Im Jaebum is many things. A singer, a dancer, occasional actor, and the leader of a band of seven utter twats (himself excluded, obviously).

One thing he is not, however, is gay.

So the fact that he's been getting rather strange – no, downright disturbing – messages from other men about the things they want to do to him is rather uncomfortable.

He stares at the picture he's just been sent, wincing at the message that accompanies it. “How would that even get in there?” He mutters, more to himself than anyone else. There's nobody in the room. He doesn't want other people in the room.

His phone buzzes with another message. “Oh, for 's sake – dear Jesus.” He can feel his eyes widen. “Why do people do this?”

“Why do people do what, hyung?” He jumps in surprise as Jinyoung climbs onto his and Youngjae's mattress, peering over his shoulder. “Wow.”

In a flash, Jaebum has shoved his phone under the covers. “What the – you, Jinyoung!” He pushes him as far away from him as he can, horrified that his little problem has been discovered. Oh god. Even the phrases he uses in his head are starting to sound gay.

“Hey, hey,” Jinyoung grins, eyes dancing with mirth, “I didn't know you were into that kind of thing.” He launches himself forward, diving for the phone. They grapple with one another for a moment, but Jinyoung's desperation to cause trouble proves successful.

“Okay,” he says, going quiet. “I really didn't know you were into that kind of thing.” He tilts the phone at a different angle, squinting at it. “.”

Jaebum can feel his cheeks burning. “Give it back,” he growls, mortified. “I keep getting these messages, and they won't stop.” He really, really wants them to stop. Immediately, if possible. Maybe even go back in time and stop it from ever happening. “If this got out...,” he shudders. The fans would – well, he doesn't even want to think about what they'd do. “And I'm not gay,” he mutters, almost offended. “I'm not like that.”

Jinyoung shrugs. “It's not my problem, hyung,” he says, side-eyeing Jaebum slyly. “But clearly you have one.”

“ off, Jinyoung.” He rolls his eyes. “It's Jackson, the idiot. He downloaded some weird app.”

“Forgive me if I'm wrong,” Jinyoung starts, not sounding very deferential at all, “but it's really easy to delete an app you don't want it.” He snorts. “Just find the bloody thing and get rid of it. It's not that hard.” He leans forward, getting right into Jaebum's face in that way he knows makes him uncomfortable. “I just think you're into all this stuff and don't want to admit it.”

Jaebum's only response to that little comment is to shove the last picture in Jinyoung's face and watch him twitch. “I really, really am not into any of this,” he reiterates. He shakes his head, sighing. “Jackson keeps re-downloading it every time I delete it.”

“Well, just turn it off for the meantime, then,” Jinyoung shrugs, bored now Jaebum isn't overreacting. “Jackson will get tired of it and stop eventually, like he always does.” He bares his teeth in a grin. “He's like a five year old. Or a puppy.”

Jaebum snorts, considering. It's an apt description. “Idiot,” he mutters again.

“Why not just make him a profile in revenge?” Jinyoung says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. And really, it kind of is.

He should have thought of this ages ago. Dammit.

“Yes,” he says slowly, “I will.”

***

It turns out that making Jackson a Grindr profile is easier said than done. “What is all this ?” Jaebum stares at the form, completely confused. “Tested? What?” He shrugs. “Oh, it, I'll just sign in with Jackson's Facebook login. It's not like I don't already know it.”

Jinyoung nods. They all know Jackson's login details. Mainly because they have to stop him posting things they really don't want on the internet.

Quickly, Jaebum types in the name and password, and then, when he clicks enter – “Holy ,” he whispers, elbowing Jinyoung, their little spat forgotten in the shock of what he's just found. “Jackson already has one!”

Jinyoung grabs the phone off of him, staring at it. “Maybe someone already made one as a joke?”

“Maybe,” Jaebum agrees, shifting uneasily, “maybe.”

They scroll down it, averting their eyes when a rather revealing picture of Jackson appears. They've already seen everything he has to offer, thank you very much. They don't need to see any more. Especially not in that...position.

“Hey, look,” Jinyoung points at the screen. “There's a little bio.” They lean both forward, guiltily unable to resist reading it.

“...I don't even want to know what any of this means,” Jaebum pushes the phone away. “No. I'm done. Let's just forget we ever saw this and I'm going to get a new phone. That's the end of it.”

“The end of what?”

And that's when Jackson walks – or rather, saunters – in.

***

Unable to think of an appropriate response, Jaebum and Jinyoung just blink at him. Jaebum recovers first, ing his phone in his jeans pocket. It's not really a safe place – Jackson is known for being happy to go into inappropriate areas – but it's better than having it on display for everyone to see.

“Nothing,” he says hastily, sitting up straight. He is the leader. He will look powerful. He will exude control – oh, it, nobody's ever been able to control Jackson.

Jackson narrows his eyes, clearly unconvinced. “Sure,” he says, “sure.” He eyes each of them in turn. “You don't look like you've been doing anything suspicious at all.” He steps back, folding his arms. “Wait,” he smirks, “don't tell me you two just kissed, or something.”

“Why the hell would you think that?” Jaebum asks, horrified. Jinyoung looks mildly put out at his disgust – is the idea of kissing him that gross? He's a good kisser. “You get off on it, or something?” He says gruffly.

Jackson carries on smirking, and shrugs lightly. “I might. It's not a bad image.”

Normally, Jaebum would have a snappy comeback for this – especially as Jackson's grasp of Korean is still shaky – but he's still too traumatised by the Grindr profile. “Don't you dare,” he warns, pointing a finger at him. “You're getting nowhere near my .”

“Yeah, right,” Jackson snorts, delighting in how uncomfortable Jaebum is. “You've got no worries on that score, Jaebum.” He winks.

Jaebum's brow wrinkles in confusion. “What?”

Jinyoung coughs. “Er. Um.” He looks anywhere but Jackson. “You know, Jae. Like, gay .”

“Oh .” Jaebum pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jackson likes it up the .” He sighs. “I really didn't need to know that, but I suppose it makes sense.” He shoots a dark look at Jackson's grinning face. “He is lazy as .”

“Hey,” Jackson seems to take offence at this, scowling. “I'm a power bottom. I take it anywhere.” He gives Jaebum a onceover. “And get over yourself, Jaebum. Try sticking stuff up there. It's amazing.”

Jaebum winces involuntarily. “That's it,” he says, standing up. “You've finally done it,” he tells them as he strides towards the door. “I can't do this anymore.”

As the door swings shut, Jinyoung and Jackson share a look. “Do you think he's going to come back?” Jinyoung asks, wondering if they should be worried. It's not going to do them – or their band – much good if they've just lost their leader. And if they have, he really doesn't want to get the blame for it.

Jackson shrugs, reclining comfortably against the bed. “He'll be back,” he tells him, unconcerned.

An awkward silence reigns for a few moments, before Jinyoung speaks again. “Hey, Jackson?”

“Hmm?” Jackson responds, head lying on his arms.

“Are you really a power bottom?” He shoots a meaningful glance at Jackson's – thankfully clothed – crotch. “Seems a bit of a waste, with a like that.”

Jackson cracks another grin, eyes shut. “You wouldn't say that if you'd had Mark's in you,” he assures him, shifting his head. “You really wouldn't.”

Jinyoung tries not to gag at the image.