(dance) don't hold the wall

sehun is the little spoon when he wakes up. arms that are not his are crossed around his torso. there's a hard on pressed against the small of his back. romantic. he swallows dryly and tries to wade out of bed, but the arms tense around him, fingers curling into his flesh like pincers.

"i should go," sehun whispers, "before your roommate wakes up."

jongin noses the nape of his neck, breathing him in. "where were you last night? you came to bed so late, smelling like smoke."

"i really have to go," sehun says blithely.

"busy day?" jongin asks equally casually, relenting. falling back. sehun straightens up and starts to pull his discarded clothes from the floor.

sehun makes a noncommittal sound even as jongin's fingernails drag against his scalp. caught by the shorthairs. he's done this so long he's not even sure what he'd do on a night left to himself. after everything, this is where he comes to finish. back here. it's a routine.

"if all you're gonna do is sleep," jongin calls when sehun is at the door and waits for sehun to turn and see him scratch his belly lazily before he adds, "don't bother coming back tonight."

sehun huffs at the hair falling into his eyes and fidgets. "shit, i was tired. it happens to the best of us. why are you getting all weird about it?"

"are you tired now?" jongin asks, getting up on his elbows and grinning predatorily.




the scratch of the matchstick against the matchbook and the ensuing flare mesmerise sehun. it's a cold day and the little fire is the only source of heat and light in a world of grey.

"you're late," junmyeon says amicably around the cigarette caught in his teeth. his perfect pearly whites.

sehun shrugs. he rubs at the back of his neck with a freezing palm. goosebumps break out over his skin and he tries to still the shiver by clenching his teeth and tightening his stomach. fuck.

"you can't be late, you know that right?"

sehun chews at the inside of his mouth before he snaps, "what does it matter? you lied about the time anyway."

junmyeon smirks. "well, if i hadn't, you'd be late, wise-ass."

"whatever," sehun mutters.

junmyeon stares at him with a mixture of amusement and disbelief for a brief moment. then he chuckles and tousles sehun's hair.

sulking, sehun ducks away from him and tries to fix his mussed hair. "don't try to do that to someone obviously taller than you."

"don't disrespect a hyung even if he's slightly shorter than you." junmyeon is smiling though, cherubic and good-natured, before he throws away the cigarette he hadn't even smoked and turns towards the building behind him. "come on. let's get this thing started."




the first time sehun clapped eyes on jongin, he'd been dancing. he had the grace of a panther on the prowl. something dark and sinewy and velveteen. right then. he'd seen jongin and jongin had seen him. it was all over. that was it.

in the dark of a muggy club, jongin was a beast in all the terrible, overwhelming ways, a stomping, devouring, ferocious creature with eyes like madness. he was a hot mouth and frantic hands, burning the oxygen from within sehun's lungs like they were running out of air. it was arson and sehun went quickly like a house engulfed and scorched to the black, charred bones.

they'd lined up so perfectly, head to sweaty head, tangled and fighting like stags butting antlers and jongin was panting against him, snarling something obscene, his grip on sehun so tight like he was going to wring everything out of him. leave nothing behind.

sehun remembers falling to his knees, spent and shaking and blank as a sheet. he clutched at the only anchor he found-- jongin's leg before him, the toe of his boot slick against the underside of sehun's oversensitive, twitching, softening cock.

he looked up at jongin just in time for jongin to choke his red, stiff erection into sehun's open mouth.

sehun remembers the spunk spilling at the seam of his lips like cream, remembers his fingers sticky around jongin's dick, remembers jongin looking at him with eyes like an abyss, like sehun had pushed him over the edge. and killed him.




"you're like a dog," junmyeon says in fascination, watching sehun pick at the barbecued meat and roll it into a lettuce leaf carefully.

sehun stuffs the parcel into his mouth. "thanks."

"no, i mean, it's like you're lost. and if someone were to take you in, feed you properly and get you cleaned up, you'd miraculously turn out to be prize-winning pedigree."

"so take me in," sehun challenges, swallowing and staring at junmyeon defiantly.

"you're too young for me," junmyeon says affably. almost too quickly, too nonchalantly. "but i will get you a job and make sure you keep it if it's the last thing i do."

"good luck with that," sehun grunts, going back to the food.

it's a few moments before junmyeon speaks again, slow and thoughtful. "someone lost you. you strayed. they made a mistake. and so did you."

it cuts right to sehun's heart and he curses inwardly, mouth full and soul empty. he feels like a chasm. depthless. a yawning vacuum. he wants what junmyeon has to offer but won't, kept fast against his chest. he doesn't want what junmyeon is offering.

"mistakes make us who we are," sehun says roughly. he clears his throat and looks junmyeon in the eye when he says, "if i hadn't made mine, you wouldn't have made me your charity case. and then where would i be?"

junmyeon rests his chin in his palm and smiles at sehun, echoing, "and then where would you be."




the couch smells funny. like milk gone off. sehun wonders when that happened. he's lying face down on it, pressing into the rough fabric.

from somewhere behind him jongin says, "reach back and hold your ankles."

sehun lifts his legs and makes a grab. he misses. jongin corrects sehun's posture as he exhales into a lump in the couch. "are we going to have sex or?"

"yes," jongin says patiently. "i am going to fuck your ass like a professional."

"i got a desk job," sehun says and it comes out muffled. "so be careful. it's at a publishing house and they're going to train me to design book covers on a computer."

"sounds deathly boring. i'd rather die," jongin sounds triumphant. "but modelling isn't so bad."

sehun lifts his hips up when jongin reaches under him to unbutton his jeans. it sticks around his knees and ankles, but with some tugging, the denim comes free. he holds his ankles again. a point in the centre of his back starts to ache.

"do you fuck any of the other models?" sehun asks uncertainly.

"no, but there's this one guy," jongin pauses, sounding breathless. "fuck he's gorgeous. every time i see him i imagine the three of us together. it'd be a fantasy come to life if we both got to play with him."

sehun bites his lip and tries not to tense up as jongin runs a wet finger down the cleft of his ass. "why do you want to fuck me right now?"

"i need a reason with you now?" jongin's voice sounds strained. sehun can feel jongin's breath, warm and damp against the base of his spine. "i'm gonna give you a pounding, make you come without touching your cock and milk you until you're empty. fuck, i'm already so hard just --fuck. you've ruined me."




they almost kiss. jongin never kisses him. sehun closes his eyes and holds his breath. there is a sickening self-righteousness with which junmyeon pulls himself away and relieves sehun of the bottle in his hands. it's junmyeon's treat. celebrating the job. the death of ambition.

"i need you," sehun wheedles. he's drunk, but fuck if junmyeon isn't drunk as well. they can afford a risk. there's a cure for aids now, so the worst thing that could happen has been taken care of. "i need a man like you. someone who treats me right. with respect. and--and affection."

"and exactly what qualifies me to be that man?" junmyeon asks, voice cracking over the last syllable. then he burps softly. and laughs like it's the most hysterical thing he's ever heard.

"you've fed me," sehun pauses to count. "more than twice."

junmyeon stares at him, still smiling. always smiling. "you are such a stray."

"so put a leash on me." sehun can't seem to tear his gaze away from the inky vee of the tight, black denim between junmyeon's legs. there's a place for him. there. somewhere. "take me home with you."

that sobers junmyeon up. he pulls sehun closer by his tie. he lowers his gaze to sehun's lips as though it's gravity, he can't help himself and licks his own lips. his breath hitches slightly. "you're still too young for me."

"you--," sehun grumbles. "why don't you ever shut the fuck up and kiss me?"

"because i know you." junmyeon lets him go and backs off. "you're trying to fuck this up and i won't let you. you know how i light a cigarette but don't smoke it? i can taste it from between my teeth through the paper. the smell and the feel of it are more than enough. if i just pretend, i don't actually need the hit."

"that is bullshit," sehun says and closes the distance between them to kiss junmyeon, bracing himself against junmyeon's knees that spread open under him. sehun sidles into the nook warm and drowsy and junmyeon's soft moan fuses their wet mouths together. sehun draws it out and sucks him in, catching junmyeon's lower lip in his teeth as he pulls away. they gasp at each other, a shared, breathless plea. sehun can't even bear to look at him anymore. he's so done for. junmyeon rubs a wondering knuckle along sehun's cheek.

"once you do, you never," sehun whispers into his mouth, "ever, stop needing it."




sehun goes four days without answering his phone. that's four nights he spends alone in bed. he wonders if junmyeon smiles at everyone he meets like that. he wonders if junmyeon stares in exasperation at anyone else like that.

jongin only calls him once.




the door in front of sehun is suspiciously blank. he always imagined junmyeon's front door as being a warm, latte coloured wood. the door in front of him is white. it has the plastic numbers 6 and 5 on it.

"are you ever going to ring the doorbell?" junmyeon asks from the other side making sehun jump.

"fuck!" sehun recoils. he seriously considers running away. this is ten times harder sober.

it's almost as though junmyeon reads his mind because the door swings open inwards. "come on in."

he's dressed in a loose black shirt and comfortable looking grey pants. he's so goddamn handsome in this clean, fresh as laundry way. it's the first time sehun allows himself to think it. his own jeans seem ratty and grimy in comparison.

"how long were you at the door?" sehun asks, shucking his backpack on the floor by the TV and following junmyeon to the kitchen.

"long enough," junmyeon smirks. "hey, it's okay. asking you over to my place for a first date wasn't fair."

sehun takes in the white tiles, the steaming bowls of food. "you're a dick."

"hope you like pasta," junmyeon says, handing sehun a huge serving.

"is this," sehun lifts fat strings of fettucine with his chopsticks, "part of the whole junmyeon dating experience?"

"no, not yet," junmyeon feigns seriousness. "this is a test. checking if you're a prize winner."

"if you keep calling me a dog, the joke's on you because you made out with this dog. you like this dog. you want to have sex with this dog." sehun's only half annoyed. the food's pretty good. it's like junmyeon; warm and filling and wholesome.

"i like you, oh sehun," junmyeon says quietly, sounding pleased.

sehun feels his face heat up stupidly. they're sitting on the floor so he crawls the short distance and pushes himself between junmyeon's legs. nowhere else to go.

on his knees, he cups junmyeon's face with both hands and it's a surprisingly tender gesture. what really breaks him is that junmyeon lets him. he finds his voice shaking a little when he says, "i like you, too."

junmyeon closes his eyes and kisses sehun first this time. he surges forward, coming away from deep, slow, incredibly intimate kisses with soft, chuffing sounds. sehun feels grounded, like he can't move, can't bring himself to galvanise this into something more.

junmyeon sucks on sehun's lower lip, his thumb stroking his right cheekbone, fingers splayed along his throat.

"hey," he says, voice lower and slightly rougher than usual, "you should know, casual sex is off the table, okay? it is never on the table. i don't do that."

“okay but can the serious sex be on the table sometimes? i like a change of scenery every now and then, old man.”

junmyeon sucks wet kisses along sehun's jaw, making him shiver. he holds and touches sehun like he's made of glass. like he can't get enough of touching sehun. it feels wonderful.

"if you're here," junmyeon says hands settling at sehun's hips, just above the waistband of his jeans. his grip is steadying, like a hook. "you're only here. all the way."




"so your phone does work!" jongin laughs.

sehun feels his heart rate escalate so fast he gets a little light-headed. "i've been busy. new -- new job. you know how it is. how are you?"

"that's great," jongin says brightly. "listen, i'm happy for you even though you're an asshole. and i can take a hint but are you free tonight? for old times' sake?"

"no," sehun hesitates. it's the first time he's heard jongin sounds desperate. "yeah i have this work thing but i'll try to drop by after."

"great," jongin chuckles. "you're a terrible fucking liar."

it's when he sees jongin's face later that evening that sehun realisest. it's over. his eyelashes look wet, like he's been crying. sehun's stomach turns to lead, gut twisting into a knot.

"i get it," jongin says curtly by way of greeting. "we're twenty. you lost interest or something. fucking youtube attention spans. shit happens."

jongin spins him around, pressing him into the door. sehun smiles into the crook of his arm as jongin slides around him, a snake, the twisting arms of a vine, poisonous.

"fuck you," jongin whispers in his ear, gripping sehun like a heart attack. "we were better than anything you or i could've imagined and you threw it away. it was something beyond words. you know that. you felt it, too. every time i saw you spread out, pink and breaking under me, it was like a punch to the gut. that sight -- you -- it was everything in the world to me."

"it'd be so much easier to believe," sehun says tightly, half afraid, half choking with something like sadness, "if you could actually bear to look at me when you say something like that."

jongin steps back like he's been slapped and sehun is grateful for the walls because he's certain his legs would've given away. this is it, though. he can never come back here. never return to the wild, heated, blind want jongin has from him. it's a different kind of love he's losing, sehun realises. everything about him that meets the eye is more than enough for jongin. everything beneath the surface has already been accepted, and all sehun had had to do was share.

"wait," sehun says hurriedly, turning to face jongin, panic rising like a tide in his chest. "no, no, not like this alright?"




it's a comforting vice. waking up to a certain shade of brown. sehun opens his eyes to the last day of a bare-chested, vulnerable jongin. asleep, he's defenceless. less teeth, more skin. he looks like someone sehun could grow to love behind all the senseless shit.

jongin never kisses him. there's something about a press of lips, sehun thinks, that demands some kind of honesty. to his surprise, jongin kisses him back. it's a passive, receptive response from him, lips simply falling open. totally unlike his usual hungry, demanding, dominating push.

"you're awake," sehun whispers, moving to straddle jongin's hips.

"yeah," he says dryly, hands settling around sehun's waist.

"you never kiss me," sehun says, searching jongin's face. he can't make out what he's thinking.

"you never asked," jongin shrugs.

"i thought it was simpler than that," sehun says, drawing little lines with his fingers at all the points his skin meets jongin's.

"it was always complicated," jongin frowns. "you know it was. you always just let me happen to you. every time we fucked i struggled for you to respond. i actually worked for it, every single time." he clenches his hands into fists at sehun's sides. "i hate you. always have."

"tell the truth, kim jongin," sehun says in a voice unlike his own, thick as honey, false. "it was the opposite of hate. always has been."

jongin's face crumples and he cries.




the thick of winter brings an onslaught of cold that pretty much incapacitates junmyeon. he turns into a hermit, stepping out for only what he absolutely can't do from home.

they waste away sunday afternoons playing go-stop! and eating mandarins.

"does this make me your boyfriend now?" sehun asks, poking a roughly junmyeon-sized roll of blankets with his foot.

“your feet are freezing,” junmyeon says, muffled, rolling away. "but, yes."