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He gets caught off guard one year into joining the group.
Baekhyun’s usually got fantastic control; his tolerance level is sky-high, and it has to be, considering the fact that he’s a member of a twelve-member group extremely prone to skinship. It’s just one night that he slips, and all of it gets shot to hell.
They’ve been practicing for hours and hours straight, getting ready for an important performance on some show that Baekhyun can’t even remember the name of now, already so exhausted from the constant push of movement through the same song, over and over. Nights like these always test his limits, but Baekhyun’s always thought himself to be able to handle it.
When they manage to wheedle a fifteen minute break from their instructor, Baekhyun sinks to the floor against one of the mirrored walls, panting in earnest. He allows Sehun to hand him a bottle of water, and tries not to chug it all down in one go.
Things are fine, he’s perfectly fine. Just, up to the point where his exhaustion bites too hard, and he doesn’t realise that he’s not reeled in himself enough, and Jongdae offers him a hand up.
The second Jongdae’s fingers come in contact with Baekhyun’s, he lets out a shaky gasp, the sharp feeling of arousal shooting straight through his body. Jongdae blinks at him, not comprehending the situation at all, and Baekhyun feels like he might keel over at any second. “Baekhyun,” Jongdae says in confusion, attracting the attention of the other members, but Baekhyun shakes his head.
“Let go, let go,” he whispers hurriedly, and Jongdae releases his grasp on Baekhyun’s hand. Baekhyun immediately pulls his hand back to himself and slumps against the mirrors, frantically calling back his control over the situation. By the time the feeling has finally faded away, all the other members are giving him strange looks.
Joonmyun, ever the intrepid one, broaches the issue cautiously. “What... what was that all about?” By now, they know enough to make the conversation seem as casual as possible without drawing the attention of anybody else in the room, and Baekhyun is thankful for that.
He shoots Joonmyun a look which clearly says, not here, later, and Joonmyun gives a short nod in understanding, narrowing his eyes in a motion that asks, how serious? Baekhyun decides to be honest, and tilts his head far enough to say, somewhat.
“Family meeting later,” Joonmyun says quietly, and then his patented leader smile is back on his features in the next moment, “alright guys! Back to practice. We’ve got to do well for tomorrow, and it’s not nice to keep our instructor waiting on us.”
They scuttle away like mice, and Baekhyun resists the impulse to kick himself. How could he have been so careless?
“Spill,” says Joonmyun immediately, once they've all gathered in the living area of the dorm, and Baekhyun feels everyone’s eyes on him. “What was that about? Did you injure your hand recently and not tell anyone? We can’t afford any of that, Baekhyun, you know that.”
Jongdae looks horrified at the thought that he might have caused further injury to Baekhyun’s hand, but Baekhyun shakes his head, assuaging them. “I’m not injured. It’s… it’s a whole different issue. I guess it’s my fault, I told the company to not tell anyone,” he continues, and the others look confused, “and I told them I could hide it. But I guess I can’t.”
“Hide what?” inquires Yifan, and he says, “You know we can trust each other.”
“I know that,” says Baekhyun meekly, glancing around to take in everyone’s faces. “I was born into a family with a very strange hereditary trait. It’s something genetic, you see. Like people with red hair, or people with a certain facial feature, or height, maybe. This might sound impossible, but, uhm. My, uhm,” Baekhyun pauses, feeling his face begin to redden, “primary erogenous zones are wired differently compared to other people.”
Only some of them get it. The Chinese members look extremely confused, until Chanyeol helpfully sounds it out for Yifan, and he explains it to the rest of them.
Baekhyun, in the meanwhile, is drowning in embarrassment, and he bites his lip nervously when Kyungsoo asks, “What do you mean by that, exactly?”
“Well,” starts Baekhyun quietly, and he waves downwards. “You know. Sex and all that. Normal people get turned on when someone’s touching them in a certain place. And all that. You know. Do I really have to explain about this?” he says, cringing, and their eyes are slightly wider than they were before.
“Are you saying that you get turned on when people touch your hands?” asks Jongin incredulously. “I can’t—what? Is this some kind of elaborate prank, or something?”
“No, you dolt!” Baekhyun grits his teeth. “I usually can hide it really well. I have really good control over it. When I have to hold something, I just shut out the feelings. It’s just that… I tend to slip sometimes. Like earlier. I was just so tired.”
“Oh, God,” says Jongdae, and he makes a strange sound in his throat that rumbles through Baekhyun slightly. “I am so, so sorry, oh my God.”
Baekhyun’s traitorous little mind helpfully supplies him with a reminder of warm skin against his own, and he swallows hard, eyes wide. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you guys.” He fidgets absentmindedly with the hem of his shirt, and notices how everyone’s gazes trail after his fingers.
There’s a short pause, before Joonmyun collects himself, and says slowly, “Well… since there’s nothing we can really do about this… we’ll just trust that you keep a hold on this and not let anything weird happen in public, at the very least.”
“Thanks,” says Baekhyun weakly.
He watches everyone disperse, talking quietly amongst themselves, and Jongdae comes up to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Again, sorry about that,” he says, but there’s a curious glint in his eyes that Baekhyun notes, and his fingers twitch slightly. Jongdae doesn’t notice, but he says, “Has it always been like this?”
“Yeah,” whispers Baekhyun, and he lets a small laugh pass his lips. “But it’s been a while, though.”
“Ah,” says Jongdae, but he’s already turning away to slink back to his room, and just as Baekhyun does the same, he feels the slightest brush against the side of his wrist, and it pulls a soft whine from him, making him spin around, eyes wide.
Jongdae is already closing the door behind him.
Over the next few days, Baekhyun is extra careful to not let himself slip. The other members are helpful though, and stay away from his hands as much as possible, resigning themselves to putting their arms over his shoulder, or grasping him by the elbow, or taking hold of his forearm. He hopes the fans don’t notice, he dearly hopes, and manages to get through the week without event.
Jongdae, however, seems to be out of his mind, and is driving Baekhyun out of his as well, with the way he’s going out of his way to initiate skinship almost constantly, and Baekhyun almost doesn’t see through his little ruse.
It’s after a long day, in the van on the way back, that Jongdae casually dips the tip of his index finger along the curve of Baekhyun’s thumb, and Baekhyun freezes, trying to hold in place. Jongdae doesn’t even spare him a glance, still chatting away to Minseok about some Chinese dish that caught his eye back when they were in Shanghai for a concert, and Baekhyun breathes out shakily.
He should be holding fine. Why is he even affected? His control over the situation is diminishing as Jongdae looks over and flashes him a naughty grin. Fuck. Baekhyun nearly swears out loud as well. Jongdae knows perfectly well what he’s doing, and Baekhyun can’t do a damned thing about it.
Then, as suddenly as it had occurred, Jongdae’s hand has retracted, and Baekhyun’s head is slightly dizzy, as the feeling lingers, sending sharp spikes through his body, and he can’t hold it any longer.
On reaching home, Baekhyun immediately dashes to the bathroom, grabbing a towel in the process, leaving behind a lame excuse of needing to use the toilet and take a shower at the same time, but he doesn’t miss the fact that Jongdae doesn’t even try to hide his grin.
He locks the door and turns on the water, before peeling off his clothes and stepping into the shower space. He’s already half-hard, and it’s been such a long time. Baekhyun moans quietly, the sound absorbed by the rushing water, and drags his fingers down his lips, letting his teeth scrape gently over his fingertips. He hasn’t jerked off like this in a long time, but whenever he does, it’s incredibly filling.
It’s also terribly filthy as well, with the way he palms his cock with one hand, and has the fingers of the other hand in his own mouth. He can taste himself on his fingers, tongue wrapping around the slender digits easily. The dual sensations are enough to push him close to the edge, and Baekhyun’s breath comes out in hard puffs around the fingers in his mouth.
He leans back against the wall of the shower space, and shuts his eyes. The memory of Jongdae’s teasing, soft strokes suddenly flashes through his mind, and a strangled sound rips itself from his throat at the thought of Jongdae being the one sucking on his fingers, and he bites down on his knuckles, making himself come so hard that he nearly blanks out for a moment or two.
He lowers himself to the wet floor, feeling the water splatter against his face, and he allows himself a few minutes just inhaling and exhaling, still immersed in the high contracted during the climax. He realises that he’s still mouthing absentmindedly at his fingers, and he pulls them away, wincing at the light red bite marks around the joints of his fingers. He hopes that can be covered up enough. He’s aware of the online pseudo-shrines fans have built to his hands. How ironic that they don’t even know the half of it.
Emerging from the bathroom, he shuts himself away in his room, playing a game to distract himself until it’s too late to keep the light on, and he goes to sleep, trying not to dream about fingers or hands or Jongdae.
He does.
Jongdae doesn’t even touch him in the slightest after that day, and Baekhyun wonders what kind of a game he thinks he’s playing. It’s driving him crazy, and after that day, it seems he’s beginning to get sloppy with tolerating contact to his hands. He almost flips when Chanyeol grabs his hand on stage as they bow after a performance, and Joonmyun approaches him after that.
“Look,” he says, “you said you could handle this. Whatever’s the matter, solve it soon, please, for our sakes.” Joonmyun’s expression softens slightly, and he clasps a hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder. “Is there—do you need someone? To help you? With this thing?” His voice has gone strangely high by the end of his sentences, and Baekhyun nearly squeaks, shaking his head insistently.
“Oh, God, no, no,” mutters Baekhyun, and Joonmyun looks relieved. He doesn’t want to know who Joonmyun might have suggested to ‘help him out,’ and he forces out a short laugh. “It’s fine. I can deal with it. Don’t worry about a thing.”
And by dealing with it, he means confronting Jongdae about what he’s been doing.
“You idiot,” hisses Baekhyun, after shepherding Jongdae into his bedroom and locking the door, but Jongdae doesn’t say a word. “What are you doing? Don’t you know it’s getting harder to control with you—you doing all this stuff?"
“What stuff?” Jongdae’s face is the very picture of innocence, and Baekhyun nearly throws his arms up in frustration.
“You know! Touching my hands, holding onto my wrists.” Baekhyun swallows, and continues, waveringly, “stroking my fingers, pressing against those really sensitive spots—“
“Like this?” And before he knows it, Jongdae’s sidled up beside him, and Jongdae grabs his hand, holding it up, and pressing his thumb into the cleft between his third and fourth fingers. Baekhyun gasps, eyes fluttering shut without even realising, his entire body contracting in shudders, and Jongdae looks absolutely delighted, curling his thumb to run down Baekhyun’s palm, scraping his nail against skin.
“Fuck,” breathes Baekhyun, barely able to stand, “how did you even k-know that, oh fuck, Jongdae, please—“
“Please what?” asks Jongdae with a grin, but his eyes are half-lidded and dark, observing Baekhyun with an almost predatory gleam, and Baekhyun can barely bite back the moan that pushes its way out of him, when Jongdae presses right there, in the middle of his wrist where his veins stand out prominently, and Baekhyun tries valiantly to pull his hands back to himself.
He’s getting deliriously aroused by now, and he needs to get off, he can’t handle it anymore, he’s painfully hard, and oh fuck, thinks Baekhyun again, wanting nothing more than to close his teeth over his fingers right now.
But Jongdae has an even better idea, and he pushes Baekhyun back against the bed, not relinquishing his hold on Baekhyun’s hand. He straddles Baekhyun’s waist, and says quietly, “I have a habit.”
Baekhyun stares at him, breathing coming quicker now, and he thinks back, and remembers all the times he’s made fun of Jongdae for having an alleged oral fixation: biting paper, passports, handfans, phones, microphones, pens, even the other members once or twice. Oh, he thinks, and his heart thumps wildly against his chest. And he understands why Jongdae’s looking at him like that now.
Jongdae smiles. “I’d like to put your fingers in my mouth now.”
“Please,” whispers Baekhyun immediately, and he keens when Jongdae presses a soft kiss to his wrist, trailing his lips up against the side of his hand. Jongdae stops at the tip of his little finger, and darts his tongue out to press against it. Baekhyun tilts his head back against the mattress, a soft moan elicited from his lips, and Jongdae, spurred on by it, takes Baekhyun’s fingers into his mouth slowly, the wet heat from his tongue wrapped around Baekhyun’s fingers shooting straight through him, and Baekhyun whines, saying breathlessly, “Jongdae, fuck, please, Jongdae, I need—I need—“
“You need me to bite you?” completes Jongdae for him, and before Baekhyun can even nod an agreement, Jongdae’s already lightly biting down on his fingers, sliding his tongue obscenely against skin, and Baekhyun’s back arches slightly, the sounds coming from his own mouth sounding almost unreal.
His other hand is snatched up by Jongdae after that, and Jongdae interlaces their fingers, pressing down hard, and the combination of the two is hitting Baekhyun so hard, he doesn’t even care that Jongdae hasn’t touched any other part of him yet. He crooks the fingers in Jongdae’s mouth for more access, and Jongdae is leaving bruises all over his fingers, he knows, but it’s just so good that Baekhyun just whispers for more, wanting Jongdae to lick harder, to bite harder, to make him really feel it.
And he does, coming with his toes curled and his fingers gripping hard in Jongdae’s hand and mouth, and the low cry that comes from his throat is echoed in Jongdae’s eyes.
When it’s over, Jongdae looks inordinately pleased with himself, and Baekhyun snorts at him. “Fuck you. You could’ve let me take off my pants before you did that.” His jeans are ruined.
“You mean you don’t want to take them off now?” Jongdae’s smile is wicked, and Baekhyun loves it, and he leans up to press his lips to Jongdae’s as he pulls his fingers away, and they kiss messily, with Baekhyun making sure to nip at Jongdae’s lower lip a couple of times. Jongdae breathes out hard, and whispers, “I am the fucking luckiest person in the world.”
“Damn straight,” says Baekhyun, and he kisses Jongdae again, knocking their noses together, curling his ankle over Jongdae’s, slipping his fingers into Jongdae’s dark hair and tugging gently. “Let’s fuck,” he murmurs, and Jongdae laughs, eyes shining.
“Let’s,” says Jongdae, and Baekhyun laughs this time, when Jongdae rolls them over to exchange positions. “I’ll let you be on top,” he whispers, and the glint in his eyes makes Baekhyun lick his lip, already imagining it.
He’s very glad the door has been locked beforehand, as he trails his fingers down Jongdae’s front to tease at the zipper of his jeans, and when Jongdae says exactly that, Baekhyun just laughs, and kisses him again.
What a funny little thing, genetics.