hold me 'til i scream (for air to breathe) → hanbin/junhwe
hold me ‘til i scream (for air to breathe) ikon ; hanbin/junhwe → nc-17 → 1.7k pwp ; Somewhere between the closed doors and the mussed hair and the fingernails dragging lines down onto backs, Junhwe finds his fingers on Hanbin’s neck again. warnings! breathplay, bruises
the first out of three fics for jinglebin. written for ikonet secret santa~ i still can’t believe you made me write this.
- - -
Hanbin definitely didn’t see it coming.
It had started as a joke, initially, with no motive behind it. Junhwe didn’t intend to do it, but as his hand shot up and gripped on his throat, Hanbin’s breath hitches. He doesn’t know what it is that makes the air in his lungs heavier, or what kind of switch Junhwe had suddenly jammed his finger into, but he’s certain Junhwe had noticed when he feels that his fingers have stilled.
There’s a dead silence hanging in the air, Junhwe holding his gaze a bit too long, and Hanbin can’t help but squirm from the pressure around his neck. Junhwe then takes notice because what the fuck is he doing, and snatches his hand away like he burned himself.
They both stare off in different directions, but Junhwe turns and eyes at Hanbin questioningly when he shifts and sits up on the couch, and something catches in his line of vision.
“Hanbin are you-” he stops when he sees a flush of red creep on Hanbin’s face, spreading to his ears. He has a hand in a fist covering his mouth in embarrassment. It’s almost endearing, actually. The space in between them widens and silence grows heavier as Hanbin scoots himself over and stands up.
“Just- Forget about it,” Hanbin brushes him off and hurries to the bathroom. He promptly locks the door behind him and drags his palms over his face.
“Jesus Christ, Kim Hanbin. What was that?” he faces himself in the mirror. A shower, he decides, feeling particularly uncomfortable in the wetness of his jeans.
- - -
Neither of them have said a single thing. It’s not like they’re especially uncomfortable to each other, nothing like what Junhwe has going on with Jiwon. They’re rather close, actually. They just don’t speak of it. It never happened.
Junhwe has gotten a bit fixated, though. He doesn’t quite know why, but he sometimes finds himself unconsciously staring at Hanbin’s neck when they’re practicing, or when he rubs at it in stress in the studio while composing. He imagines purple and blue marks against Hanbin’s pale skin, he’s always bruised prettily.
Junhwe thinks about it, thinks about it all the time, but nobody notices. They just say he’s a bit out of loop and brush it off like it’s nothing.
They’re both alone, the dorms almost disquieting in their emptiness. Light shines weakly through the windows, sky burning into a haze reds and oranges as the sun begins to die off into the horizon. The only sound resonating through the walls is the gentle whir of the ceiling fan and the hustling of crowded metro stations outside. All of the other members are out shopping, Hanbin complaining about being too tired and Junhwe never really wanting to do anything.
Hanbin sits with Junhwe on the couch, legs thrown over each other in a tangle, flipping through television channels in quick progression. Junhwe sings the chorus of a random song to himself as he watches.
Hanbin seems a little unnerved as he shifts, lips pressed into a tight line, pushing back his hair away from his forehead. Junhwe looks at him confoundedly.
“Hanbin, have you been holding off?” he almost chokes when he hears the question.
“No? I mean, not really,” he glances away in embarrassment.
“Don’t lie to me. You get all tense when you haven’t gotten off properly. It’s not hard to tell,” Junhwe deadpans, and his eyes trail down when he sees Hanbin’s adam’s apple bob and twitch when he gulps down.
Fucking snap out of it Koo Junhwe.
“Guess I can’t really hide it, huh?” Hanbin hand goes up to rub at the back of his neck on habit again, and he notices that Hanbin really is hard, and Junhwe decides fuck it. He heaves himself off of the couch and sighs almost comically when he grabs Hanbin by the wrist and drags him into one of their shared bedrooms.
Junhwe throws him down onto a bed, straddling his hips as he grinds down onto Hanbin’s crotch. Hanbin moans and Junhwe cups his chin and kisses him like he means it. Hanbin whines into Junhwe’s mouth, sweet like honey on his tongue as he wraps his arms around Junhwe’s neck and claws at his shoulder blades.
They’re used to this, all of them are, but somewhere between the closed doors and the mussed hair and the fingernails dragging lines down onto backs, Junhwe finds his fingers on Hanbin’s neck again. It’s dead quiet, and the only thing that reaches Junhwe’s ears is the faint sound of Hanbin’s rhythmic breathing.
Veins protrude out of the column of his neck as deft fingers stroke at his adam’s apple. Junhwe can feel Hanbin’s cock straining through his sweats under him as his entire body tenses, the rise and fall of his chest quickening, face flushing and thighs quivering.
Junhwe wants to, he really does.
“Do it.”
That catches him by surprise.
“Don’t worry,” Hanbin’s voice falters and Junhwe, unsure, looks up at him like he’s asking for permission, “I want you to.”
“Can I really?” Junhwe asks in nervousness and he’s given a nod. “Seriously?”
“Yes, you can. I want you to, so it’s fine,” Hanbin reassures him. Junhwe shifts and steadies himself as he repositions his fingers, taking a deep breath.
“Ready?” Junhwe settles himself on Hanbin’s lap, “Tell me when I should stop, okay?”
Junhwe rubs smooth circles into Hanbin’s skin and feels the pulsing beat of arteries and perspiration dripping onto his palms. He runs his hands along Junhwe’s forearm and nods.
Then, Junhwe’s fingers flex, and all of Hanbin’s worries leave his train of thought like fleeting, twittering little birds.
Junhwe treads cautiously, feeling the softness of his throat, only applying light pressure that doesn’t quite retrain his breathing. Hanbin’s toes curl as his body goes rigid and he writhes. Junhwe notices how Hanbin’s eyes flutter shut as he gives in, how pliant and yielding he is under him, and he really doesn’t know what kind of spark lit from inside him that has him tightening his grip further.
Hanbin’s heart picks up tenfold, pulse pounding behind his ears. There’s a choked cry as he gasps for air on instinct, and he can feel Junhwe’s hold on his throat waver.
“Harder, god, Junhwe harder-” and he obliges. The fingers around Hanbin’s neck constrict and the pressure is so strong and tight that he realizes he really can’t breathe, and it hits him. It hits him so hard and so fast that it has his eyes watering and his back arching of the mattress. A swirl of white fogs over Hanbin’s vision like a cloud, and everything begins to haze around the edges.
Hanbin feels oddly at ease, so lightheaded he might be nearing the edge of passing out. And he wants it, craves it. He loves the airiness in his head, loves the feeling like he’s floating so much he’s visibly shaking. He can feel Junhwe’s eyes all over him, and Hanbin really doesn’t want it to end, but the grip Junhwe has on him is too good, the aching of his cock almost unbearable and he’s so, so terribly close.
Junhwe feels a tapping on his arm as Hanbin gasps for him to stop.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Hanbin gasps, and Junhwe can’t stop thinking about what exactly just happened, can’t stop staring, until he remembers that both of them are still very much hard.
“So can we?” Hanbin nods, and Junhwe watches his face flush even more and reaches into a drawer. He shimmies Hanbin out of his pants and shirt and does the same for himself. Hanbin spreads himself open, waiting patiently and god he looks so good. Junhwe squeezes some lube onto his fingers and presses them at his entrance, circling, teasing almost, until he pushes the first digit in and Hanbin whines into his fist.
Junhwe preps him agonizingly slow, watching the way his face contorts from the intrusion. He slips out before he adds another, scissoring, and Hanbin tries his best to stay quiet, gasping and clutching at the sheets while Junhwe fingerfucks him open. He kisses at Hanbin’s chest, mouthing at the wide expanse of skin and teasing at a nipple with his free hand.
“Junhwe, hurry up, come on,” Hanbin begs, and Junhwe is growing impatient, so he slides his fingers out and throws Hanbin’s legs over his shoulders. He rolls on a condom and slicks himself up, positioning himself. Hanbin hisses and grits his teeth as Junhwe pushes in, bit by bit, until he’s fully seated inside and waits for Hanbin to adjust.
“God, you’re so tight,” Junhwe grunts as begins to move, sliding out almost completely and ramming himself back in. He rocks his hips and Hanbin’s eyes screw shut and his head tips back in a moan, baring his throat at Junhwe again when he gets the angle right. Junhwe sucks marks into his skin, into his neck and collarbones, as he fucks Hanbin down onto the bed.
Hanbin is panting Junhwe’s name like a prayer, finding himself whining harder harder harder, his voice going hoarse and rough and fucked out. Junhwe’s thrusts grow shallow and erratic, leaning down to kiss Hanbin and pumping him off to the rhythm. His other hand wanders up Hanbin’s stomach, his chest and his ribs, until it’s wrapped around his throat.
“Junhwe, god, I’m close,” Junhwe’s grip tightens as he snaps his hips sharply, and Hanbin clenches around him as he comes, white in his vision. Junhwe manages a few more thrusts before his orgasm hits and collapses on top of him, out of breath.
Junhwe pulls out and they lay like that for a few minutes, and he strokes his fingers against Hanbin’s neck. It’s beginning to bruise.
“Well at least now I know what you’re into,” Hanbin heaves as he shoves Junhwe off of him. “Don’t even try to lie, I know you’ve been staring.”
Junhwe blushes beet red in surprise ands tries to kick Hanbin off of the bed. “You sly little bastard-“
“It’s okay, though. I don’t really mind it.”
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if you did happen to read this all the way to the very end, i’m sorry. also feel free come yell at me in my inbox~ i would love some feedback;;