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"Are you going to make me say it out loud?" Juri presses while Jesse stands still in the door frame.
It was a bit absurd how they came to that situation.
The recent overwhelming stress and exhaustion, both mental and physical, have been taking a toll on Juri for the past week. Once behind the closed doors of their dressing room, he assumed none of the members would return for a while. According to the schedule handed to them, everyone else was booked for individual interviews or costume planning for the next few hours.
Honestly, Juri even wasn't in a specific mood for sticking his cock anywhere. He didn't feel like fucking anyone. He certainly wasn't planning to jerk off once he had a chance to do so.
However, in the quiet solitude of the dressing room, fatigue seemed to cast its spell over him.
As he relaxed into the chair with a half-eaten bento box in front of him, a subtle awareness spread through him, and he became conscious of an unexpected hardness in his groin. It was an involuntary response, a physical reaction to the strain he had been under.
His instinct was to dive his hand into his pants, wrapping a hand around his cock and starting to stroke it with slow motions.
Juri's hand retreats in an instant as the dressing room door swings open, exposing Jesse's entrance.
The two exchange a glance, and there, in Jesse's expression, is a blend of surprise and embarrassment.
Oddly, Jesse appears even more embarrassed than Juri, telling a lot about the extent of Juri's exhaustion and how little he cares.
"Hey, my interview got rescheduled for the afternoon," Jesse says casually. He still looks a bit dazzled.
"Oh, okay. That's fine."
Jesse sends Juri a dubious look. "I can go and leave you alone--"
"Jesse."
"Juri?"
Juri shakes his head. "Are you going to make me say it out loud?" he asks.
Without uttering a single word, Jesse takes a deliberate step before closing a door behind him. He moves silently across the room and comes to stand behind Juri, his arm finding a comfortable place on Juri's shoulder. Leaning in, Jesse's lips hover close to Juri's ear, and when he speaks, his voice emerges husky.
"Why don't you say it out loud then?"
Jesse's hand moves downwards, gliding from Juri's shoulder to trace an intricate pattern on his clothed chest with his fingers. Each touch of his fingertips has a teasing vibe, stirring a mounting desire inside Juri, and he feels he will explode soon if Jesse doesn't touch him properly.
"I hope this isn't inappropriate in your opinion," Juri mutters. He brings his hand on top of Jesse's and guides it lower to his stomach.
"Shhh, men do stuff like this all the time."
His breath catches at Jesse's whispered assurance.
Juri swallows and nods, sending Jesse an encouraging affirmation that it's alright, that it's okay. He wants — needs — his touch.
Yet, before Juri can properly collect himself, Jesse's hand daringly slips beneath his waistband. A sharp inhale escapes Juri as he instinctively bucks into the touch, a fiery wave of heat coursing through him.
Being touched by someone else feels so different, so electric.
Jesse places his palm flat over the expanse of Juri's shaft, starting with deliberate slowness, gently massaging his hardened member. Every touch of his seems to appreciate the whole length and width of it.
Then, with teasing finesse, Jesse begins caressing Juri's dick from the base to the top with his fingertips.
Juri pants harshly, unable to suppress the involuntary wiggle of his hips on the chair. He yearns for the freedom to discard his pants and fully release himself, yet paradoxically, he can't bear the thought of Jesse's hand leaving him.
Jesse takes hold of Juri's cock, trying out an experimental firm stroke. Juri gasps loudly, prompting them to shift their position a little bit. In response, Jesse kneels down closer to Juri, resting his head on Juri's shoulder.
The sensations grow more intense with Jesse's head nestled against Juri's shoulder. Jesse's nose presses against Juri's neck and the warmth of his breath tingles against Juri's skin. The rough texture of Jesse's beard adds a touch of delightful harshness, a sensation that Juri finds surprisingly erotic and arousing.
"Don't stop," Juri pleads.
Juri senses Jesse smirking against his neck, and without missing a beat, Jesse continues pumping him. The pace is deliberate, creating a slow and almost torturous rhythm. Juri can't help but groan in protest, attempting to assert his own want by bucking his hips upwards, seeking a faster rhythm.
Jesse places his thumb on the tip of the head, massages it, spreading precome, and then strokes Juri harder.
"Yeah, yeah, like that, yeah—" Juri moans.
Jesse keeps pumping him, fastening the rhythm as the strokes become tight and short moves.
Juri's hips stutter uncontrollably as he comes all over Jesse's hand, inside his pants like a teenager.
Jesse fishes his hand away from Juri's pants and looks at his hand.
"Don't--" Juri tries to stop him, but Jesse doesn't listen. He brings his hand to his mouth and starts licking it clean.
"I don't mind, you taste good," Jesse says.
Juri would like to protest more, but he's utterly tired, exhaustion spreading to his every limb, so he only throws his head back and closes his eyes.
"I hope you're feeling better," Jesse continues, giving a reassuring pat on Juri's shoulder. "And I hope you're not feeling weird about this. Like I said, guys do this kind of stuff all the time. I don't mind helping again in the future."
Juri smiles contently. Honestly, he'd very much like to kiss Jesse, but taking that step would make it weird.
"From now on, I will remember who's going to be my handjob lord."