Empty, SooLi Oneshot
Pairing(s): SooLi
Word Count: 8,588
Genre: Angst, PWP
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Adult content, Language
Summary: Eli winds up hurting after a painful but inevitable argument. Soohyun tries to help, only to find that Eli might ask for more than he can give.
Bars. Bars and clubs and late-night takeout places. That's where most of the others are, taking in the last little bit of freedom we'll have here in Japan before we head home. We're at the tail end of our tour. There are only a few last little things for us to take care of before we fly back to Korea. Right now, here in the hotel suite, there's only two of us left. I've spent the last quarter of an hour watching Eli from my spot in the kitchenette, uncertain whether or not I should step in and say something.
I heard the fight. It would have been nearly impossible not to. Between the shouting and the cursing and someone punching a wall, it's a wonder that nobody called management to come up and see what was going on. Arguments like that are all part and parcel, just another part of daily life right now. It's not like I didn't expect it to happen sooner or later. I knew a week ago that AJ and Kevin had made their choice. It was only a matter of time until Eli figured that out, too.
He hasn't moved from his spot on the couch for a damn long time. He just sits there with his face in his hands, staring at the floor. That bothers me in a way I can't really put my finger on. Maybe it's because Eli isn't really the sort to sit still when he's upset. He's too quiet, and it's unnerving. Anything would be better than this. I'd even take the loud, angry shouting from earlier or a fist against the wall. At least then I'd know he was okay. This? This isn't okay. He just looks broken, and when he's broken, I can't help but feel the same.
Fifteen minutes pass. Then sixteen. Seventeen and I can't take it anymore. Walking out of the kitchen, I make my way into the common area and take a seat next to him. He doesn't look up. He just shifts himself with the cushions to give me a little more room. I want to be able to help. I want to fix the situation, but I know that I can't. What can I say? I guess there's really only one thing.
"Are you okay?" I ask, hoping he can't tell how much his state bothers me.
"I'm perfect. Fucking perfect." The response is immediate. Cool, confident, like it's a serious answer. Bullshit. He seems to realize how ridiculous it is, too. He takes a breath and his next answer is a lot more honest. "No. No, I'm not okay."
Somehow, I had kind of managed to figure that out on my own. "You want to talk about it?"
"There's nothing to talk about. You heard all of it, right?"
"Yeah," I admit. I think everyone in a three block radius heard. Especially the part where he nearly put a hole in the hotel. "Doesn't mean you can't talk about it. Might help you feel better."
There's a moment where I think he might actually be considering talking about it. At least, he doesn't protest or tell me to leave. He just sits there and shivers, all the while still somehow managing to look like he didn't just get dissed and dismissed by our friends. If he's thinking about it, he takes his time. In the end, he shakes his head. "Just leave me alone."
If that's how he wants to deal with this, it's not really my place to tell him to do otherwise. I know that he's hurting, and my heart is aching right along with his. That’s not something I'll tell him, not even something he needs or wants to know. It's insignificant, just like all of the empty words that I might say to offer comfort. I won't belittle him like that. He deserves better, and I can respect his request.
Getting to my feet, I take the time to pat him on the back and give his shoulder a squeeze. He's trembling. I'll leave him be, but I can still let him know that I'm here for him. I just wish there was something I could actually do to help.
"Look, if you change your mind, I'll be around. I think I'm going to take a shower or something, but you can come find me if you need to. Okay?" Patting his shoulder again, I dare to let out a sigh. "Just take it easy."
Waiting a moment does nothing; he offers no response. He just tenses under my hand, maybe uncomfortable with the fact that I know he's having a hard time. He has never had the easiest time opening up to other people, and this is one subject that I know is personal for him.
There's no point in hovering. Pulling my hand back, I get on with my business for the night. A quick stop in my room for a fresh towel and bathing supplies is my only detour before I make my way to the bathroom. Once in the shower, it's all too easy to let the heat and water wash away all of my concerns. Closing my eyes, I let the heat of the stream soak through my hair and run down by face. It should be a simple thing to relax, to forget all of my troubles. Somehow, it just isn't happening. No matter where I try to redirect my thoughts, they all seem to wind up back on Eli.
Yeah, I know. Of all the people I could have felt this way for, Eli's the worst possible choice. After Hoon and I split, I figured I'd find someone eventually. I even considered asking Kiseop out. Guess my brain and my heart have two different ideas of which way to go, 'cause that never happened. If I've told myself once, I've told myself a thousand times: find someone else to feel that way about. Someone who doesn't have a pile of his own problems, who isn't constantly chasing after someone that he gave up ages ago. Distracting myself, finding someone else or at least something else shouldn't be that hard. I've been telling myself that same thing for months, but it never seems to do a damn bit of good. Every thought, every single effort, always comes back to one point: Eli's who I care about and no amount of denial can change that.
Cursing my own stupidity, I step out of the spray and grab my shampoo. My self-indulgent thoughts are no excuse for avoiding the real purpose of a shower. I'm already taking longer than I probably should, but it doesn't really matter. It's not like anyone else is here to use it. And, anyway, maybe I need this time out. Working the lather into my hair, I try to shove my thoughts out of my mind, losing myself in the routine as I think about anything but him.
"Soohyun?"
The unexpected sound of a voice pulls me out of my mindless thoughts. I didn't hear the door open. Did he actually come to find me? Sure, I said he could, but I didn't really think that he would. And definitely not while I was in the shower.
Running a hand down my face to clear away some of the water blurring the rest of the room, I turn to face the door. "Yeah, what is it? Everything okay?"
"Uh, sorry. I was wondering if I could..."
His sentence trails off into nothingness, leaving me awkwardly hanging. Clearing my throat, I encourage him to keep going. "Yeah?"
"Shower with you." The words are rushed. Quiet. I can barely hear them over the water. There's a pause, and apparently he feels the need to clarify. "I just don't want to be alone right now."
I have to admit, I definitely wasn't expecting that, but there's no real reason to say no. We've showered together before, and right now I think I'd have more of an issue with leaving him alone when he doesn't want to be.
"Sure," I allow, stepping to the side to make room for him. This hotel shower is a little larger than most, a fact we've all been grateful for. I'm feeling the space as I watch him through the glass. He makes quick work of peeling off his clothes, tossing them out of the way and making no effort to stall before he pulls the shower door open and steps inside.
If I thought that Eli was a mess earlier, it's nothing to how he looks now. He looks like shit. There are circles under his eyes that have nothing to do with a lack of sleep. His entire face looks red and swollen, like he's spent more time than I know crying. In all honesty, he looks half-dead. Even though he was talking to me only a moment ago, it's like he doesn't really realize that I'm in here with him. He just steps sunder the water and lets it run through his hair and down across his shoulders.
I'm not sure what to say to him. I'm not sure if I should say anything at all. He's hurting, and he came to me for some sort of comfort. Just to know that someone else is here, I guess, but I wish I could do more for him. This isn't really the time or the place, especially with my own misguided feelings. The best I know how to do is grab the soap and try to focus on getting myself clean, keeping my eyes anywhere but on him.
"Do you want the shampoo?" I ask, trying to figure him out.
His mouth moves without making a sound for a moment. Seemingly realizing how that looks, he clears his throat and nods. "Yeah."
Bending over, I grab the bottle and hand it to him. He takes it without really paying attention, upending the shampoo and making a mess as he squirts too much of it on his hand. Most of it misses his hair as he goes to lather, but he doesn't notice.
Finished with my own cleaning routine, I set the soap back in its designated spot. When I turn back around, Eli seems to have given up on any pretense of trying to clean himself up. Leaning against the wall of the shower, his face is pressed tight against one arm. The small tremors from before are magnified, his shoulders shaking. He's crying. The bottle of shampoo tumbles from his fingers and hits the floor of the shower with a hollow thudding sound. Without really thinking about it, I reach out and place my hand on his shoulder. I can't stand to see him suffering alone. He doesn't push me away or even tense. He just stays as he is, falling to pieces under the lukewarm water of the shower.
"Eli," I murmur. "I'm sorry."
Eli pulls himself away from the wall and turns to face me. The look in his eyes is something that I've never seen before, like he's aged ten years. All of that attitude, the bravado and the humor that he usually puts on is long gone. All that's left is him. I don't think I've ever seen him quite this low, and I hope I never do again. He leans back against the wall, the spray dispersing chaotically through the messy strands of his hair. Half a minute passes and he doesn't move. So, I do the only thing I can think of. I reach out and pull him into a hug.
Letting out a wordless complaint, Eli tenses completely even as he allows himself to be pulled into the embrace. Half a heartbeat passes, and then I can feel his arms wrapping around me as he returns the hug. That's really the wrong way to put it. I don't know if he's hugging me so much as trying to find something to hold onto. I'm pretty sure my presence has nothing to do with it, especially considering that we're both naked and in a shower stall. He just seems to need this right now.
I didn't think that I'd be able to feel him crying. Not with the warm water and how we're standing. But I can, just like I can feel him shifting to try and get more comfortable, or maybe just trying to get closer. There's something like words tumbling from his lips, but it all turns to nonsense. I want to say something to make it better, but I know that this is something that words cannot touch. I just rub my fingers across his back and hope that letting him know that I'm here is enough.
I don't know why he lets this happen. It's not like this is the first time that I've seen him hurting. Maybe not this bad, and I've never seen him break down this far, but it's definitely happened before. Not just once or twice. This is something that has been happening for years, and it's always because of Kevin. For a while, I kind of hoped it was a phase. After all, it's not hard to see why they were close. But it wasn't a phase, and he never moves on. He just keeps letting Kevin do this to him.
The first time this happened was probably just after we really got started as a group, right after Kiseop got integrated into UKISS. Kibum was the problem then, and Eli didn't even have Kevin's ear. A couple of years later, it happened again, that time with Kiseop. And now it's happening all over again with AJ, only this time I don't think Kevin's going to move on. I think Eli knows it, too. The fact that AJ has pulled away from him hasn't helped. His best friend and they're still like this. Maybe that's why he's this fucked up. I've seen him in bad shape, but this is worse.
It's not Kevin's fault. Not really. I don't blame him, and I don't think Eli does either. That doesn't change the fact that it happens. Eli just doesn't know when it's time to give up, and when he does it's always at the wrong time. By the time he figures out what he wants, Kevin has already moved on. All that Eli is left with is this. A mess. His mess.
I can't blame him for being like this, but I've watched for too long without doing anything. Sometimes, I think it would be better to just let him deal with it on his own. Right now, I wish I could do something to take away even a little of what he's feeling. I know how badly he's hurting because I've sat here and watched him fawn over for Kevin for years. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, least of all Eli.
Time passes. I don't know how long. The water turns from warm to tepid and finally runs cold. Eli makes no move to pull away, and I make no move to push him off of me. He needs this. And, I think, maybe I need it, too. That's true even if I should be figuring out how to turn off my own inappropriate emotions.
"I'm sorry." It's the only thing I can think to say, but I mean it even if the words are useless.
Against me, Eli shivers. He lets out a sound that's not quite a cry, but close enough to leave me feeling unsettled. "It's my own damn fault. I should know better by now."
I wish I could argue with him, but I can't. Not really. This circus has been going on way too long, and he's right. He should know better. Love and logic rarely go hand in hand. If they did, I wouldn't be here in this shower, holding him. I'd like to say that I'm just doing it as a friend, but that would be a lie. Some part of me enjoys having him close like this for all the wrong reasons. Right now, I hate that part of myself, if only because I can't even focus on the real problem.
Shifting my weight onto the other foot, I let out a heavy breath. There's something I want to ask, and I don't think I want to hear the answer. I just have to know. "Do you love him?"
"I don't know." The words aren't fast, or rushed, or just a reaction. There's something about them that tells me that he's thought a lot about that subject. Not recently, maybe, but over time. He's still trembling against me. I can feel his fingers flex against my skin as he takes a deep, shivering breath. "I... I thought I did. Used to. Maybe still do. I just don't fucking know anymore. I don't know anything."
The words are hitched along with his breath. I can feel the force of them as he leans against me. He's heavy. Letting myself lean backwards, I rest against the cool tile on the wall. Eli doesn't protest, but I can feel his hold on me tighten, like he's afraid I'll let him fall. Seeing him wrecked like this is enough to tug at my heartstrings. I'm hurting right along with him. It feels as though if one of us goes down, we both will.
"Eli," I start quietly, "you aren't r--"
"How can he do this to me?" His question cuts me off. I don't have a good answer. "And not just Kevin. I don't get it. Even AJ..."
Betrayal is a feeling that I know well. Even so, I know that I'll never know exactly what he's feeling. Telling him that I did would be a lie, and an insulting one at that. What are you supposed to say in a situation like this? What are you supposed to do? Usually, I have some sort of idea. Right now, I don't. I'm at a complete loss. All I can do is keep holding him like this and hope that the tears stop soon.
"I'm sorry." I'm repeating myself, but that's all that I can tell him.
Against my chest, Eli takes a shallow breath. Then, he rests a little more heavily against me, his face pressing into my shoulder. He isn't shivering anymore. Instead, he's disturbingly still.
"I just don't want to think about it right now," he breathes.
Rubbing his back in a soothing motion, I don't respond. There are things that I could say but they would be empty and meaningless, or downright inappropriate. For once, his problems seem more important to me than my own.
My problems. Or rather, the one who is clinging to me for comfort right now. My friend. My band-mate. That's something I tend to forget. Right now, I need to remind myself of that fact once again, because I'm starting to slip and I know it. He's holding onto me for support and a shoulder to cry on. Literally, apparently. But me? I'm feeling just how warm he is pressed up against me, and all of those little details that I shouldn't be able to notice. He did a shitty job of cleaning up. I can still smell that cologne he wears, and the gel crap he put in his hair this morning.
Suddenly, I realize that I'm pressing my face into his hair. That's going too far. I need to get out of here before I do something I'll really regret.
"We should get out of here," I tell him. Swallowing hard to clear my throat, I continue. "Get you dressed, maybe head to bed early. We've got a long day tomorrow, you know? Or we could order take-out or something, if you're hungry, maybe g--"
"Fuck me."
Those two words make my brain short circuit. Jerking back, I look at him in open surprise. Surely I didn't hear that right. "W-what?"
"I said 'fuck me.'" The words are as clear as glass. My breath hitches as I try to process the request, the words not really sinking in the way that they should. He's leaning against me, but the manner in which he's pressing up against me changes as his fingers tighten around my shoulders. "If he can just go off and... and do that, why can't I?"
The words finally hit home in the same instant that I feel him move. He lifts his head off of my shoulder and presses his lips against my neck, working against my skin. Instantly, I grab his shoulders and shove him away from me. It's a miracle neither of us slips on the slick floor.
"What the hell, man?" I'm staring at him, my heart beating a mile a minute. Where did this come from?
"Please."
It's a single, broken word and it says everything. Eli looks right back at me from a foot and a half away, standing right where I pushed him. That's all he does. I can see a word of hurt in his eyes, but I don't think this is the way to deal with it. And I sure as hell don't think I should be the one he comes to for something like that.
Eli swallows hard. He can't seem to look at me any longer. He turns his stare towards the floor. "I-I just don't want to feel right now. I could get drunk or something, but..." He can't finish the sentence, but I can guess what he's thinking. Going out isn't bright, not just for the fact that getting shitfaced in public isn't a good idea anyway. We're stuck in a small commercial area. If he hit a club, he might wind up at the same one that AJ and Kevin went to. If that's where they went, which I think we're both doubting. I don't think that telling him that the chances of him wandering into the same hotel room aren't terribly high would help.
He sighs. "I just want... something else. Please, Soohyun. Take my mind off of it."
I've handled every kind of situation that I can think of with the others since Alexander and Kibum left. That comes with being the leader. But this is something different entirely. There's a very clear right and wrong here, and yet it's hard for me to tell him what I know I need to.
"This isn't the way," I murmur. "Come on. Let's get you dried off and we'll fi--"
He's kissing me. I don't even remember him moving closer, but now he's swallowing my words before they can leave my tongue, crushing us together. Heat flares up all around us and I can't help but respond to the kiss, unable to do anything else. A blank buzz fills my mind for half a second before I come to my senses. Shoving him away, I shout at him, "Eli! What the hell?"
He doesn't move away. He just looks looking at me like nothing happened. The longer he holds my gaze, the more uncertain he seems. Finally, he looks down again. "I know you want me. Don't tell me you don't."
The words are quiet and they're enough to make my world tilt sideways. I hadn't thought I'd been that obvious. After all, it wasn't like I ever tried to act on my feelings. Somehow, he's still managed to figure it out. He's right. I do want him, but this feels wrong. Even if it would help him, it shouldn't happen. Can't. Even if...
Why am I even thinking about this? I glance up at him and the answer is as plain as day. Eli is hurting. I would do just about anything to take away some of that, even if I know that what I'm doing is wrong. For me or for him, I'm not sure, but wrong nonetheless. He takes a step forward. This time, I'm too distracted by my own thoughts to push him away.
"It's okay," he tells me, his voice soft. Those words and the now-cold shower manage to pull my mind back to the present. "It's okay, Soohyun."
No, it isn't. But that doesn't stop him from leaning forward once more, hovering less than an inch away from my face. His eyes glance from my lips up to my eyes, but he doesn't move to close the distance between us again. He's giving me a choice, I realize, and it's one I don't really want to make. If I stop this and walk away, I'll avoid cheapening myself, but I would regret leaving him alone. And no matter how much I want to tell myself otherwise, I do want him. I also want him to feel better, to stop hurting. That overrides any common sense that might have normally made the decision for me. If I can help him in any way, I will.
I take one deep breath, and then I make my choice. Leaning forward, I eliminate the distance between us and press my lips to his. This isn't really a kiss. This is plastic, both of us knowing something isn't quite right but going ahead with it anyway. Slowly, his lips start to move against mine and I try to push away my own discomfort. Right now, that doesn't matter. Only he does. And so I tilt my head and press into the kiss, feeling his mouth against my own.
His hands find my waist and he takes another half-step forward to hold onto me once again. The water running down his skin must be ice cold, but I can't feel anything other than the heat of his body as I start to forget how we got into this position in the first place. His teeth brush against my bottom lip and my entire body jerks involuntarily towards him. His lips part against mine and I get my first real taste of him as the caress deepens, both of us starting to move together.
My hands find his shoulders as I try to steady myself. My back is slick against the tile and my feet feel unsteady, but I'm in no danger of falling. Eli's holding onto me too tightly, desperately. I'm not sure if he's pushing me against the wall or if I'm just pulling him so tightly against me that it feels that way. No matter what reservations I might have about this, I can't deny the effect that it's having on me. The kiss, the feel of his tongue against mine like he's got some right to be doing that, the contrast between the cold water and the heat of his skin are all fueling a new kind of need. I'm groaning into his mouth as he presses closer to me and I don't even care as I feel his tongue tracing across my teeth.
We break from the kiss and we're both breathing heavily. I'm practically panting as I bring my focus back to his face. He's looking at me with an intensity I've never seen from him before. My thoughts are swimming, clouded by the arousal that is coursing through my veins. I shouldn't have allowed this, shouldn't be encouraging it. But I like the way he has me framed against the wall.
I can see any number of emotions in Eli's eyes as he looks at me. He's still hurting, but there's something else there, too. Heat.
Moving like it takes all the effort in the world, Eli slides one of his legs between both of mine. There's no space left between us any more. As his body lines up with my, I can feel his dick against my hip. He's more than half hard. At least he's enjoying this. I'd be lying if I denied how turned on I am, and feeling him like that is enough to make my cock twitch.
If I want to back out of what we're doing, this feels like the last chance. He seems to know that, too. He just looks at me, eyebrows raised as if he's asking a question. I make no move to pull away or slip past him. Instead, I reach out with one hand and fumble with the shower's swivel knobs, turning off the water. I pull my hand back and meet his eyes. We both know what comes next. Half a second later, his lips are on mine and we're both stumbling out of the shower and into the hall, making our way haphazardly towards our room. We're dripping wet, overheating and clumsy and none of that seems to matter in the slightest. It's pure luck that none of the others have come home, and also that Eli and I are sharing a room this time.
We stumble into the room, tripping over discarded clothing and a duffel bag as we fumble forward. I reach to flip on the lights, but Eli's hand grabs my wrist. "Don't bother," he says, tugging me further into the room. He kicks the door shut behind us. Step by step, he backs us both towards the bunk bed that serves as our sleep place. I watch him through the shadows, frozen in place and wait for common sense to kick in. There's some part of my mind that's supposed to keep telling me that this is a bad idea, or that it's a mistake I can correct before it happens. Nothing happens, though. No sudden surge of guilt or moral responsibility pulls me away. I know I'll regret this, but right now I don't feel the need to leave. It's wrong, so wrong, but I want him.
"Come on," Eli murmurs, holding his hand out to me. Without even thinking about it, I follow the words easily. Stepping forward, I hover in front of him long enough to place a hand on his chest and shove him back onto my bunk. The sheets are damp as I follow, covering his body with mine. Eli's fingers trace across my skin, sliding down my chest and tickling at my ribs. I lean in to kiss him again, but he turns his head. Pressing those hands a little more urgently to my skin, he says, "Please, Soohyun."
One of these days, we're going to have a talk about his one word requests. Right now, I know exactly what he means. What he wants. I hesitate as the reality of the situation starts to set in with the heat of our skin pressed together. Eli has no such problems. One of his hands slides down my belly, wrapping around my cock and stroking harshly as I press my lips to his jaw. Moaning against his skin, I can't stop myself from thrusting into his hand. No matter what sort of moral hangups I might have, at least one part of me definitely doesn't mind the attention.
The friction intensifies as his hips press against my own. His hand leaves my length for half a second. When the pressure returns, it's with the feeling of his own cock pressed firmly against mine, his hand barely holding us together as he rocks up against me.
"Eli, fuck..." My head falls onto his shoulder as he thrusts up against me, letting out a wordless groan of his own. My hips are moving on their own, pushing us together over and over. Each little movement is lubricated by our sweat and what's left of the dampness from the shower. The entire room is just so fucking hot. His damp hair offers the only chill, the strands tickling at my temple. My hands find their way to his sides. I dig my fingers in, trying to hold him in place under me. The static against my skin feels good, but it's not enough.
As though he could read my mind, I feel Eli pull away slightly. Grunting, I shift to let him adjust the way he's lying on the bed. We both slide a little further onto the mattress, covering it length-wise instead of halfway hanging off the side. Around me, Eli parts his legs, making space for me between them rather than having us just crammed on top of each other the way we were before. These beds really weren't designed for more than one occupant. Right now, I don't give a damn. We both take a breath, and then we crash together once more. No hands are needed as we press together this time, our bodies showing us the way as I grind against his skin.
One of Eli's arms wraps around my neck, pulling me down roughly against him. One hand planted on the mattress to keep me from collapsing entirely, I let the other feel more of his skin. Down across his chest, over his waist and onto his hip. Hauling his leg up, I press closer as his lips find mind, claiming the rough kiss that I was denied earlier. He bites at my bottom lip as I thrust my tongue into his mouth, letting my fingers slide down his thigh to grab his ass. His dick twitches against my belly as I squeeze the muscle and let my teeth graze his lips in turn.
"Take me," he breathes roughly, the words rushed as he pulls back from the kiss. "Take me now. I need more."
Shit. Even if I wanted to say no, I'm too turned on to stop right now. My fingers curl against his ass without my say-so, two of them pressing up against his entrance. He lets out a low groan at the touch, his hips bucking against me. I can't just keep grinding against him. Moving so quickly that I barely have time to register the chill in the air of the room, I pull away.
"Hang on," I mutter, bending over the side of the bed and ignoring a loud, indignant complaint from Eli. Fishing under the bed for half a second, I sit back between his legs.
"What the hell, Soohyun?" Eli asks, propping himself up on his elbows. He goes quiet when he sees what I have in my hand. "Oh."
Flipping the top off the bottle of lube, I arch one eyebrow at him. "Unless you'd rather do without."
"Uh, no." I think he's blushing, but the room's too dark to tell for sure. That's kind of amusing despite the situation we're in. Eli clears his throat when I let out a rather inappropriate laugh. "Go ahead."
And so I do, dropping the bottle of lube onto the bed next to us once I've got what I need. I'm rushing, and he's uncomfortable, but I just can't focus well enough to make this part any better than it is. I think that if I did then maybe I'd read more into it. That's definitely part of the reason I don't take my time. I can't afford to put any more of my heart into what we're doing than what I've already lost. Eli grunts in discomfort as I stretch him open, but he makes no move to stop me.
"Right there," he murmurs, pulling me down on top of him as I curve three fingers into him. Pressing over the same place once more gets me a moan, and then another when I do so again. The way his voice sounds like that, raw and needy, is addictive to me. All of the intent that I had of rushing through getting him ready is flying right out the window with the way he's rocking his hips against my hand. He feels good and I am the reason for it. I like that thought far more than I should, even more so when he tightens his hold on me and latches onto the side of my neck with lips and tongues and teeth. I can feel his cock pulsing against my stomach, precum smearing across my skin. Is he always this into it when he does stuff like this?
Feeling a cramp in my wrist, I pull back. I can't wait anymore. I don't think he can either, but I want to make sure. My finger slide free of his body with an embarrassingly loud sound, but I don't care. Hovering over him, I'm panting as I try to find a way to ask what I need to know. "Eli, I... want... Can I?"
"Do it."
Fumbling for the bottle of lube, I get just enough to swipe some over his ass and down my length. I toss the bottle to the side, praying that the lid is actually secure. Then I lean up against him. He meets my eyes, and I wish I wasn't imagining that there was more than just lust and sadness in his expression. I wish that this was more than just some random fuck. But it's not. So I push into him without another thought.
Every nerve in Eli's body tightens as I slide all the way in. Holy fuck, he is tight. Not like I was expecting otherwise, but this is enough to make my head spin. He's cursing under his breath, every other word something foul in English or Korean or Chinese. At least he's got a wide variety of swear words to choose from. I don't know how he can think straight enough to talk when we're like this. I sure as hell can't.
Collecting myself enough to look at him, I can see tears in the corners of his eyes. Maybe I shouldn't, but I want to apologize. I know that this probably stings like hell, but my apologies would still be out of place. After all, he asked fro this. Instead, allow myself the closest thing to affection that I dare. Reaching up with one hand, I run my fingers through his hair. Still wet. He didn't even really wash it, but he still smells like the shampoo and that hair gel. And right now he's trying to steady his breath and look anywhere but at me. I can’t take away what he's feeling, but I can wait until he's ready, at least.
A few seconds pass, maybe a minute, before I finally feel him relax. Not enough, but enough that I can actually shift without watching him wince. He takes a shuddering breath. "Move," he says. I can't hear any emotion in his voice. The word is flat, but I obey. Slowly, determinedly, I pull back and let my eyes side closed at the friction. It's been way too long since the last time I did something like this, and right now I don't even know if I can really enjoy it.
Eli doesn't push back into my thrusts. Instead, he parts his legs further and reaches up to wrap a hand around my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair. His other hand comes to rest low on my side, just above my hip. He simply feels my movements for a long while before he finally rolls his hips, letting out a quiet gasp as he does so. Those fingers on my skin dig in so deeply that I'm sure he's going to leave a bruise. I don't care. All I care about right now is the heat between us. The sensation of being with him like this, the friction driving every sane thought out of my head each time I sink into him. I can hear someone's heartbeat and I'm not sure if it's mine or his. I'm not sure of anything anymore.
Rolling his hips a little more roughly, Eli finally decides to take a more active role in what we're doing. He lets out a groan and pulls me back down on top of him. I hadn't realized that I had pulled back so far. Even though there's nothing personal in what we're doing, he doesn't seem to like me being any further away than I have to be. Selfish as it is, I give in. Wrapping one arm awkwardly around his side, I push closer and try to get as hear to him as I can.
I can feel his cock brushing against me, his breath hot against the side of my neck. I'm completely caught up in him. What we're doing has no real rhythm to it. We're just moving on instinct. Every slide, every thrust and touch between us is meaningless beyond the lust that is running through our veins. The roughness of our efforts is a good thing. It makes it harder for me to focus on how different I wish the situation was.
My hips stutter as that one coherent thought manages to make its way through the haze of my mind. Beneath me, Eli squirms and lets out a groan as our tempo is interrupted.
"Soohyun..."
I've never heard anyone say my name like that. Desperately. Like it's the only thing that matters to him right now. I know none of that emotion has anything to do with me, not really, but that doesn't stop me from turning my head to look at him as I push into him again. I want to see his face.
As I turn to look at him, he looks right back. His eyes are clouded with heat, his lips parted and shining wet. He looks amazing. Those fingers of his tighten in my hair, pulling me closer and guiding my mouth to his. When our lips meet this time, it isn't all teeth and desperation. This is something else, something softer and slower that makes my heart ache. I really am going to regret all of this when it's over, and in this moment I know it. And I know that it doesn't matter in the slightest.
The kiss deepens, my tongue searching out his. He makes no protest as our hips slow and the movement of our lips begins to lead our heated actions instead. Pulling his fingers away from my hair, he slides them down my back. The touch is surprisingly gentle. He isn't raking marks down my skin or trying to hang on for dear life. He's just touching, and I don't understand why.
Eli's hands make their way to my ass. He squeezes, pulling me into him. Had we stopped moving entirely? I hadn't even noticed, but I certainly do when he groans into my mouth. Whatever that moment between us was, it's time to take care of more pressing needs. Shifting my hips against him, I thrust into him once more and listen to the heady moan that leaves his lips. He must like what we're doing. Good. That's what I wanted. For him to feel something. To feel better, I mean.
Our kiss breaks when neither of us can focus on that any longer. He presses his lips to my shoulder instead, keeping them there for half a second before he breathes my name again. Every time he does that makes my heart squeeze painfully. Those fingers of his can't seem to decide where to hold onto as I take him roughly, giving him everything I've got. He lets out another rough cry, nails digging into my skin, and I know that he needs more than just this.
Pulling our bodies far enough apart that I can reach between us with my free hand, I wrap my fingers around his cock and begin to stroke. The heat between us is building at an incredible rate. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to last. My mind i swimming, focused only on the tightness of his body around me and the way it feels as our chests brush together. His lips are on my shoulder and neck, pressing kisses or muttering curses against my skin. I love it.
"I love you." The words leave my lips before I'm even aware of saying them. I hesitate for only a second, but Eli gives me no indication that he even heard what I said. Instead, he digs his teeth into the side of my neck and rocks his hips, pulling my length back into him as he pants his pleasure against my skin.
"Fuck." Eli is gritting his teeth. I can feel his body tightening around me. "Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Right there."
His voice drives any rationality that I had left out of my mind. My hand speeds up on his length at the same time that my hips do. He throws his head back against the pillow and cries out, fingernails scratching their way up my back. His entire body tenses and I can feel the wet, sticky heat spilling out against my fist and over my fingers. That sensation alone is almost more than I can handle. Panting against his shoulder, I thrust into him twice more before I'm list. A wave of white overtakes me, erasing everything around me as I empty myself completely inside of him.
Coming back down to Earth takes longer than it should. Trembling, I push myself up on my elbows and pull out of him, wincing slightly as I realize that I probably should have waited a minute or two. He makes no move to stop me as I fall to the side, occupying what little space is left between him and the wall.
Now that we're done, I feel dirty and embarrassed. What we did wasn't right, even if it did feel good. I am already regretting the confession that I never wanted to make. That was one more mistake to top off an entire pile of them that I've racked up in the past hour. I know it. I'm sure he does, too. Right now, I can't bring myself to turn and look at him to see for certain. Truth be told, I'm not sure what to do.
Eli doesn't seem to have the same problem. He lets out a shaky sigh, and then asks, "Why didn't you say something?"
"It doesn't matter." The reply is flat. That's true on more levels than one. The confession itself doesn't matter. I know that he doesn't feel the same, and nothing I could say or do will change that. The reasons that I never said anything are equally meaningless and inappropriate. I don't need to burden him with those thoughts right now. Not when he probably doesn't give a damn. He's got worse things to worry about.
And yet, some part of me wishes that he would disagree. I wish he'd tell me that it's mutual, or that he wants to hear what's on my mind or that he doesn't mind if I feel that way. Something. Anything. Instead, he makes no response at all. He just keeps breathing heavily, less than two inches away on the damp sheets.
Being here feels inappropriate. I think that I should go shower off again, if only to get the evidence of what we've just done off my skin. Or maybe to try and make myself feel better, if that's even possible. My muscles ache dully as I move to sit up, heading for the edge of the bed. As I set one foot on the floor, I feel a hand close around one of my wrists.
"Stay," Eli murmurs shakily. The word is halfway between a question and a request, like he isn't sure whether or not he should be saying it. I'm not really sure, either. He tugs on my wrist, pulling me back towards him. I know that I should pull away, but I can't. He still isn't okay. Slowly, I follow the pull and lie down next to him. Even though I'm trying to put a couple of inches between us, he doesn't allow it. Instead, he takes that arm that he has a hold of and wraps it around his waist. His skin is hot under mine.
This is uncomfortable. Not being next to him, but the atmosphere around us. I don't like feeling uneasy like this. Tensing my fingers against the sheet rather than the side of his body, I tell him, "I should go get our clothes out of the bathroom at least."
"Don't bother." He lets out an indelicate snort, seeing through my thin excuse. "I heard the door while we were going at it. Someone's already here."
He doesn't have to explain. Even I get the implications behind that. If someone else has come home, they've probably already discovered our discarded clothes in the bathroom. Six of us living together while on tour, we can't really afford to be too messy. At least in common areas. Scattered clothes from two of us in the shower are pretty obvious. Even when we shower together, we gather our stuff up after, if we didn't leave it in our room in the first place. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out what had happened, or to get the general idea if nothing else. Whoever it was that came back to the suite knows. They may have even heard us.
Ordinarily, I would panic. I would probably jump to my feet and rush out into the living room and try to sort the situation out. Depending on who it was that came home, the situation could be very bad. Right now, though, the only worry I feel is detached and distant. It's hard to formulate solid thoughts when your entire body is trying to shut down and go to sleep.
"What we just did..." I'm not sure how to phrase the thoughts running detachedly through my mind. I can't finish the sentence.
He takes in the words quietly. "Thanks."
"For what?" His response makes no sense to me. My eyes glance down to look at him for the first time since we finished. He doesn't seem upset or bothered, just tired. Tired, and content. That's unexpected.
"I needed that," he breathes. The words feel like an admission, something that he doesn't want to tell anyone. "I needed to... feel wanted."
My heart squeezes painfully at those words. Those words are incredibly personal, and he is telling me something like that with a little half-smile on his lips. What am I supposed to do with that? What am I supposed to do in this kind of situation? It seems like there aren't any right answers, only wrong ones.
"Eli," I start uncertainly, "do y--"
"If you want to talk, it can wait until morning, right?" he asks, cutting me off. Without waiting for an answer, he rolls onto his side, keeping hold of my arm so that I am holding him as he scoots backwards, snuggling against my chest. "I'm tired."
His heavy breaths are soft now, growing deep and even as he drifts off to sleep in my arms. We're going to sleep together like this, on these messy sheets covering my mattress. All of the emotions from the evening seem to be condensing, pressing together into one dark cloud hanging over us.
I wonder if the situation is as disastrous as I imagine that it could be, but somehow I can't seem to get my worries to stick. I should probably regret what we've done, especially since the others will know. That will bring me no end of grief, and it could make things much worse for Eli. Right now, tomorrow is something that I should be dreading. I can't control whatever will happen. No matter what, though, at least I'll start the morning with Eli next to me, even if it's for all the wrong reasons.
Word Count: 8,588
Genre: Angst, PWP
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Adult content, Language
Summary: Eli winds up hurting after a painful but inevitable argument. Soohyun tries to help, only to find that Eli might ask for more than he can give.
Bars. Bars and clubs and late-night takeout places. That's where most of the others are, taking in the last little bit of freedom we'll have here in Japan before we head home. We're at the tail end of our tour. There are only a few last little things for us to take care of before we fly back to Korea. Right now, here in the hotel suite, there's only two of us left. I've spent the last quarter of an hour watching Eli from my spot in the kitchenette, uncertain whether or not I should step in and say something.
I heard the fight. It would have been nearly impossible not to. Between the shouting and the cursing and someone punching a wall, it's a wonder that nobody called management to come up and see what was going on. Arguments like that are all part and parcel, just another part of daily life right now. It's not like I didn't expect it to happen sooner or later. I knew a week ago that AJ and Kevin had made their choice. It was only a matter of time until Eli figured that out, too.
He hasn't moved from his spot on the couch for a damn long time. He just sits there with his face in his hands, staring at the floor. That bothers me in a way I can't really put my finger on. Maybe it's because Eli isn't really the sort to sit still when he's upset. He's too quiet, and it's unnerving. Anything would be better than this. I'd even take the loud, angry shouting from earlier or a fist against the wall. At least then I'd know he was okay. This? This isn't okay. He just looks broken, and when he's broken, I can't help but feel the same.
Fifteen minutes pass. Then sixteen. Seventeen and I can't take it anymore. Walking out of the kitchen, I make my way into the common area and take a seat next to him. He doesn't look up. He just shifts himself with the cushions to give me a little more room. I want to be able to help. I want to fix the situation, but I know that I can't. What can I say? I guess there's really only one thing.
"Are you okay?" I ask, hoping he can't tell how much his state bothers me.
"I'm perfect. Fucking perfect." The response is immediate. Cool, confident, like it's a serious answer. Bullshit. He seems to realize how ridiculous it is, too. He takes a breath and his next answer is a lot more honest. "No. No, I'm not okay."
Somehow, I had kind of managed to figure that out on my own. "You want to talk about it?"
"There's nothing to talk about. You heard all of it, right?"
"Yeah," I admit. I think everyone in a three block radius heard. Especially the part where he nearly put a hole in the hotel. "Doesn't mean you can't talk about it. Might help you feel better."
There's a moment where I think he might actually be considering talking about it. At least, he doesn't protest or tell me to leave. He just sits there and shivers, all the while still somehow managing to look like he didn't just get dissed and dismissed by our friends. If he's thinking about it, he takes his time. In the end, he shakes his head. "Just leave me alone."
If that's how he wants to deal with this, it's not really my place to tell him to do otherwise. I know that he's hurting, and my heart is aching right along with his. That’s not something I'll tell him, not even something he needs or wants to know. It's insignificant, just like all of the empty words that I might say to offer comfort. I won't belittle him like that. He deserves better, and I can respect his request.
Getting to my feet, I take the time to pat him on the back and give his shoulder a squeeze. He's trembling. I'll leave him be, but I can still let him know that I'm here for him. I just wish there was something I could actually do to help.
"Look, if you change your mind, I'll be around. I think I'm going to take a shower or something, but you can come find me if you need to. Okay?" Patting his shoulder again, I dare to let out a sigh. "Just take it easy."
Waiting a moment does nothing; he offers no response. He just tenses under my hand, maybe uncomfortable with the fact that I know he's having a hard time. He has never had the easiest time opening up to other people, and this is one subject that I know is personal for him.
There's no point in hovering. Pulling my hand back, I get on with my business for the night. A quick stop in my room for a fresh towel and bathing supplies is my only detour before I make my way to the bathroom. Once in the shower, it's all too easy to let the heat and water wash away all of my concerns. Closing my eyes, I let the heat of the stream soak through my hair and run down by face. It should be a simple thing to relax, to forget all of my troubles. Somehow, it just isn't happening. No matter where I try to redirect my thoughts, they all seem to wind up back on Eli.
Yeah, I know. Of all the people I could have felt this way for, Eli's the worst possible choice. After Hoon and I split, I figured I'd find someone eventually. I even considered asking Kiseop out. Guess my brain and my heart have two different ideas of which way to go, 'cause that never happened. If I've told myself once, I've told myself a thousand times: find someone else to feel that way about. Someone who doesn't have a pile of his own problems, who isn't constantly chasing after someone that he gave up ages ago. Distracting myself, finding someone else or at least something else shouldn't be that hard. I've been telling myself that same thing for months, but it never seems to do a damn bit of good. Every thought, every single effort, always comes back to one point: Eli's who I care about and no amount of denial can change that.
Cursing my own stupidity, I step out of the spray and grab my shampoo. My self-indulgent thoughts are no excuse for avoiding the real purpose of a shower. I'm already taking longer than I probably should, but it doesn't really matter. It's not like anyone else is here to use it. And, anyway, maybe I need this time out. Working the lather into my hair, I try to shove my thoughts out of my mind, losing myself in the routine as I think about anything but him.
"Soohyun?"
The unexpected sound of a voice pulls me out of my mindless thoughts. I didn't hear the door open. Did he actually come to find me? Sure, I said he could, but I didn't really think that he would. And definitely not while I was in the shower.
Running a hand down my face to clear away some of the water blurring the rest of the room, I turn to face the door. "Yeah, what is it? Everything okay?"
"Uh, sorry. I was wondering if I could..."
His sentence trails off into nothingness, leaving me awkwardly hanging. Clearing my throat, I encourage him to keep going. "Yeah?"
"Shower with you." The words are rushed. Quiet. I can barely hear them over the water. There's a pause, and apparently he feels the need to clarify. "I just don't want to be alone right now."
I have to admit, I definitely wasn't expecting that, but there's no real reason to say no. We've showered together before, and right now I think I'd have more of an issue with leaving him alone when he doesn't want to be.
"Sure," I allow, stepping to the side to make room for him. This hotel shower is a little larger than most, a fact we've all been grateful for. I'm feeling the space as I watch him through the glass. He makes quick work of peeling off his clothes, tossing them out of the way and making no effort to stall before he pulls the shower door open and steps inside.
If I thought that Eli was a mess earlier, it's nothing to how he looks now. He looks like shit. There are circles under his eyes that have nothing to do with a lack of sleep. His entire face looks red and swollen, like he's spent more time than I know crying. In all honesty, he looks half-dead. Even though he was talking to me only a moment ago, it's like he doesn't really realize that I'm in here with him. He just steps sunder the water and lets it run through his hair and down across his shoulders.
I'm not sure what to say to him. I'm not sure if I should say anything at all. He's hurting, and he came to me for some sort of comfort. Just to know that someone else is here, I guess, but I wish I could do more for him. This isn't really the time or the place, especially with my own misguided feelings. The best I know how to do is grab the soap and try to focus on getting myself clean, keeping my eyes anywhere but on him.
"Do you want the shampoo?" I ask, trying to figure him out.
His mouth moves without making a sound for a moment. Seemingly realizing how that looks, he clears his throat and nods. "Yeah."
Bending over, I grab the bottle and hand it to him. He takes it without really paying attention, upending the shampoo and making a mess as he squirts too much of it on his hand. Most of it misses his hair as he goes to lather, but he doesn't notice.
Finished with my own cleaning routine, I set the soap back in its designated spot. When I turn back around, Eli seems to have given up on any pretense of trying to clean himself up. Leaning against the wall of the shower, his face is pressed tight against one arm. The small tremors from before are magnified, his shoulders shaking. He's crying. The bottle of shampoo tumbles from his fingers and hits the floor of the shower with a hollow thudding sound. Without really thinking about it, I reach out and place my hand on his shoulder. I can't stand to see him suffering alone. He doesn't push me away or even tense. He just stays as he is, falling to pieces under the lukewarm water of the shower.
"Eli," I murmur. "I'm sorry."
Eli pulls himself away from the wall and turns to face me. The look in his eyes is something that I've never seen before, like he's aged ten years. All of that attitude, the bravado and the humor that he usually puts on is long gone. All that's left is him. I don't think I've ever seen him quite this low, and I hope I never do again. He leans back against the wall, the spray dispersing chaotically through the messy strands of his hair. Half a minute passes and he doesn't move. So, I do the only thing I can think of. I reach out and pull him into a hug.
Letting out a wordless complaint, Eli tenses completely even as he allows himself to be pulled into the embrace. Half a heartbeat passes, and then I can feel his arms wrapping around me as he returns the hug. That's really the wrong way to put it. I don't know if he's hugging me so much as trying to find something to hold onto. I'm pretty sure my presence has nothing to do with it, especially considering that we're both naked and in a shower stall. He just seems to need this right now.
I didn't think that I'd be able to feel him crying. Not with the warm water and how we're standing. But I can, just like I can feel him shifting to try and get more comfortable, or maybe just trying to get closer. There's something like words tumbling from his lips, but it all turns to nonsense. I want to say something to make it better, but I know that this is something that words cannot touch. I just rub my fingers across his back and hope that letting him know that I'm here is enough.
I don't know why he lets this happen. It's not like this is the first time that I've seen him hurting. Maybe not this bad, and I've never seen him break down this far, but it's definitely happened before. Not just once or twice. This is something that has been happening for years, and it's always because of Kevin. For a while, I kind of hoped it was a phase. After all, it's not hard to see why they were close. But it wasn't a phase, and he never moves on. He just keeps letting Kevin do this to him.
The first time this happened was probably just after we really got started as a group, right after Kiseop got integrated into UKISS. Kibum was the problem then, and Eli didn't even have Kevin's ear. A couple of years later, it happened again, that time with Kiseop. And now it's happening all over again with AJ, only this time I don't think Kevin's going to move on. I think Eli knows it, too. The fact that AJ has pulled away from him hasn't helped. His best friend and they're still like this. Maybe that's why he's this fucked up. I've seen him in bad shape, but this is worse.
It's not Kevin's fault. Not really. I don't blame him, and I don't think Eli does either. That doesn't change the fact that it happens. Eli just doesn't know when it's time to give up, and when he does it's always at the wrong time. By the time he figures out what he wants, Kevin has already moved on. All that Eli is left with is this. A mess. His mess.
I can't blame him for being like this, but I've watched for too long without doing anything. Sometimes, I think it would be better to just let him deal with it on his own. Right now, I wish I could do something to take away even a little of what he's feeling. I know how badly he's hurting because I've sat here and watched him fawn over for Kevin for years. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, least of all Eli.
Time passes. I don't know how long. The water turns from warm to tepid and finally runs cold. Eli makes no move to pull away, and I make no move to push him off of me. He needs this. And, I think, maybe I need it, too. That's true even if I should be figuring out how to turn off my own inappropriate emotions.
"I'm sorry." It's the only thing I can think to say, but I mean it even if the words are useless.
Against me, Eli shivers. He lets out a sound that's not quite a cry, but close enough to leave me feeling unsettled. "It's my own damn fault. I should know better by now."
I wish I could argue with him, but I can't. Not really. This circus has been going on way too long, and he's right. He should know better. Love and logic rarely go hand in hand. If they did, I wouldn't be here in this shower, holding him. I'd like to say that I'm just doing it as a friend, but that would be a lie. Some part of me enjoys having him close like this for all the wrong reasons. Right now, I hate that part of myself, if only because I can't even focus on the real problem.
Shifting my weight onto the other foot, I let out a heavy breath. There's something I want to ask, and I don't think I want to hear the answer. I just have to know. "Do you love him?"
"I don't know." The words aren't fast, or rushed, or just a reaction. There's something about them that tells me that he's thought a lot about that subject. Not recently, maybe, but over time. He's still trembling against me. I can feel his fingers flex against my skin as he takes a deep, shivering breath. "I... I thought I did. Used to. Maybe still do. I just don't fucking know anymore. I don't know anything."
The words are hitched along with his breath. I can feel the force of them as he leans against me. He's heavy. Letting myself lean backwards, I rest against the cool tile on the wall. Eli doesn't protest, but I can feel his hold on me tighten, like he's afraid I'll let him fall. Seeing him wrecked like this is enough to tug at my heartstrings. I'm hurting right along with him. It feels as though if one of us goes down, we both will.
"Eli," I start quietly, "you aren't r--"
"How can he do this to me?" His question cuts me off. I don't have a good answer. "And not just Kevin. I don't get it. Even AJ..."
Betrayal is a feeling that I know well. Even so, I know that I'll never know exactly what he's feeling. Telling him that I did would be a lie, and an insulting one at that. What are you supposed to say in a situation like this? What are you supposed to do? Usually, I have some sort of idea. Right now, I don't. I'm at a complete loss. All I can do is keep holding him like this and hope that the tears stop soon.
"I'm sorry." I'm repeating myself, but that's all that I can tell him.
Against my chest, Eli takes a shallow breath. Then, he rests a little more heavily against me, his face pressing into my shoulder. He isn't shivering anymore. Instead, he's disturbingly still.
"I just don't want to think about it right now," he breathes.
Rubbing his back in a soothing motion, I don't respond. There are things that I could say but they would be empty and meaningless, or downright inappropriate. For once, his problems seem more important to me than my own.
My problems. Or rather, the one who is clinging to me for comfort right now. My friend. My band-mate. That's something I tend to forget. Right now, I need to remind myself of that fact once again, because I'm starting to slip and I know it. He's holding onto me for support and a shoulder to cry on. Literally, apparently. But me? I'm feeling just how warm he is pressed up against me, and all of those little details that I shouldn't be able to notice. He did a shitty job of cleaning up. I can still smell that cologne he wears, and the gel crap he put in his hair this morning.
Suddenly, I realize that I'm pressing my face into his hair. That's going too far. I need to get out of here before I do something I'll really regret.
"We should get out of here," I tell him. Swallowing hard to clear my throat, I continue. "Get you dressed, maybe head to bed early. We've got a long day tomorrow, you know? Or we could order take-out or something, if you're hungry, maybe g--"
"Fuck me."
Those two words make my brain short circuit. Jerking back, I look at him in open surprise. Surely I didn't hear that right. "W-what?"
"I said 'fuck me.'" The words are as clear as glass. My breath hitches as I try to process the request, the words not really sinking in the way that they should. He's leaning against me, but the manner in which he's pressing up against me changes as his fingers tighten around my shoulders. "If he can just go off and... and do that, why can't I?"
The words finally hit home in the same instant that I feel him move. He lifts his head off of my shoulder and presses his lips against my neck, working against my skin. Instantly, I grab his shoulders and shove him away from me. It's a miracle neither of us slips on the slick floor.
"What the hell, man?" I'm staring at him, my heart beating a mile a minute. Where did this come from?
"Please."
It's a single, broken word and it says everything. Eli looks right back at me from a foot and a half away, standing right where I pushed him. That's all he does. I can see a word of hurt in his eyes, but I don't think this is the way to deal with it. And I sure as hell don't think I should be the one he comes to for something like that.
Eli swallows hard. He can't seem to look at me any longer. He turns his stare towards the floor. "I-I just don't want to feel right now. I could get drunk or something, but..." He can't finish the sentence, but I can guess what he's thinking. Going out isn't bright, not just for the fact that getting shitfaced in public isn't a good idea anyway. We're stuck in a small commercial area. If he hit a club, he might wind up at the same one that AJ and Kevin went to. If that's where they went, which I think we're both doubting. I don't think that telling him that the chances of him wandering into the same hotel room aren't terribly high would help.
He sighs. "I just want... something else. Please, Soohyun. Take my mind off of it."
I've handled every kind of situation that I can think of with the others since Alexander and Kibum left. That comes with being the leader. But this is something different entirely. There's a very clear right and wrong here, and yet it's hard for me to tell him what I know I need to.
"This isn't the way," I murmur. "Come on. Let's get you dried off and we'll fi--"
He's kissing me. I don't even remember him moving closer, but now he's swallowing my words before they can leave my tongue, crushing us together. Heat flares up all around us and I can't help but respond to the kiss, unable to do anything else. A blank buzz fills my mind for half a second before I come to my senses. Shoving him away, I shout at him, "Eli! What the hell?"
He doesn't move away. He just looks looking at me like nothing happened. The longer he holds my gaze, the more uncertain he seems. Finally, he looks down again. "I know you want me. Don't tell me you don't."
The words are quiet and they're enough to make my world tilt sideways. I hadn't thought I'd been that obvious. After all, it wasn't like I ever tried to act on my feelings. Somehow, he's still managed to figure it out. He's right. I do want him, but this feels wrong. Even if it would help him, it shouldn't happen. Can't. Even if...
Why am I even thinking about this? I glance up at him and the answer is as plain as day. Eli is hurting. I would do just about anything to take away some of that, even if I know that what I'm doing is wrong. For me or for him, I'm not sure, but wrong nonetheless. He takes a step forward. This time, I'm too distracted by my own thoughts to push him away.
"It's okay," he tells me, his voice soft. Those words and the now-cold shower manage to pull my mind back to the present. "It's okay, Soohyun."
No, it isn't. But that doesn't stop him from leaning forward once more, hovering less than an inch away from my face. His eyes glance from my lips up to my eyes, but he doesn't move to close the distance between us again. He's giving me a choice, I realize, and it's one I don't really want to make. If I stop this and walk away, I'll avoid cheapening myself, but I would regret leaving him alone. And no matter how much I want to tell myself otherwise, I do want him. I also want him to feel better, to stop hurting. That overrides any common sense that might have normally made the decision for me. If I can help him in any way, I will.
I take one deep breath, and then I make my choice. Leaning forward, I eliminate the distance between us and press my lips to his. This isn't really a kiss. This is plastic, both of us knowing something isn't quite right but going ahead with it anyway. Slowly, his lips start to move against mine and I try to push away my own discomfort. Right now, that doesn't matter. Only he does. And so I tilt my head and press into the kiss, feeling his mouth against my own.
His hands find my waist and he takes another half-step forward to hold onto me once again. The water running down his skin must be ice cold, but I can't feel anything other than the heat of his body as I start to forget how we got into this position in the first place. His teeth brush against my bottom lip and my entire body jerks involuntarily towards him. His lips part against mine and I get my first real taste of him as the caress deepens, both of us starting to move together.
My hands find his shoulders as I try to steady myself. My back is slick against the tile and my feet feel unsteady, but I'm in no danger of falling. Eli's holding onto me too tightly, desperately. I'm not sure if he's pushing me against the wall or if I'm just pulling him so tightly against me that it feels that way. No matter what reservations I might have about this, I can't deny the effect that it's having on me. The kiss, the feel of his tongue against mine like he's got some right to be doing that, the contrast between the cold water and the heat of his skin are all fueling a new kind of need. I'm groaning into his mouth as he presses closer to me and I don't even care as I feel his tongue tracing across my teeth.
We break from the kiss and we're both breathing heavily. I'm practically panting as I bring my focus back to his face. He's looking at me with an intensity I've never seen from him before. My thoughts are swimming, clouded by the arousal that is coursing through my veins. I shouldn't have allowed this, shouldn't be encouraging it. But I like the way he has me framed against the wall.
I can see any number of emotions in Eli's eyes as he looks at me. He's still hurting, but there's something else there, too. Heat.
Moving like it takes all the effort in the world, Eli slides one of his legs between both of mine. There's no space left between us any more. As his body lines up with my, I can feel his dick against my hip. He's more than half hard. At least he's enjoying this. I'd be lying if I denied how turned on I am, and feeling him like that is enough to make my cock twitch.
If I want to back out of what we're doing, this feels like the last chance. He seems to know that, too. He just looks at me, eyebrows raised as if he's asking a question. I make no move to pull away or slip past him. Instead, I reach out with one hand and fumble with the shower's swivel knobs, turning off the water. I pull my hand back and meet his eyes. We both know what comes next. Half a second later, his lips are on mine and we're both stumbling out of the shower and into the hall, making our way haphazardly towards our room. We're dripping wet, overheating and clumsy and none of that seems to matter in the slightest. It's pure luck that none of the others have come home, and also that Eli and I are sharing a room this time.
We stumble into the room, tripping over discarded clothing and a duffel bag as we fumble forward. I reach to flip on the lights, but Eli's hand grabs my wrist. "Don't bother," he says, tugging me further into the room. He kicks the door shut behind us. Step by step, he backs us both towards the bunk bed that serves as our sleep place. I watch him through the shadows, frozen in place and wait for common sense to kick in. There's some part of my mind that's supposed to keep telling me that this is a bad idea, or that it's a mistake I can correct before it happens. Nothing happens, though. No sudden surge of guilt or moral responsibility pulls me away. I know I'll regret this, but right now I don't feel the need to leave. It's wrong, so wrong, but I want him.
"Come on," Eli murmurs, holding his hand out to me. Without even thinking about it, I follow the words easily. Stepping forward, I hover in front of him long enough to place a hand on his chest and shove him back onto my bunk. The sheets are damp as I follow, covering his body with mine. Eli's fingers trace across my skin, sliding down my chest and tickling at my ribs. I lean in to kiss him again, but he turns his head. Pressing those hands a little more urgently to my skin, he says, "Please, Soohyun."
One of these days, we're going to have a talk about his one word requests. Right now, I know exactly what he means. What he wants. I hesitate as the reality of the situation starts to set in with the heat of our skin pressed together. Eli has no such problems. One of his hands slides down my belly, wrapping around my cock and stroking harshly as I press my lips to his jaw. Moaning against his skin, I can't stop myself from thrusting into his hand. No matter what sort of moral hangups I might have, at least one part of me definitely doesn't mind the attention.
The friction intensifies as his hips press against my own. His hand leaves my length for half a second. When the pressure returns, it's with the feeling of his own cock pressed firmly against mine, his hand barely holding us together as he rocks up against me.
"Eli, fuck..." My head falls onto his shoulder as he thrusts up against me, letting out a wordless groan of his own. My hips are moving on their own, pushing us together over and over. Each little movement is lubricated by our sweat and what's left of the dampness from the shower. The entire room is just so fucking hot. His damp hair offers the only chill, the strands tickling at my temple. My hands find their way to his sides. I dig my fingers in, trying to hold him in place under me. The static against my skin feels good, but it's not enough.
As though he could read my mind, I feel Eli pull away slightly. Grunting, I shift to let him adjust the way he's lying on the bed. We both slide a little further onto the mattress, covering it length-wise instead of halfway hanging off the side. Around me, Eli parts his legs, making space for me between them rather than having us just crammed on top of each other the way we were before. These beds really weren't designed for more than one occupant. Right now, I don't give a damn. We both take a breath, and then we crash together once more. No hands are needed as we press together this time, our bodies showing us the way as I grind against his skin.
One of Eli's arms wraps around my neck, pulling me down roughly against him. One hand planted on the mattress to keep me from collapsing entirely, I let the other feel more of his skin. Down across his chest, over his waist and onto his hip. Hauling his leg up, I press closer as his lips find mind, claiming the rough kiss that I was denied earlier. He bites at my bottom lip as I thrust my tongue into his mouth, letting my fingers slide down his thigh to grab his ass. His dick twitches against my belly as I squeeze the muscle and let my teeth graze his lips in turn.
"Take me," he breathes roughly, the words rushed as he pulls back from the kiss. "Take me now. I need more."
Shit. Even if I wanted to say no, I'm too turned on to stop right now. My fingers curl against his ass without my say-so, two of them pressing up against his entrance. He lets out a low groan at the touch, his hips bucking against me. I can't just keep grinding against him. Moving so quickly that I barely have time to register the chill in the air of the room, I pull away.
"Hang on," I mutter, bending over the side of the bed and ignoring a loud, indignant complaint from Eli. Fishing under the bed for half a second, I sit back between his legs.
"What the hell, Soohyun?" Eli asks, propping himself up on his elbows. He goes quiet when he sees what I have in my hand. "Oh."
Flipping the top off the bottle of lube, I arch one eyebrow at him. "Unless you'd rather do without."
"Uh, no." I think he's blushing, but the room's too dark to tell for sure. That's kind of amusing despite the situation we're in. Eli clears his throat when I let out a rather inappropriate laugh. "Go ahead."
And so I do, dropping the bottle of lube onto the bed next to us once I've got what I need. I'm rushing, and he's uncomfortable, but I just can't focus well enough to make this part any better than it is. I think that if I did then maybe I'd read more into it. That's definitely part of the reason I don't take my time. I can't afford to put any more of my heart into what we're doing than what I've already lost. Eli grunts in discomfort as I stretch him open, but he makes no move to stop me.
"Right there," he murmurs, pulling me down on top of him as I curve three fingers into him. Pressing over the same place once more gets me a moan, and then another when I do so again. The way his voice sounds like that, raw and needy, is addictive to me. All of the intent that I had of rushing through getting him ready is flying right out the window with the way he's rocking his hips against my hand. He feels good and I am the reason for it. I like that thought far more than I should, even more so when he tightens his hold on me and latches onto the side of my neck with lips and tongues and teeth. I can feel his cock pulsing against my stomach, precum smearing across my skin. Is he always this into it when he does stuff like this?
Feeling a cramp in my wrist, I pull back. I can't wait anymore. I don't think he can either, but I want to make sure. My finger slide free of his body with an embarrassingly loud sound, but I don't care. Hovering over him, I'm panting as I try to find a way to ask what I need to know. "Eli, I... want... Can I?"
"Do it."
Fumbling for the bottle of lube, I get just enough to swipe some over his ass and down my length. I toss the bottle to the side, praying that the lid is actually secure. Then I lean up against him. He meets my eyes, and I wish I wasn't imagining that there was more than just lust and sadness in his expression. I wish that this was more than just some random fuck. But it's not. So I push into him without another thought.
Every nerve in Eli's body tightens as I slide all the way in. Holy fuck, he is tight. Not like I was expecting otherwise, but this is enough to make my head spin. He's cursing under his breath, every other word something foul in English or Korean or Chinese. At least he's got a wide variety of swear words to choose from. I don't know how he can think straight enough to talk when we're like this. I sure as hell can't.
Collecting myself enough to look at him, I can see tears in the corners of his eyes. Maybe I shouldn't, but I want to apologize. I know that this probably stings like hell, but my apologies would still be out of place. After all, he asked fro this. Instead, allow myself the closest thing to affection that I dare. Reaching up with one hand, I run my fingers through his hair. Still wet. He didn't even really wash it, but he still smells like the shampoo and that hair gel. And right now he's trying to steady his breath and look anywhere but at me. I can’t take away what he's feeling, but I can wait until he's ready, at least.
A few seconds pass, maybe a minute, before I finally feel him relax. Not enough, but enough that I can actually shift without watching him wince. He takes a shuddering breath. "Move," he says. I can't hear any emotion in his voice. The word is flat, but I obey. Slowly, determinedly, I pull back and let my eyes side closed at the friction. It's been way too long since the last time I did something like this, and right now I don't even know if I can really enjoy it.
Eli doesn't push back into my thrusts. Instead, he parts his legs further and reaches up to wrap a hand around my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair. His other hand comes to rest low on my side, just above my hip. He simply feels my movements for a long while before he finally rolls his hips, letting out a quiet gasp as he does so. Those fingers on my skin dig in so deeply that I'm sure he's going to leave a bruise. I don't care. All I care about right now is the heat between us. The sensation of being with him like this, the friction driving every sane thought out of my head each time I sink into him. I can hear someone's heartbeat and I'm not sure if it's mine or his. I'm not sure of anything anymore.
Rolling his hips a little more roughly, Eli finally decides to take a more active role in what we're doing. He lets out a groan and pulls me back down on top of him. I hadn't realized that I had pulled back so far. Even though there's nothing personal in what we're doing, he doesn't seem to like me being any further away than I have to be. Selfish as it is, I give in. Wrapping one arm awkwardly around his side, I push closer and try to get as hear to him as I can.
I can feel his cock brushing against me, his breath hot against the side of my neck. I'm completely caught up in him. What we're doing has no real rhythm to it. We're just moving on instinct. Every slide, every thrust and touch between us is meaningless beyond the lust that is running through our veins. The roughness of our efforts is a good thing. It makes it harder for me to focus on how different I wish the situation was.
My hips stutter as that one coherent thought manages to make its way through the haze of my mind. Beneath me, Eli squirms and lets out a groan as our tempo is interrupted.
"Soohyun..."
I've never heard anyone say my name like that. Desperately. Like it's the only thing that matters to him right now. I know none of that emotion has anything to do with me, not really, but that doesn't stop me from turning my head to look at him as I push into him again. I want to see his face.
As I turn to look at him, he looks right back. His eyes are clouded with heat, his lips parted and shining wet. He looks amazing. Those fingers of his tighten in my hair, pulling me closer and guiding my mouth to his. When our lips meet this time, it isn't all teeth and desperation. This is something else, something softer and slower that makes my heart ache. I really am going to regret all of this when it's over, and in this moment I know it. And I know that it doesn't matter in the slightest.
The kiss deepens, my tongue searching out his. He makes no protest as our hips slow and the movement of our lips begins to lead our heated actions instead. Pulling his fingers away from my hair, he slides them down my back. The touch is surprisingly gentle. He isn't raking marks down my skin or trying to hang on for dear life. He's just touching, and I don't understand why.
Eli's hands make their way to my ass. He squeezes, pulling me into him. Had we stopped moving entirely? I hadn't even noticed, but I certainly do when he groans into my mouth. Whatever that moment between us was, it's time to take care of more pressing needs. Shifting my hips against him, I thrust into him once more and listen to the heady moan that leaves his lips. He must like what we're doing. Good. That's what I wanted. For him to feel something. To feel better, I mean.
Our kiss breaks when neither of us can focus on that any longer. He presses his lips to my shoulder instead, keeping them there for half a second before he breathes my name again. Every time he does that makes my heart squeeze painfully. Those fingers of his can't seem to decide where to hold onto as I take him roughly, giving him everything I've got. He lets out another rough cry, nails digging into my skin, and I know that he needs more than just this.
Pulling our bodies far enough apart that I can reach between us with my free hand, I wrap my fingers around his cock and begin to stroke. The heat between us is building at an incredible rate. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to last. My mind i swimming, focused only on the tightness of his body around me and the way it feels as our chests brush together. His lips are on my shoulder and neck, pressing kisses or muttering curses against my skin. I love it.
"I love you." The words leave my lips before I'm even aware of saying them. I hesitate for only a second, but Eli gives me no indication that he even heard what I said. Instead, he digs his teeth into the side of my neck and rocks his hips, pulling my length back into him as he pants his pleasure against my skin.
"Fuck." Eli is gritting his teeth. I can feel his body tightening around me. "Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Right there."
His voice drives any rationality that I had left out of my mind. My hand speeds up on his length at the same time that my hips do. He throws his head back against the pillow and cries out, fingernails scratching their way up my back. His entire body tenses and I can feel the wet, sticky heat spilling out against my fist and over my fingers. That sensation alone is almost more than I can handle. Panting against his shoulder, I thrust into him twice more before I'm list. A wave of white overtakes me, erasing everything around me as I empty myself completely inside of him.
Coming back down to Earth takes longer than it should. Trembling, I push myself up on my elbows and pull out of him, wincing slightly as I realize that I probably should have waited a minute or two. He makes no move to stop me as I fall to the side, occupying what little space is left between him and the wall.
Now that we're done, I feel dirty and embarrassed. What we did wasn't right, even if it did feel good. I am already regretting the confession that I never wanted to make. That was one more mistake to top off an entire pile of them that I've racked up in the past hour. I know it. I'm sure he does, too. Right now, I can't bring myself to turn and look at him to see for certain. Truth be told, I'm not sure what to do.
Eli doesn't seem to have the same problem. He lets out a shaky sigh, and then asks, "Why didn't you say something?"
"It doesn't matter." The reply is flat. That's true on more levels than one. The confession itself doesn't matter. I know that he doesn't feel the same, and nothing I could say or do will change that. The reasons that I never said anything are equally meaningless and inappropriate. I don't need to burden him with those thoughts right now. Not when he probably doesn't give a damn. He's got worse things to worry about.
And yet, some part of me wishes that he would disagree. I wish he'd tell me that it's mutual, or that he wants to hear what's on my mind or that he doesn't mind if I feel that way. Something. Anything. Instead, he makes no response at all. He just keeps breathing heavily, less than two inches away on the damp sheets.
Being here feels inappropriate. I think that I should go shower off again, if only to get the evidence of what we've just done off my skin. Or maybe to try and make myself feel better, if that's even possible. My muscles ache dully as I move to sit up, heading for the edge of the bed. As I set one foot on the floor, I feel a hand close around one of my wrists.
"Stay," Eli murmurs shakily. The word is halfway between a question and a request, like he isn't sure whether or not he should be saying it. I'm not really sure, either. He tugs on my wrist, pulling me back towards him. I know that I should pull away, but I can't. He still isn't okay. Slowly, I follow the pull and lie down next to him. Even though I'm trying to put a couple of inches between us, he doesn't allow it. Instead, he takes that arm that he has a hold of and wraps it around his waist. His skin is hot under mine.
This is uncomfortable. Not being next to him, but the atmosphere around us. I don't like feeling uneasy like this. Tensing my fingers against the sheet rather than the side of his body, I tell him, "I should go get our clothes out of the bathroom at least."
"Don't bother." He lets out an indelicate snort, seeing through my thin excuse. "I heard the door while we were going at it. Someone's already here."
He doesn't have to explain. Even I get the implications behind that. If someone else has come home, they've probably already discovered our discarded clothes in the bathroom. Six of us living together while on tour, we can't really afford to be too messy. At least in common areas. Scattered clothes from two of us in the shower are pretty obvious. Even when we shower together, we gather our stuff up after, if we didn't leave it in our room in the first place. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out what had happened, or to get the general idea if nothing else. Whoever it was that came back to the suite knows. They may have even heard us.
Ordinarily, I would panic. I would probably jump to my feet and rush out into the living room and try to sort the situation out. Depending on who it was that came home, the situation could be very bad. Right now, though, the only worry I feel is detached and distant. It's hard to formulate solid thoughts when your entire body is trying to shut down and go to sleep.
"What we just did..." I'm not sure how to phrase the thoughts running detachedly through my mind. I can't finish the sentence.
He takes in the words quietly. "Thanks."
"For what?" His response makes no sense to me. My eyes glance down to look at him for the first time since we finished. He doesn't seem upset or bothered, just tired. Tired, and content. That's unexpected.
"I needed that," he breathes. The words feel like an admission, something that he doesn't want to tell anyone. "I needed to... feel wanted."
My heart squeezes painfully at those words. Those words are incredibly personal, and he is telling me something like that with a little half-smile on his lips. What am I supposed to do with that? What am I supposed to do in this kind of situation? It seems like there aren't any right answers, only wrong ones.
"Eli," I start uncertainly, "do y--"
"If you want to talk, it can wait until morning, right?" he asks, cutting me off. Without waiting for an answer, he rolls onto his side, keeping hold of my arm so that I am holding him as he scoots backwards, snuggling against my chest. "I'm tired."
His heavy breaths are soft now, growing deep and even as he drifts off to sleep in my arms. We're going to sleep together like this, on these messy sheets covering my mattress. All of the emotions from the evening seem to be condensing, pressing together into one dark cloud hanging over us.
I wonder if the situation is as disastrous as I imagine that it could be, but somehow I can't seem to get my worries to stick. I should probably regret what we've done, especially since the others will know. That will bring me no end of grief, and it could make things much worse for Eli. Right now, tomorrow is something that I should be dreading. I can't control whatever will happen. No matter what, though, at least I'll start the morning with Eli next to me, even if it's for all the wrong reasons.