In an era when artificial intelligence (AI) is alarmingly encroaching on creativity and copyright, SEVENTEEN are artists who are blatantly, loudly, and immovably protesting against the use of AI, precisely through their own artistry—unquestionably declaring their stance through music of their own creation.
In their award-winning performance of their song "Maestro" at the 2024 Mnet Asian Music Awards (MAMA), where they were awarded the daesang (grand prize) for Album of The Year and Artist of The Year, they open their stage with this:
A robot acts as the conductor that SEVENTEEN and their dancers seemingly try to follow, yet it is clear that the resulting music is discordant and everything is in disharmony.
It is here that S.COUPS, SEVENTEEN's General Leader, steps forward and grabs the baton from the robot, declaring without a doubt who the real Maestro of that stage should be.
The Two Captains then follow suit, with S.COUPS now relinquishing the baton to Performance Team Leader HOSHI, who now takes centerstage as is his command, as Vocal Team Leader and Producer WOOZI reclaims control of the music as he plays on the piano.
HOSHI is now the real Maestro of the stage, WOOZI the real Maestro of the music, and S.COUPS the real Maestro of the group and their rapt audience.
SEVENTEEN's three leaders will always be the only ones the members will follow.
Here, they declare without a doubt who the real Maestro are:
Also this is very niche but seeing the vocal unit introduce themselves on Knowing Bros in that particular scene, Dongsik would have loved fellow mischievous rule-breaker Jeonghan.
Observing that fandoms (in general) formed post-2020, during and after COVID, aren’t as enduring as fandoms before it.
I’m still getting comments on fics I wrote 10-15 years ago—particularly from Lord of the Rings, Person of Interest, and Star Trek—which means its fandoms continue to endure, even if it’s quieted down from the peak of its hype.
Fandoms formed during and after the pandemic seem to be products of its time: more fleeting, less deeply invested, meant to be a temporary escape, as people retreated into media as distraction and entertainment, rather than as a true hobby.
It explains a lot about the way fans act in fandom nowadays—callous and judgmental and demanding—because unlike the fans pre-COVID, they do not treat fandoms as the sacred communities that you nurture and protect, whose members you take time to uplift, and not tear down.
Fans during and post COVID treat fandom spaces with less respect because they don’t see fandom as a community to invest in, but rather, as a commodity for their entertainment.
Everything is monetized. Everything is a competition.
One advantage of never having used AI is that I don’t even know what AI writing looks like, so I don’t have to be conscious or hyperaware of making sure I don’t “write like AI” and just write as I’ve always been writing for DECADES.
And if anyone comes across my writing and says it “reads like AI”, it says a lot more about that reader because THEY are the ones more attuned to AI.
I refuse to use it so that I will NEVER be conscious of whether or not I’m writing like it.
Dunno if anyone from the Person of Interest (POI) fandom still remembers me—it’s been 8 years since I last wrote for the fandom—but it’s still the one I’ve written the most stories for.
POI was ahead of its time: it tackled the dangers of artificial super intelligence—yes, AI.
In fact, its protagonist and main creator of said AI—Harold Finch—is the first to warn people that AI would be catastrophic when used by the wrong people, and the first to refuse to hand over complete control to it.
Fast forward a decade later—and he’s 💯 right.
I wish more audiences knew of this show. A lot of people didn’t like the moral upstanding it tended to veer into at times, but the thing is, the show was 💯 correct in continuously proving that AI should NOT be given control in human decisions.
Fast forward a decade later, and who would’ve thought that the Pope of all people would declare AI a dangerous pathway to evil. I’m not even religious, but I’m glad a person of significant power is declaring a rightful war against AI.
The way Keiju blindly reached for Minje behind him, the way Minje reacted with a surprised and curious “What?”, the way Keiju grabbed Minje’s hand just to press his cheek against Minje’s palm—
Their random moments of tactile, tender affection like this makes my heart feel close to bursting 🥹
(I really should make a video compilation, there’s so many)
There’s a running theme of nostalgia and yearning in 5th gen boy group music as it tackles coming of age as an inevitable separation, and the desperate extraction of a promise to meet again after going their separate ways.
It’s holding on to youth in the most heartrending manner: holding on to memories, and to the people, in the hopes of meeting them again.
All three songs by TWS, AHOF, and KickFlip have the lyric 다시 만나 (dasi manna), which means “I’ll see you again” or “Let’s meet again.”
This was my favorite part of the whole one hour live:
Keiju shyly asking if Minje knows the singer (Fujii Kaze), and then telling Minje he hopes he can cover the song someday, because he loves the song and he thinks it fits Minje’s voice.
Then Keiju starts singing the song to Minje—even looking at Minje as he does so, as if singing it to him—with Minje concentrated on listening (even though he might not understand the lyrics because it’s in Japanese) and even trying to sing the song himself in the end, much to Keiju’s amused delight.
There was something pure and earnest and vulnerable in this moment: wanting a dear friend to sing for you a song that you love, and that friend trying their best to grant that wish immediately, even though he does not know the song nor the language, because it’ll make you happy.
There’s something pure about this kind of friendship. This kind of love 🥹
The lyrics Keiju sang to Minje:
“Whether the sky is dawning or dusking
We're gonna transcend thеm all
Things change, and we can do nothing about it
Just letting go, feeling lightеr, and becoming filled”
明けてゆく空も暮れてゆく空も
僕らは超えてゆく
ああ
変わりゆくものは仕方がないねと
手を放す、軽くなる、満ちてゆく"
This was my favorite part of the whole one hour live:
Keiju shyly asking if Minje knows the singer (Fujii Kaze), and then telling Minje he hopes he can cover the song someday, because he loves the song and he thinks it fits Minje’s voice.
Then Keiju starts singing the song to Minje—even looking at Minje as he does so, as if singing it to him—with Minje concentrated on listening (even though he might not understand the lyrics because it’s in Japanese) and even trying to sing the song himself in the end, much to Keiju’s amused delight.
There was something pure and earnest and vulnerable in this moment: wanting a dear friend to sing for you a song that you love, and that friend trying their best to grant that wish immediately, even though he does not know the song nor the language, because it’ll make you happy.
There’s something pure about this kind of friendship. This kind of love 🥹
The lyrics Keiju sang to Minje:
“Whether the sky is dawning or dusking
We're gonna transcend thеm all
Things change, and we can do nothing about it
Just letting go, feeling lightеr, and becoming filled"
"明けてゆく空も暮れてゆく空も
僕らは超えてゆく
ああ
変わりゆくものは仕方がないねと
手を放す、軽くなる、満ちてゆく"
Daydreaming in the midst of the night
You brush my thoughts and sweep my sleep away
After so long, now, I miss all the times
It’s unnecessary
There are plenty more times we’ll miss anyway
It’s painful to face you
The answer we want to hear
Knowing it, the feelings are twisted
The scars and guilt become tangled again
The walls are tightly closing in
—
Keiju’s heart jumps as soon as he sees the name on the caller ID.
It’s a strange feeling, this mixture of elation and dread: the instant joy of hearing from him after being gone for so long—and knowing exactly the reason why he’s calling now, of all times.
The vibrating phone is loud in the silence of the night. He grips it tight, letting it bring life back to the nerves of his fingertips that have gone numb in the cold.
The call keeps going. It looks like he’s not going to hang up anytime soon.
He’s expecting Keiju to pick up.
He swallows. With a shaking hand, he taps the screen and brings the phone up to his ear.
“Moshi moshi, Maru-niichan?”
The surprise in the sudden ensuing silence speaks volumes. Amaru’s tone is curious. “You’re out in public, aren’t you?”
Keiju smiles wanly at how Amaru knows him so well that he instinctively replies in Japanese too. “How did you know?”
Amaru’s tone is wry. “You only ever speak in Japanese there when you don’t want the people around you to understand what you’re saying. Where are you? You’re not at the company or the dorm?”
“No, I’m—” Keiju hedges, “—outside.”
There’s a weighted pause at the other end of the line. Then, a soft query:
“Are you by the Han river again?”
Keiju smile trembles. Sometimes he wishes he isn’t so transparent—especially to someone as keen as Amaru. “Are you monitoring me through the public livestream of the CCTV cameras or something?”
Ah, Keiju thinks in resignation. There it is. The reason for the call.
Amaru’s tone becomes gentle. “And you always go alone to the Han river when you’re troubled.”
Keiju leans back to rest his head against the bench. The night sky is pitch black, starless due to the snow.
“I’ve been avoiding him, onii-chan.”
“I know.” And it speaks volumes about the depth of their friendship that Amaru doesn’t even have to ask whom Keiju is talking about. “Kyehoon-niichan told me about it.”
Keiju feels his pulse quicken—though perhaps he really should have expected that the rest of the members are also in constant contact with Amaru. They’re still a team, after all.
And it makes sense that their leader is keeping tabs on all of them.
Keiju bites his lip. “Is he mad?”
Amaru sounds surprised—and disappointed—that it’s the question Keiju first thinks to ask. “No, Keiju-kun.” Keiju feels chastised, even though he knows it’s not Amaru’s intention. “Kyehoon-niichan is worried about you.”
There’s a significant pause, before Amaru pointedly adds: “Both of you.”
Keiju’s grip on the phone tightens. “Is—is he okay?”
Amaru sounds confused. “Kyehoon-niichan?”
“No.” Keiju’s voice is timid. “… Minje.”
“Keiju-kun.” It tugs at Keiju’s heartstrings, hearing Amaru address him like that. Like Keiju is somehow… fragile. “Shouldn’t you know better than the rest of us?”
And it’s an arrow piercing straight through Keiju’s chest, the way Amaru voices it out plainly and clearly, like it’s an indefatigable fact of life:
“You’re the one who loves him the most.”
Keiju shivers. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”
He pulls his jacket closer over himself and tucks in his scarf tighter around his neck. He underestimated the cold tonight.
Seoul has always been colder than Tokyo.
“I’m scared, onii-chan,” Keiju confesses. “I’m scared of how… intensely I feel for him. I thought—I thought I was hiding it well, or at least that I still have some semblance of control over it, but for a celebrity fortune teller like Park Sungjoon-sensei to even pick up on it—”
Keiju stops to catch his breath mid-outburst. Amaru is noticeably—knowingly—silent, allowing Keiju the space to sort through and somehow make sense of his maelstrom of emotions.
There’s a rustle at the other end of the line. At this time of the night, Amaru must be getting ready for bed at his family’s home in Saitama. “Keiju-kun,” he starts carefully, “do you really believe that at this point, Minje-kun is still unaware that you have feelings for him?”
“I’m not scared that he knows,” Keiju says quietly. “I’m scared that he doesn’t know how much.”
He hears a familiar creak at the other end of the line; Amaru must have laid down in bed. Keiju smiles, a little envious of how Amaru must have been sleeping at regular hours lately—unlike the rest of them.
They still have to travel to Gwangju later. Sleep will not be on a bed for them—but on a bus.
It’s the price they pay for a glamorous idol life, Keiju thinks a little bitterly.
“Do you remember that Japanese proverb about the sun?” Amaru asks suddenly. “The sun does not know good, the sun does not know bad.”
“The sun illuminates and warms everyone equally,” Keiju continues softly.
He can hear Amaru’s smile in the way he speaks. “There’s no place on earth that isn’t touched by the sun. No place on earth to escape its light.”
Keiju’s throat tightens. “Onii-chan.”
“No person who escapes your love.” Amaru’s tone is gentle. “He knows, Keiju-kun. Minje-kun knows how much you love him. You’ve never really been able to hide it, because you can’t. That’s just how the sun is. Its destiny is to shine and give light. And your destiny is to give love.”
Keiju pulls his legs up and crosses them, tucking his feet under his knees. He tilts his face up and lets the snowflakes kiss his cheeks.
“Onii-chan.” His voice is trembling now. “Do you think—is it possible that—he feels the same way? Does he—can he—love me back?”
Under the glow of the lamplights, the snow looks like rain. The only difference is that it’s much, much colder when it hits his skin.
“Keiju.” And there it is again—that tone Amaru takes on when he doesn’t want to break Keiju. “He already does. Minje-kun loves you so much he doesn’t know how to say no to you. He always, always puts you first.”
Keiju squeezes his lids against the sudden pricking at the corner of his eyes. He wants to believe it’s because of the snow, but the tightening of his throat betrays him.
His heart feels so, so heavy.
“Whatever you ask of him, he gives it to you. Whatever you need, he moves heaven and earth for you to have it. That’s how pure his love is for you. Because that’s also the kind of person he is. He loves without reservation.”
“Then why,” Keiju whispers, “do you sound so scared?”
He hears a sharp intake of breath.
“Onii-chan.”
The vision of the lamplight is starting to blur. Keiju closes his eyes.
“Are you scared I might end up hurting him?”
The wetness that spills over his cheeks is warmer than the snow.
Am I really that unworthy to be loved by him?
Amaru seems to be carefully choosing his words. “Minje-kun’s love for you is so earnest and pure he will do anything to be close to you. But you’re the sun, Keiju-kun. And anyone who tries to fly too close to the sun—”
“—ends up getting burned.”
Keiju lets out a shaky exhale and furiously swipes at his eyes before the wetness turns into ice. “I understand, onii-chan,” he says tonelessly. “I’m too much for him.”
“No, you don’t. And no, you’re not.” Amaru sounds pained now. “Okamoto Keiju, you are the sun. Your destiny is to be in the sky. Your destiny is to shine. And I don't want you to come down for anything or anyone. I don’t want you to ever dim your light. Not even for love. Not even for someone like Choi Minje.”
Isn’t it fascinating, Keiju thinks dimly, that when the snow melts against the skin, it can’t anymore be distinguished from tears?
“It’s lonely up here, onii-chan.” His lips tremble as he smiles sadly. “The sun is up here in the sky all alone.”
For the first time in all the time Keiju has known him—Amaru runs out of words to say.
A beep in his ear breaks through the silence. He hears a rustle at the other end of the line.
“Oh. Kyehoon-niichan messaged the group chat.”
Keiju blinks. He puts Amaru on speaker and taps on the notification.
He stares at the wording of the question.
‘Minje-ya, Iju-ya, are the two of you together?’
He can understand now why even Amaru sounds surprised. Thankfully, Keiju is spared from answering when their leader immediately receives a reply.
‘I’m still at the company, just about done practicing the choreography.’
“Why is Minje-kun practicing alone?” Amaru asks curiously.
“I don’t know,” Keiju murmurs, just as Kyehoon sends another message.
‘Well, can you pick up Iju wherever he is? The company bus is about to arrive soon.’
There’s a wistfulness in Amaru’s voice. “The next stop of the fan concert tour?”
“Yeah.” Keiju pulls his legs up to his chest and rests his chin on his knees. “Onii-chan?”
“Hmm?”
“Come home soon,” Keiju says softly. “Donghyeon-kun misses you the most.”
“… I know.”
There’s a gentleness in Amaru’s tone that strikes a familiar chord in Keiju.
“I miss him the most, too.”
Keiju smiles, a tender ache in his heart that understands. “Good night, onii-chan.”
“Good night, Keiju-kun. Hug Donghyeon-kun tight for me, will you?”
Keiju’s swallows against the lump in this throat. “I will.”
“And Keiju-kun?”
“Yeah?”
“I hope you find someone to be in the sky with you. So you don’t have to feel lonely anymore.”
Keiju buries his face on his knees. His fingers curl around the phone tightly as Amaru ends the call.
He startles when it suddenly vibrates again.
‘Iju-ya, there’s a two for one promo here in our favorite convenience store! Banana milk plus strawberry milk. You like strawberry milk, yeah? I’ll give it to you later on the bus.’
The watery laughter that bursts forth from him is unbearably fond, it feels like his heart is ballooning against his ribs. He hastily swipes at the sudden tears that fall for a different reason now, and taps out a reply.
‘You just want an excuse to buy the banana milk for yourself, Minje-ya.’
‘It’s a perfect pairing! I wouldn’t have bought it if it wasn’t for you.’
Keiju’s smiles as his thumb caresses the words on the screen—and laughs out loud when it’s Donghwa who replies.
‘Will the two of you stop flirting on the group chat and just message each other personally, god!’
He pockets his phone and stands, wincing a little at his aching muscles as he stretches his limbs. He’s been sitting at the park bench for a while. He takes a deep breath, allowing his emotions to settle.
He turns his gaze heavenward—and realizes the light that has been shining down on the bench isn’t just from the lamp post after all.
“Oh,” he says softly. “It’s a full moon tonight.”
—
Tears are falling again
Endless tears are falling
I feel like I know, no wait, I know now
I can’t go on without you, I can’t let you go
Why only now am I seeing you?
Hold me
Can you embrace me even though I’m far away?
Well, don't know, I don't know too
—
also posted at AO3
—
Title and lyrics from "I Don't Know" by SEVENTEEN
This is a missing scene from we meet in the sky, and takes place in the same timeline. It's actually possible to read this first even before reading we meet in the sky, and the story will still make sense, because this is written as a companion piece, rather than a sequel.
The resolution to this story can already be found in we meet in the sky. This is written to give more context and insight to Keiju's side of the story.
light a flame is the actual sequel, but you can choose to skip it if explicit sex isn't something you're comfortable with, or—especially—if you're underage. But what takes place there will be more powerful in its impact because of what this story shines light on.
Like the steady speed of the clock’s second hand
I want to keep going right now
Knowing but pretending that we don’t
We’re falling for each other
We already know, losing control
—
They’re as different as the sun and moon even in this.
Minje likes to take his time with Keiju, likes it slow and drawn-out and filthy, while Keiju likes it fast and hard, urgency singing hotly in his blood as his desire for Minje consumes his entire being.
Burning like the sun.
The good thing is that just like the sun and the moon—they’re also just as complementary in this.
Keiju moans as he licks against Minje’s lips, and he loves that Minje opens up to him immediately. The velvety slide of Minje’s tongue against his feels heavenly as he licks into the roof of Minje’s mouth and drags it along the outline of his teeth—before Minje closes his lips on Keiju’s tongue and sucks.
Keiju groans out loud as Minje starts sucking on his tongue in earnest, the wet, hot sensation of Minje’s mouth and the suckling sounds he’s making—obscenely loud in the choking silence of their hotel room—shooting straight through his cock.
He scrabbles for purchase, nails digging on Minje’s bare shoulders, and tries his best to rock against Minje, desperate for any sort of friction, but Minje isn’t having it. Minje has one arm around Keiju’s back and the other hand holding his head in place, using all his strength to keep Keiju’s body pinned to his as he continues leisurely fellating Keiju’s tongue.
Keiju whimpers as his mouth is kept open, saliva dripping out the corners, torn between savoring the slide of their tongues together while very much wanting another part of Minje’s body in his mouth, feeling lightheaded at the thought of it. He shakily tries to tell Minje this as he grasps Minje’s jaw, but Minje simply switches his attention as he sucks on Keiju’s thumb.
Keiju’s eyes flutter open to gaze with wonder at the erotic sight of Minje looking up at him darkly with a half-lidded gaze, slowly suckling on each of Keiju’s fingers in turn, the slide of each digit inch by excruciating inch over Minje’s hot, velvet tongue making Keiju’s cock throb in sympathy and jealousy.
Pinned against Minje and unable to move otherwise, Keiju switches tactics and starts grinding down against Minje in slow circles, letting Minje feel how hard he is as he tightens his legs around Minje’s waist, his cock swelling against Minje’s stomach. He smirks in satisfaction when he sees Minje finally being affected as his breath stutters and he gasps around Keiju’s fingers.
“Keiju.”
Keiju uses that momentary distraction to grasp at Minje’s jaw and lick a stripe up the long line of that beautiful neck, running his tongue over Minje’s Adam’s apple and finding that sweet spot behind his ear that makes Minje buck up against him.
Unlike Minje, Keiju isn’t slow or gentle at all: he bites at the skin and sucks it between his teeth, laving at the tender spot with his tongue. Beneath him, Minje’s body vibrates with a low groan, and god, Keiju is never going to hear the rumble of Minje’s bass voice on the stage speakers again without thinking of this.
Fuck. He wants to hear more.
‘You cannot burn the moon,’ Minje once promised him, and Keiju sets forth to determinedly prove that as he licks and bites and sucks along Minje’s neck and collarbone, scorching each white patch of skin with the heat of his mouth. He sits back to admire his handiwork, something darkly feral rising inside him at the sight of the red marks on Minje’s skin, knowing it’ll later bloom into a haphazard necklace of purple bruises around his neck.
The mark of Keiju’s branding.
Keiju runs his fingers over them, presses the marks in, and smirks as Minje hisses in the resulting pleasure-pain.
“Minje,” Keiju murmurs as he traces the shell of Minje’s ear with his tongue and sucks on his earlobe, hard. “Minje, I want your cock in my mouth, please.”
Minje reclaims Keiju’s mouth in a searing kiss, Keiju mewling against him as Minje’s fingernails dig into the small of his back, scratching against the skin as his fingers dip into the crease between Keiju’s ass, Keiju groaning against Minje’s mouth when Minje grabs the cheeks and cups them open.
“Don’t you want me inside you here,” Minje rumbles as he suckles on Keiju’s lower lip, and Keiju whimpers as he grinds down against Minje’s dick straining up against his boxer briefs, the friction between Keiju’s cheeks not nearly enough.
Fuck.
“M-Minje, I swear to you,” Keiju gasps as Minje nibbles at his jaw. “I want nothing more than for my body to be split open by your cock, but you like taking your sweet time prepping me and I really don’t have the patience for it right now.”
He feels Minje’s smile of amusement against his mouth. “I can make it good for you, you know,” he promises lowly as he kisses him, and god, Keiju knows that, Minje makes it so good every fucking time.
“Or you can just put your cock inside me in the quickest way possible, god Minje, let me suck your cock.”
Minje chuckles as he noses Keiju’s neck. “You have such a filthy mouth, Okamoto Keiju.”
Keiju sighs as he tilts his head, giving Minje better access as Minje feathers open-mouthed kisses along his neck and collarbone. “You love my filthy mouth, Choi Minje.” And because Keiju knows him all too well, he decides to push all the right buttons: “You love it so much you want to fuck my mouth, don’t you?”
And there it is: Minje lets out a bestial growl as he grabs at Keiju’s hair to yank his head back, sending a thrill up Keiju’s spine at how he has managed to make Minje’s iron-clad control slip for just a moment.
Minje’s breath is hot as it fans down Keiju’s chest. “I’m not gonna last long if you do that,” is the only warning Keiju gets before Minje closes his mouth around a nipple and sucks.
Keiju keens, bucking up against Minje as his whole body arches towards that talented tongue, languidly circling his sensitive, hardening nipple, hands flying to Minje’s head to desperately hold on as he starts suckling in earnest as if he’s nursing.
Keiju starts panting helplessly, the sensation too much all at once and feeling so, so good, surrendering himself to this point of constant contention with Minje that Keiju has yet to win against:
It’s a non-negotiable for Minje that Keiju has to always, always come first.
And this moment doesn’t seem to be an exception, as Keiju can already feel his body gearing for orgasm—and Minje hasn’t even touched him yet.
“Minje,” Keiju whimpers against Minje’s temple, his poor neglected cock already leaking against Minje’s stomach. “Please don’t let me come untouched, please.”
“Shhh.” There’s a soft pop as Minje unlatches his mouth from Keiju’s nipple. “Don’t beg, my love, I will never let you beg, you can have anything you want from me.”
And Keiju doesn’t know if it’s the way Minje latches his mouth across Keiju’s other nipple to give it equal attention, the way Minje finally, finally closes his hand around Keiju’s cock, or that fucking endearment Minje only reserves for moments of intimacy like this—reserved only for Keiju to hear like this—that nearly makes Keiju come.
Minje already knows Keiju’s body so well, playing him all too well like a fine-tuned instrument, that he knows to squeeze the head of Keiju’s cock just so to prevent him from coming right then and there.
“Not yet,” Minje murmurs as he flicks his tongue against Keiju’s nipple just as his thumb circles the tip of Keiju’s cock, Keiju gasping and whimpering at the near-overstimulation and delayed gratification. “Let me have you for a little longer, Keiju.”
I’m already yours. Keiju’s thoughts are frenzied and desperate as he squeezes his eyes shut, finally allowed to rock himself against Minje’s hand, the amount of precum dripping from his cock making the glide slick and smooth and so, so good.
All yours, Minje. Forever, if you want it. God, please have me forever.
Minje unlatches himself from Keiju’s chest and starts kissing his way back up Keiju’s neck. “Let me make this good for you,” he murmurs as he skims his lips over Keiju’s jaw, the gentle ministrations a dizzying counterpoint to the way Minje is pumping Keiju’s cock firmly now, and Keiju wants to cry at how good it feels. “I want to be good for you,” Minje adds huskily, and god, how can this sweet, selfless man actually belong to Keiju?
“M-Minje, g-god…” Please be mine, please be only mine, please don’t belong to anyone else, fuck—
Their mingled breaths are hot as they start panting together, Keiju whimpering as he starts chasing his impending orgasm, balls tightening against the heat pooling at the base of his cock as he starts bouncing on Minje’s lap in earnest, mewling as he feels Minje’s clothed erection dampening beneath him and rubbing up against the crevice of his ass.
“Keiju.” There’s a vulnerability to the way Minje’s breath stutters, the way his low baritone trembles as he begs, “Please don’t ever stop wanting me,” and kisses Keiju deeply.
Insane, Keiju thinks as kisses back just as passionately, his fingernails digging into Minje’s chest, clawing at him wildly. Minje is insane if he thinks it’s any possible for Keiju to want him any more than he already does, when he wants to slice open Minje’s sternum and live inside his ribcage forever.
It’s insane that Minje thinks it’s possible for Keiju to want anyone else when he wants to devour Minje whole.
He grabs at Minje’s head to keep their mouths together, breathing together as Minje starts expertly flicking his wrist at the end of each pull on Keiju’s cock, squeezing and rubbing the head extra tightly the precum starts leaking more and it’s so good it’s so good Keiju is losing his mind.
“Minje—Minje—” His name the only litany Keiju knows, the only name he’ll ever know, “I’m close, I’m so close—”
“Shhh, I got you, I got you…”
Minje reaches out and slicks Keiju’s bangs back, damp with sweat, so he can look directly into Keiju’s eyes.
“Come on, Keiju,” he murmurs lowly against Keiju’s lips. “Come for me.”
That promise of safety, the tenderness in Minje’s gaze, the gentle way Minje kisses him—all of it shatters Keiju.
For you, Keiju ardently vows and cries out as he spills all over Minje’s hand.
Only for you.
This is Keiju’s religion: dying and ressurecting in Minje’s arms all at once.
It feels like Keiju is floating somewhere on a heavenly plane, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through his limbs, his cock feebly twitching and squirting the last of its load on Minje’s stomach as Minje strokes him gently through all if it. Keiju can only hold on to Minje like a buoy as his whole body trembles with it, catching his breath as Minje plants tender kisses all over his face—his jaw, his temple, his cheeks, his eyelids, the tip of his nose.
“Minje,” Keiju complains as he tilts his head up, and he feels the fond smile pressed against his mouth before Minje indulges him with his silently demanded kiss.
Keiju sighs in contentment, wrapping his arms around Minje’s neck as they share slow, languid kisses, the aftermath of his orgasm leaving Keiju limp and relaxed against Minje. As he starts coming down from his high, he dimly registers that Minje has managed to reach for the wet wipes placed conveniently by the bedside table and starts cleaning them both up.
Blearily, Keiju opens his eyes to see that celestially handsome face gazing tenderly back at him. Minje smiles at him, strokes Keiju’s damp hair away from his forehead, and presses a final kiss to his lips before he reaches over to the side of the bed to dispose of the wipes in the trash bin.
Keiju furrows his brows. What does Minje think he’s doing? Does he really think this all ends with Keiju’s pleasure only?
Minje is caught off guard by the way Keiju grabs his head back and starts kissing him with a renewed vigor, tongue snaking its way inside Minje’s surprised gasp, Minje clutching at Keiju’s shoulders and groaning when Keiju slides their tongues together and sucks Minje’s tongue between his teeth.
“K-Keiju,” Minje’s breath hitches when Keiju pops off Minje’s mouth and starts biting and licking his way down, down, down Minje’s body. “You don’t have to—ohhhhh—!”
Keiju smirks when Minje bucks up with a long, drawn-out moan as Keiju presses the heel of his hand firmly along Minje’s clothed cock, feeling the fabric dampen further beneath his palm.
“I want to,” Keiju murmurs, dipping his tongue into Minje’s navel as his other hand pinches hard on Minje’s nipple, smiling ferally when Minje thrashes helplessly under him. “Fuck, Minje—I want you.”
This is why Keiju ultimately concedes to Minje’s stubborn insistence to always put Keiju’s pleasure first—because it frees Keiju from the distraction of his own body’s needs.
He can concentrate completely on Minje’s pleasure now.
The cry Minje lets out is guttural when Keiju starts mouthing wetly at Minje’s cock through his briefs, feeling it harden further beneath his tongue as it swells against the fabric. The sound ignites something hot in Keiju’s blood, awakening a primal instinct to not just give pleasure—but to mark, to claim, to possess.
Because unlike Minje, Keiju isn’t doing this for some misplaced sense of chivalry. He isn’t doing this for Minje’s sake—not completely. The white-hot urgency of his own pleasure now satiated, there’s a different fire burning within Keiju now—an animalistic urge to claim what is his.
“Stay still,” Keiju orders as Minje frantically tries to remove his briefs. “Let me do this. Let me enjoy this.”
Minje whimpers as he lies back and does as he’s told. “Good boy,” Keiju praises as he takes hold of the garter and starts pulling it down, nipping with his teeth and laving with his tongue each sliver of skin the movement reveals, starting with that soft, sensitive skin beneath Minje’s navel and continuing down the juncture of his thighs. “Let me enjoy you,” he purrs as he noses at the thatch of hair at the base of Minje’s cock.
“Keiju, p-please…”
And this is another point of difference between them: Keiju loves hearing Minje beg. “Eager, aren’t we,” he teases as Minje instinctively bucks up as soon as his cock is freed, seeking the wet warmth of Keiju’s mouth. “Easy, Minje, I have things to do to you first.”
“Keiju.”
Keiju smirks, unbothered by that warning growl. In lieu of replying, his teeth sinks down on the supple skin of Minje’s thigh, satisfying himself with each whimper and hitch of breath Minje makes as Keiju keeps biting and sucking at the skin.
He pulls Minje’s briefs down and finally frees Minje’s legs from it. He tosses the discarded piece of underwear over the bed behind him—sparing a fleeting apologetic thought to the hotel housekeeper—and lifts Minje’s leg over his shoulder.
“K-Keiju! What are you—fuck—”
Minje’s shocked protest patters out to a moan when Keiju starts laving his tongue at the back of Minje’s knee. He nips at the skin and sucks it between his teeth, and Keiju has to hold Minje’s calf firmly as Minje squirms restlessly at the resulting pleasure.
Keiju’s eyes flutter open—and he whimpers against Minje’s thigh as the erotic sight that meets him sends a zing straight to his groin. His body isn’t ready for another orgasm just yet, but if he hadn’t just had one, this sight of Minje alone—legs lewdly spread wide and open, body glistening with sweat, cock as big as the rest of him jutting out and leaking—might just be enough to make Keiju come untouched.
As it is, if only it isn’t too dangerous for them as idols to do so, Keiju desperately wants to memorialize this erotic piece of art laid bare before him with a photo or a video.
This image of Minje spread out on the sweat-soaked sheets like a delicious feast is going to be the primary vision of his fantasies whenever he touches himself.
Keiju bites his lip to stifle his own moan, pressing the heel of his palm to the base of his stirring cock. He savors the sight of the purpling marks all over Minje’s milky skin—from his neck all the way down to his thigh—knowing these will be smarting later on each time Minje moves.
His blood burns hot at the thought of how these marks will secretly exist underneath all the clothes Minje will wear during rehearsals and performances, during fansigns and promotions, during variety show appearances, knowing that with each movement Minje makes, the resulting sting of pleasure-pain will constantly remind Minje of who gave these marks to him.
Whom Minje belongs to.
With a snarl, Keiju hoists Minje’s other thigh so that both his legs are now over Keiju’s shoulders, and proceeds to make symmetrical marks with his teeth and tongue as he makes his way back up Minje’s thigh.
Mine. Keiju’s thoughts are bright and possessive as he bites down a little more harder, sucks the skin through his teeth a little more firmer—Minje groaning a little more louder at Keiju’s none-too-gentle actions. Mine, mine, mine.
“Keiju—” Minje whines, his cock twitching and dribbling in anticipation as Keiju comes closer and closer, “—I feel like I’m going to die.”
“No you won’t,” Keiju fiercely vows as he suckles at the sensitive skin at the juncture of Minje’s thigh. “Because I’ll take care of you.”
You’re mine to take care of.
Mine to love.
Minje’s back arches beautifully off the bed with a loud cry when Keiju closes his mouth over his scrotum, laving the balls with his tongue and suckling each of them in turn.
“No,” Keiju commands, batting Minje’s hand away when it moves to fist his cock automatically. “Don’t touch yourself, I want you to come in my mouth.”
Minje keens helplessly when Keiju licks a long stripe from the base of his cock, catching all the dribbling precum in his mouth before he closes his lips on the head.
“Keiju.” Minje sounds close to crying now. “I-I’m not gonna last long, please—”
His words get choked off when Keiju closes his hand firmly over the base of his cock—god, he’s so big—to keep Minje’s impending orgasm at bay.
“Not yet—” Keiju purrs, “—let me enjoy the taste of you first, you denied it from me for far too long—” and Minje falls back on the pillows with a tortured whine as Keiju starts tonguing the slit, swirling his lips all over the frenulum.
“Keiju—fuck—your mouth—”
“Mmm.” Keiju pops off Minje’s cock with a half-lidded gaze that makes Minje’s eyes go wide, a string of saliva and precum clinging to Keiju’s mouth. He licks his lips to savor that salty-sweet taste. “That is the idea, yes.”
And it’s all the warning Minje gets before Keiju swallows him down all the way to the base of his cock.
Minje’s moans so loudly it echoes through the walls of their hotel room. He’s shaking so badly that Keiju has to firmly hold him down as he slides his head back up with a slurp and suckles the tip of Minje’s cock before going back down again.
He bobs his head and repeats the same slurping, suckling motion a few more times until he feels Minje starting to break apart beneath him. His eyes flutter open as he gazes at the satisfying sight of Minje slowly losing his hold on the last threads of his admirable self-control, fanning a carnal fire to make Minje lose it completely.
Keiju determinedly goes down as far as he can take, until his lips meet his hand at the base and feels the head of Minje’s cock hit the back of his throat.
Then he closes his eyes—and hums.
The zing of shocked, vibrating pleasure makes Minje snap his hips up with a shout—and Keiju, caught completely off guard by the sudden movement, comes off with a surprised choke.
“Keiju,” Minje gasps as he sits up and frantically cups Keiju’s chin. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—are you hurt?”
Minje’s thumb tenderly caresses the seam of Keiju’s lips as he tucks Keiju’s hair behind his ear. Keiju looks up at Minje—and his heart swells a thousandfold inside his chest, it feels like his ribs are going to shatter from it.
He hasn’t felt more in love with Minje than he does at that moment.
‘Take as much as you want from me, Keiju,’ Minje once selflessly offered, and Keiju wants to tell him:
You’re allowed to take from me, too. Take from me as much as you want, because I want to give you all that I have.
All that I am.
Keiju takes Minje’s hand that’s already worriedly stroking his hair and holds it firmly down.
Take it all, Minje. Take me.
Make me yours—the way you’re already mine.
His fingers now threaded in Keiju’s hair, Minje watches with wide eyes as Keiju once again lowers his head.
“Well?” Keiju challenges lowly, smirking. “Don’t make me do all the work.”
He closes his eyes.
“Go on, Minje. Fuck me.”
He opens his mouth, lets the tip of Minje’s cock rest on his tongue—and waits.
The tension that hangs in the air in those few torturous seconds is so thick and heavy, Keiju feels like his body is thrumming with it.
Then Keiju feels that familiar tug of pleasure-pain on his scalp as Minje pulls at his hair—and he isn’t even sure who between them moans louder when Minje finally, finally slides his cock in.
It’s a primal dance they both finally lose themselves in, falling in sync just as easily, just as instinctively as they do with their performances on stage, fated to be each other’s half even in this.
They fall into a rhythm now—Minje pumping his cock in and out of Keiju’s pliant mouth, holding his head to control the movement as Keiju meets each rock of Minje’s hips with a delicious slurp of his lips, hollowing his cheeks to make the slide as hot and as tight as possible as he hums each time Minje’s cock hits his throat.
“Keiju—Keiju—” Minje is panting now, and it makes Keiju shiver in satisfied pleasure at hearing his name being chanted like a prayer, “I’m close, I’m so fucking close, god, god—”
The hand on his hair suddenly tightens inexplicably, the sting on his scalp bordering on painful, and Keiju is momentarily confused—until he senses Minje frantically trying to push him off and starts to pull his hips away.
Oh that won’t do. Minje doesn’t get to be gracious and selfless here when it’s clear this is something they both want.
Keiju grabs Minje’s ass with both hands and roughly pushes Minje’s cock back in—and Minje cries out loud as he comes straight into Keiju’s mouth.
Keiju’s moans, loud and long, and swallows.
He closes his eyes and leisurely suckles every last drop of Minje’s load, palms stroking and kneading Minje’s thighs comfortingly as Minje’s body trembles in the aftershocks of his orgasm. Keiju feels absolutely content to just stay there, the bitter aftertaste of Minje’s cum on his tongue and his cock softening in his mouth, until he feels a shaking hand touch his cheek.
His eyes flutter open to see Minje gazing down at him as if he’s a miracle.
“How are you real?” Minje breathes in wonder, voice rough and broken from exertion. “How are you mine?”
Keiju feels his throat tighten with emotion, and he pulls off of Minje to frantically climb back up his lap to kiss him.
Minje readily welcomes him, holding him tightly as Keiju wraps his legs around his waist; Minje shivers as their tongues swirl together and he tastes himself in Keiju’s mouth.
Cradling Keiju’s face tenderly in both hands, Minje gradually gentles the kiss as he eases off when he finally realizes the implication of what he’s just said.
“Is that okay?” Minje murmurs softly, rubbing his nose hesitantly against Keiju’s. “For you to be mine?”
Keiju looks at this impossibly selfless, impossibly stupid man, and smiles.
“Only,” he whispers against Minje’s lips, his eyes fluttering close, “if you promise to be mine, too.”
—
The end of this secret quagmire is a new beginning
Close your eyes
And when we grow closer, make it even hotter
Light a flame in your heart
—
also posted at AO3
—
Title and lyrics from "Light A Flame" by SEVENTEEN
This is written as a sequel to we meet in the sky. It's why I technically didn't tag this story as "Porn Without Plot", because the plot technically exists in the previous story. I wrote this as a separate, explicit section so that those who don't want to read an explicit story can enjoy the plot separately in itself.
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