Work Text:
It’s that time of year again when it’s cold enough to snow during the night, but not enough for the snow to stick, melted away by mid morning, leaving icy puddles in its wake. Really, it’s not the ideal weather for a graduation ceremony. February has always been cold, wet, and sometimes miserable. It’s not how Hanbin imagined the end of his university days to be celebrated, relying mostly on hand warmers and bouncing feet, struggling to generate enough energy to beat the chill. His certificate of graduation feels light between his fingers, proof of the four years of hard work he’s put into becoming a teacher, but it looks rather plain like this. Hanbin isn’t sure if this hollow feeling is because the pride of graduating hasn’t quite hit him yet or if he really doesn’t have anything else left to give.
For the duration of his degree, Hanbin has remained wholly focused on his studies and saving for his future. While his friends would go out to celebrate after exams, he would be on his way to the dance studio, clocking in to his part time job to put away money over the break. Hanbin has never gone to a club, or a bar, or even a friend’s house for a few drinks. His best friend from the dance studio, Seok Matthew, never stops inviting him, though. Matthew works full-time at the studio and balances his party life with practised ease, much to Hanbin’s occasional chagrin. Every weekend Matthew will have a new story to tell, and Hanbin listens with rapt attention, soaking in each word like he’s living it himself. Hanbin tries to tell himself he isn’t missing out on anything, because he’s working on something different for himself, and that’s okay. Still, standing with his family on his graduation day, having missed out on what most would call the standard university experience, he wonders if all of it was worth it. Many of his peers are graduating alongside him, the same ones who party after exams and sometimes during them, too. Sure, his grades have been the best, and he has a hefty savings account, but he hasn’t had any fun.
Matthew throws an arm around his shoulders, smiling widely with pride. Of course Matthew would come to his graduation ceremony—ever since Hanbin started working at the studio, they’ve been inseparable. “Ah, my hyung is all grown up with a degree,” Matthew sighs wistfully, swaying them side to side. “What am I supposed to do when you find a full time job as an elementary teacher and I never see you at the studio anymore?”
“Don’t be stupid,” Hanbin huffs, ears red. “Obviously I’ll be working at the studio on the weekends.”
Matthew knocks Hanbin across the head, scowling. “Hyung! You workaholic! If you collapse, Bada ssaem will never forgive you!”
“Only because then I wouldn’t be there to teach the next class,” Hanbin teases, but he knows Matthew is right, to an extent. While his teacher pushes him quite hard, she still cares for his health.
“You need to relax now that you’ve finally graduated,” Matthew announces, sounding firm. “Jiwoong-hyung, Taerae, Gyuvin and I are going out tonight. You should come!”
For the first time, Hanbin considers it.
Matthew is expecting him to say no. He always truly means it when he invites Hanbin, but he knows Hanbin never says yes. That’s the way Hanbin is. He probably already has a job offer lined up (he does) and wants to go make lesson plans or something, in Matthew’s imagination. Or he’ll go straight to the studio and start choreographing a new dance, because Hanbin is constantly inspired, and his brain never stops turning. Bada Lee tells him earnestly that he could be an idol choreographer, if he dedicated all his time to dance, or even a backup dancer. He could have been an idol himself, if he worked for it. In this life, Hanbin went the safe route. Life’s too uncertain to take more risks than necessary.
There’s a part of him though, deep down, that wishes he made a different decision, and now it feels too late. Even though he’s only twenty-two, he can’t help but feel as though he’s run out of time. He doesn’t think there’s any room for mistakes. He has to make all the right choices, because otherwise he’ll be set too far back for success.
What is success, really?
Hanbin can’t remember the last time he was really happy.
“Okay,” Hanbin says softly. His hands are shaking, slightly. “I’ll come.”
Matthew jumps in front of him, looking up at him with wide eyes. “What, seriously? You’ll come? Sung Hanbin wants to come out?”
Hanbin nods, refusing to waver in his resolve. “That’s what I said.”
Matthew smiles widely, but it disappears just as quickly as he seems to realise something. “Oh, man, we gotta change the place we’re going. Let me message the boys, hold on.”
Hanbin grabs Matthew’s wrist before he can reach for his phone, furrowing his brow. “What? No. Why would you have to change the place? Let’s just go wherever you were planning on going.”
For some reason, Matthew’s cheeks flush, and he suddenly can’t meet Hanbin’s eyes. “Nah, seriously, we should go somewhere tamer. They’ll be so excited you’re coming, they don't care where we go. I don’t care either! It’ll be so fun, I know so many places—”
“Tamer?” Hanbin interrupts. “You don’t think I can handle it?”
Matthew sighs. “Hyung, please. I’m not trying to insult you. You’ve told me so many times that you’ve never been anywhere more risque than one of our dance shows. I want you to have a good time, not be uncomfortable. Don’t you trust me?”
“I don’t want to go if you change the plans. I won’t go if you change the plans.” Hanbin is determined in this. He refuses to be treated like a kid by his own dongsaeng. He knows that Matthew is right and that he probably will freak out the second he sees someone bring out pills or a baggy of cocaine, but that’s the experience he wants to have. That’s what he’s missed out on for four years and it hasn’t felt worth it at all. Not that he wants to snort cocaine. That sounds scary.
The pair of them stare each other down in a standstill until Matthew finally gives in, groaning loudly. “Listen, hyung,” he says desperately, grabbing Hanbin by both of his shoulders, “it’s not what you think. You’re not even allowed to drink at the place we’re going. There’s no bar. It’s not that kind of club.”
“What’s the point of going to a club if it’s the no drinking kind? How is that not tame enough for me? Do you think I’m that weak?” At this point, Hanbin is starting to feel a bit insulted.
With one last sigh, Matthew seems to accept that he’s just going to have to say it. “Hyung. Well. It’s sort of. Kind of like a sex club?”
Oh.
Maybe Hanbin isn’t cut out for this after all.
Hanbin also isn’t a quitter.
“Wow, I can’t believe you’re actually here,” Jiwoong says, arm thrown around Taerae’s shoulders as they walk towards the club. “This place is a bit crazy for your first time.”
“Can you guys stop saying ‘first time’?” Hanbin mutters, cheeks blushing red. Gyuvin has been harping on about joining Hanbin for his ‘first time’ for the past fifteen minutes. “It makes it weird.”
“Trust me, it’s going to be weirder once we get inside,” Taerae insists, but he seems excited about it.
“Yeah!” Gyuvin exclaims. He’s skipping ahead of them, swinging his arms like a kid. Apparently there’s some guy Gyuvin likes who frequents this club and Gyuvin gets this pumped to meet him every time. “Super weird! Do you think Ricky will look at me today?”
“Ricky looks at you every time,” Matthew says, “don’t be so dramatic.”
“Really?!” Gyuvin squeals. He starts to run full-speed down the road. “My husband, I am on my way!”
“Look at him?” Hanbin repeats. Jiwoong laughs.
“Ricky barely gives Gyuvin the time of day, but Gyuvin is obsessed with him. It’s kind of their thing,” he explains. Hanbin frowns.
“Isn’t Gyuvin kind of harassing him then, or something? If this guy doesn’t like him then why is he so excited?”
“Oh, Ricky likes him,” Taerae corrects, rolling his eyes. “That’s how they work.”
“I’m confused,” Hanbin admits.
Matthew tugs on Hanbin’s sleeve. “Remember how I said it was a sex club?” Hanbin nods. “Well, you know.” Hanbin doesn’t. Matthew makes a face. “People have unique sorts of dynamics there. You’ll see when we get in. Even Jiwoong-hyung and Taerae have their own thing going on.”
“Jiwoong-hyung and Taerae are a perfectly normal couple,” Hanbin says. They’ve turned down a short alleyway. Hanbin can't see an obvious entrance anywhere, but the rest seem to know where they’re going, so Hanbin follows.
“Um, well, I guess,” Matthew says, just as Taerae pulls a collar out of his pocket and clips it around Jiwoong’s neck.
“Good boy,” they hear Taerae say, and Jiwoong nuzzles his face into Taerae’s palm.
Suddenly, Hanbin is seeing his friends in a new light. He feels scandalised, slightly. Okay, so a sex club. What exactly is a sex club? Hanbin figured there’d be sex going on, but he hadn’t really considered beyond that. He’s a virgin, after all, so sex is more of a concept to him than a reality.
Before he gets the chance to consider it further, all five of them are entering the club, greeted by a very official front desk where they’re required to give their names and hand in their phones. The woman at the front desk is wearing some kind of harness. No-one in his group has dressed up beyond some jeans and t-shirts. Oh, Taerae is clipping a leash to Jiwoong’s collar now and leading him down the hall. Maybe Hanbin can admit he’s a bit scared.
“Um, Sung Hanbin,” he offers, sliding his phone across the desk with a trembling hand.
“First time?” the woman asks.
“Why does everyone keep saying that,” Hanbin bemoans, mostly to himself.
The woman turns to Matthew, who is patiently waiting by Hanbin’s side. “They’re gonna eat him alive in there. He’s got sub practically written all over him.”
“What?” Matthew sounds genuinely shocked. “No way. Hyung’s, like… No. He wouldn’t be like that.”
She doesn’t appear convinced. Matthew leads Hanbin away with a hand at the base of his spine before Hanbin can ask what on earth she’s talking about. “Don’t think about it,” Matthew says, but Hanbin is thinking about it. Sub? This establishment keeps getting weirder. Hanbin wants to get himself a mocktail. Since, well, the bar here doesn’t sell alcoholic drinks, apparently.
When a bouncer opens the door for them and they actually enter the club, Hanbin freezes.
There’s a lot going on. On a stage, someone is being whipped while completely naked, but their cock is rock hard and they look really happy about it. On another stage, a man is being speared between two cocks, and he has this strange metal contraption holding him open. Matthew had already specified to him that this was a gay sex club, but it’s still a bit daunting to see so much cock at once.
People wander around in various states of undress, from completely naked to fully clothed. There’s leather and chains everywhere. Hanbin wants to avert his eyes, but there’s nowhere else to look. He would have to walk around with his eyes closed.
It must be visible on his face because Matthew winces. “It’s a lot. I told you we could go somewhere else.”
“No,” Hanbin says stubbornly, staring straight ahead and pretending there is not a man wearing a metal cock cage standing directly in his line of sight. “I agreed to this. I can do this. I need to be exposed to this stuff. It’s time.”
“Whatever you say, hyung,” Matthew replies, unconvinced. “C’mon, there’s a free booth over here. You guys slide in and I’ll get us some fancy mocktails.”
Gyuvin scoffs as they settle down, completely relaxed in the environment. “Matthew always gets the drinks. He comes here for the bartender. Have a look.”
Nodding in the direction of the non-alcoholic bar, Hanbin follows Gyuvin’s gaze to where Matthew has already approached a specific tall bartender, reaching out to tap him on the shoulder. The bartender turns around, and Hanbin chokes a bit when he looks at him. He’s wearing some kind of metal muzzle around his jaw, the kind designed for a dog, as well as black ears on his head and a collar around his neck, much like the one Jiwoong is wearing. The man smiles with his eyes when he sees Matthew standing there, bending down to let Matthew pat him on the head and scratch him behind his (fake) ears.
“He’s younger than Matthew. Gunwook, or something,” Taerae offers. “I think Matthew calls him puppy. Somehow they still haven’t fucked.”
“Right,” Hanbin says, for a lack of anything else. His head feels a bit like it’s full of putty. “Do you call, um, Jiwoong-hyung…that, as well?”
“Sometimes,” Taerae says with a smile. He tugs on Jiwoong’s leash and Jiwoong happily falls forward. “Hyung doesn’t talk while we’re in here, by the way. He might bark, though. Hope that doesn’t weird you out too much.”
“Are you guys gonna get up on one of those stages,” Hanbin blurts, ears turning red. “I think I can handle anything else but that.”
Taerae laughs, turning to hide his face in Jiwoong’s neck. “Ah, no, no. I like showing hyung off in here, but not too much. Just showing everyone that he’s mine, like this.” He holds up the leash, then gestures to the collar. Hanbin lets out a sigh of relief, feeling like he can sink more comfortably into the booth.
Matthew comes back with a tray of their drinks, cheeks flushed. “Gunwookie will come back for the tray,” he says shyly, turning his head towards the bar as if already waiting for him. Hanbin feels a bit left out that Matthew has never told him about his little crush before, but then again, if he told Hanbin, he would have to explain… All of this. Hanbin can understand why he’s avoided the topic. Matthew doesn’t like to lie. If he can’t tell the entire truth, he won’t say anything at all.
“There’s my baby!” Gyuvin yelps suddenly, climbing over both Matthew and Hanbin to flounder out of their booth. “Gotta go! Taking my drink! Tonight I’ll hit! Trust!”
“You said that last time,” Taerae teases, but Gyuvin is already gone, speed walking across the club with a clear destination in mind. “Once Gyuvin spots Ricky, it’s over. We lose him for the rest of the night,” Taerae explains, watching his retreating back weave through small groups of people lingering about. Hanbin watches, too, curious about what Ricky looks like, for Gyuvin to be this enamoured by him.
“Ricky usually hangs out with a few other super popular regulars,” Matthew elaborates, taking a sip of his mocktail. “They’re always immaculately dressed and known to be super picky about their partners. Gyuvin is the only one even allowed, like, in their vicinity at the moment, and that’s because of Ricky. They pay for a VIP booth, you can see it upstairs through the open ceiling. Which booth it is can change, though, so Gyuvin is always scouring for it.”
Hanbin glances up. Gyuvin is walking past some other VIP booths, until he apparently finds his destination, lingering by the rope restricting his access and waving goofily towards the men inside. Hanbin’s gaze drifts to the occupants of the booth. He spots Ricky fairly quickly, as he’s the one currently smirking at Gyuvin like he’s about to eat him alive, and Hanbin can see the appeal. Slim face, thin eyes, jawline that could cut steel—he’s the kind of beauty that belongs in a magazine. There are two others facing away from Hanbin that he can’t see, but when Hanbin’s eyes fall upon the man sitting beside Ricky, everyone else fades away.
Dressed in a white button down, the man is frowning, looking at Gyuvin like he’s a bit of a nuisance, in a way that’s slightly snobby and delightfully cruel. Hanbin doesn’t understand why, but it’s sexy. He thinks of those eyes, that expression, being turned towards him, and his stomach ties itself into knots. Those are the eyes of a man who knows he’s powerful and can prove it, too. Could control someone with a single word. His hair is tousled, face done up with dark eyeshadow and piercing eyeliner. His body is slim, shoulders delicate and small. Hanbin’s hands feel clammy just looking at him. He’s wearing simple silver jewellery, but he looks expensive. This is the kind of man Hanbin thinks he would do anything for.
“Who’s that?” he manages, voice slightly hoarse. “Um. Next to Ricky. Who’s that?”
“Honey, no,” Taerae says at the same time Matthew says, “Don’t even think about it, hyung. Just ignore him.”
“What?” Hanbin is affronted, immediately pouting. “He can’t be that far out of my league. Matthew, you said my body was too good for me to be so perpetually single.”
“It’s not about you, ” Taerae clarifies, rolling his eyes. “That’s Zhang Hao. ” The way Taerae says his name, emphasised, each letter curled perfectly around his tongue, gives the impression it holds a lot of weight. “Zhang Hao doesn’t do things the normal way. He doesn’t see people twice. He doesn’t date. He plays, sometimes. If he thinks you’re good enough. He’ll degrade you on the stage and step on your cock and won’t let you come then go back to his VIP booth without breaking a sweat.”
For some reason, that excites Hanbin. Not the not-dating part, because that makes Hanbin a bit sad. He’s a romantic at heart, after all. No, the part about the cock stepping and being ignored and talked down to. It’s unpleasant as a thought, in theory, but then Hanbin imagines it more thoroughly—imagines Zhang Hao with that face and that expression looking down on him with a foot on his cock pressing down and he’s really aroused, suddenly.
“He doesn’t, like,” Hanbin stutters, twiddling his fingers beneath the table, “fuck? Fuck any of the guys here?” The word feels crude in Hanbin’s mouth.
Matthew laughs. “Zhang Hao doesn’t top. Ever. He’s an exclusive bottom. I guess you could say what he’s doing is fucking other guys. Fucking them over, more like. Once Zhang Hao is done with them, they’re basically ruined forever. They say no sex is ever as good. Poor dudes. Get a taste of paradise only to have it ripped out of their hands.”
“Alright then.” Hanbin stands up. “I’m gonna go join Gyuvin and talk to Zhang Hao. See you guys later.”
Matthew, Taerae, and even Jiwoong all scream and scramble in protest at the same time. “You can’t!” Jiwoong says, to which Taerae growls, “Bad dog!” and tugs hard on his leash. Jiwoong whimpers a bit, but his eyes are pleading with Hanbin to rethink his decision.
“Seriously,” Matthew begs, tugging on Hanbin’s sleeve. “You’ve never even had sex, hyung. You’re going to get really embarrassed in front of Zhang Hao. Please, we’re protecting you from humiliation here. Public humiliation.”
“Zhang Hao is not going to turn you down nicely,” Taerae promises. “He’s mean about it. He might insult you. Involve other people. He might even start a public scene like asking you to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness and then Gyuvin will have to step in and explain you don’t even know what a safeword is. People here, they think you already know the drill.”
It sounds intimidating and more than a little scary. However, Hanbin’s already bit the bullet by coming in here. He’s not sure how much worse it could get. He shrugs. “Okay, then I’ll never come back. So what? I want to shoot my shot with Zhang Hao.”
“Hanbin, do you know what a safeword is?” Taerae asks seriously.
“No,” Hanbin replies, full of confidence.
“You can’t do this!” Jiwoong exclaims.
“Good puppies don’t speak!” Taerae hisses.
“Hyung,” Matthew pleads, lowering his voice, “please. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I came here to get out of my comfort zone,” Hanbin whispers back, removing Matthew’s hand from his sleeve. “This is me getting out of my comfort zone.” With that, he picks up his fruity little cocktail and begins making his way towards the stairs.
Yes, he’s fucking nervous. This is like, beyond out of his comfort zone. Hanbin figures he’ll never learn if he doesn’t try, though, and even if Zhang Hao does reject him horribly, at least he’ll have experienced it. It should make expressing interest in other people a lot easier, because then at least he’ll know it could always be worse.
Gyuvin is still lingering outside the VIP rope when Hanbin approaches. Hanbin guesses that Ricky doesn’t give him the privilege of being allowed entry. “Hey, Gyuvin,” Hanbin greets, as casually as he can manage. “Thought I might join you and meet your friends here.”
“We’re not friends,” Ricky says.
“I dunno, you’ve talked to him for hours, every week, for like, months,” a man across from them says, dressed in nothing but this extremely strange leather harness and a pair of leather pants. “I’m Seowon. Beside me is Kuan Jui. That’s Ricky. And Zhang Hao.”
Hanbin eyes Seowon and Kuan Jui briefly to be polite. They’re both presented in stark difference to the men across from them at the booth, Seowon in a harness and Kuan Jui in dainty chains. Ricky and Zhang Hao are both in crisp white button-downs and black slacks. The contrast is confusing to Hanbin. There are a lot of people dressed similarly to all four of them, but Hanbin doesn’t understand the distinction or reasoning.
“Hanbin,” he introduces himself, sliding next to Gyuvin. “Gyuvin is a university friend of mine.” He glances sidelong at Gyuvin, only to see Gyuvin just as nervous as the other guys downstairs. He hasn’t said a word. He’s just staring at Ricky, as if waiting for Ricky’s reaction, terrified that Hanbin’s interruption will lose him gold stars on his good boy of the week chart.
“Details, details,” Seowon dismisses, waving a hand. “What’s your deal? Top? Bottom? Dom? Sub?”
Hanbin still doesn’t know what sub means, and now he also doesn’t know what that other word means. He’s not looking at Seowon, though. He’s looking at Zhang Hao, and Zhang Hao is looking at him. Assessing. There’s no emotion on his face to give way to how he might feel about Hanbin being here.
Instead of revealing that he has no fucking idea what he’s talking about, Hanbin tries to be smooth. “My deal is whatever his deal is.” He nods at Zhang Hao, one hand very casually and coolly slipped into one of his pockets. He’s definitely the perfect picture of nonchalance.
If Zhang Hao is surprised by this, he doesn’t show it. Kuan Jui laughs. “His deal?” he repeats, pointing to Zhang Hao.
Hanbin doesn’t avert his eyes. “Sure. I like whatever Zhang Hao likes.”
“Oh my god,” Gyuvin whispers. “I’m so sorry,” he says, louder, this time directed at Zhang Hao. “He’s new here.”
Zhang Hao’s face finally cracks. The corner of his mouth turns up. Hanbin’s heart begins to race at double speed. Gyuvin wasn’t supposed to blow his cover, damn it! He purses his lips and stomps on Gyuvin’s foot, but Gyuvin barely reacts. It’s like he’s still waiting to see what Zhang Hao will do.
“Hmm, I’m not offended,” Zhang Hao muses, tilting his head and giving Hanbin a once over. “Whatever I like, you say?” he considers next, tapping a finger to his lips. “What if I’d like you to strip naked for me, right here? Leave your clothes in a little pile on the table and stand there like a good boy showing yourself off. That would be amenable to you, right?”
“Zhang Hao,” Gyuvin interrupts, seemingly in a panic, “he doesn’t get it, he’s never done this before, he doesn’t even know—”
“Gyuvin,” Ricky says firmly, and Gyuvin shuts his mouth.
Hanbin’s starting to understand what everyone’s been talking about when it comes to Zhang Hao.
He finds he doesn’t mind.
“Oh,” Zhang Hao says, leaning back. “Doesn’t know? What’s a sub, Hanbin-ah?”
Hanbin hesitates. “Do you like them?”
“Hmm?” Zhang Hao makes a questioning noise.
“Subs. Do you like them?”
For some reason, everyone at the table laughs a bit to themselves, including Zhang Hao. “Oh, yes. I love them.”
“Okay, then I’m whatever that is,” Hanbin reasons, nodding decisively. “If you like subs then I can be one. The lady at the front said I had ‘sub written all over me,’ so. I’ll be good at it, I think. Do you still want me to take my clothes off?”
Zhang Hao laughs and it’s the most beautiful sound Hanbin has ever heard. It’s not a polite laugh, or a cruel one, or restrained, or any kind of performance. It’s a real, surprised, boisterous laugh. His cool demeanor breaks and Hanbin can see a glimpse of the man behind the mask, crescent moon eyes creased in the corners and cheeks so cute all scrunched up on his face. Hanbin has to swallow all the excess saliva pooling in his mouth, feeling like a horse dying of thirst finally led to water.
“Oh, aren’t you special,” Zhang Hao manages, dabbing at the corner of his eyes with a serviette once he’s calmed down. “Come here, sweetness. Come sit by me, let’s get to know each other.”
“Seriously?” Gyuvin blurts, as Seowon grins and says, “How exciting.”
“Quiet,” Ricky orders Gyuvin.
“Don’t be too hard on him, Zhang Hao-ssi,” Kuan Jui teases.
Hanbin dutifully lifts the rope and waits for Ricky to stand up and make room for him before he slides in to join Zhang Hao. “Over here, darling,” Zhang Hao says, nodding towards his opposite side. This means Hanbin has to climb over his lap to sit in the middle, between Seowon and Zhang Hao.
“Excuse me, Zhang Hao-ssi,” Hanbin mutters, deciding to face him front-on as he steps over the top of him to find his spot. He knows his own breaths are heavy, influenced by their proximity. Zhang Hao doesn’t move, staring up at him with such intense eyes, watching his every move. Their legs are touching everywhere. Hanbin trips into place, blushing bright red, hoping Zhang Hao finds it more endearing than stupid.
Gyuvin is still outside the VIP booth, behind the rope. Hanbin feels kind of bad, but Gyuvin is back to staring at Ricky all dotingly so maybe this is part of their ‘thing’ and he should stay out of it. “Thank you, Zhang Hao-ssi,” Hanbin says softly, suddenly afraid to meet his eyes. He turns towards him, but keeps his gaze somewhere around his collarbones, which feels safe.
Zhang Hao reaches out and grabs him under the chin, lifting his face so they’re looking eye to eye. “Shy now, sweet thing? You can call me hyung.”
“How do you know you’re older than me?” Hanbin says, blinking innocently at Zhang Hao, as if he isn’t being held by his chin and forced to stay there.
“Hmm, gege would be better,” Zhang Hao continues, tilting his head, considering Hanbin up close. “I like it when my subs call me gege.”
“I’m 2001,” Hanbin offers.
“2000. Call me gege,” Zhang Hao orders.
“Gege,” Hanbin replies, the honorific strange and foreign on his tongue.
Zhang Hao nods. “We’ll work on your pronunciation.” He lets go of Hanbin’s chin, tapping it once before dropping his hand. “Don’t look away. Stay there.” Hanbin doesn’t move. “Good boy. What brings you here tonight, Hanbin-ah?”
“I graduated today,” Hanbin blurts. Now that he’s been given permission to look at Zhang Hao, he can’t look away. He stares like he’s soaking in every inch of his beauty by proximity alone. His tone, his body language, the rhythm of his words—all of it is intoxicating. Hanbin doesn’t understand why the way Zhang Hao is speaking to him is making his stomach flutter and thighs clench, but he can’t get enough of it. He wants to soak in Zhang Hao’s presence forever. Is this what everyone meant by Zhang Hao ruining sex for other men? Is he coated in some kind of pheromone-releasing aphrodisiac? Hanbin thinks he’s addicted to it already. They aren’t even having sex and Hanbin feels arousal soaking into his every pore. He’s not hard, but the arousal is different. It’s like it’s in his blood.
Zhang Hao’s lips curl up at one of the corners. “Did you, now? What a good boy.” Hanbin blushes, averting his eyes slightly. Zhang Hao reaches out to tap him on the knee. “Eyes on me.” Hanbin looks back. “That’s it. What did you study, sweetheart?”
“Primary education,” Hanbin admits. “I, um, haven’t gone clubbing or drinking or anything before because I was studying…” He trails off, but Zhang Hao doesn’t interrupt, so he keeps going. “Tonight, since I graduated today, I thought I would join my friends when they said they were going out…”
“And they chose here?” Zhang Hao scoffs, glancing towards Gyuvin, eyes twinkling with vaguely disguised judgement.
“They were already coming here,” Hanbin explains, pulling Zhang Hao’s attention back to him. “I didn’t know anything about it. They tried to talk me out of it, but I was stubborn.”
“Stubborn,” Zhang Hao repeats. He rolls the word around in his mouth. “Is it exciting? Different from the kind of vanilla sex you usually have?”
“I—I—” Hanbin stutters, fingers fiddling together in front of him, pausing to lick his lips. It’s a bit embarrassing to admit to a gorgeous stranger that you’re a virgin. “Um. I don’t know what vanilla means. Sorry. I haven’t ever had sex. Sorry. Really sorry.” Hanbin has to glance down, cheeks so red he knows the blush has spread right from his ears to his neck. Zhang Hao has so many options—why would he choose an awkward stuttering virgin? Matthew was right. Hanbin’s burst of confidence is starting to fade, and he’s beginning to realise the situation he’s put himself in. He’s out of his depth, and now is the part where he starts to drown.
“I see,” Zhang Hao says. His voice is throaty, different from before. There’s a strange deepness to it that Hanbin can’t describe. Hanbin looks up, and the expression on Zhang Hao’s face makes his breath catch. His eyes are dark, almost predatory. He’s staring Hanbin down like he’s particularly enticing prey. Hanbin feels caught, drawn in by the hunger in Zhang Hao’s gaze. Like a mouse infected with toxoplasmosis, running towards the cat without fear.
“You see,” Hanbin echoes, waiting to see if the cat will bite. If the cat will take him into its mouth and carry him home.
Zhang Hao leans in. “Do you want to play with me?” he asks, voice low and sultry. “You won’t regret it.”
God, how Hanbin wants. However, he hesitates. “I might not make a good one-time playmate,” he admits, hoping this doesn’t ruin his chance. “I might want to play again, and again, and again, and not let you play with anyone else. I might want to see you the next day, and the day after, even when we’re not playing. I’ve heard from a few people that’s not your style.”
Hanbin can see Zhang Hao considering it, biting his lip, brow furrowed in concentration. “I can’t promise you anything,” he says frankly. “We might not be compatible. It’s true; I don’t really do things that way. It’s been more out of a lack of interest than anything else. You, however.” Zhang Hao leans back to look Hanbin up and down all over again, taking in every detail. “You interest me, Hanbin-ah. Want to try?”
It’s what Hanbin came up here for, after all. “Yes,” he mumbles, heart fluttering madly. “I’d like to try.”
“Ah, you’re so stiff,” Zhang Hao laughs, reaching out to squish Hanbin’s cheeks together with one hand, causing his lips to pucker. “So nervous. Why don’t you give me a kiss to relax, hmm?”
“Here?” Hanbin falters, eyes skittering around them, remembering the sheer amount of people in their vicinity. He’s surprised to see so many people glancing away, as if he’s been watched by everyone this entire time; the new toy garnering Zhang Hao’s interest. He expects it to make him feel a bit dirty, but it doesn’t. Hanbin is excited by the idea—of knowing all these people want Zhang Hao, but he’s the one sitting here, so easily falling into his lap.
Zhang Hao lets go, leaning away slightly. “We can kiss when we get to the room. We don’t have to here.” He sounds like he means it, too. He looks like he’s about to turn to Ricky, to make way for them to leave, but Hanbin grabs his wrist.
“Wait!” he squeaks, biting his lip. “Here. Can we… Here?”
Zhang Hao raises an eyebrow, settling back in next to Hanbin in the booth, inching ever-so-slightly closer. “Why’s that, Hanbin-ah?” he whispers, placing one hand on Hanbin’s thigh, the other against his neck. “Do you actually want to be seen? Do you like being shown off?”
“I don’t know,” Hanbin admits honestly, and he knows Zhang Hao must feel his pulse rabbiting under his touch. “I just know I want to kiss you here. When everyone’s… Watching.” It’s embarrassing to confess, but Zhang Hao’s dangerous grin in response makes it worth it.
“God,” Zhang Hao groans, leaning in, breath suddenly hot against Hanbin’s face. “The way you don’t know what that means… Ever heard of exhibitionism?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Fucking hell,” Zhang Hao says, then presses their lips together.
Hanbin’s kissed people before. It’s never been particularly intimate. A few closed-mouthed kisses with girls before he knew he was gay, a couple kisses with guys on first dates that Hanbin could never go through with. It’s never been exciting. Hanbin has never felt anything during them.
Zhang Hao kisses differently.
He holds Hanbin’s head in place, then takes ownership of his mouth, opening him up immediately to slip his tongue inside. Hanbin would think they’re going too fast, but he can’t stop to think, can’t process anything except the feeling of Zhang Hao’s teeth clashing against his and his own lips being nipped on. Zhang Hao licks the roof of his mouth and sucks on his tongue. Hanbin feels like he’s having the soul sucked out of him. Zhang Hao is leaning over him, too, so Hanbin is craning his neck slightly, and the power behind Zhang Hao’s grip means he keeps crumbling further and further back.
Zhang Hao breaks away, presses a kiss to his jaw, then goes back to his mouth for more. Hanbin might be drowning and it’s the best feeling in the world. Someone whistles. Hanbin realises after a moment that he’s clinging to Zhang Hao’s waist for leverage, his white-knuckled grip the only thing holding him to the surface. Zhang Hao detaches, only to start licking and nipping down his neck, and Hanbin moans so loudly he throws a hand over his mouth, wide eyes meeting Gyuvin’s over the VIP rope. Gyuvin gives him a thumbs up, but his mouth is slack-jawed open, like he can’t believe this is actually happening to Hanbin. Hanbin moans again when Zhang Hao bites, sucking a hickey into his throat. He shifts his eyes towards Ricky, who appears to be pouting now that Gyuvin is no longer paying attention to him. When his eyes focus beyond that and see everyone else in the vicinity staring at him practically getting his neck mauled he feels his cock throb in his jeans and he almost sobs.
“Feel good, honey?” Zhang Hao whispers, blinking softly against Hanbin’s cheek.
“T-They’re all watch—watching me,” Hanbin stutters, awkwardly covering his crotch with his hands. Zhang Hao looks down and smirks.
“Do you like it?” he asks, but it’s a stupid question. Looking at Hanbin like this, anyone could tell he likes it.
“Yeah, but—I don’t want to go on stage d-down there,” Hanbin stammers. Zhang Hao giggles.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I don’t want to either.” Hanbin feels himself relax just that little bit more. “There are rooms here, or we can go back to mine. Your choice.”
Hanbin thinks about the state of his cock and having to wait the entire journey back to Zhang Hao’s place. If this is a sex club and there are rooms specifically designed to have sex in, why shouldn’t Hanbin utilise them? “Here,” he says decisively. He feels kind of slutty, in the best way. Like he’s doing something the Hanbin of twelve hours ago would never do, and it’s kind of super dirty but also super fun. He might crash out about this tomorrow, or maybe he won’t. Maybe tonight the experience will be so life changing that he’ll never be the same again.
Hanbin decides not to think about it too much. He just wants Zhang Hao. The connection he felt when he first saw him hasn’t gone away. Hanbin feels drawn to him, like a string tying them together. If love at first sight exists then this is what Hanbin surely feels.
Zhang Hao pushes Ricky out of the booth, ignoring his yelp of annoyance. He drags Hanbin by the hand, weaving him through the crowd, up another flight of stairs. Hanbin knows his palms are sweaty. The third floor is actually blocked off by the ceiling, so Hanbin doesn’t know what it looks like until they reach the landing. There’s another front desk, like a hotel lobby, and a hallway in either direction. “Been a while,” the guy manning the desk says, obviously talking to Zhang Hao, but he’s looking Hanbin up and down.
“Fully enclosed, locked room. No window,” Zhang Hao says, ignoring his comment.
The man shrugs. “Room six is free.”
Zhang Hao starts leading him away. “Window?” Hanbin asks.
“So people can’t look inside from the door,” Zhang Hao explains. “Some of the doors also don’t lock, so anyone can come in and join.” Hanbin starts to understand as they walk down one of the wide hallways. There’s rooms with no doors, rooms with windows, some with the doors wide open and group sex happening inside. Some men are peeping through windows, jerking off by watching. Zhang Hao pulls him into a room and locks the door from the inside. Thankfully, it appears to be soundproof, because Hanbin can’t hear the threesome happening next door.
The room isn’t overly large. It’s minimalistic, walls red and bed all black, with ropes and chains and other attachments that Hanbin can’t make sense of. On one of the walls, a group of… Things are hanging. All across the wall, from one side to the other, are various items Hanbin is assuming are meant to be used during sex.
Zhang Hao sits down on the bed and holds up a single finger. “Vanilla sex means normal sex. The kind of sex you know about. Making love, that sort of thing. I like it too, sometimes. I also like other kinds of sex. This is BDSM.”
“BDSM,” Hanbin repeats, feeling the acronym around in his mouth.
Zhang Hao holds up three fingers and points to each one as he begins explaining the acronym. “Bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, sadism and masochism.” He pauses to let Hanbin take that in, then points to himself. “Dominant.” He points to Hanbin. “Submissive.”
Hanbin thinks about it, looks at the wall, looks at the bed, and Zhang Hao on the bed. He thinks really, really hard. Zhang Hao waits. “A dominant person is powerful,” Hanbin says, thinking aloud. “That’s what I thought when I first saw you. A submissive person will listen to the authority of a dominant person.”
“In a non-sexual context, sure.”
Hanbin frowns. “What’s the difference?”
Zhang Hao sighs. “You can be a dominant person in your life. A leader, a person who always speaks up in class, well-organised and in control. When it comes to sex, you might want someone to lead you. To take control of you. To dominate you, for once. Does that feel familiar?”
Hanbin chokes a bit on his spit, stuttering in a breath, because he relates to that so much it feels uncanny. He’s always been the one in charge. He’s been terrified of having sex, because he’s terrified of the expectation that he has to be in charge then, too. He doesn’t want to be. Deep down, Hanbin wants to be taken care of.
Zhang Hao doesn’t ask if he’s right. “Sadomasochism stuff we don’t have to talk about today. You saw the guy getting whipped, yeah? A masochist is someone who finds pleasure in pain and a sadist is someone who finds pleasure in delivering pain. Generally, you have to be born a masochist. You either like pain or you don’t.” Hanbin thinks about his tattoos, and the mind-numbing pleasure he feels from the needles in his skin. That same sort of almost aroused state, like it’s in his blood. He keeps this to himself. “Bondage—ropes, chains. Discipline—doing what you’re told. Liking to be told. There’s all sorts of different stuff. Rules. Like how Gyuvin isn’t allowed inside the booth.
“Tonight is about you and me though.” Zhang Hao stands up, gesturing towards the wall of strange BDSM toys. “Why don’t you pick a few things you like for us to play with? Let’s find out how compatible we are.”
“Won’t you tell me what you like?” Hanbin asks, fiddling with his hands as he approaches the wall, eyeing each object one by one.
Zhang Hao laughs. “I don’t want to influence your decision. I want to know what you’ll pick organically.” He pauses to soften his tone. “I like most things, Hanbin-ah. If you pick something I don’t like, I’ll tell you.”
Feeling reassured, Hanbin goes back to gazing at the wall. It’s a lot. There’s all sorts of paddles and whips, but Hanbin really doesn’t feel like going down that road for his first time having sex. There’s rope, chains, handcuffs… Hanbin blushes as he stares at the handcuffs. There’s a couple of pairs that have really long chains on them, which would allow for quite a bit of movement, but he would still be restrained. When it comes to giving up control, Hanbin likes the idea of Zhang Hao having to move him around, or putting him in place, or deciding if he’s allowed to change his position. It’s like putting the trust in Zhang Hao to know what’s best for him; what will make him feel good. He shouldn’t trust Zhang Hao but he does. Hanbin’s probably a little crazy, but his gut instinct is telling him that Zhang Hao will take care of him.
He takes two pairs of long handcuffs off the wall.
Zhang Hao’s eyes twinkle, pleased. “Two?” he asks, tilting his head.
Hanbin licks his lips and hands them over to Zhang Hao without being asked to. “One for my wrists and one for my ankles,” he explains, feeling shy. “I, um—I thought it would be, um, more secure…”
“Do you like the idea of being restrained?” Zhang Hao asks.
Hanbin turns his head towards the bed, assessing the rope and the chains tied to the corners and headboard. He thinks about himself lying there, completely at Zhang Hao’s mercy, unable to touch or roll away. “Yeah,” he says hoarsely, knowing the bulge of his cock must be visible in his jeans. “I think I do. I want to try it with you.”
“What a sweet boy you are,” Zhang Hao whispers, somewhat awed. It makes Hanbin’s chest kick. “Do you want to go lie down and we’ll get started?”
Panicking, Hanbin shakes his head. “No, wait.” Inspired, he grabs a silk blindfold, holding it up for Zhang Hao to take. “I always find it really hot when idols wear these for performances,” he admits, lowering his eyes. “I want to try it on myself.”
There it is again—another flicker of satisfaction behind Zhang Hao’s eyes before it’s gone in a moment. Hanbin’s chest fills with pride, for some reason, at the idea of his choices pleasing Zhang Hao in this way. “Interesting,” Zhang Hao muses, accepting the blindfold from Hanbin’s shaking hands. “Anything else catch your eye?”
Hanbin considers the wall, but he doesn’t think he wants to add anything else. This already feels like a lot. He shakes his head. Zhang Hao smiles. “Come sit down, baby. We’ll have fun, okay?”
Zhang Hao’s palm in his is warm as he’s guided to the large black bed in the middle of the room, gently manhandled into a sitting position. Zhang Hao takes it upon himself to crawl into his lap, straddling him on either side of his thighs, tossing the handcuffs and blindfold beside them. “We’ll ease into it,” Zhang Hao promises. Hanbin just nods, enamoured by everything about Zhang Hao. He really doesn’t care what Zhang Hao does to him. Hanbin thinks he would like anything, if Zhang Hao was the one putting his hands on him. “If you want to stop, just tell me. Are you nervous?”
Hanbin gulps, not knowing where to rest his hands. “It’s my first time. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Of course I’m nervous.”
Zhang Hao preens. “Hmm, so sweet. Thank you. I’m talking about the kinky aspects of it, honey.”
“Kinky?” Hanbin asks.
Zhang Hao sighs, but not in a bothered way. He sinks into Hanbin’s lap and tilts his head at him, considering. “Ah, you’re so precious. Gorgeous boy. I think this is why it’s never worked out with anyone else. You’re exactly what I needed, baby.” Hanbin doesn’t know what he means and doesn’t care. He waits patiently, lips slightly parted, for Zhang Hao to initiate something.
Apparently Zhang Hao gets the message, because he leans in for their second kiss. It’s somehow hungrier than their first—Zhang Hao cradles Hanbin’s neck in both his hands and holds him in place as he licks into his mouth, sloppy and wet. Hanbin grips Zhang Hao’s hips, whimpering, breathing heavily through his nose and becoming surrounded by the scent of Zhang Hao’s perfume. It’s musky; deep. Hanbin suffocates in it. He’s still half-hard and has been half the night, but Zhang Hao doesn’t rock their hips together or feed the arousal. He puts all of his weight down onto Hanbin’s thighs, as if telling him, Don’t move. Hanbin knows he’s strong enough to lift his hips and seek friction, but he can feel it in the lines and strength of Zhang Hao’s body that it’s telling him to be still.
Hanbin listens. He’s a good boy, after all.
Zhang Hao hums, pleased. Every time Hanbin hears it, he feels a rush of blood flowing to his cock. “Call me gege,” Zhang Hao whispers, hushed against the frantic connection of their lips. “Be a good boy, Hanbin-ah, call me gege,”
“Gege,” Hanbin says, for the second time, and it feels good. Zhang Hao wants him to be a good boy. Hanbin will be so, so good. “I’ll be your good boy, gege.” Zhang Hao groans and tucks his face into Hanbin’s throat, clutching the back of his head with desperate fingers.
“God,” Zhang Hao moans, slipping his opposite hand beneath the bottom of Hanbin’s t-shirt, lightly tapping at his skin. “C’mere.” He manoeuvres them backwards onto the bed, pushing Hanbin until he’s lying down flat, head against the pillows. “Can I take your clothes off?”
“I would’ve taken them off for you in the booth,” Hanbin says, “really. Gege, I’ll do anything. I’ll do anything you tell me to, please.”
Zhang Hao’s eyes go dark, still perched in Hanbin’s lap, both hands pulling Hanbin’s t-shirt up from the bottom and running his hands up Hanbin’s abdomen from beneath the fabric. “Don’t say that,” he commands firmly, shirt pulled up to Hanbin’s armpits. He licks from Hanbin’s happy trail up to his sternum and Hanbin shivers. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
“Then show me,” Hanbin provokes, even though he’s out of his depth. Knew he was out of his depth when Zhang Hao spoke to him for the first time, back at the VIP table. The danger of it, the fear, makes Hanbin’s stomach feel hot. Whatever emotion Zhang Hao is bringing out in him, he wants more of it.
Zhang Hao considers Hanbin from his vantage point laying on his stomach. Then he gets up, slowly beginning to unbutton his pristine white dress shirt. “Undress yourself,” he orders, nodding down towards Hanbin’s vulnerable figure. Hanbin hastens to comply, ridding himself of his clothing, barely even hesitating when he reaches his underwear. Zhang Hao has awakened something in him that he isn’t able to turn off again. Beneath Zhang Hao’s searching gaze, Hanbin feels like he can do anything.
When Hanbin reaches out to help unbutton Zhang Hao’s shirt the rest of the way, Zhang Hao grabs his hands, stopping him. “You don’t touch,” he explains, pressing Hanbin’s hands back beside his body. He doesn’t even spare Hanbin’s naked bottom half a second glance, maintaining eye contact the entire time. “You watch me.”
Hanbin nods, dazed. Zhang Hao unbuttons his own shirt the rest of the way until it’s hanging off his shoulders, falling down to his elbows. He leaves it on. When he unzips his slacks, Hanbin can’t help the way his eyes track to the bulge that spills out of them. Why is Zhang Hao moving so slow? Hanbin is hyperware of his own cock, hard and leaking against his stomach, but Zhang Hao is still mostly dressed and ignoring it. Hanbin squirms, a whimpering sound making its way from the back of his throat. Zhang Hao grins.
“What is it, pretty? Impatient?” Hanbin nods, always earnest, unable not to be. “Am I not paying enough attention to you?”
This time Hanbin hesitates before slightly shaking his head. “It’s not that…” he trails off, averting his eyes, because he doesn’t want to complain or seem ungrateful. Zhang Hao sees right through him.
“Am I ignoring this?” Zhang Hao wraps a fist around Hanbin’s cock, squeezing once. Hanbin jumps, not expecting the stimulation, and whines as his hips jerk into the touch. “You’re so eager, aren’t you? Can’t you wait a little longer? I want to have fun with you, Hanbin-ah.” He releases Hanbin’s cock, but doesn’t continue removing his clothes. He simply watches Hanbin’s face, waiting for an answer.
“Yes, gege,” Hanbin replies obediently, face red, feeling somewhat ashamed, hot in the deepest part of his gut, but not in a bad way like he expects. The shame is strangely arousing, building within him like a bubble close to bursting. He doesn’t understand it and he doesn’t care.
“I don’t know,” Zhang Hao ponders, “I think you might be tempted to touch yourself. Look how red and desperate your cock is. You might not be able to help yourself.”
Hanbin shakes his head rapidly, staring up at Zhang Hao with wide, sincere eyes. “I won’t! I really won’t!”
Zhang Hao hums. “You think you can be a good boy for me?”
Frantic, wanting to prove himself further, Hanbin scrambles for the handcuffs Zhang Hao threw onto the bed earlier, thrusting them in Zhang Hao’s face. “Here! We have these, remember? I-If you handcuff me, I won’t be able to touch, right?”
A small smile finds its way to Zhang Hao’s face. He reaches out, first to pat Hanbin on the head, then to gently take the handcuffs from Hanbin’s hands. “Clever boy,” Zhang Hao says, unclasping the cuffs one by one. “Do you want to try them?”
Hanbin nods. “Yes please,” he replies politely, offering his wrists to Zhang Hao like a surrender, willingly placing himself under arrest. Zhang Hao huffs out a laugh and guides Hanbin’s hands further down.
“You’ll still be able to touch if you’re cuffed here, won’t you?” he explains, before pressing Hanbin’s wrists next to his thighs on the mattress, right beneath his hipline. “I think here is better.” Zhang Hao lifts Hanbin’s hips slightly to draw the cuffs behind Hanbin’s body so that he ends up with the back of his thighs resting on the chain. When Zhang Hao places Hanbin’s wrists into the cuffs, if he were to secure them, the only way Hanbin would be able to bring his hands back in front of him would be to draw his feet up and through the loop of his arms by bending his knees.
Zhang Hao doesn’t secure them, though, not yet. He allows Hanbin to lay there, connecting with the feeling of being restrained. He trails curious fingers up and down Hanbin’s abdomen, the lightest of touches, almost making Hanbin ticklish. Zhang Hao’s hand travels further down, caressing Hanbin’s naked thighs, hips, and knees, but never his cock. He looks at it, though. He looks at it, looks at Hanbin’s wrists, and looks into Hanbin’s eyes.
“You can lock them,” Hanbin decides, and he finds he isn’t nervous about it. “I trust you.”
The click of the handcuffs snapping into place sends a shiver down Hanbin’s spine. The metal is cool and solid against his wrists, the sensation unfamiliar but exciting all the same. Hanbin tests the give, tugging slightly on the restraints, listening to the sound of his heart beating rapidly in his ears as he realises he can hardly move his arms at all.
Zhang Hao moves to his ankles next, following the same process, but his ankles have more give. Hanbin can’t spread his legs all the way, is all. It feels more like a symbol of restraint than a real one. Hanbin likes it all the same. Zhang Hao leans over him, then, and takes the blindfold into his hands.
“Want this, too?” he asks, delicately holding it up to Hanbin’s eyes. Hanbin is already nodding before he’s even experienced the light disappearing from his vision.
“Yes, all of it,” Hanbin readily agrees, feeling more excited by the second. “I want to.”
The knot tied behind the back of his head is secure and Hanbin truly can’t see a thing. The fabric is soft. When Zhang Hao lightly pets his cheek, Hanbin jumps, startled. “Shhh,” Zhang Hao soothes, trailing his hand from Hanbin’s cheek all the way down to his chest. “Just feel, now, Hanbin-ah. Let gege take care of you. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”
That sounds nice, Hanbin thinks, breathing deeply, leaning into Zhang Hao’s touch. Whenever Zhang Hao removes his hand, Hanbin never knows where he’s going to put it down again, and the anticipation is thrilling. He lays still, waiting, patient. Zhang Hao strokes his arms, legs, thighs, chest—nipples. Hanbin whimpers at that, gasping as Zhang Hao puts his mouth on one, sucking it carefully into his mouth. He licks around the sensitive bud, treating it with great care, all while Hanbin whines and thrusts his cock into nothing. Zhang Hao places a guiding hand on his hip bone, stilling him. Hanbin can feel the shape of Zhang Hao’s smile against his skin.
When Zhang Hao disappears for a moment, his weight leaving the bed, a distressed sound escapes Hanbin’s throat, panic rising in his chest at the thought of being left here lying alone. “I’m right here,” Zhang Hao promises, placing a comforting hand on Hanbin’s forehead. Hanbin relaxes hearing him nearby. “Grabbing lube. Don’t fret, baby.”
He really is only gone for a second. Zhang Hao returns, this time to Hanbin’s side. Hanbin hears the lube uncap, then snap shut again. There’s a brief moment where nothing happens at all. Then Zhang Hao’s wet hand wraps around Hanbin’s aching dick and gives it a long, slow tug. “Oh fuck,” Hanbin moans, struggling to keep his hips still, eyes rolling into the back of his head behind the blindfold.
“Such a pretty cock, Hanbin-ah,” Zhang Hao comments mildly, seemingly unaffected. “Big, too. I think it would fit inside me nicely.”
“Nnnngh,” Hanbin manages, suddenly flooded with images of Zhang Hao sitting on his cock, and he isn’t able to articulate himself in any other way.
Zhang Hao strokes Hanbin steadily, squeezing at the base, dragging his hand up to the tip, thumbing at Hanbin’s foreskin then gracefully tugging his hand back down. On the fourth pull, he takes his free hand and rubs the palm of it across Hanbin’s cockhead, where he’s the most sensitive, and the wet sounds of lube and Hanbin’s leaking pre-come mixing in Zhang Hao’s grip squelch loudly in the otherwise quiet room. It’s almost torturous, but in an addicting way. The pleasure builds in Hanbin’s gut, swirling and curling up his spine with nowhere to go. Zhang Hao never quickens his pace. He’s silent, too, and Hanbin can feel his eyes on his body. He feels exposed, the temptation to cover himself overwhelming, unable to move. There’s a pleasure in that, too, that Hanbin doesn’t know how to put a name too. Feeling out of control of his own body. Like his autonomy has been stripped away and placed in Zhang Hao’s lap for Zhang Hao to use how he pleases, whether Hanbin likes it or not. Hanbin’s breath shakes, a tingling sensation in his fingertips. Zhang Hao strokes him again. Hanbin moans and arches into the touch, needy, so needy.
Immediately, Zhang Hao lets go. He holds Hanbin’s hips down, resetting him back into place. “Stay down, Hanbin-ah,” he orders, patting Hanbin once on the thigh before gripping his cock again. “Stay still for gege, okay?”
“Gege,” Hanbin whines, and Hanbin can tell it has an effect on Zhang Hao because he squeezes his cock in surprise. “Gege, please, I need it.”
“Begging already? We’ve just started.”
“You’re going so slow,” Hanbin dares to complain, pouting for good measure.
Zhang Hao hums. “I can go faster, but you’re not allowed to come, Hanbin. Don’t you want to save yourself for me?”
“Ah,” Hanbin breathes, thinking about that for a millisecond and wanting it beyond comparison. “I’ll be good,” he promises, squirming slightly on the mattress, flexing his wrists, noticing the way they press against the metal. “A little faster, please.”
“If you say so,” Zhang Hao sing-songs, then picks up the pace on Hanbin’s cock.
The difference is immediate. He doesn’t go ‘a little’ faster—he jerks Hanbin off like he means it. Hanbin gasps, legs flailing and hips canting involuntarily as Zhang Hao rubs his cockhead and applies pressure around Hanbin’s dick that has his mouth open and drooling, spilling against the pillow. “G-Gege!” Hanbin shouts, throwing his head to the side, panting madly. “Wha—?”
“You’re gonna be a good boy and hold it in, aren’t you?” Zhang Hao grunts, and Hanbin can feel that he’s shuffled closer, then one clothed knee is pressing on his thigh, holding him down. “You’ll listen to gege, right?”
“I said—a little—” Hanbin chokes out, the pleasure building so fast his eyes are crossing, and the leg not being held down by Zhang Hao is bending and twitching but unable to make it very far because of the ankle cuffs. Hanbin’s back is arching, now, too, and he’s squirming a lot, but Zhang Hao doesn’t scold him for it.
Hanbin hears Zhang Hao spit, and he feels the cool saliva hit his tip. “I’m giving you what you asked for,” Zhang Hao insists, “don’t you like it?”
“S-Slow down, please, gege, I—” Immediately, Zhang Hao is removing his knee and stroking Hanbin at a snail’s pace again. This time, he doesn’t let go, maintaining contact, which is somehow worse. Hanbin’s hips kick up into nothing—just the languid, loose grip Zhang Hao has on his cock.
“Gege!” Hanbin whines, embarrassed to feel tears springing in the corners of his eyes. He’s not sad, though, or necessarily upset, or angry. Frustrated, maybe a bit, but it’s a strange type of frustration. Like he’s playing a game with Zhang Hao, and it feels like he’s losing, but they both know there can only be winners in a game like this. The losing is part of the game.
Zhang Hao doesn’t respond, this time. He only strokes, driving Hanbin to what feels like a state of insanity, until Hanbin is begging him to go faster again and then he’s so overwhelmed he can’t feel his legs. It’s a bit like torture of the best kind. It’s not only his cock that feels stimulated, but his entire body, coursing through him in waves that never seem to end. It builds and builds, until he’s right on the precipice of falling through, choking on nothing as his back curves into a deep arch and his legs stiffen and Zhang Hao lets go.
All the breath returns to Hanbin at once. His cock twitches sporadically, ignored, as surges of pleasure crackle through him like a broken record, incomplete and missing tracks. When the colours spotting his vision disappear and he’s back to staring at the back of the blindfold, his cock is still rock hard, and he feels just as desperate to come as he did before. “Gege,” Hanbin sobs, pulling against the handcuffs, shivers running down his spine as the metal digs into his wrists. The slight pain brings him back to the present, squirming in the sheets, sweat pooling at the base of his spine.
Zhang Hao is patting his hair, sweeping it off his forehead in a soothing gesture. “I told you not to come, honey,” he says softly, a hint of scolding in his tone, as one would tell off an unruly dog. “You were gonna come anyway, weren’t you? After I said not to?”
Shame floods Hanbin’s chest and he chokes on his own breath. “I—I—” he stutters, wondering why his jaw feels tight, wondering why he feels like he’s really going to cry. “I didn’t m-mean to, gege, I’m sorry, really sorry, it f-felt so good, I forgot—”
“Baby,” Zhang Hao coos, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek, “do you want to try again? And this time, when you think you’re about to come, you can tell me, and I’ll stop, okay?”
Hanbin nods, no longer on the verge of tears, so easily influenced by the cadence of Zhang Hao’s voice. “Yes!” he agrees, pleased by the idea. He can make it up to Zhang Hao this time, and Zhang Hao will be so proud of him! Good boys get rewarded, right? Hanbin visualises Zhang Hao sinking down onto his cock and has to pinch his own thigh to stop himself from coming a bit due to the thought alone.
Zhang Hao takes Hanbin back into his hands and recommences the slow, delicious torture of jerking him off. Hanbin allows himself to really sink into it, accepting the pace for what it is and feeling. He follows every little spark of pleasure, every little tingle that spreads from his cock to his spine to his fingers and toes. Hanbin feels it in his blood, his bones, his brain. It courses through every part of him, until Hanbin realises he could come like this, slowly tipped over the edge like a gently poured glass.
“A-Ah stop!” Hanbin squeaks, thighs squeezing together in a tense grip. Zhang Hao releases him, trailing his hands across his stomach and chest instead, humming to himself.
“Good boy,” he praises, cupping Hanbin’s cheek once, spreading his fingers around his throat, then dragging his hand all the way down to fondle Hanbin’s balls. Hanbin keens at the praise, unsure if he enjoys Zhang Hao’s scolding tone or praising tone better, eager for more of both. “Let’s go again.”
Zhang Hao is quicker, this time, and does that thing with his opposite hand where he palms over Hanbin’s tip, which makes his entire body feel electrocuted. Hanbin doesn’t last as long, begging Zhang Hao to stop after a minute or two, panting heavily from the exertion of holding back. He waits, anticipating Zhang Hao’s compliments.
“Hmm,” is the only sound Zhang Hao makes, so the next time Zhang Hao touches him, Hanbin forces himself to last even longer. Two minutes—three. He barely gets to warn Zhang Hao to let him go before Zhang Hao is doing it himself, reading his body’s giveaways, learning his signs.
“Your cock is so red, Hanbin-ah,” Zhang Hao comments, pressing a finger to the tip. “You’re leaking, too. All over me, really. So messy. Here.” He presses the finger to Hanbin’s lips—expectant. Hanbin lets out a tentative little lick, scrunching his face up when he tastes his own bitterness on his tongue. Zhang Hao doesn’t remove his finger, though, so Hanbin dutifully licks him until he’s clean.
“What a good boy you are,” Zhang Hao sighs, sounding awfully content, and it makes Hanbin’s cheeks flush red. Hanbin is so happy. He realises it then—how happy he is. Every nerve in his body is alight and every endorphin is activated. He must make some kind of sound, because Zhang Hao giggles, running a hand through his hair. “You’re grinning, sweetheart. Are you having a good time?”
Hanbin feels the shape of his mouth shift, embarrassed by how easily his face had been to read. He didn’t even know he’d been smiling. “Ah—yeah,” Hanbin replies, “really good.”
Zhang Hao giggles again when Hanbin yelps at the feeling of his cock being grabbed for the fourth time. They go again, and again, and again. Hanbin loses himself in it. He loses himself in it so extensively that eventually, when Zhang Hao reaches out to touch him, Hanbin suddenly comes after one stroke, shooting white all over Zhang Hao’s hand and up over his own chest. He doesn’t even manage to warn Zhang Hao, because he barely gets the warning himself. All he knows is that he’s moaning gege over and over, shaking through wave after wave of orgasm, like it’s never ending. Even when he thinks it must be over, Zhang Hao continues to stroke him, and it doesn’t stop.
“O-oh,” Hanbin whines, feeling his back curling into a permanent arch, legs twisted, looking for a way to expel all this energy out of his body.
Zhang Hao tuts. “I didn’t give you permission to come, baby.”
Hanbin whimpers, squirming in his cuffs, a guilty feeling rising in his throat, but Zhang Hao is still touching him. “I-I’m sorry,” Hanbin babbles, thrusting his hips into the tight hole of Zhang Hao’s fist. “I’m—really sorry, gege, it felt—so good, and it—nghhh.”
“Look at you, still chasing it,” Zhang Hao observes, and he starts stroking Hanbin faster. “Like the orgasm never ended, yeah? So eager you can’t help yourself? Even handcuffed, you’re gonna try and take what you want?”
“Yyyyyy—no,” Hanbin answers, but his head is getting a bit muddled. The pleasure is so overwhelming, so intense, that he can’t think. It’s too much. It’s not enough. It’s not right. Fuck, it’s not right, but it’s exactly right. Hanbin knows if he were touching himself he would have already let go, unable to handle it. Zhang Hao makes him handle it. Makes him take it.
The hand moves faster. Hanbin feels like he’s being electrocuted. His cock is so sensitive, he thinks it might explode, or something. A litany of sounds are escaping his mouth, each higher pitched than the last, until the gibberish he’s spouting is virtually unintelligible. Hanbin whines, whimpers, moans, flails, kicks, screams, he’s shooting towards another orgasm, surely, did the first one ever even end, he’s never felt so fucking amazing in his life, it’s coming, he’s going to come, he’s still coming —
His vision is bright and blurry, all of a sudden. The blindfold is up on his forehead, and the pleasure is gone. He finds himself close to tears, whining, and all he can see is a vague blurry splodge of Zhang Hao’s body, which he frantically curls into, sobbing, “Why did you stop, gege, please, I was so close, I’m sorry, I didn’t ask for permission again, I’m so bad, I know, I’m sorry, but I was so so so so close I swear, why did you stop, gege, please, why did you stop —”
“Shhhhh,” Zhang Hao soothes. If he’s startled or confronted by Hanbin’s reaction, it doesn’t show. “Deep breaths, baby.” Hanbin tries, but he’s crying, rubbing his face into what he thinks is Zhang Hao’s slack-covered thigh. “It’s okay, Hanbin-ah. You’re not bad. Nothing is wrong, sweetheart.” When Hanbin hears that, he’s able to calm down, slowly reducing to sniffles, leaving a wet patch on Zhang Hao’s pants. Zhang Hao is running a hand through his hair again, and it feels so good, but Hanbin still doesn’t understand.
“You—I—That was so mean, gege,” Hanbin whines, betrayed and hurt.
“I only stopped because you asked me to, baby.” This is news to Hanbin. He turns his head and blinks up at Zhang Hao, who is gazing down at him with his eyebrows pulled together, clearly concerned.
“Asked you to?” Hanbin repeats, frowning. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”
Zhang Hao tilts his head. “It was a bunch of nonsense for a bit, then, ‘Gege, stop, no, no, no, stop, no,’ and I realised I must have pushed you too far. I’m sorry, Hanbin-ah. I got carried away.”
Hanbin thinks about the past few minutes, and oh, yeah, he definitely said that. He recalls begging Zhang Hao to stop, because it was too much, too sensitive, and he felt like he was going to die, but… “I didn’t mean it, though,” Hanbin says, turning over onto his back again. “I was just…overcome with emotion. Saying things.”
Zhang Hao’s head hovers above his, lips pouting. “When you say stop, I stop. I told you that at the start. I didn’t think we would get to a stage like this on our first go…”
“What do you mean?”
“If you don’t mean stop when you say stop, then you have to use a different word. A stand in that really means stop. So that you can beg me and say no and cry all you want and I know it’s not serious until you use the other word. I mean, I wasn’t expecting to have to introduce this tonight. It’s kind of next level.”
“Oh!” Hanbin exclaims, mouth spreading into a grin. “A safeword!”
Zhang Hao raises an eyebrow. “You know that one?”
Hanbin shakes his head. “No, I was just told earlier that since I don’t even know what a safeword is, getting involved with you was a bad idea.” Hanbin goes to send Zhang Hao a thumbs up, then remembers the situation with his hands, so he bails on that pretty quickly. “Except now I do! Can we go again?”
“You need to actually pick a safeword, Hanbin.”
“Right.” Hanbin thinks about it for a second. “Grapefruit?”
Zhang Hao laughs, and the barely-there tension bleeds from his shoulders. “Works for me.”
“Can you put the blindfold back on now?” Hanbin asks, settling himself comfortably into the sheets. “It was nice.”
“You’re really getting into this,” Zhang Hao remarks, adjusting the blindfold back over Hanbin’s eyes, tapping him on the nose once he’s done.
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“You’re more than I expected to handle, is all,” Zhang Hao clarifies. Hanbin feels weirdly safe with his eyesight taken away, like this is exactly back to where he’s meant to be. “Not in a bad way. I’m pleasantly surprised.”
“So you agree that we’re super compatible?” Hanbin teases, but it’s riddled with false confidence. He already feels the nerves building, like being in this state of vulnerability is some kind of trigger that changes the way he thinks.
“We’ll find out in a second,” Zhang Hao promises. Hanbin wonders what he means, but chokes on his words when he hears the sounds of Zhang Hao properly undressing. “If your cock fills me up right, you’ll pass.”
“My cock is great,” Hanbin blurts, causing Zhang Hao to giggle.
“Be a good boy and lay there nice and still for me,” Zhang Hao says, patting Hanbin’s thigh, and Hanbin feels the weight on the bed shift as Zhang Hao puts his knees on either side of him. “Lie there looking pretty while I prepare myself, okay? Won’t take long.”
“C-Can I?” Hanbin asks, salivating at the sound of the lube bottle opening.
“Hush,” Zhang Hao orders. “I already told you your responsibility. Lie there, and look pretty. Can’t you do what you’re told?”
A jolt zaps its way through Hanbin, and just like that, he feels himself starting to float. “Yes, gege,” he replies dutifully, focusing on staying still. “I’ll be good.”
“That’s it,” Zhang Hao sighs deeply, and Hanbin can visualise his fingers curling into himself from the tone of Zhang Hao’s voice alone. “God, yeah, that’s it.”
“Gege,” Hanbin whimpers. He wants to see, but he also wants to be denied the privilege of seeing. He wants to touch, and be denied the privilege of touching. Both occur at once as he struggles not to squirm between Zhang Hao’s open legs caging him in.
“Gege’s right here, baby,” Zhang Hao crows, sultry and deceptively sweet.
“I want it,” Hanbin begs, not really knowing what he’s asking for, except for evidently the tightness of Zhang Hao’s hole around his dick.
“Be patient,” Zhang Hao demands. “Gege needs to stretch himself properly to fit you.”
“Gege.”
“Hanbin-ah.”
“Gege!”
“You can’t come in me straight away, okay?” Zhang Hao orders, laying a palm on Hanbin’s chest. In the next second, Hanbin is whimpering as Zhang Hao rolls a condom down his length. “I’ll be upset if you don’t last.”
“Hhhggnnn,” Hanbin moans, thinking about coming inside of Zhang Hao and getting really horny about it.
“It’s a good thing I prep before I come out,” Zhang Hao muses, climbing up Hanbin’s body to settle over his weeping cock. “Waiting any longer for this would be a crime.”
Zhang Hao positions Hanbin’s cock at his entrance and sinks down.
“Ahh, gege!” Hanbin shouts, thrusting up into him all in one go.
Zhang Hao hisses, bracing himself on Hanbin’s chest. “Be still!” he grunts, clenching tightly around Hanbin’s length. “Fuck! Control yourself.”
“I’m sorry, gege,” Hanbin whines, thighs trembling with the effort of holding back. Zhang Hao’s hole feels so good. After being strung along for so long, the wet heat of a welcoming hole is like heaven to Hanbin. He’s never felt anything like it. “Gege, it feels so good!”
“You need to hold on longer, Hanbin-ah,” Zhang Hao reminds him, raising himself up slowly, then grinding back down again. Both of them moan in unison, briefly lost in the feeling. “B-Be a good boy for gege, hmm?”
“Please,” Hanbin gasps.
“No,” Zhang Hao says. “I should’ve grabbed a cock ring,” he adds, as an afterthought.
“I’ve tried really hard,” Hanbin offers, whimpering as Zhang Hao begins to ride him properly, setting a pace that is sure to have him nutting within the minute. “Please, gege, I’m not going to last.”
“Don’t you want to be a good boy for gege?” Zhang Hao asks, and Hanbin can hear the disappointed pout in his words.
“I do!” Hanbin insists, but it’s so hard. “I’m really—really trying!”
Zhang Hao laughs, rocking his hips back and forth, then one hand disappears and Hanbin can hear the sound of him jerking himself off. “Next time we’ll play for longer,” Zhang Hao promises. “More rules. I’ll be less lenient. Should we try punishments? There’s s-so much I can do with you.” His breaths start to falter. Hanbin is peaking, again, for what feels like the hundredth time, when it’s really only the third, or a continuation of the second. He’s been brought to and denied orgasm so many times he’s almost lost all the feeling in his cock. Not enough to prevent him from coming, though, which he does before Zhang Hao, whining and blabbering as he releases into the condom and is reduced to a heap on the bed.
“Stay,” Zhang Hao orders, voice dark and commanding. “You weren't supposed to come yet. I’m going to have to discipline you.”
“M’sorry,” Hanbin mutters, lost to the world. Zhang Hao is still using his cock, which is unable to soften with how aggressively Zhang Hao is riding it. “Too much, stop, please,” he whimpers, straining against his restraints, because his orgasm is over but it feels like it’s not. It’s painful. It’s addicting. It’s a rush he doesn’t know how to stop chasing. He wants it to be over and he never wants it to end. Hanbin feels entirely out of control.
“You know what to say if you mean it,” Zhang Hao reminds him, and Hanbin does, but Hanbin doesn’t mean it. Even though he is spent, overstimulated, twitching all over, and completely sucked dry, he doesn’t mean it. Hanbin is greedy and wants more.
“Please,” Hanbin begs, throwing his head back to expose his throat. “No, gege, stop, it’s—too much, please—”
“I am going to ruin you,” Zhang Hao swears, and comes apart on Hanbin’s cock.
Hanbin feels his orgasm; the tightening of his hole, the shuddering of his body, the wetness splashing over his chest. Like Hanbin’s, it seemingly lasts forever. When Zhang Hao does finally pull himself off of Hanbin, his soft, limp dick flops sadly against his thigh, utterly spent.
The condom gets pulled off, but Hanbin feels distant and disconnected. He’s vaguely aware of Zhang Hao wiping him down, undoing the cuffs, and removing the blindfold, but his eyes remain closed, basking in the afterglow. When he starts to shiver, Zhang Hao manoeuvres him until he’s under a blanket, and they lie there together for a while, until Hanbin is no longer shivering and he’s able to open his eyes.
Hanbin blinks, adjusting to the light in the room, even though it’s warm-toned and low. He glances up to find Zhang Hao has him cradled against his chest. “Do you think we’re compatible?” is the first thing Hanbin says, voice hoarse and hopeful. Zhang Hao laughs.
“I think we’re compatible in lots of ways, Hanbin-ah,” Zhang Hao teases, then his voice softens. “I’ve been coming here for a long time. Everyone has lists of things they want, don’t want, need, can’t live without—everyone sees me as a fantasy. Someone to fulfil their desires. Once they get it, they can’t get enough. They want it again, and again, and again. But I get bored.
“It’s the same, every time. It’s never anything new. For a long time, I haven’t tried anything new, either. I haven’t considered exploring myself, or trying new things, or approaching sex differently. Then tonight, you approached me.”
Hanbin blinks up at Zhang Hao, enamoured and listening intently. Zhang Hao smiles, leaning down to kiss him on the nose. “I’ve been looking for a partner in the wrong place. You looked at me, and—everything made sense.”
Their connection is two-way, Hanbin realises. The pull Hanbin feels towards Zhang Hao is also a pull in the opposite direction. Like fate, guiding them together. “I know what you mean,” Hanbin says softly, and it’s enough. Zhang Hao gets it. They don’t need to say any more on the topic, because they already know.
Perking up, Zhang Hao asks, “Wanna go back to yours or mine?” like it’s a given, like he knows Hanbin wants them to stay together, and Zhang Hao wants the same.
“Either is fine,” Hanbin insists, wanting to leave the choice up to Zhang Hao, because Zhang Hao making the decisions feels right.
“Mine, then,” Zhang Hao agrees easily. “I have more fun stuff at home that we can try tomorrow. Come on, let’s get you dressed and we can bathe properly once we get back.”
Hanbin feels like he’s floating on cloud nine as Zhang Hao dresses him and fixes his hair and makes him all presentable again. He suddenly understands Jiwoong, wanting his mind to completely slip away—for Zhang Hao to wrap a collar around his neck and lead him away on a leash. It’s comforting. Zhang Hao guides him out of the room, down the hall, the stairs, holding his hand the entire way. If people look, Hanbin doesn’t notice them this time. He’s too busy focusing on the place their palms are connected, spreading warmth between their fingers.
“Hey!” someone yells out at them, right as they’re nearing the exit. “Where do you think you’re going?”
It’s Matthew. He’s darted out from his booth to intercept them, even leaving Gunwook behind to catch them before they disappear.
Zhang Hao smiles coolly, raising his and Hanbin’s connected hands. “My place. Any issues?”
Matthew is not intimidated by Zhang Hao in the slightest. He narrows his eyes. “My hyung isn’t one of your toys that you can use up until you’re bored of him,” he says, incredibly stern. Hanbin’s never seen him like this before. His tongue feels like jelly in his mouth, though, and he wants Zhang Hao to do all the talking, so he watches, waiting to see what Zhang Hao will do.
“I never said he was,” Zhang Hao replies, sounding offended.
Matthew rolls his eyes. “You only like him because he’s new, inexperienced, and fun for you. What comes after that? When you’ve taught him everything, and he’s a sub like every other sub in here that you’ve gotten tired of?”
Zhang Hao considers that for a moment, then smiles. “I think by the time Hanbin has experienced me entirely, I’ll have fallen in love with him already,” he says, openly honest. “I think that’s what comes after this. And I think you’ve assumed a lot of things about me.”
Matthew has the decency to blush, eyes darting away, before landing on Hanbin and taking him in. Hanbin smiles, nodding once. “I’m good,” he assures, leaning his head on Zhang Hao’s shoulder. “I can take care of myself.”
Matthew breathes in, once, then lets it out. His body relaxes, minutely, before he acquiesces. “Alright,” he concedes, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I’ll stop being overprotective. I’m warning you, though.” Matthew points at Zhang Hao, raising an eyebrow for good measure.
“Warning received,” Zhang Hao says, but he’s smiling, because he knows Matthew cares. “By the way, Gunwook is really into cock humiliation,” he adds, nodding back towards Matthew’s booth where Gunwook, Taerae and Jiwoong are still sitting. “He’s super hung, but he likes it when you’re mean about it. He’s also never going to make the first move. He was really into stuff on the public stage before you turned up, too, but then he moved behind the bar so he could hypothetically gag on it from a distance. I think his ideal first time with you would be, like, cock and ball torture on the centre stage. You should initiate it. Trust me.”
Matthew blinks, face turning blank. “I am not going to ask you how you know all that,” he says, then turns towards one of the staff members to ask about reserving a stage slot for the night.
“What’s cock and ball torture?” Hanbin asks as they finally reach the club exit.
“It’s all in the name, Hanbin,” Zhang Hao says, and opens the door.