JieMi
He didn't understand why he had gone down on her.
There had been no need for him to, and he knew that when his cock had been on the brink of bursting with his seed. The pleasure would have come without the taste of her on his tongue, but he couldn't help it as drunk on lust as he was. He couldn't help it, with his heart so full with a preview of her love. And God, it had been amazing. Her hands on his burning skin, her scent thick in the air, and her taste coating his tongue like the sweetest of honey.
He could make his excuses, say that it was all just the soul bond, it was all because of the rabbit that he didn't identify with. But the soul bond was, whether he liked it or not, all him, and it wouldn't change the fact that he didn't regret pleasuring her with his tongue. He didn't regret walking into that laundry room, he didn't regret looking at her as she came apart. Her face flushed pink, hair messy with curls, eyes dark from dilated pupils, thighs splayed to reveal the prettiest of colours, skin trembling hot under his fingers.
Yes, God was a woman.
And it had been a taste of Heaven.
"Cut!"
JieMi inhaled sharply, stumbling a little, his eyes darting up into the camera. He'd forgotten that he was in the middle of a shoot, had been so distracted that nothing, not even the spotlight in his eyes, could draw him from his thoughts. Fuck, he cursed in his head, fingers tightening into fists. This was not the time to think about her. This was not the time to fuck up.
"JieMi, same mistake as before. Let's do it once more." He flinched at those words, nervously biting on his lip. Not again, goddamn it. The eyes of his team burned into his skin, pushing him for an explanation. Something he didn't want to give.
He needed them to know that he was okay, that he was fine and everything was perfect. He'd fucked up with the text, sent their minds into a messy whirlwind of questions that they tried to ask whenever they caught him alone.
MinJae had pulled him to the side after dance practice, placed his hands on his shoulders, and asked if he wanted to go for a drink. Oliver had given him the looks at the company, eyes filled with questions and concern. Sieon had stared at him all night in their bedroom waiting for him to speak.
Fucking hell, it was exhausting.
"Sorry," he groaned, not knowing what else he could say as he repositioned his body. His mind everywhere but the studio. He just wanted it all to end, wanted to go home, relax on the couch and watch a movie. He wanted to pretend that there was nothing to solve, no shit storm to clean up, no strings to untangle. He wanted to sit on the couch with his brothers and Amber in his arms— "Fuck, just not in the mood."
"You okay? Need a break?" MinJae asked, a gentle hand on his back and JieMi shook his head. A break would just give him more time to think about her. A break would draw him further into his head. A break would make the pain in his chest unbearable. A break would mean loneliness. Him on his chair, them with her in their room. A break would mean a counselling session with his personal inner demons. He didn't know which was the demon these days, the one that told him to break and concede or the one that told him to stand tall.
"We don't have all day you know?" Sieon drawled, jerking a thumb in the direction of where they had last seen their soulmate, an irritated scowl on his handsome face, harshly illuminated by the crown of gold vines on his head. Beautiful and ethereal, every bit the demon king he was supposed to represent.
In JieMi's eyes, Sieon was the most handsome in the group; he was all chiselled, sharp lines where JieMi was curves and rotund flab. And his older brother had been just as handsome in the laundry room, rippling with muscle and towering over his frame as he fucked their soulmate with vigour. There had been amusement and anger coiling in his eyes, twin snakes that snarled at him for intruding into his safe haven.
JieMi hadn't noticed much, not until the very last bit when he'd came down from his high. He'd fallen flat on his back as he watched Sieon kiss his soulmate, as he watched Sieon murmur his love for her in a honeyed voice that was warm with affection. A tone that never graced his usually sombre voice. It was a side of him that JieMi didn't know, a side of him that JieMi rarely saw. And the pain that had blossomed in his chest had almost swallowed him whole.
A splash of raw sewage over his head after gorging himself fat and juicy on ambrosia.
JieMi glanced up at Sieon again, eyes drifting over his frame, reading his body language. He blinked, bedazzled momentarily by the sheen of metal on his neck, the choker tight on his throat, and the chains pretty against the shimmery vest he had on. He blinked again. Frustration, irritation, concern. Concern? His eyes drifted to the downturn of his best friend's lips and the man only scowled.
"She's waiting for us to film her scenes."
Her scenes. Of course. Of course, the concern wasn't for him. Or was it?
"Isn't she getting ready?" Casper's voice trailed from behind him, a distraction that he accepted thankfully.
"She should be done by now." Ezra's. "We've given them plenty of time. And our stylists are trained for the concert. If they could do everything backstage in the darkness with us jumping about, this will be fucking easy." He snorted, and JieMi could hear the dance of a smile on his lips.
Ezra smiled more now that Amber was in their lives. Everyone smiled more, there were no more tears, no more nightmares, no more suffering. And JieMi should be happy for their happiness as a good best friend. He should be thankful that they no longer cried for their soulmate. He should be happy.
But why wasn't he happy?
An idiotic question with an answer that JieMi knew but had to deny.
"Who will she be filming with first?" MinJae chuckled, popping the kinks in his back. "Karu?"
"We're easing into it. It should be JieMi's..."
They looked at him then, their eyes grazing his frame, soft, warm, and yet their gaze felt like knives raking across his bare skin. It had been the director's idea to use their soulmate for their new concept, a hint to their fans that they were taken men. And JieMi had been the only one against it in the unanimous vote amongst the team.
He'd stood, the chair clattering noisily behind him, the action bringing attention straight to his frame. All eyes had been on him and he had not cared. And he'd stared at them all, at the board, at his team, quiet and shaking. No. He'd said. She can't be in our film. He wasn't in the right mind to give better excuses. And he should have. Maybe something about her safety, maybe something about their protection of her from their fans, maybe something about profit. Ironic, coming from someone like him.
Ezra had scoffed at his decision, Sieon had shot him frustrated glares. Hikaru had sighed. They told him that her face wouldn't be in the film, that all fans would see would be an ethereal unknown figure. That all fans would see would be the embodiment of desire and beauty, the icon of perfection, just as how statues were to humanity.
But they didn't understand. She couldn't be in his music video; they couldn't get actual footage of his face with her. Because he couldn't control himself when she was there. His eyes were always too damn fucking honest. Like the picture she had captured for their homework, the footage they would obtain would depict a side of JieMi that he didn't want to reveal. A side of him that would answer all their questions.
And he was afraid of what more they could find within his eyes.
"Let's finish this quickly, I'm excited to do a scene with her."
Casper's voice was higher than usual, strained with his excitement, pitched with his eagerness. It wasn't just him. The rest of the team were just as excited, desperate to move on from dancing to acting. Because to them, it would be easy to display their love for her on their faces. To them, it was easy to hold her in their arms and kiss her. To them, it was easy, because they loved her.
And JieMi...JieMi...