Chapter Text
Youngjae had thought the roughest patch of his life would be his trainee years, when the future felt uncertain and the friends he had trained alongside while sharing the same dream could be cut from the lineup at any moment. The pressure to hold onto his spot was immense, and going through puberty at the same time made it ten times worse.
But then he had successfully made his debut, and that should have been the end of it.
Yet it wasn’t.
Debuting brought a whole new wave of stress that Youngjae didn’t know how to handle. He was part of the hyung line, and even then, there was only one member older than him as he and Dohoon were the same age.
The only older member was also the group leader, which meant Junghwan’s role focused on taking care of the younger members—three of them to be exact—leaving Youngjae with no one he could really confide in when the stress hit.
Sometimes he locked himself in the bathroom to cry when he thought nobody was home. Other times when the members were around, he’d take late-night walks, sometimes as late as two in the morning, just to gather his thoughts and slip back into bed before Junghwan—his roommate—woke up and scolded him for wandering off without telling anyone.
That was Junghwan’s thing: with Youngjae, it was always scolding.
Although Junghwan and Dohoon had their fair share of fights, Dohoon—unlike Youngjae—wasn’t afraid to fight back when he felt wronged. Even when he was in the wrong, he’d argue relentlessly until his wrong somehow sounded right. Most of their fights ended with Junghwan apologizing even if he wasn’t the one in the wrong, and the two of them would make up with sweet words rather than any real scolding.
Even with the younger members, Junghwan was always attentive to their concerns and complaints. He doted especially on their maknae, Kyungmin, spending the most time with him whenever they were overseas, the only time Junghwan didn’t have to be stuck with Youngjae all the time.
Junghwan also got along well with Jihoon, who always responded positively to his dad jokes. They rarely fought, which made talking to him easy. Sometimes, they even had deep conversations about the future—because as the leader, Junghwan always had to think ahead about comebacks and promotions, and Jihoon, who was always involved in those activities, shared the same vision and sentiment.
If Youngjae had to pick the nicest, most unproblematic person in the group, it would be Hanjin.
He barely had opinions about anyone, never got into fights, and was the only one who could handle Kyungmin on his hyperactive days—when the maknae ran through everyone’s rooms asking if they’d slept yet, then proceeded to play the loudest, most unhinged instrument despite everyone clearly saying yes, they were sleeping.
Youngjae knew Junghwan loved Hanjin for that. And he did too.
He just wished that Junghwan would also learn to love him a little bit…more.
Back when Youngjae had been going through a rough patch, the two had grown incredibly close during the three months they shared a bed because only Junghwan could handle his tantrums.
But now that Youngjae had grown up and officially joined the hyung line with no more lineup changes to worry about, Junghwan’s attention was fading. Sometimes they went so long without talking that even a brief glance at each other felt awkward.
On camera, they were perfect. Offline, Junghwan was nonchalant, while Youngjae felt like he was always one mental breakdown away from losing it completely from the lack of attention from the leader.
During the winter of 2024, while shooting for their music video Last Festival, that breakdown finally came.
And it only spiraled from there.
What happened next, was something he could have never imagined.
Junghwan hadn’t waited until they got home to confront Youngjae. On the first day of MV shooting, Youngjae had been in a bad mood, Jihoon had been playing around too much, and Youngjae had snapped before he could calm himself.
The sudden conflict ended up affecting everyone. They had to pause filming for the rest of the afternoon because Jihoon ended up crying so much, and Youngjae felt on the verge of tears himself.
In the middle of the mess, Junghwan had glanced at Youngjae before walking past him to console a crying Jihoon. That was when Youngjae felt himself losing it for a second time that afternoon.
“Youngjae-yah!” Dohoon’s voice called out, but Youngjae was too ashamed to look at anyone. Between the noise, the buzzing tension, and the questioning glances from the crew, actors, and his own members, Youngjae bolted from the classroom and ran straight to the bathroom.
He kicked open the last stall, slammed it shut, threw the toilet lid down, and buried his face in his palms.
He barely had a minute to himself before footsteps echoed outside, and a groan escaped him.
“Youngjae-yah, it’s hyung."
Youngjae jerked his head up in surprise. Through the small gap beneath the door, he caught a glimpse of a pair of shoes that definitely belonged to Junghwan’s. Embarrassment flamed his cheeks. How bad had things gotten for Junghwan to come after him? The looming scolding made Youngjae’s chest tighten with dread.
He was already sensitive, and if Junghwan didn’t hold back, Youngjae wasn’t sure he’d survive the second day of filming.
The door rattled, shaking under Junghwan’s insistence.
“Youngjae. I won’t ask a second time. Open the door.”
Youngjae scrambled to his feet, Junghwan’s voice commanding him in a way he couldn’t disobey. He turned the knob and pushed the door open, his own force fueled by anger. But fear replaced anger the moment he met Junghwan’s cold, steady gaze—eyes hard and unyielding.
“What’s been going on with you lately?” Junghwan’s eyes narrowed, the look that always preceded a scolding. “Jihoon’s the third person you’ve fought with this week, and it’s only Thursday. Are you on a personal mission to tick everyone off?”
Youngjae felt as if he had been punched in the gut. Junghwan had yelled at him countless times before, but this was the first time he sounded completely done.
“...I’m sorry.”
It was all Youngjae could manage to say. As the hyung of the group, the responsible one who sometimes took over leadership when Junghwan wasn’t around, he wasn’t supposed to throw tantrums. He was meant to keep the group together, to protect the members. There was no excuse for his behavior, even if he didn’t feel entirely at fault.
His hands shook as he forced himself to maintain eye contact. Junghwan didn’t look even slightly moved by the apology, though a flicker—a tiny spark of concern—passed through his eyes before he let out a tired sigh.
“You know, if you want something, you can just say it,” Junghwan said lowly, running a hand over the back of his head. “I’d do anything for you.” His gaze darkened, the words carrying a weight that sounded like more than it should.
“You just have to say the word, Youngjae-yah.”
I want you to look at me. I want you to take care of me too. Youngjae wanted to say, but it would be too demanding, too selfish. The younger members needed Junghwan’s attention more than he did. So he chewed his lips, swallowed the words, and shook his head.
“It’s fine. I can handle it on my own. Don’t worry about it, hyung.”
The second time Junghwan confronted him was at midnight, after everyone had returned to the dorm from a schedule. He and Junghwan had lost at rock paper scissors, ending up last and second-to-last for the shower order, so they were lounging in the living room, passing time on their phones.
Then Junghwan suddenly called him.
“Youngjae-yah, follow me to the room.”
He was already standing, his stern look leaving no room for argument. Youngjae cast a nervous glance at Dohoon, who only looked back confusedly before shrugging and returning to drying his hair with Youngjae’s towels.
Youngjae hesitated, then got up and followed Junghwan, his steps cautious and quiet.
Once inside the room, Junghwan closed the door and for the first time, Youngjae felt knots twist in his stomach.
He locked the door.
The sound echoed in the quiet space between them, making Youngjae’s heart race and his stomach lurch. Then Junghwan’s demeanor shifted. He smirked, almost cocky, and backed Youngjae against the door, one hand braced against the wall, the other resting on Youngjae’s shoulder.
The position left no room to escape, forcing Youngjae to meet Junghwan’s gaze.
“I know what you want, Youngjae-yah,” Junghwan said, his voice low and steady. He tilted his head, smirking. “You want my attention, don’t you?”
Youngjae’s heart leapt, his breathing coming in heavy, uneven bursts as Junghwan’s words cut through the air. His stomach twisted, burning under the weight of Junghwan’s intense gaze.
He couldn’t bring himself to speak, but the unsteady rise and fall of his chest, the flush in his cheeks, spoke volumes. Junghwan’s lips curved into a knowing smile, as if he had known everything all along—probably even before he had locked them in here together.
“That’s why you were acting like a brat, weren't you, Youngjae?” he purred, his hand sliding from Youngjae’s shoulder to his neck, thumb tracing the soft skin there.
Youngjae’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, shivering, only for Junghwan to snap at him, voice firm and commanding.
“Don’t take your eyes off me.”
Suppressing a groan, Youngjae opened them again. His gaze was glassy, shimmering with want, as he forced himself to meet Junghwan’s, who had moved so close that their noses were nearly touching.
“Is that why you’ve been acting like a brat? Because you wanted my attention?” Junghwan’s tone was sharp, almost cruel, making Youngjae want to whimper. He bit down hard on his lips, earning a click of disapproval from Junghwan.
“Don’t hurt yourself like that, Youngjae-yah. You know how much it hurts my heart when you’re in pain,” Junghwan murmured, thumb brushing over the faint bite mark on Youngjae’s bottom lip before pulling away.
Youngjae’s breath hitched, eyes on the verge of closing again, when Junghwan said something that made his heart stutter and his thoughts vanish entirely.
“I can take care of you, Youngjae-yah,” Junghwan purred, voice low, smooth, and seductive. His eyes glinted darkly as his expression turned serious. “I can take care of you real good, if that’s what you want.”
“Hyung…what do you mean?” Youngjae’s words came out dry and raspy, scraping against his throat. His heart hammered wildly in his chest, the thump of his pulse echoing loud in his ears. He coughed, a choked, nervous sound that betrayed his nerves.
Junghwan’s eyes darkened, heavy with intent, as he caressed Youngjae’s face with a tender touch. His expression remained unreadable, a mask of quiet hunger. Then, a faint smile curved his lips—small, almost a smirk.
His thumb trailed from Youngjae’s cheek to brush against his lips, gaze locked intently, testing the boundaries, waiting to see if the younger would pull away.
Youngjae didn’t.
Junghwan’s grin widened as he pressed his thumb between his lips. Youngjae parted them obediently, allowing the finger to slide inside, pressing down on his tongue—salty and tangy, invading his mouth.
“I said I can take care of you, if you want me to,” Junghwan rasped, his voice low and deep, vibrating with promise. He added his index finger next, sliding it in alongside the first.
Youngjae’s eyes widened in startled surprise, but he held still, breath hitching. Moments later, he grew bolder, letting his tongue swirl around the digits, getting them nice and wet as Junghwan pulled back slightly just to thrust them harder in his mouth.
Junghwan continued the motions, pulling and thrusting until Youngjae got used to the rhythm. In a moment of sudden courage, he started to bob his head up and down before sucking hard, drawing a raw growl from Junghwan’s throat.
With a wet pop, Junghwan withdrew his fingers. Youngjae whined low at the sudden emptiness, his head tilting forward instinctively to chase them.
Junghwan chuckled, the sound low and laced with dark amusement as he moved his fingers downwards. Youngjae's eyes tracked them hungrily, his throat bobbing with a rough swallow when Junghwan shifted those slick digits to his belt. The metal buckle clinked open, leather whipping through the loops before it slapped the floor with a sharp crack that shot heat straight to Youngjae's groin.
“Get on your knees, Youngjae-yah.”
Youngjae dropped to his knees without hesitation, staring up at Junghwan with wide, eager eyes. Saliva still glistened at the corners of his lips. Junghwan hummed in approval, then let out another dark chuckle as he towered over him.
He seized Youngjae by the hair and yanked him forward just as he bucked his hips. Youngjae's muffled groan vibrated against the rough denim as his face smashed into Junghwan's crotch. Confusion flickered through him until Junghwan began grinding hard, pinning Youngjae's head in place with an iron grip that refused to yield.
Youngjae tilted his face, pressing his open mouth directly against the thickening bulge straining the fabric. He swallowed a moan, forcing himself to stay quiet as he parted his lips wider, letting Junghwan rut into the wet heat of his mouth over the jeans.
From above, Junghwan's breaths came in heavy pants. He eased his thrusts to a deliberate drag, smearing his clothed cock along Youngjae's cheek. Their gazes locked—Youngjae's wide and innocent, Junghwan's dark and wild with lust.
Quiet footsteps padded toward the door, snapping the tension. Junghwan jerked Youngjae back by the hair, and a desperate whine nearly escaped before Junghwan slapped a hand over his mouth, clamping down hard. His glare bored into Youngjae, stern and unyielding.
With his free hand, Junghwan pressed a finger to his lips, signaling silence. Youngjae nodded frantically, heart pounding.
A knock rattled the door.
“Junghwan hyung, it’s your turn to shower,” Hanjin's voice called, casual and oblivious.
The footsteps retreated without pause. Once the sound faded, Junghwan peeled his palm away from Youngjae's mouth.
“Good boy,” Junghwan murmured, voice thick with satisfaction as he cupped Youngjae's cheek, thumb stroking gently. Youngjae leaned into the touch with a soft keen, nuzzling like a contented cat.
“Behave for me tomorrow, and I'll let you suck my dick properly.”
Junghwan’s smile twisted wickedly before he turned, snatching up his clothes and striding out without a second glance. Youngjae stayed on his knees, breath ragged, mind spinning.
What the fuck just happened?