's Sehun, Sehun's alabaster skin that grinds against his, and Sehun's high-voltage lips that scatter dozens of promises all over his body.
It doesn't take long for Jongdae's conscience to fade away in the haziness Sehun is creating in his mind while he sucks red and purple flowers on the canvas that Jondae's skin is. Every parts of Jongdae's body gets worshipped by Sehun, from his temples that Sehun kisses softly, to his ankles he nips at while Jongdae desperatly arches his back against the mattress. It's on Jongdae's thighs, though, that Sehun looses himself, kisses after kisses, as the heat turns into a throbbing and painful need for more. It doesn't take him more than five seconds to lube his fingers, and he has to force himself to take it slow when he meets Jongdae's hooded eyes.
The slight burn breaks through Jongdae's unconscious state of mind, and he winces when Sehun's slides his finger deeper into his ass. The need only grows stronger, though, and he forces his body to follow Sehun's movements. The latter is back at pressing kisses on his thighs, smoothing the pain with his tongue, and soon enough, it draws back, leaving only need for more. Jongdae begs Sehun, his voice hoarse and raw, and Sehun immediately complies by adding a second finger. The pressure shoots a mix of pain and desire through Jongdae's body, drawing a cracked moan from him as he tilts his head back. Sehun's tongue left his thighs and he is now fondly biting at his hips as his free hand caresses Jongdae's flat stomach. When he ads another finger, Jongdae's hand flies to catch his hand and Sehun interlaces their fingers. He kisses each knuckles as if Jongdae was one of the most precious thing on earth, and Jongdae falls over the edge. He frees his index finger and runs the tip along Sehun's lips, letting out a shaking mewl when Sehun's tongue darts outside his mouth to lick it.
“Please, Sehun, please...” Sehun is now kissing the palm of Jongdae's hand he just let go of as he curls his fingers in Jongdae's ass. Jongdae whines and runs his hand through Sehun's hair, the pressure in his stomach driving him crazy. A particular deep trust turns the corner of his vision white, and he clenches his fingers in Sehun's hair. He pulls at it and brings Sehun up to him, only letting him go to take his pants and briefs off. Sehun lets out a cry of surprise when Jongdae hooks his legs around his hips and digs his heels in the small of his back.
“Now,” Jongdae commands, his voice lower than usual. “I need you now.”
Sehun watches him with wide eyes and giggles, the sight of his eyes turning to half-moons physically hurting Jongdae's heart.
“You're unbelievable,” Sehun chuckles and Jongdae scrunches his eyebrows together.
“Yeah? Well, let's talk about that later, okay? Just--” Jongdae concludes with a suggestive gesture and Sehun chortles.
Weirdly, the need in Jongdae's body only grows stronger at the sound of Sehun's chuckling, and his want for him literally explodes in his belly. He grabs Sehun's hips and tips him over. Sehun's strangled gasp of surprise turns into a drawn-out moan when Jongdae sits on his cock. His nails press red crescent on the flesh of Jongdae's thighs, almost drawning blood, and he meets Jongdae's eyes, both of them looking as surprised as the other. Sehun opens his mouth to talk, but ends up moaning once again when Jongdae moves a little on top of him. Seeing the younger spread under him, with that beautiful shade of pink coloring his cheeks as he seems totally unable to stop the moans from leaving his mouth turns Jongdae into a devastating mix of love, affection and need. He puts his hands on Sehun's chest for balance, and loses himself in his beautiful eyes as he begins to rock back and forth. Sehun's hands fly to hold his waist and Jongdae feels the pressure on his hips urging him to go faster, and deeper.
“Hyung...”
The cocky and cheeky 'Jongdae' is gone, and once again, Jongdae is overwhelmed by the amount of love pulsating through his whole body. Sehun watches him through heavy lids, and finally lets go of his hips to slide his hands along the curve of his ass, and then his thighs. He bites his under lips and press further into the touch, drawning a satisfied moan from Jongdae. In a blink of an eye, though, Sehun's fingers are back on his hips, and the next thing Jongdae registers is his own back pressed against the mattress again.
“What the--” His protest drowns in a cry of pleasure when Sehun buries himself back in his ass.
“I'm not going to let you control everything this time, hyung,” Sehun whispers in his ear, his voice sending shivers down Jongdae's spine. He locks his legs around Sehun's waist and grabs his shoulder blades.
“I hate you,” Jongdae mewls, and Sehun smiles before licking his lips. Jongdae raises his head to meet him in a sloppy kiss. Their teeth clash together, but none of them pay attention as the rush of lust going through their bodies urges them to go faster, to kiss deeper, to love harder.
Jongdae's voice breaks when Sehun fucks into him harder, and Sehun's hand wraps around his erection when the younger feels the shuddering in his lover's belly. Jongdae breaks the kiss, gasping for air as all of his moans get stuck in the back of his throat. Sehun is watching him, and they're so close that Jongdae can see the tiny droplets of sweat in Sehun's bangs, can see the microscopic chestnut shards in his irises, and it's the idea that he's the only one who gets to see them that drives him over the edge.
He comes with Sehun's hand wrapped around his cock, white ropes spattering over his and Sehun's bellies, and it only takes a few seconds of Jongdae's walls clenching around his cock for Sehun to come too, his face pressed in Jongdae's neck while he bites the sensitive skin to muffle his groan.
“Oh my god,” Jongdae pants when Sehun guiltily licks the teeth marks in his neck, a few minutes later. “Oh my god, Sehun.”
Sehun looks up at Jongdae with a pleased smile on his face.
“Am I that good? You look like you've seen God.”
Jongdae groans and pushes Sehun away, pretending not to miss Sehun's body all over his as the carnal link between them breaks. He turns himself on the bed and has to bite his lips to hide his smile when he hears Sehun's giggling behind his back. The mattress creaks when the guitarist gets back on it, and soon enough, warm arms are wrapping themselves around Jongdae. Sehun's breath tickles the back of his head, but Jongdae doesn't protest. A few meters ahead, on the ground, lays the piece of paper with Baekhyun's number on it. The pang! in his heart isn't as painful as it was before, as it blends with the fond kisses Sehun is now leaving on the back of his neck, and maybe, Jongdae thinks, maybe he'll call Baekhyun again, and this time, he'll actually talk. He needs to try again, but Sehun has to be there too.
“I love you, hyung,” Sehun whispers in his ear before returning to playing connect the dots on his neck. Sehun doesn't expect Jongdae to answer, Jongdae knows it, but he still feels bad for staying silent. Relationships are hard and most of the time, they're painful. Jongdae has pretty much given his everything to Sehun already, but telling it aloud would change a lot of things, and it's scary. Of course, Sehun knows what Jongdae really feels, but that doesn't mean that Jongdae doesn't want to show him too. He grabs one of Sehun's hand and takes it to his mouth to kiss it tenderly. He feels Sehun smile against one of his moles' bump. For now, it's the best Jongdae can do.
Or maybe, he can do better, Jongdae actually thinks the day after. Tokyo has always been his favorite place to perform and tonight, the five of them are so hyper that he regrets that the show isn't recorded. The audience is crazy, the whole place is so noisy that the apocalypse could happen out there without none of them noticing it. Jongdae is going to add fuel to the biggest and the hottest fire ever seen, and the rush of adrenaline that follows his decision taking is so powerful that he staggers. He feels great. Alive. Tonight, it feels like they're all going down in history, and Jongdae has found the Fountain of Youth. Tonight, they will all become immortal.
Jongdae walks to Sehun and grabs him by the collar. The last things he sees are Sehun's wide eyes before Jongdae kisses him fully on the lips.
And this time, Sehun is unable to keep playing. His fingers release his guitar’s neck-after he manages to strum out the most horrendous note he’s ever played-so that he can bury them in Jongdae’s hair.
<< part 2
Sequel to Appetite for destruction