The weather in New York hadn’t yet dropped as low as it had in Seoul, so Joonmyun felt severely overdressed as he walked through the airport towards the baggage claim. As he joined the crowd of overly impatient travelers, he felt even more out of place with the mask that covered the lower half of his face.
Whereas when he’d left Korea, nearly everyone in the airport had them on. Now, he was the only person who was wearing one and had even gotten some strange looks from a few adults and children, probably wondering if he had some contagious disease.
It didn’t matter to him though, he was only here in New York and for one reason alone.
If his heart hadn’t been beating so fast, he would’ve finally started second-guessing his decision to just hop on the next plane to the US, based off three texts from an unknown phone number.
Except the number wasn’t unknown at all. Joonmyun knew exactly who it was and what they wanted.
I miss you. Come see me. New York, Room 15A NOMO SOHO. Please.
He was a fool. That much he knew, but he wasn’t going to admit that out loud. That would make it too real and what he needed was for the rush of adrenaline that’d gotten him there to last until he got back on a plane.
It’d been four years since he’d left the group and nearly two years since Joonmyun had last seen him in person, but that didn’t matter as he knocked on the hotel room door with his bag in hand.
“You came,” Kris breathed out in heavily accented Korean, running his hand through his pitch-black hair.
Joonmyun stood there for a moment, gripping his bag tighter.
He could leave. He could just turn around and walk away, leaving Kris to stand in the open doorway, looking out in the empty hallway.
He could.
But he wouldn’t.
“Yeah, I did, didn’t I?” Just like that, all the sleepless nights they’d spent dancing, training, sweating and stressing about comebacks, choreography and interview scripts came flooding back to Joonmyun’s mind.
He couldn’t even bring himself to be angry.
Not again.
Kris stepped aside after a few moments of silence and Joonmyun walked past him, his breath nearly catching in his throat when he brushed Kris’ body. He threw his bag down in the bedroom, next to the posh king-sized bed. When he came back out, Kris was still standing near the door, unsure of what to do now that Joonmyun was right in front of him.
In the bright lights of the living room, Joonmyun got a good look at Kris, taking in all the changes that had happened in the last two years. Kris looked taller somehow, probably because he’d gotten back into a steady workout regimen, had some semblance of a sleep schedule and had ample time to relax and unwind. Joonmyun, on the other hand, felt self-conscious because, as usual, he was running on maybe six hours of sleep, hadn’t had a good meal in about a week and had just gotten off a sixteen-hour flight.
He looked like shit.
“You look good,” Kris stammered, stepping closer to Joonmyun, reaching to touch Joonmyun’s freshly dyed brown hair.
“It’s a wonder you’re not bald yet.” Just like Kris to make light of a situation that was anything but. Joonmyun couldn’t help but crack a smile, and he leaned into the caress. The size of Kris’ hand was nearly the size of Joonmyun’s face, so the gesture made Joonmyun’s entire face warm.
“The small-talk is unbecoming of you Wu Yifan,” Joonmyun sighed, stepping closer so he could wrap his arms around the taller man’s waist. The moment their bodies touched again, Joonmyun confirmed what he’d guessed early. Kris was definitely more toned and muscular than the last time they’d had a rendezvous. “Just tell me the truth,” Joonmyun spoke, his voice muffled from being buried in Kris’ chest, “those texts you sent were drunk texts right? I jumped on a sixteen-hour flight because of a drunk text.”
“You know better than that,” with that, Kris reached and tipped up Joonmyun’s head, leaning down to kiss him.
Joonmyun’s first mind was to bite his bottom lip as Kris pulled away, but when Kris actually pulled away, his knees felt like they were going to give out.
He was weak.
It was why he let Kris kiss him until his lips were puffy and red, then led him to the shower where he washed both their bodies and kissed him even more.
By the time they were finished with their shower, Joonmyun felt drunk, and when he caught sight of himself in the mirror, he decided that he looked drunk as well.
The room span as he lay on the bed, staring up the simplistic chandelier that hung from the ceiling. The responsible voice in the back of his head screamed from him to leave and get back on a plane to Korea so he wouldn’t have to face the wrath of Manager Kim, but the louder and needier voice demanded that he stay put.
It also didn’t help that Kris kept glancing back at him like he was afraid Joonmyun would disappear as he tried to politely hurry whoever it was on the other end of the phone call.
From the muttered replies in English that sounded garbled to Joonmyun’s ears, he could vaguely make out that it seemed important.
He couldn’t muster up the strength to leave though.
Not when every cell of his body seemed to sing when Kris’ light touches returned, and his lips found their way to Joonmyun’s again.
Like puzzle pieces, they still fit together perfectly, and Joonmyun nearly resented how well Kris was still in tune with his body and what he liked.
A crook of his fingers here or his fingers deeply embedded in the skin there.
It was like they trainees again, knowing the intimate ins-and-outs of what made the other tick.
When used his tongue to lick a fat stripe up the underside of Kris’ lengthy dick, he didn’t miss how the man’s eyes rolled back, and he gripped a handful of his hair, tightening when Joonmyun suckled at the red, leaking tip.
As much as Joonmyun wanted to further burn the taste into his memory, Kris stopped him not long after with a soft tap on his bare shoulder. The warning was silent, but Joonmyun heard him loud and clear.
I want to come with you. Inside you.
The thought to ask Kris if he was clean flashed across his mind, but Joonmyun ignored it. It was no surprised when Kris reached on the side of the bed and retrieved a bottle of lube and a condom. He held it up, prepared to open it, but Joonmyun took it out his hand and tossed it across the bed.
“There hasn’t been anyone else,” Joonmyun breathed, his hand still on Kris’ wrist.
“Same,” the voice that had encouraged him to go with the flow overpowered the voice of warning for good, and he could only hear encouragements to keep going.
The stretch burned in the best way, and Joonmyun leaned into it, getting reacquainted with just how much Kris filled him up. With each thrust of his hips, Kris pressed against his prostate with ease.
No words were exchanged, only sounds of mutual pleasure were to be heard. Kris gripped his hips so hard, Joonmyun was sure there’d be bruises in the morning, and he silently hoped that they’d remain for a while.
He wanted something to make him remember this.
Kris hissed when Joonmyun held his shoulders and rode him quick and reckless, not caring that if he kept it up, neither of them would last longer than five minutes.
And it didn’t matter to him, because he was going to be in this hotel room with Kris until he decided he was finished.
The sound of skin meeting filled the quiet room, and it made Joonmyun think about when they had to be quiet because the walls of the dorm were paper thin. Now they were in the presidential suite, making as much noise as they pleased.
His dick bounced heavily between his and Kris’ stomach, smacking against his abs each time he dropped down into Kris’ lap. He hadn’t even touched himself once, and he was already on the brink of coming.
Kris’ grip on his hips was like a vice, and the beats of sweat that decorated the top of his forehead as well as how hard he was biting his lower lip told Joonmyun that Kris was precariously close to coming.
“Please, please, please come,” Joonmyun whined, digging his manicured fingernails into the skin of Kris’ back.
A few grunts later and Joonmyun got precisely what he asked for, plus an unstimulated orgasm for himself.
As his body shook from both the aftershocks and oversensitivity, Kris held onto him, pressing them impossibly closer together until their heartbeats synced into one rhythm.
“I miss you,” the words were whispered into the crook of Kris’ neck.
There.
