Work Text:
Jihoon is pretty sure his stupid solo song is going to kill him before he manages to get any good lyrics written. He has a vague melody, six empty Coke Zero cans scattered around his desk, and not much else. And he's not exactly obligated to finish the song the way he is with songs for the group, but the company had given him a very narrow timeline for if he ever wanted a solo, and he does. The fans have been waiting, and even the members have asked him about it on multiple occasions. He's just getting fucked over by good old writer's block.
Of course, Chan chooses this moment to waltz into the studio with six different shopping bags. It's cute, the way his face scrunches up as he takes in the absolute mess Jihoon's managed to make of the place in the four consecutive days he's been holed up in here. He looks significantly better than Jihoon does, dressed in a thin sweater and ripped blue jeans as opposed to the black jeans and hoodie combo Jihoon's been wearing for the last week. There's a slight blush on his cheeks, like he just walked in from the chilly weather outside and headed straight for the studio.
"Ugh, hyung, have you even seen the sun today?" Chan settles himself down on the couch, ignoring Jihoon's mumbled threat to leave. He's developed a total disrespect for authority over the years; the fact that they've been dating for three years probably hasn't helped it.
Jihoon's being a bitch, really; he's grateful for Chan's company. He likes to think he's gotten a better idea of when he's been holed up too long and probably needs a little human interaction. Sometimes real human conversation is the difference between a song, and something that sounds like like it was written at 3am on an unhealthy amount of energy drinks.
"Did Seungcheol send you?" Seungcheol likes to do this sometimes, sending Chan or Mingyu or Soonyoung in to nag at Jihoon for a little bit and drop off food. Proof of life.
"As a matter of fact, no," Chan says, "I just wanted to show you what I got today. Went shopping with Shua hyung and Soonyoung hyung."
"Why."
Chan ignores him, already pulling out a new jacket and waxing on about the fabric quality. Jihoon has half a mind to turn right back around and put his headphones on until Chan notices and throws something at him. But, he sits there and listens. Chan takes his sweet time, pulling out all of his new clothes and shoes and telling Jihoon about Joshua getting talked into paying for this shirt and how his new earrings would go with this shirt, and how Soonyoung told Channie to drop by to annoy Jihoon for him—
"Wait, what?" Jihoon frowns. Chan quirks an eyebrow, mischief edging over his expression as he latches onto his offended tone. God fucking damn it. He's going to give Soonyoung zero lines on the next album, watch him.
"Oh, that's what got your attention out of everything I just said?"
Jihoon purses his lips, but Chan, accurately sniffing out an opportunity, flops to one side on the sofa and looks at Jihoon with his head hanging over the side, eyes wide and guileless like he's genuinely hurt instead of just being a brat.
"Hyuuung— am I not enough to keep you company? You like Soonyoung more than me, don't you," he says mournfully.
"Don't be stupid," he says shortly, snorting when Chan immediately switches track and gives him an impressive eye roll. Surprisingly, he doesn't throw another retort his way, so Jihoon takes that as his cue to turn back around before Chan comes up with something else to distract him.
He taps out an aimless beat on the surface of his desk as Chan loudly rustles through his shopping bags yet again, tossing aside the jackets he'd been so pleased about just now. There's the sound of a box being opened and thrown back into a bag, and the soft click of a lid.
"I forgot to show you one more thing," Chan says casually, and Jihoon can hear the smile in his voice that tells him he's lying. He turns around in his chair again with a sigh. Chan's holding something in his hand— he brings it up to his mouth to swipe across his lips, and oh—
It's lipstick, something Chan literally never buys. Jihoon would really like to change that now, because the color is a vivid ruby red against his natural lip color, and in the dim lighting of the studio, it makes his sharp gaze seem burning hot. He can't get his eyes off Chan's mouth as he smears the red around messily with his thumb. He has to be doing it on purpose. Jihoon swallows, mouth abruptly dry.
"They gave it as a free gift with the perfume Shua hyung got." Chan pretends to examine the pigment on his fingers, and then Jihoon catches the little smirk that flashes across his face like a lightning strike.
Ah, he wants a game. The posturing and the chatter and the shopping, all calculated steps in whatever little scheme he had in his head before even stepping foot in the studio. Probably before he even got out of bed in the morning. His baby is the type of person to go into each day with a plan.
Jihoon catches Chan's eyes following him as he stands up from his seat and strides across the studio to where he's sprawled on the sofa. In this position, Jihoon can tangle his fist in soft brown hair, yank his head back to expose the pale line of his throat. Up close, he can see the tremble in each breath, the way he's practically vibrating from anticipation.
"You planned this, hmm?" Chan tries to shake his head no, even as a smug grin tugs on the corners of his stained mouth. Jihoon closes his other hand around Chan's wrist and tugs the lipstick out of his hands, twisting the bullet down and tossing it aside. He whines, trying to turn his head in the direction Jihoon threw it.
"Shush, I'll buy you another one."
"It was new."
"Answer my question, Chan-ah."
Chan glares up at him, then jerks when Jihoon tightens his grip on his hair and shoves a knee between his thighs— already open and waiting. He's already half hard in his jeans. Slut. Was probably working himself up the whole time he was talking, thinking about how he was going to pull off his plan. Jihoon lets him rut against his leg once, twice, then pulls away, raising an eyebrow at the distinct lack of an answer.
"I have work to do," he says flatly, "and since you can't even answer a basic question, I don't think you deserve to take up the time I could be using to write this song."
"Didn't look like you were doing much writing," Chan snarks, whining again when Jihoon clicks his tongue and fully pulls away, crossing his arms.
If he had the time, this would be when he'd shove two fingers in Chan's mouth and use the rest of the night to fuck the brattiness out of his system, but he has a deadline to meet.
There are other ways to punish Chan, though, and Jihoon knows his baby inside and out. He wants attention right now, whether in the form of a bruising kiss or sharp order. The makeup and the talking back would work in his favor most days, and they both know it. Right now, though:
"Try again when you're ready to behave, Lee Chan."
His mouth drops open in indignation, but Jihoon is already turning on his heel and returning to his seat, picking up his pen again. He puts his headphones over his ears just to be petty, since he can tell Chan's probably running his mouth under his breath behind him. He still doesn't get a lot written, but the image of ruby lips gives him something to work with.
Something about red, and the crackle of electricity running up his spine every time his mind wanders back to Chan behind him.
Fifteen minutes pass, then half an hour, and Jihoon gets all the way to humming out the rough chorus he has and debating if he should reach for his guitar, when a hand on his knee interrupts him. He smiles. That was longer than he expected Chan to hold out, but he was always going to crack eventually.
Chan stares up at him with glassy eyes, knees tucked neatly under him like how Jihoon trained him.
He's not completely put together— Jihoon sees the unbuttoned jeans and the wet patch on Chan's shirt like he'd been chewing on the hem. His throat is a light shade of pink now; Jihoon wants to press into the warm skin and watch his fingers leave marks.
"Dirty puppy, touching yourself in the studio just because I'm not giving you attention?" he murmurs, trailing his foot up Chan's thigh. "Your hyungs all sit on that couch, Chan-ah."
He smiles at the way Chan nuzzles his face against his leg, pressing his cheek against the denim of Jihoon's jeans. "I'm sorry, hyung, please touch me?"
Jihoon pulls his headphones down and cocks his brow. "What're you sorry for?"
They've done this so many times, but he still feels the same rush of heat in his stomach, watching Chan bite back the the urge to talk back and place his hands carefully in his lap. His baby is all defined edges and hard muscle these days, but Jihoon's the only one who gets to mold him into something quiet and obedient, just for him.
He can't help himself from touching, cupping Chan's cheek indulgently. "Sorry for… for teasing, 'nd talking back to hyung."
"You going to be good now?" Chan's hair flops up and down as he nods frantically, mouth opening a little in his eagerness. Jihoon presses his thumb into his bottom lip and holds his hand up to show Chan the red transferred over to his hand.
"How are you going to explain this, though? Plotting like this when you knew I've been working, and now you're making me a mess when I've barely touched you, baby." Chan looks like he's on the verge of tears at Jihoon's disappointed tone, nudging at his hand to try and get his fingers back in his hair. "Stay still," he orders.
Chan looks like he's holding his breath as he lets Jihoon grip his chin with one hand and wipe the lipstick on his cheek. He taps two fingers expectantly on Chan's lips, and he sucks them into his mouth immediately, tongue warm and wet and working expertly to soak Jihoon's fingers with saliva. He gets showy with it, egged on by the weight of Jihoon's undivided attention, letting his eyes flutter shut and letting tiny whimpers escape his mouth. It's a filthy image, but Chan still looks beautiful, like he always does.
An idea pops into Jihoon's head while he watches even more lipstick smear at the base of his fingers and all over his knuckles. He pulls his fingers out and ignores Chan's unhappy whine when he wipes them clean on his jeans.
"Go bring over a pillow and the lipstick, puppy. You're going to make it up to me."
He watches unabashedly as Chan crawls across the studio. It's a good view, and nobody is going to catch him staring, sue him. Chan rummages through the throw pillows before he finds the one he always goes for when they do this, and the lipstick tucked in between two shopping bags. His ears are bright red as he shuffles unsteadily back to Jihoon with the pillow tucked tightly to his chest.
Jihoon rolls his chair back; Chan gets under the desk wordlessly, eyes wide as he stares up at him. Jihoon motions for the lipstick and reapplies it as carefully as he can. Chan's eyes close again on instinct from years of both of them getting their makeup done and scolded for blinking too much. He does an alright job, but neatness isn't his priority here. Chan's pretty enough to make up for clumsy application, anyways.
"Eyes up here." Chan looks up from where he's been staring hazily at the growing bulge in Jihoon's jeans. "Gotta ask for what you want, baby."
He smiles at the way it takes Chan a few seconds to form coherent words, his tongue darting out to wet his red lips. "Hyung. Want you— want your cock in my mouth."
Ignoring the way his dick twitches in interest, Jihoon feigns hurt, huffing slightly. "Just my cock?"
"Hyung."
"Alright, alright," he laughs, ruffling Chan's hair as he unbuttons his jeans, "Good boy, using your words properly. I'll give you what you want, yeah?"
Despite the front he's put up, Jihoon groans when Chan deftly unzips his jeans and pulls his half-hard cock out, the air-conditioned room a shock to sensitive skin. He's more pent up than he realized, having stuck to a routine of studio, gym, and sleep all week.
Chan wastes no time in pressing a kiss to the head before replacing his lips with his tongue, swirling it languidly as he strokes Jihoon to full hardness with one hand. They've been together for years, but Jihoon still gets fucked up by how eager Chan is, drooling all over his cock and letting his eyes roll back every time Jihoon's fingers tighten involuntarily in his hair, and his hips jerk further into his throat.
Chan must not be completely cockdrunk yet, because he looks up at a particularly loud moan from Jihoon with a glint in his eye, and starts teasing, pulling all the way off and pressing sticky kisses down the underside of his dick. He's got lipstick all over his face, the red smearing down his chin mixing with saliva and precome. Jihoon lets him have his fun for a bit, then yanks Chan's head back again.
"Hyung, mm, please, I'll behave this time," Chan whines. Jihoon tilts his head, then drags one foot over the tent in Chan's pants, smirking when he gasps and arches into the touch.
"So worked up from being a little tease," he observes, keeping a firm grip on Chan, who's trying his best to get his mouth back on his cock. "Did I give you permission to get off, though?"
"Couldn't help it, been waiting all day— hyung, hyung, please," Chan pants wetly, his hands curled into fists by his side. Jihoon shoves three fingers into his mouth at once, reaching until Chan is gagging around them, eyes glazing over.
"Stay still, cockslut, and let me fuck your face first," he grunts, using his spit-soaked fingers to pump down his cock a couple of times before thrusting into Chan's open mouth.
He should turn his microphone on, record all the high-pitched moans Chan is making in between the slick sounds of Jihoon's cock hitting the back of his throat over and over, letting him feel all of him in a way they rarely get to do with their schedule.
"So good like this, made to be on your knees, huh?" he taunts, "Bet you'd love it if I kept you here like this every day, just a little toy for me. Send you home every day covered in my come."
A tear leaks out of Chan's eyes as he garbles something around Jihoon's cock, agreement, or maybe he's trying to defend himself, even as he presses himself forward to hump Jihoon's leg needily. His own desperate puppy. Probably doesn't even notice himself doing it with how mindless he gets with a cock in his mouth.
He gets close faster than usual— the combination of his own need to come, Chan's desperation, and the sight of his mouth getting fucked open, covered in lipstick and drool.
"Getting close, baby," he pants, abandoning any sense of rhythm and thrusting harshly into Chan's mouth.
He comes with a drawn out moan, throwing his head back and feeling Chan's throat tighten as he tries to swallow everything Jihoon's giving him. A little spills out from the corner of his mouth from how much Jihoon's come, and slides down to his chin to join the mess he's already made of his face.
"Fuck, good boy, good puppy," Jihoon groans, "Get yourself off now, okay?"
Chan whimpers out a thank you, hyung, the words slurring together, and grinds gracelessly on Jihoon's leg, keening and whining with every rough slide of his cock against rough denim. From his teary eyes, he doesn't seem to even register the come and spit all over his face, and if Jihoon hadn't just come down his throat, he'd be a lot more affected by the sight of his boyfriend.
I should take a photo, he thinks, and the thought is so fucking insane— he's never the one to suggest these, he's not Mingyu or Soonyoung or Jeonghan, but Chan looks so pretty like this, all fucked-out and getting off on his knees just because Jihoon said so.
He fumbles for his phone, and Chan figures out what he's doing almost instantly, moaning his name as he opens his camera app and takes a photo just like this, his softening cock still out and come all over Chan's face. "So pretty, baby, look like this just for me," he mumbles.
And then, because he's clearly lost it and Chan's just sucked the filter right out of his brain: "Or— maybe not just for me, huh, puppy? Should I send this to the hyungs? Show Soonyoungie what his baby's doing?"
Chan chokes on a breath, eyes widening from where they'd almost been shut, and incredibly, obviously, comes in his boxers with a high gasp muffled into Jihoon's thigh. His face is a deep red by the time he lifts it again, the last aftershocks of his orgasm leaving his body.
"Let's clean you up, Channie," Jihoon says gently. Chan allows himself to get picked up and deposited back onto the couch, face wiped clean with the towel Jihoon keeps specifically for this purpose, and half a water bottle Jihoon makes him finish while he sorts himself out.
Chan tugs meekly on the hem of his hoodie after he sits down, and Jihoon automatically opens his arms so Chan can crawl into his lap, tucking his head into the crook of his neck.
"So… the photo thing, hm?" Jihoon chuckles, laughing out loud when Chan groans and hits his chest weakly.
"It was hot, shut up," he complains, "Besides, you said it, not me."
(He doesn't tell Chan, but Jihoon has the photo on his mind the whole time he writes the lyrics for Ruby. Chan figures it out anyway, and is very smug about it.)
(By the time the song is released, half the members know, because Chan told Seungkwan told Jeonghan told Seungcheol, and things unravel from there. He gets shit on by Soonyoung for months.
"It was worth it, though," Chan grins, rewatching the music video. Jihoon can't even argue, because he's right.)