Midnight Snacks

by bibotoaushorts (pixieriotgcs)

Summary:

It starts with a stolen drink and a smirk in the dark. Seungmin knows exactly what he’s doing. And Changbin’s more than ready to remind his favorite little menace what happens when you play with fire — especially when you beg to get burned.

(Seungmin’s POV)

I wasn’t trying to wake him.
Not really.

Okay, fine. I absolutely was.
I even made noise on purpose.

The minibar clicks shut louder than it needs to, the bottle cap clinks against the counter — I glance over my shoulder and see him stir, just the faintest twitch in those broad shoulders under the hotel sheets.

He’s beautiful like this. Shirtless, half-asleep, his hair a mess and lips slightly parted, breathing slow and heavy. Vulnerable in a way no one else gets to see. Except me.

“Seungmin…” he groans, voice like gravel, thick with sleep. “What did I tell you about stealing my stuff?”

I pout — dramatically, because I know it works.
“You said I shouldn’t. But you also said you like when I misbehave.”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just blinks at me, slow and lazy. Then he licks his lips.
“You’re pushing it.”

Good. That’s the plan.

I pad over, barefoot and smug, holding the stolen bottle like a prize. I kneel at the foot of the bed, resting my chin on the mattress, eyes wide and sugar-coated.

“Hyung,” I whisper, all fake innocence and fluttered lashes. “You wouldn’t hurt me, would you?”

Changbin sits up, muscles flexing as the sheet falls from his waist. His gaze is heavy. Hungry. He tilts his head like he’s deciding whether to devour me whole or drag it out just to make me beg.

“Oh, Minnie,” he says, voice low. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He leans forward, grabs me by the collar — hard.
“I’m gonna ruin you.”

(Changbin’s POV)

He’s such a fucking menace.

That mouth, that attitude, that bratty little smirk that drives me insane — he knows exactly what he's doing when he kneels like that, when he acts coy while wearing my shirt and nothing else. It hangs off one shoulder, slipping down just enough to tease. Just enough to tempt.

And when I pull him up by the collar, that smirk widens. Like he wants to be dragged. Like he wants to be punished.

I press my lips to his — hard, rough — and he melts instantly, fingers tangling in my hair, body pressing into mine like he’s starved for it. He kisses like he fights: sharp, taunting, desperate to win.

But not tonight.
Tonight, I’m in charge.

I flip him onto his back and straddle his thighs, pinning him down with my weight. He giggles — the bastard giggles — and I silence him with a hand to his throat, not squeezing, just holding. Just enough to remind him he’s mine.

“You’re so full of yourself,” I mutter.

“You love it,” he replies, breathless.

I trail my hand down his chest, dragging my nails just enough to make him twitch. “Keep testing me and see what happens.”

“I am,” he says, voice all sing-song and smug. “Still not sorry.”

I grip his wrists and pin them above his head. He tries to squirm, but I tighten my hold.
“You don’t get to move unless I say so.”

His pupils dilate. His breath stutters.
And finally — finally — he stops talking.

I kiss down his neck, biting and sucking marks into his skin, making sure they’ll be there in the morning. He whimpers beneath me, legs shifting restlessly, already hard and leaking into the waistband of his boxers.

God, he’s needy .

I let go of his wrists only to shove his shirt up and off, exposing that flushed, perfect skin. My mouth follows the trail of goosebumps I leave behind — chest, stomach, hipbones — until I’m nuzzling the waistband of his underwear, breathing him in.

He lifts his hips in offering.
“Please, hyung…”

I look up at him, smirking. “Now you beg.”

He groans in frustration, heels digging into the mattress. “Please. Please touch me. I’ll be good.”

“You’re never good,” I growl, tugging the boxers down his thighs. “But you are mine.”

When I wrap my mouth around him, he nearly sobs.

His fingers thread into my hair before I slap them away — one sharp warning look is all it takes for him to remember: he gave up control the moment he stole that drink.

And right now, he’s mine to ruin.

(Seungmin’s POV)

I can’t breathe.

Not because he’s rough — okay, he is — but because he’s being so thorough . So slow . His mouth is hot and tight around me, tongue working me over like I’m dessert. His hands are gripping my thighs, holding me open, keeping me from moving even a centimeter.

And when I buck my hips just a little, testing him — he pulls off completely.

“Brat.”

“Sorry—! I didn’t mean—”
I’m lying and he knows it.

He slaps the inside of my thigh, not enough to hurt, just enough to make me whine.
“That’s strike two.”

“What's strike three?” I ask, breath hitching. “You gonna tie me up next?”

He narrows his eyes. “Tempting.”

Then he flips me again — so fast I gasp — and pulls me onto all fours, chest against the sheets, ass in the air. I feel him line up behind me, thick and hot and so fucking ready . I look back over my shoulder, panting, smirking.

“You gonna wreck me, hyung?”

He leans in, mouth against my ear.
“No. I’m gonna make you cry for it.”

(Changbin’s POV)

And I do.

I take my time. Thrusting slow at first, then hard, then deeper — until I hear his moans crack into sobs. Until he’s begging, high and broken, face buried in the pillow, fingers clenching the sheets.

His back arches. His thighs tremble.

He’s never this quiet outside the bedroom. But here — like this — he gives me everything.

And I give it all back.

I press a kiss between his shoulder blades. I hold his hips steady when he starts to shake. I murmur his name, over and over, like it’s sacred.

“Minnie… baby… that’s it. You’re doing so good for me…”

And when he comes — crying out, body collapsing — I follow right after, gasping his name into the sweat of his skin.

— Baebulleo 배불러 —

We lie tangled in the sheets, limbs everywhere, breath still uneven. His head rests on my chest, fingers drawing lazy circles over my stomach.

“…you okay?” I ask softly.

He nods, cheeks pink. “More than okay.”

I kiss the top of his head. “Still think stealing my drinks is worth it?”

He hums.
“Especially if I get manhandled for it.”

I groan. “You’re unbelievable.”

He looks up at me, eyes sparkling, voice smug.
“And you love it.”

“…I really do.”

He grins and shifts closer, nuzzling into my neck. “Next time, I’m stealing your snacks too.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Do that, and I will tie you up.”

“Good,” he whispers, lips brushing my jaw. “You’re finally learning.”