The desire pooling inside him had turned Yeon Haejeong’s eyes glassy, and he exhaled a heavy, ragged breath. Whether it was the alcohol or not, the arousal needling at his side felt sharper than usual, and his head was starting to swim. Unable to stand the state of his unruly lower half, Yeon Haejeong muttered curse after curse — fuck, fuck — wounded pride and all, as his hand slowly crept downward.
He hadn’t touched himself since middle school. He’d never needed to — whenever he wanted it, there was always someone there. But his breathing was picking up on its own, and a pull was tightening low in his abdomen. It was purely instinctual. Shit. Yeon Haejeong kept cursing under his breath as he dragged down his zipper. He knew how ridiculous this was — doing this in someone else’s bedroom — but the instinct clouding his mind was beyond resisting, and he slipped his hand inside his underwear. He curled his fingers around his half-hard length, buried his face in the pillow, and drew in a deeper breath.
Was once not enough? Yeon Haejeong exhaled roughly and creased his brow. There was no other way to make sense of himself. The idea that he was reacting to something as trivial as a smell stung his pride.
“Ha… shit. Hh…”
Even as he thought it, his body was responding with complete honesty. The more he breathed it in, the more that single time drifted hazily through his mind. The lips parting in flustered, speechless gasps. The clumsy, hesitant hands that could barely bring themselves to touch him properly. The face of someone hurting badly enough to die, and yet holding on through it — for him.
“Ugh…”
What had been only half-hard was now straining, swollen tight like it might burst. Pathetic. Jerking off. But what pissed him off even more was that he couldn’t stop. He dragged his cock — flushed red, veins standing out — against the blanket soaked in Munyeong’s scent. A wet, choked breath tore out of him at the strange pleasure crawling up his spine.
Shit. Fucking hell. Ha… Fuck.
Haejeong didn’t stop cursing even as he panted. He pressed his face into the pillow and dragged it across like an animal, rubbing and grinding mindlessly, eyes gone a little wild as his hand picked up speed. Smack, smack — a steady rhythm, over and over — and underneath it, a gradually slicker sound began to fill the small room. And then.
Knock, knock.
A calm, unhurried knock. In an instant, Yeon Haejeong’s entire body locked up. The door clicked open.
“Excuse me — I brought a change of clothes just in ca—”
Munyeong came face to face with Yeon Haejeong exactly as he was — face shoved into the pillow, hips arched up, mid-stroke — and went completely white. Beyond freezing — he lost his voice entirely, and the neatly folded clothes slipped from his hands and dropped to the floor.
Haejeong was just as frozen. He stayed exactly where he was, in that rather indecent position, staring at Munyeong. Munyeong had gone a deathly pale and stood rooted to the spot. Haejeong muttered under his breath.
…Fu… ck……
After roughly ten seconds of being completely locked up, Yeon Haejeong snapped to his senses and bolted upright, frantically throwing the blanket over his lower half, which was still making its own stubborn case for itself. Face burning red, he yelled.
“…Kn— knock, you need to knock!”
Shit. Yeon Haejeong’s face was cycling through every shade of red and purple as he tripped over his own words.
“Have some — shit — I mean, just barging into someone’s — ha.”
Yeon Haejeong dragged a hand down his face. He had no defense and he knew it.
“…I — I did knock……”
“…Don’t talk back, shit.”
“……I’m — I’m sorry.”
Munyeong, face as red as if he were the one who’d been caught, wrenched the door shut and bolted. He lost his grip on his own strength and the door slammed, loud enough to ring. Back pressed against the closed door, he stood there looking as pale as death. If he hadn’t leaned on it, he felt like his legs would give out. He drew in a long, steadying breath.
What did I just see…?
Munyeong blinked dumbly, too bewildered to process it even now that he’d seen it. If he hadn’t seen it wrong… that was, without a doubt, his… that was definitely…
“Ha…”
He let out a stupefied breath, mouth opening and closing, looking like a man who’d witnessed something he couldn’t possibly believe. It made no sense to him — no sense at all. Why, in his own home, in his own room, would he be rubbing his face into his pillow and breathing in the scent—
I must have seen it wrong.
Munyeong rubbed at his stiff neck and laughed awkwardly. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t possibly be…
Still trying to laugh it off, Munyeong had gone pale all over again as he forced his unsteady legs to carry him away — when the door behind him burst open. He jolted in shock and spun around, clutching his chest, eyes wide as a startled rabbit’s.
“Wh— what.”
Yeon Haejeong threw the door open and stepped out, shameless as anything, chin lifted as he faced Munyeong, who was staring at him like he’d seen a ghost. Nothing like the ashen-faced state he’d been in just moments before — he already wore the unbothered look of someone who had absolutely no idea what Munyeong could possibly be talking about.
“Ah — no, it’s nothing.”
Munyeong shook his head under the weight of that energy, deciding it was easier to pretend he hadn’t seen anything. It would be simpler for himself too.
“What. First time seeing someone jerk off?”
Yeon Haejeong seemed to have decided to go all in on shamelessness, because he added it boldly, almost like a challenge. Munyeong, whose ears had started going red, looked away and dodged the question entirely.
“……The change of clothes is in the room… so please change and get some rest.”
He deflected and delivered the message he’d originally come for, and Yeon Haejeong narrowed his eyes and studied the very flustered Munyeong carefully.
“I’m the one who should be embarrassed, not you. Why is your face redder than mine.”
Munyeong startled at that and brought his hand to his own cheek. That can’t be right, he thought, flustered, quietly muttering to himself as he willed the heat out of his face as fast as he could.
“The reaction on you. Acting like some virgin.”
Yeon Haejeong snorted and walked into the kitchen like he owned the place, yanking the refrigerator door open. His profile settled into Munyeong’s field of view from where he stood. And then — just barely — the faint flush at the tips of Haejeong’s ears came into view. He was pretending like nothing had happened, but Munyeong only now realized that he was, in fact, extraordinarily embarrassed himself. The coiled tension in Munyeong’s chest loosened just a little at that, and a small, helpless laugh slipped out without a sound.
“How is there not even any beer in this house.”
He grumbled, pulling out a bottle of water and tipping it back in a series of rough, reckless gulps — water running down the corners of his mouth and all.
“…Should I go buy some?”
Munyeong ventured carefully, and Yeon Haejeong said “Don’t bother” in a sulky voice and snapped the refrigerator shut. He was acting exactly like a teenager in the middle of a growth spurt. He seemed to be heading back to the room, and he shoved past Munyeong, who was just standing there blankly — but then he stopped. Yeon Haejeong stood still, lips moving like he was turning something over in his mind for a long moment, and then he turned that large frame back around to face Munyeong. He looked off to the side, like a kid who’d done something wrong but couldn’t bring himself to admit it, and muttered quietly.
“……When I drink a lot… I sometimes get like that.”
It was exactly the tone of someone making excuses. Munyeong caught on immediately to what the excuse was for, and he couldn’t hide the embarrassment that rose on his own face.
“……Yes…”
“I don’t do that all the time.”
“……Right…”
“I’m not the type to just pop a boner anywhere.”
I get it, please, just stop—— Munyeong squeezed his eyes shut, silently begging him to let it go.
“I don’t even jerk off normally. What for? There’s no shortage of people who want to do it with me.”
His voice was climbing, growing more heated, like he had something to prove.
“I’m saying, there’s no shortage of people who want to do it with me.”
“……Yes. That’s… very impressive.”
Munyeong pressed the corners of his mouth up into something stiff and offered the response he’d worked very hard to produce.
“…Annoys the shit out of me.”
He muttered it low, apparently displeased with his own reaction, then slammed the door shut behind him again. Munyeong finally let himself breathe — a long exhale — and leaned his hips back against a nearby shelf. His mind was a complete wreck. It was always like this when he was around Yeon Haejeong. He tried to stay composed, but it was never easy. The resolution he had made most often in his life was not to be swept away by people. The things others had that he didn’t, the things others looked down on, the things that came naturally to others but never to him — since he was young, he had worked hard not to be pulled under by idle thoughts or feelings. But with Yeon Haejeong in the picture… he ended up completely swept away every time.
“…God, fucking hell.”
