Chapter Text
Living alone is going to be great.
The first two years of university had been… an experience, to say the least. Sharing a dorm with two other people—messy and unorganised people—had been a challenge for someone as organised and active as Changbin.
Don't get him wrong, Jisung and Felix had become his best friends, but at some point, he started feeling like a nagging parent, telling them to tidy up after themselves. Not to mention how awkward it was when any of them hooked up with only paper-thin walls to separate them.
So after saving up and a bit of help from his dear mother, he got his own place.
Now, he probably could've done this from the start, his parents are, for a lack of a better word, rich. But he wanted to have an authentic college experience.
Now he's had it and he's over it.
So here he is on a Monday during summer break, with everything unpacked into his new three-bedroom apartment. One bedroom for himself, one for his visiting friends and one for a home gym. Perfect.
His phone ringing breaks him out of his contemplation. Pulling it out of his pocket, he sees it's his mother, who had only just dropped him off.
“Hey, everything okay? You only just left,” he asks, concern lacing his voice.
“Hi, sweetie,” his mother greets. “No, nothing wrong, it's just that my friend from the club just rang in a panic. You know, Mrs. Kim? That lovely lady who always brings me banana bread to take home?” Changbin knows the one, that banana bread is fucking delicious.
“Yes, I remember her.” More like he remembers her banana bread.
“Well you see, her son was supposed to be starting his summer apprenticeship in the city next week, but the apartment he'd signed a lease for ended up being a scam, and it's too short notice to find anything else.”
“Okay…” Changbin doesn't like where this is going.
“So I mentioned how we just moved you into a place with a spare room…”
Changbin grits his teeth. No matter how annoyed he is, he'd never take it out on his mother. “Okay.”
“And I may have told her he can stay with you until he finds somewhere new. He will pay rent, of course,” she explains.
Changbin takes a deep breath, steadying himself before replying. “Does he have to?”
“Well, no, you get the final say, darling. But I would really appreciate it if we could help the Kims out. This apprenticeship is a rare opportunity for him at one of the best law firms in the city. If he can't find anywhere to stay, he'll have to give it up, the poor dear.”
This gives him pause for thought. If he's training to be a lawyer, he's probably organised and tidy. That's how it works, right? Jisung and Felix had been messy because of their artistic and passionate personalities. Definitely, so this should be fine.
And if he's being honest with himself, he could never say no to his mother.
“Okay. He can stay here until he finds somewhere,” Changbins resigns.
His mother instantly coos over the phone. “Thank you so much, darling. I knew I could count on you. I'll let you go now and settle in, I'll call you tomorrow with more details. I love you.”
“Love you,” he says before the line goes dead.
Well, now there is a slight change to the layout. The apartment now has a bedroom, his home gym and a room for his new house guest.
Not exactly how he'd planned it.
⋆☀︎｡
The guy's name is Seungmin.
He'll arrive on Thursday.
Changbin has two more days of uninterrupted bliss. So, of course, he’s having a get-together with his closest friends on Tuesday night.
“This place is sick ,” Felix whistles as he kicks off his shoes by the door, cradling three bottles of soju. “Three bedrooms? Living like a CEO.”
“It even smells clean,” Jisung adds dramatically, trailing behind Felix, two bags of snacks in hand. “Not like ramen and old socks.”
Changbin rolls his eyes. “That’s what happens when I don’t live with you two gremlins.”
Jisung pokes his tongue out at him, but Changbin knows it’s lighthearted.
The living room is still a little bare. He has a couch, a coffee table, a TV and a games console Felix gifted to him, but it already feels like home. It’s his.
There’s a pizza box in the kitchen already, and bowls awaiting their snacks. The guys make themselves at home like they always do, Felix immediately plopping down on the couch and booting up the console, and Jisung disappearing into the kitchen to rummage for shot glasses.
“Okay, but seriously,” Felix says, pulling open a bag of chips. “I’m so happy for you. Living the dream.”
Changbin pats him on the shoulder and heads into the kitchen to collect the pizza. He reemerges with the pizza balanced in one hand and a pile of snacks in the other. He sets the box down on the coffee table and flips it open, the delicious scent of greasy, cheesy perfection immediately filling the room.
“Pepperoni, your guys’ favourite,” he announces, grabbing a slice before the others can pounce.
“ My hero ,” Jisung cheers, sitting down on the floor, already halfway through pouring soju into a glass. “You spoil us.”
They all clink glasses, knock one back, and immediately hiss as it burns down their throats. Felix coughs dramatically, and Jisung winces like he just took straight vodka. He loves his lightweight friends.
“Okay, now that we’re all a little buzzed and emotionally vulnerable,” Changbin says, mouth half full of pizza. “I’ve got some news.”
Felix pauses mid-swipe on the controller, and Jisung, who was about to rip open something sweet, freezes with the bag half torn.
“I’m getting a roommate.”
The response is immediate.
“ What? ” Jisung’s voice jumps up in pitch. “You only just got away from us. Didn’t you say the whole point of this place was for privacy, to not have to clean up after someone else?”
“Yeah, and didn’t you say you were sick of hearing Jisung through the walls whenever Minho was over? Who’s to say this guy isn’t the same?” Felix makes a good point.
“I am not that loud,” Jisung mumbles defensively.
“ Lies ,” Changbin and Felix say in unison. “You are, and I’m sick of it,” Felix complains.
Jisung pouts, crossing his arms. “You guys weren’t perfect either.”
Changbin holds a hand up, cutting them off before they derail into chaos like usual. “It’s not forever. It’s just my mom’s friends, son. He’s called Seungmin. His apartment fell through, a total scam situation. He’s starting an apprenticeship at some super fancy law firm and didn’t have anywhere else to go on short notice. So, yeah.”
Jisung stares. “And it was your mom who just volunteered your place?”
“Yeah. I didn’t really feel like I had a choice. Plus, you know I can’t say no to my mom,” Changbin laughs.
“True, you are a mommy’s boy,” Jisung coos, and Changbin shoots him a disgusted glare.
Felix frowns, looking uncharacteristically serious for a moment. “That sucks for him, though. Getting scammed and being so close to losing something that important.” Typical Felix, always an angel.
“Yeah,” Changbin admits, leaning back on the couch. “No way I was gonna say no. It’s Mrs. Kim’s son—you know the one who bakes the banana bread.”
Both their eyes widen.
“Ohhhh,” Felix says. “Okay, yeah. That banana bread is next level.”
“Oh my god, what if he also makes it? Banana bread every week.” Jisung says.
“I hope not. I wouldn’t be able to resist,” Changbin chuckles. “Anyway, yeah. I couldn’t say no. He’s moving in on Thursday.”
Jisung makes a show of flopping onto his back like someone just told him somebody cancelled Christmas. “Ugh. There goes our land of freedom. You were supposed to be our symbol of hope.”
“You’ll survive,” Changbin says, kicking lightly at his ankle. “Besides, he’s a law student. How bad could he be?”
Felix raises an eyebrow. “You said that about the last guy you met on Grindr, and how did that turn out?”
“Yeah, the next time a guy says he’s a magician, you avoid them,” Jisung interjects.
Changbin groans. “Listen, this is different. This guy is going to live here. I’m not trying to hook up with him, or even get close.”
Jisung hums thoughtfully. “I bet he’s hot.”
“And probably straight. Plus, it doesn’t matter whether he is or he isn’t,” Changbin mutters.
“Sure,” Felix winks.
They dissolve into laughter, and soon enough the rest of the evening falls back into how it usually does—games, soju, half-drunken debates like who would win out of vampires and zombies.
But even as they laugh and let loose, Changbin can’t help but glance toward the closed door of the guest room.
Two more days of peace.
⋆☀︎｡
On Thursday morning, Changbin wakes up to silence.
Glorious silence.
No Jisung watching anime. No Felix making a mess in the kitchen, baking brownies—a mess Changbin would have to clean up. It was just the birds outside his window and the hum of the air conditioning.
He stretches in his bed, arms above his head. It feels like any other day, except it isn’t. Seungmin will be arriving after lunch.
He groans, throwing his arm over his face. Really, he doesn’t hate the idea of sharing a space again. It’s just… he was so close to complete solitude. And now, some mystery guy is about to crash into his sanctuary.
Still, he gets up. It’s not like he can delay the inevitable.
The worst part about it is that he has to take a break from the gym to clean up the apartment in time. By noon, the space is spotless—even more than usual. Changbin tries to play it cool; he’s no stranger to meeting new people, but he’s definitely rearranged the pillows on the couch three times and gone over every corner of the guest bedroom twice.
When the intercom buzzes, it’s exactly one p.m., his heart jumps.
He presses the button. “Hello?”
A beat. Then a clear voice replies, melodic and low: “Hi. This is Kim Seungmin.”
“Oh, right. Come up!”
Changbin props the front door open, arms crossed, and he’s expecting someone… average. Underwhelming. Maybe a little awkward. Glasses, probably. A bag stuffed with textbooks. Someone who looks like they could be scammed and is currently pursuing a law degree.
But when the elevator doors opens—
Oh.
That is Seungmin?
Strong jawline, brows that sit perfectly above cool, unreadable eyes. Full lips. A gaze so flatly unimpressed that Changbin feels like he’s already failed some kind of unspoken test. He looks like he could cut someone down with a single glance, like every time he looks your way and you don't spontaneously combust, you’ve been spared.
He’s wearing a crisp white button-up, sleeves pushed just enough to show off his lean forearms, and it’s paired with black slacks that hang effortlessly off his slim frame. There’s nothing overly flashy about him, no obvious attempt to impress, but everything about the way he moves screams self-confidence. Awareness.
He steps inside like he belongs already, and Changbin barely manages to hide the way his eyes drag across him. And the worst part? He’s polite.
“Thanks for letting me stay with you,” Seungmin says with a small, respectful bow, voice soft but firm.
And just like that, the mental blueprint Changbin had sketched out in his head goes up in flames. Seungmin is beautiful. Clean-cut and calm, and exactly his type.
He’s cute, and he’s hot . And he’s going to be sleeping in the room next to his.
“No problem,” Changbin finally croaks back after what seems like far too long. “I’m, uh. Changbin.”
“I know,” Seungmin replies easily. “I’ve heard all about you. And your biceps.”
“My what ?” Changbin chokes out.
Seungmin gives him the faintest smirk, like he’s just been let in on a private joke. “Never mind. Where’s my room?”
Changbin doesn’t know what to do with himself, really. “Oh, uh—yeah. Follow me.”
Seungmin does exactly that, follows. Quiet and measured. He doesn’t look overwhelmed, like many people would, or grateful. And it throws Changbin off more than he’d like to admit.
“This is the guest room, well it was, it’s yours now. There are fresh sheets and towels on the bed. Bathroom’s across the hall. I’m still furnishing the place, so it’s a little bare. You can decorate your room however you like. Just make yourself at home.”
Seungmin steps inside and nods approvingly, sucking in his upper lip ever so slightly. “This’ll work. Thanks again for letting me stay. I know it wasn’t exactly your plan.”
That catches Changbin off guard. “You heard about that, huh?”
“Mom said you were thrilled to have a stranger invade your personal space.”
“I mean, it wasn’t exactly what I was expecting, but it’s fine. Really.”
Seungmin hums and starts unpacking what he has—just one bag—and Changbin leans against the doorframe, watching him.
“So…” he speaks into the silence. “Are you one of those super serious law guys who sleeps four hours a night and only lives on black coffee?”
“Would you like me less if I said yes?”
Changbin raises an eyebrow. “I would be suspicious if you weren’t .”
Seungmin shrugs, faint amusement in his eyes. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
“Looking forward to it,” Changbin says with a grin.
“By the way, my dad will be over tomorrow morning to bring the rest of my stuff.” Okay, that makes more sense.
“Sure thing.”
And just like that, he turns back to unpacking, entirely unbothered.
Changbin pushes off the doorframe and heads back to the living room, trying too hard not to think, especially not about the fact that his new roommate is smoking hot.
He plops down on the couch and pulls out his phone to text the group chat.
Changbin
He’s here
He seems clean and organised.
Oh and he’s fucking hot
This is gonna be a problem
Jisung:
LMAOO sounds like you met your match, good luck bro
Lix
Omg send pics 👀
Changbin throws his phone to the side and groans into the couch cushions.
Yeah. He’s screwed.
⋆☀︎｡
The night passes without much excitement.
Changbin doesn’t see Seungmin again after showing him to his room. There’s no awkward small talk, no bumping into each other in the kitchen. It’s almost like he isn’t even there. The only evidence is the golden light spilling from the cracks in the door.
Maybe this won’t be so bad , Changbin thinks as he flops into bed.
The next morning, Changbin wakes up early out of habit.
6:30 a.m.
The apartment is still wrapped in the quiet of dawn, even though the summer light is already streaming through the windows. He changes into his gym shorts and a tank top, tossing his curly hair into a cap. Then he heads to the third bedroom—his sanctuary.
The gym room isn’t huge, not at all. But it has the essentials. Enough to keep him sane when he can’t or doesn’t want to make the journey to the actual gym.
He starts his usual routine, earbuds in, the bass pumping through him as he works his way through squats, presses, rows—sweat already beginning to bead at his temples in the summer heat.
It’s mid-set, as he’s curling a heavy barbell, that he feels something—an unmistakable feeling of being watched .
At first, he brushes it off. Maybe he’s letting his imagination get the best of him, the lack of sleep catching up to him.
But on his next set, he catches movement in his peripheral vision, and turning slightly, he sees him—
Seungmin.
He’s standing in the open doorway, barefoot, hair a little mussed like he just rolled out of bed. He’s wearing a loose white t-shirt and baggy shorts, hands tucked behind him with a sleepy, almost lazy look on his face.
And he’s watching.
Changbin's first instinct is to freeze.
But then their eyes meet.
Seungmin tilts his head slightly like a curious dog, eyebrows raising slightly—as if he’s mildly impressed, but far too cool to actually say anything. Then, with a slight smirk playing at the corner of his lips, Seungmin gives a tiny nod, like he’s giving his approval. Then he walks away without a single word. Just like that. Gone.
He leaves Changbin standing there, weight in hand, completely thrown by the interaction.
He lets out an incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “What the fuck,” he mutters to himself as he puts the weight back on the rack and wipes his hands on a towel. And the worst part, now that Changbin has gotten over the shock, is that Seungmin looked good half-asleep, swallowed in baggy clothes.
Too good.
After finishing up with his workout, Changbin jumps into the shower, letting the hot water pound against his back as he tries— really hard— not to think about the fact that Seungmin had been watching him so blatantly.
And somehow, the guy had made it seem like it wasn’t even a big deal.
By the time he steps out, towel slung low around his hips, he’s determined to act normal. He throws on a loose white t-shirt and grey sweats, running a hand through his damp hair before padding barefoot to the kitchen.
But as he rounds the corner, he stops dead in his tracks.
Seungmin is there.
He’s standing in the kitchen, messing around with the coffee machine like he’s lived here for years. He’s still wearing his sleeping clothes from earlier, and something about how comfortable he looks in Changbin’s space makes butterflies flutter in his chest.
“Oh. Morning,” Seungmin says when he notices him, his voice still rough. He lifts a mug he must have found in the cupboard.
Changbin blinks. “Morning.”
He goes to the fridge and pretends he isn’t hyper-aware of every move Seungmin makes across the room.
“So, uh…” Changbin clears his throat, pulling out a protein shake he prepared yesterday. “You always make it a habit to watch people work out?”
Seungmin snorts and leans back against the counter, arms crossing casually over his chest. “You were making a lot of noise,” he says dryly, eyes glinting with amusement. “Thought there was an animal dying.”
Changbin gapes at him. “ What? ”
“Well, you know, the way you were grunting—” Seungmin picks up his mug again, hiding the smirk tugging at his mouth. “I was worried you might need medical attention.”
Changbin splutters, the tips of his ears turning pink. “ Weights are heavy! ”
“Oh, I could tell,” Seungmin says, his eyes trailing to his arms briefly, so quickly Changbin could almost convince himself it didn’t happen. “You have good form.”
Was that… flirting? Surely not. He honestly can’t tell. Changbin is usually observant; nothing gets past him. But Seungmin? He can’t work him out.
“Thanks,” he mutters.
Seungmin’s lips twitch like he knows exactly the effect he’s having. Searching for a way out, Changbin switches the topic. “So what are your plans today?”
Seungmin shrugs. “Nothing important. Meeting my dad downstairs soon to grab the rest of my things. Might explore the city a bit.”
Changbin nods, chewing his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Need any help bringing your boxes up?”
Seungmin looks over the rim of his mug, considering him for a second longer than necessary.
“Sure,” he says. “Since you’ve got all those muscles… it would be a shame if I didn’t put them to use.”
Changbin nearly chokes… again.
He quickly turns and opens the fridge, pretending to grab something he doesn’t quite find.
“Right. Yeah. Muscles. Got it.” He curses the way his face heats up.
When he dares to close the fridge and peek back over his shoulder, Seungmin’s already turned away, calmly sipping his coffee.
Then, Seungmin’s phone buzzes. “Oh, my dad’s downstairs now. Let’s go, muscles.”
Changbin mutters something under his breath about losing his mind, but he straightens up and rolls his shoulders back, pulling himself together. “Alright, let’s go.”
Seungmin hums thoughtfully, following him to the door and grabbing his shoes on the way. The ride down is mostly quiet, a little awkward. Every time Changbin sneaks a glance, though, Seungmin looks completely unfazed, scrolling lazily through his phone, one hand in his pocket.
He’s way too comfortable. Changbin envies him.
The elevator dings open, and they walk out of the building and towards the black SUV crammed full of boxes and a suitcase.
“Morning, Dad,” Seungmin calls as they approach.
His father gives him a stiff nod and a quick glance at him. “You Changbin?”
“That’s me,” Changbin smiles and bows respectfully. He’s had years of polite upbringing drilled into him by his parents.
“Alright, good to meet you. I don’t wanna be parked here long. Let’s get this done.” Changbin chuckles under his breath at the typical no-nonsense dad energy.
He grabs two large boxes stacked one on top of the other, heavier than they look, and Seungmin moves to pick up the suitcases.
“You sure you can manage that?” Changbin teases.
Seungmin snorts. “I’m stronger than I look.”
Changbin glances back and immediately regrets it. Because Seungmin’s arms, while slim, still flex just enough under the weight, causing his mouth to go dry for a second. Fuck, he really is his type.
Focus .
“Just saying,” Changbin says instead. “Wouldn’t want you to pull something.”
Seungmin’s lips curve wickedly. “Worried about me already? How cute.”
Changbin almost drops the damn boxes.
He turns on his heel and marches toward the building without another word, hearing Seungmin’s amused chuckle behind him.
They get into the elevator again, the air feeling slightly heavier than before.
Changbin’s doing his best not to break a sweat, but his arms are aching from earlier, the boxes are heavy, and Seungmin is standing way too close behind him—close enough that he swears he can feel the heat coming off him.
“Can I use your gym, too?” Sengmin asks unprompted.
Changbin is thrown off. “Yeah, as long as you don’t leave it a mess.”
Seungmin leans a little closer, voice dropping into something suspicious. “Oh? You gonna punish me if I do?”
Changbin almost drops the boxes… again. Luckily, the elevator doors open just in time to save him from answering.
By the time everything is unloaded into Seungmin’s room, Changbin is sweating, his muscles already strained from his earlier workout.
Seungmin stretches lazily, his arms above his head, his shirt riding up just enough to flash a sliver of pale skin.
Changbin whips his head away so fast it almost hurts.
“Well,” Seungmin says with a pleased sigh, flopping onto his bed dramatically. “Thanks for the help. You make a good pack mule.”
Changbin stares at him, deadpan. “Glad to be of service.”
Seungmin flashes a grin—small, sharp, and knowing—before tossing a bottle of water at him from his nightstand.
“Hydrate,” he says with a smirk. “You look thirsty.”
This guy is going to be hard to handle.
Changbin gulps down half the bottle in one go, letting the cold liquid cool him off—not like it’s helping with the real problem.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and throws a loose grin over his shoulder. “Well, you’re all moved in. Congratulations.”
Seungmin laughs under his breath, pushing himself upright, sitting on the edge of his bed with his elbows resting on his knees.
“I’ll be the best roommate, I swear,” he promises. “You’ll forget I’m even here.”
Highly unlikely , Changbin thinks.
Seungmin tilts his head a little. “Oh, by the way. You busy tonight?”
Changbin frowns. “Uh. No? Why?”
Seungmin shrugs, playing with the hem of his shirt. “I was thinking we could go out. Get a drink or something, you know? As a thank you for letting me live here.”
Changbin blinks, thrown by the sudden suggestion. “Oh. Uh, yeah. Sure. I mean, I don’t usually go out on Thursdays, but… yeah. Why the hell not.”
Seungmin flashes a lazy smile, eyes dropping just for a second to Changbin’s mouth before flicking away again. “Great. Let’s gather at seven?”
“Sure.”
Changbin: he just asked me out for a drink, fuck
Jisung: LMAO he wants your chode
Changbin: I do not have a fucking chode
Felix: Bro, I’ve sucked your dick, that was like the king of all chodes
Jisung: YOU DID????
Felix: Ye, we were in our peak bromance era
Jisung: Does that mean we never reached our peak?
Felix: No, that means you have a fucking boyfriend
Jisung: Excuses
Changbin: Guys. Can we get back to my shit, please?
Felix: Fine fine. Hot boy asked you out for drinks
Jisung: The world is truly healing
Changbin: So. What do I do?
Felix: show him your thick chode
Jisung: show me too while you’re at it
Changbin: Why did I think I could get a serious answer out of Thing 1 and Thing 2
Felix: I’m Thing 1 right?
Right?????
Hello?????
I’M 1 RIGHT?
Jisung: no i’m older
Felix: BY LESS THAN ONE DAY!!!
Changbin chuckles, deciding to pocket his phone, letting Felix suffer. For the rest of the day, he works on a track. When the time comes around, he gets ready, nothing fancy, right? Just a drink. He throws on a black t-shirt that hugs his chest and some jeans that leave enough to the imagination.
When he finally emerges, Seungmin is already waiting. And he’s dressed in the most dangerous casual style: tight black jeans, a white shirt unbuttoned just enough to show his delicate collarbone, a thin silver chain hugging his throat. His hair is a little messy, but it works.
“You clean up nice,” Seungmin says, tilting his head.
Changbin grunts a ‘thanks’ and forces himself to open the door before he combusts.
⋆☀︎｡
The bar he takes Seungmin to is dim, cosy, with warm lights strung across the ceiling; one of his favourite places in the city.
Seungmin takes it upon himself to order with confidence. The bartender grins, nods, and disappears to work on their drinks.
“I feel like I’m about to be poisoned,” he mutters as they slide into their corner booth, soft cushions pressing against his back.
“Would I do that to you?” Seungmin asks innocently, leaning forward on his elbows.
Changbin raises a brow. “Do you want the honest answer, or?”
Seungmin just laughs, the sound is light and dry. “Relax. You’ll like it.”
The drinks arrive a minute later—short glasses, clinking with clear ice, thin slices of orange peel curling inside. Changbin takes a cautious sip, then blinks.
Oh. It’s good. Tart and bright, with a low burn of something at its base.
Seungmin watches him over the rim of his glass, eyes glittering. “See? I can be trusted.”
“The jury is still out on that.”
They settle into a rhythm after that, easier than Changbin expected. The conversation stretches and flows—music low in the background, people chattering at the other tables, but all of it fades beneath the steady thread of Seungmin’s melodic voice.
They talk about studying, about shitty professors and caffeine-fueled all-nighters. Seungmin talks about his internship, just enough for Changbin to realise how intelligent he is. How sharp.
At one point, Changbin makes a joke about lawyers being soulless, and Seungmin snorts. “You’d be surprised how many of us started with good intentions.”
“Oh yeah? What were yours?”
Seungmin taps the side of his glass, thoughtful. “My story is cliche. It’s what my father wanted, and apparently I love being miserable.”
“Wow. What a positive outlook,” Changbin laughs awkwardly.
“I’m fun at parties.”
“You’re fun right now,” Changbin says before he can stop himself.
Seungmin’s brow arches, his smile tilting. “That so?”
Changbin clears his throat and focuses very intently on his drink. “I just mean you’re not as uptight as I thought you’d be.”
“You thought I’d be uptight?”
“I mean… you’re a law student. You have that whole serious, scary-eyes thing going on.”
“Scary eyes,” Seungmin repeats, amused. “I’ll add that to my list of skills.”
Changbin smirks, feeling more at ease now. “Do you wear glasses when you study?”
“Why? Do you find that hot?” Seungmin smirks.
“I— no.” He winces. “I just—you know, in movies it’s like that. Glasses, a million notebooks, five backup pens—”
Seungmin nods slowly. “I have all of those.”
“Of course you do.”
“But I don’t wear glasses,” Seungmin adds, tilting his head. “Are you disappointed?”
Changbin nearly chokes on his drink.
Seungmin pretends not to notice, just swirls the ice in his glass and continues smoothly. “Though I do have one of those little desk organisers. You know, the kind with labelled compartments for paperclips and sticky notes.”
Changbin lets out a low laugh. “Of course you do. Let me guess—different coloured highlighters for different modules?”
Seungmin doesn’t even blink. “Naturally. Otherwise, what’s the point?”
“You’re terrifying.”
“I prefer efficient.”
Changbin grins and shakes his head. The atmosphere around them softens. It’s not quite friendship. Not yet. But the edges are softening, and they’re softening fast.
“So what about you?” Seungmin asks after a beat, tipping his chin in his direction. “What’s your version of colour-coded stationery?”
Changbin considers that, tracing the rim of his glass with one finger. “I guess my schedule. Working out is non-negotiable. Working on music, too.”
Seungmin nods. “That’s not a shock.”
“Why?”
“You just seem like someone who doesn’t do well with surprises.”
Changbin raises a brow. “You say that like it’s a flaw.”
“It’s just an observation.”
And Seungmin was right, as demonstrated by what he walked into the next morning.
He really does hate surprises, and Seungmin sitting on the kitchen barstool in nothing but a baggy shirt and tiny running shorts is a massive disruption.
Changbin pauses in the hallway, gripping his phone like a weapon, mentally preparing himself for how to act around him. He had woken up early and had planned to have a quiet start: a solo workout, a nice shower, some eggs and bacon to top it off. Peace. He hadn’t expected Seungmin to be awake already, let alone… like this.
The shirt hangs off one shoulder. The shorts aren’t really shorts so much as a belt. And Seungmin? He’s completely at ease, legs stretched out and crossed at his ankles, scrolling on his phone like he’s in his own damn apartment. Changbin can hear him humming softly to himself, and he recognises the unforgettable notes of Birds of A Feather, even his humming is hypnotising.
He glances up as he hears Changbin enter. “Morning.”
Changbin tries not to look directly at his slender thighs. Fails. “You’re up early.”
“Your coffee machine was calling me,” Seungmin says.
He takes a sip from the mug in front of him, one that Changbin didn’t even know he owned. Something floral. He’s never used it.
Seungmin notices his look and raises it. “This is really cute.”
“I think it’s my mom’s, to be honest.”
“She has great taste.”
Changbin exhales through his nose and heads toward the fridge. He refuses to let Seungmin’s impossible long legs derail him. “You have plans today?”
“Mm. Might visit the firm’s building just to scope it out before Monday.”
Changbin pulls out what he wanted from the fridge and pretends he’s not aware of every movement Seungmin makes behind him.
“You?”
“Workout. Laundry. Groceries.”
“Wild.”
“I live life on the edge.”
There’s a soft laugh behind him, and it makes something flutter in his chest—something unwelcome. Changbin keeps his head down.
“You know,” Changbin starts, “if you’re heading to the firm today, I can show you the way. I used to pass the building every day on my way to the university.”
Behind him, there’s a pause. He hears the gentle clink of Seungmin setting the mug down.
“You don’t have to do that,” Seungmin replies.
“I know,” Changbin says, glancing over his shoulder. “Just thought it might be easier than squinting at your phone, trying to find your way in this heat.”
Seungmin tilts his head, considering. “Alright. If you insist.”
“I do.”
A small nod. “Then sure. Thanks.”
“We can head out in a few hours once I’m done with my workout?” Changbin suggests.
Seungmin nods. “Sure. I’ll throw on something less scandalous.”
“Please do.”
Seungmin grins. “Don’t sound too relieved.”
Changbin doesn’t answer. Just turns away and heads into his gym to work out.
The next hour passes in a blur of sweat and self-discipline. He pushes himself harder than usual—longer sets, heavier weights. He tells himself it’s because he’s more motivated, but deep down, he knows it’s partly to burn off the restless energy curling beneath his skin.
When he’s done, his arms are trembling slightly, his shirt sticking to his back. He takes a cold shower, tries not to imagine Seungmin anywhere in the apartment when he’s naked, then dresses in a plain black tee and jean shorts.
When he emerges, Seungmin is back at the kitchen island looking sleek and crisp as usual.
“You ready?” Changbin asks, grabbing his keys.
“Mhm.”
They step out into the heavy warmth of late morning, sunlight already clinging to their skin. The pavement radiates heat beneath their feet, and the steady hum of cicadas fills the air like a restless chorus. Changbin leads them down the main road, then cuts through a shaded path that runs alongside the park.
Seungmin walks like he’s in no rush at all. It’s not arrogance exactly, but there’s something in the way he holds himself, hands tucked into his pockets, gaze flicking around to take in their surroundings.
“This is nice,” Seungmin says after a while, gesturing to the nature. “It’s quiet.”
“Yeah, I always take this way. Beats walking along the busy bus route, even if that’s quicker.”
“Makes sense. You don’t strike me as a headphones-in, tune-everything-out kind of guy.”
“Why not?”
“You talk too much for that.”
Changbin side-eyes him. “Wow. Brutal.”
“That’s me.”
They walk a few more minutes in easy silence, the city beginning to bustle as they exit the park.
“That’s it up ahead,” Changbin says, pointing to a sleek glass building tucked between small apartment blocks, cafes and convenience stores. “Lee & Han.”
Seungmin slows down beside him, eyes scanning the structure from base to rooftop. His lips purse slightly—not unimpressed, but not exactly thrilled either.
“Looks nice. I’m not going in today, though,” he says casually.
Changbin glances at him. “You’re not?”
“Nah. Just wanted to see where it was. Walk the route from home, you know?”
“Huh.” Changbin nods slowly. “Smart.”
“I’ll be anxious enough on the first day. No need to get lost on top of that.”
“Fair.”
They linger a few steps away from the building before Seungmin turns toward him. “You needed to get groceries, right?”
Changbin raises his brow. “Yeah?”
“I’ll come with you. I’m dying for some instant ramen, and all you have is real food.”
Changbin snorts. “Sorry for keeping the kitchen stocked with actual nutrients.”
Seungmin starts walking again. “It’s suspicious. Not a single pre-packaged carb in sight. You must be hiding something.”
“Yeah. A functioning digestive system.”
“Well, I’m about to sabotage it.”
Changbin rolls his eyes, but honestly? He’s starting to really enjoy Seungmin’s company. It’s kind of amazing how natural hanging out with him feels already, walking by someone he basically just met.
The store Changbin usually goes to is close by, tucked between a laundromat and a bakery cafe that smells way too good. The air conditioning hits him with relief as soon as they step through the automatic doors, almost too sharp after being outside. Seungmin makes a satisfied sound, though, heading for the snack aisle as Changbin grabs a cart.
He follows at a slower pace, shaking his head as Sungmin starts loading it with ramen, chips and all manner of unhealthy packages.
“I’m going to have to get a second cart just for you.”
“I’m a growing boy.”
“Yeah? I think you’ve grown enough,” Changbin laughs, mentally comparing their heights.
Seungmin doesn’t offer a reply; he just tosses more ramen into the cart and continues strolling. Changbin grabs what he actually came for and circles back around, finding Seungmin standing in front of the freezer doors, peering inside.
“Am I allowed to get frozen dumplings?” Seungmin asks without looking at him.
“I’m not your dad. You can get what you want.”
Seungmin reaches into the freezer, grabbing what he wants. “Shame. If you were my daddy, I’d probably listen more.”
Changbin blinks. “What?”
But Seungmin is already walking away, his neutral expression still resting on his face. As if he didn’t just imply what Changbin is sure he did. And if Changbin has to take a few moments to collect himself before following, well, nobody else has to know.
They continue through the store, and Seungmin seems to have gotten everything he wanted. Changbin picks up essentials for the apartment while Seungmin makes a sport of slowing them down—debating which brand of cereal is the best, and why instant coffee is a crime.
“I’m just saying.” Seungmin is standing in the middle of the aisle, holding two boxes of nearly identical cornflakes. “This one might taste sweeter, but this one has a better crunch-to-sog ratio. That matters.”
“That requires a five minute discussion?”
“It’s an important decision.”
“It’s cereal.”
Seungmin ends up throwing both into the cart. “I need options.”
Changbin rolls his eyes and heads to the checkout.
They pay, split the bags evenly, though Changbin grabs the heavier ones, and step back out in the suffocating summer heat. The walk home is silent, fueled by the need to get back inside, and the weight of the bags; the warmth of the day stretches it out. He probably shouldn’t have pushed himself so much earlier.
Seungmin doesn’t complain, though. If anything, he looks annoyingly content.
“Glad you came along?” Changbin asks.
Seungmin shrugs. “It’s good to get to know the area. And kind of funny to learn that you shop like my dad.”
“I-I’m not your dad—”
“Yeeeah,” Seungmin sighs, dragging out the word. “Tragic, really.”
By the time they reach the apartment, Changbin is ready to sit down and not move for at least three hours. Seungmin unlocks the door with the spare key and kicks it open with the toe of his shoe. Changbin follows close behind, setting the bags on the counter just in time to catch Seungmin tugging open the freezer door, presumably trying to find a spot for his dumplings.
“Why do you have so many ice cube trays?”
“They’re for smoothies,” Changbin says, already reaching for the fridge to start sorting the rest of the groceries.
“I feel like I’ve moved in with someone who preps weeks of meals for fun.”
“I do.”
Seungmin pauses, then grins to himself. “Of course you do.”
He leans against the counter for a while, watching as Changbin packs everything away.
“So,” he says casually. “What’s on the agenda for the rest of today? Do you have your entire afternoon planned down to the minute?”
Changbin closes the cupboard and shrugs. “Sort of. I was gonna work on a song for a bit.”
Seungmin blinks. “A song?”
“Yeah. Got a few projects lined up ready for when school starts up.”
“You’re a music major?” Seungmin looks genuinely shocked now. He thought his mother would have told him at least a little bit about him.
“Composition,” Changbin corrects. “Mostly production and sound design. But I write and create my own songs too.”
“Huh.”
“What is it?”
“Nothing. Just didn’t think you were the artsy type.”
“Why? Because I’m so organised?”
“Well, yeah.”
Changbin huffs. “Yeah, I get that a lot, to be honest.”
Seungmin leans his hip against the counter, his fingers drumming absently on it. “I wanted to be a singer for years until I was seventeen.”
Changbin looks at him, surprised. “Really?”
Seungmin nods, and he almost looks sad. “I was kind of obsessed with it for a while. Spent hours watching performances, memorising lyrics, singing in my room like someone was gonna snatch me up and tell me I could debut.” There’s a half-smile on his face that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Why did you stop?” Changbin asks gently.
Seungmin shrugs, eyes flicking down. “Real life happened. Parents have expectations. Law school. You know how it goes.”
“I bet you’re still good,” Changbin says.
Seungmin snorts. “You don’t even know if I was ever good.”
“Maybe not. But it’s clear it still matters to you.”
That earns him a look. A quick flick of the eyes tells him Seungmin hadn’t expected that kind of response. Then he’s pushing off the counter with a scoff.
“Anyway,” he says, straightening up. “I’m gonna go shove my nose in a book now.”
Changbin doesn’t say anything. It’s clear that something about the conversation unexpectedly affected him. And for the first time since he met him, Changbin finds himself wondering about all the things he doesn’t know about him yet.
⋆☀︎｡
He doesn’t see Seungmin for the rest of the day.
He hears him, though—faint footsteps in the hallway, the click of the bathroom door. But by the time he gets up to investigate, he’s already back in his room. It’s like he’s mastered the art of disappearing whenever he’s nearby.
It’s weird.
Changbin isn’t worried , exactly. People need space. He gets that more than anyone. He spends most of his afternoons at his desk, headphones on, layering tracks and refining his demos. But every so often, his mind drifts to the way Seungmin had looked earlier when he talked about singing. That little crease between his brows. The smile that wasn’t really a smile.
When he wakes up the next morning, the silence is still there. No clattering from the kitchen. No half-sarcastic remarks following him around. Nothing.
By noon, Changbin’s halfway through folding a load of laundry when Seungmin finally emerges.
And of course, of course , Changbin has been worrying about him, but instead he comes out dressed like that .
His legs are bare and impossibly long beneath the hem of those shorts that barely qualify as clothing. The oversized baseball shirt he’s wearing swallows the rest of him, hanging open at the collar, the sleeves halfway down his elbows, and the hem almost covering the shorts completely.
He stares for just a second. Maybe two.
Seungmin doesn’t seem to notice—or maybe does, because he walks in casually, as if this isn’t some kind of visual ambush. His hair still messy, his expression sleepy, and he yawns into the crook of one arm like he hasn’t just spent the last twenty-four hours in self-imposed solitude.
“Morning,” he mumbles.
“It’s noon.”
“Details,” Seungmin replies, brushing past him to grab a cereal box. He leans against the kitchen bench casually, one foot crossing over the other—just enough to draw attention to the curve of his thigh, the dip behind his knee.
Changbin swallows and turns back to his laundry. “Feeling social again?”
“I was never not social. You just talk too much.”
“I didn’t say a single word to you.”
Seungmin sticks out his tongue, refusing to rise to the comment.
Instead, he opens a cupboard, grabs a bowl and pours his cereal into it without sparing him a glance. Changbin watches out of the corner of his eye, trying and failing not to notice the way he shifts his weight from one leg to the other, his calves flexing, the hem of his shorts riding just a little higher.
He then bends slightly, and unnecessarily, to get a spoon from the drawer, then stretches up again to reach something from the top shelf. His back arches just slightly with the motion, and this is the point he should look away, should focus on folding his shirts, keeping his breathing even, pretending he’s not in a trance.
But then Seungmin stretches even higher, pushing up on his toes as his shirt slides up his back, and the already-short shorts ride up just enough to reveal the subtle curve of the crease beneath his ass cheek.
Changbin’s grip tightens.
Rip!
There’s a soft rip as the fabric of the t-shirt in his hand gives out, the seam splitting right along the shoulder.
He stares down at it, dumbfounded.
Behind him, Seungmin finally looks over, now sitting on a stool. “You okay over there?”
Changbin holds up the shirt. “Yeah. Just um… yeah.”
“Hm, maybe your biceps are too big for domestic life,” Seungmin muses, chewing on his cereal. He leans back, lifting one leg to rest a bare foot on the lowest rung of the stool, the new angle stretching the already-tight fabric over his thigh. His other leg swings absently, toes brushing against the kitchen tiles.
He’s still not directly looking at Changbin, but everything about him tells him he knows .
“Keep going. Don’t let me distract you,” Seungmin says lightly.
Changbin sighs. Loudly. Defeated.
He scoops up the rest of the unfolded laundry in both arms. “I’m finishing this in my room.”
Seungmin doesn’t even blink. “Suit yourself.”
Changbin doesn’t look back. He keeps his eyes firmly ahead as he marches down the hallway, slamming his bedroom door shut behind him with a little more force than necessary.
He drops the bundle on his bed and exhales slowly, rubbing a hand over his face.
It’s going to be a long summer.
⋆☀︎｡
The next two days slip by surprisingly quietly after that.
Mostly.
He finds his rhythm again—mornings either working out at home, or at the gym, afternoons on his laptop, evenings scrolling mindlessly while Seungmin mutters to himself in his room about liability clauses or something like that.
But Monday comes fast and hard, and hits him like a brick.
Changbin’s in the kitchen, mid-sip of his shake, when he hears footsteps behind him—crisper than usual.
There is Seungmin, and Changbin almost combusts.
The shake goes down wrong. He coughs violently, slamming the bottle onto the counter as his eyes water and his throat burns.
“Fuck,” he gasps, wiping his mouth.
Seungmin raises a brow, slipping his watch onto his wrist. “You okay?”
No. Absolutely not.
Because he’s standing there in a navy-blue suit that fits him like it was made for him, tailored, precise, cinched just right at the waist, the sleeves rolled just enough to show his delicate wrists and the glint of his watch. His tie is loose still, and his hair is parted neatly, not a strand out of place.
It’s not the same lethargic guy who wears baggy shirts and tiny shorts. It’s someone else entirely. Polished, calm and utterly dangerous.
Changbin forces himself to get his shit together. To act normal. “You—uh. You look good.”
Seungmin smiles faintly. “Don’t sound so surprised.”
“I’m not. I just wasn’t expecting… that.”
Seungmin glances down at himself like he had forgotten what he is wearing. “Well, first impressions are really important in this field.”
“Right. Sure. Yeah.” Changbin clears his throat. “You’ll make a good one. Hope you have a great first day.”
“Thanks,” Seungmin grins, slinging his bag over one shoulder and turning towards the door. “Don’t wait up. I’ll probably be home late most nights now.”
Changbin watches him leave in stunned silence, his heart still trying to remember how to beat properly.
As soon as the front door clicks shut, Changbin drops onto the nearest chair and scrubs a hand down his face before reaching for his phone.
He opens his group chat with Jisung and Felix.
Changbin: Are you guys free today
Jisung: Uh oh
What did he do now
Felix: What’s up, binnie? What happened?
Changbin: he wore a suit
Like a full tailored suit
It was so fucking tight
Jisung: Oh no
Oh NO
You can’t resist a pretty boy in a suit
Felix: LMAOOO
U okay???
Changbin: Hell no
He walked in all suave and my life flashed before my eyes
Jisung: do you think he knew what he was doing?
Or was it one of those accidental thirst traps I throw at Minho all the time
Changbin: it was as accidental as yours, you brat
Felix: I’m free after 2, want us to come over?
Changbin: Please
Bring snacks and alcohol
I need to give you guys a full debrief and may possibly need an exorcism
Jisung: oh no, binnie is being haunted by a sexy ghost
Changbin: Not helping
He sets his phone down with a sigh and prays his friends can help him get over whatever it is he is feeling.
At 2:30 sharp, they arrive.
Changbin opens the door to find Felix and Jisung on the other side, and behind them stands Minho, arms crossed and gaze unreadable as always.
“...Minho?” Changbin blinks. Now, don’t get him wrong; he likes Minho. But Minho isn’t one of his best friends, and today was supposed to be for venting.
Jisung brushes past him like he owns the place. “Channie sexiled him. We couldn’t just leave him wandering the streets.”
Felix shoots an apologetic smile. “He bought us alcohol.”
Minho steps in last. “You’re lucky I even let Jisungie come here after you tried to get him to look at your chode.”
Changbin nearly chokes on air, remembering the exchange of texts between the trio previously. “That is not what happened.”
Felix snorts behind him, clearly entertained.
“Are you calling my Jisungie a liar?” Minho questions, and Changbin really can’t tell if he’s being fucked with or not.
Changbin lifts both hands, palms out. “I’m saying your Jisungie has a very creative imagination and an evil sense of humour.”
Jisung beams from the couch, already curled up with a throw pillow. “He got me there.”
Minho doesn’t break eye contact as he slides off his shoes. “Just don’t do it again, or the chode gets it.”
Changbin winces. Felix walks by with a bag of snacks. “I think we have all grown far too comfortable with the word ‘chode’. Get your chode out of our faces Binnie.”
Changbin groans. “I invited you here for support. Not verbal abuse.”
“Oh, we are very supportive,” Jisung chirps up. “We support your downward spiral completely.” He spreads his legs in a way that seems suspiciously deliberate, and a second later, Minho drops right into his lap.
“You two better behave in my apartment. You will not have sex in here before I do.”
“Why? Saving yourself for your little lawyer?” Felix teases.
Changbin glares. “I invite my friends over, and this is how you treat me?”
Felix grins, not regretting a thing. “You love us just the way we are.”
Minho shifts slightly in Jisung’s lap, legs stretched out like he owns the place. “So, is this the part where you tell us again how tight his suit was?”
“I’m not telling you anything with you basically grinding on each other on my couch,” Changbin mutters.
“This is not grinding,” Jisung says, tightening his arms around Minho’s waist. “This is just what true love looks like. Sorry you’re bitter and old.”
“Baby, I’m older than he is,” Minho pouts.
“Being old is a vibe, nothing to do with age. Sorry, kitty,” Jisung apologises with a kiss to his nose.
Changbin coughs loudly. “Side by side, or no story.”
“Fine,” Jisung huffs, shrugging Minho off his lap.
Felix, on the other hand, is curled up on the floor with his back against the sofa, with an array of fizzy drinks surrounding him. “This is the most entertained I’ve been all week.”
“You’ve been playing League all week,” Jisung points out.
“You think that’s fun for me?” Felix gawks, looking genuinely offended that Jisung would suggest such a thing.
Jisung looks equally as confused as Changbin feels. “Why else would you play it?”
“You wouldn’t get it,” Felix says, rolling his eyes.
“Guys?” Changbin says, trying to remind them why they are all there. “Can I talk now?”
The rest of them nod, and Changbin moves to sit in the armchair.
“Alright,” Changbin says, leaning forward, arms resting on his knees. “It’s been non-stop. Since day one. He’s just… everywhere . Wandering around half-dressed, taking over the place like it’s his , stretching over everything like a lazy cat—”
“Like Minho,” Felix mutters under his breath.
Minho lifts a brow but doesn’t object.
“And he doesn’t even seem like he knows what he’s doing sometimes,” Changbin continues, waving a hand. “Like the other day, he reached up for something in the tiniest shorts you’ve ever seen, and they rode up and I—” Changbin takes a breath. “I ripped my laundry.”
Felix chokes on his drink. “You did what ?”
Changbin glares at him. “In my defence, it was old!”
“Sure it was,” Minho says dryly. “Spontaneous textile destruction happens to us all.”
“I’m serious,” Changbin groans. “I was just folding my laundry and he just—yeah.”
Jisung wheezes, laughing into Minho’s shoulder. “You need holy water.”
Felix wipes a tear from his eye. “No, he needs to get laid.”
Minho hums. “So to sum it up. You have a thing for your new roommate.”
“I do not have a thing for him,” Changbin protests.
“His ass literally made you rip a shirt,” Minho repeats.
Changbin chooses to ignore that.
Jisung leans forward. “What did he do after that?”
“ Nothing! ” Changbin exclaims. “He just kept talking like nothing happened. Like it’s normal to walk around flashing your ass crease.”
“It is for Minho,” Jisung says casually, looking up at his boyfriend like he hung the stars.
“Did not need to know that,” Changbin sighs. He also chooses to forget he was the biggest advocate of their relationship when they were dancing around each other.
Felix cackles. “I reckon he knows what he’s doing.”
That shuts Changbin up for a second.
He thinks about it. About the way Seungmin seems to be purposeful in everything he does. “...I don’t know,” he admits, finally. “That’s the worst part. He either has no idea, or he’s trying to kill me.”
Minho uncaps a bottle of soju. “Either way, you’re doomed”
They drop it for a while, now that the soju and beer have come out. Someone, probably Jisung, throws on his favourite trashy dating show where no one seems to know where they are or what the rules are. Jisung is invested, shouting at the screen, and Felix starts assigning each of them a wild back story if they were to ever join the show (Minho would be the one to leave three episodes in for mysterious reasons), and for a while, Changbin forgets about the ghost of Seungmin’s ass.
By evening, they’re all in different states of comfort. Jisung is half asleep with his head on Minho’s lap as Minho scrolls his phone and sips on soju. Felix is upside-down on the couch, braiding his own hair, and Changbin is curled up in his armchair, warm and tipsy, and starting to think maybe he can survive the summer after all.
Then Felix has to ruin it.
“You know I was serious about you needing to get laid, right?” He says, correcting himself on the couch.
Changbin groans into his hands. “Please don’t start this again.”
“No, really,” Felix says, looking earnest. “It’s been, what? Seven months since you-know-who? You’re pent up. You’re spiralling.”
“He has a point,” Jisung mumbles. “You’ve been weirdly tense. Like, even for you.”
“I have no—”
“Bin,” Minho cuts in smoothly. “I have a couple of dancer friends who would kill to get a piece of that body. You’d be drowning in attention.”
Changbin blinks. “You’re trying to set me up?”
“I’m trying to stop you acting like a Victorian gentlemen when someone flashes an ankle in your vicinity.”
“I do not —”
“Bin,” Minho says firmly, “You ripped your laundry… I think it’s safe to say the bar is low. You need release. My dance partner, Hyunjin, he’s single, and has absolutely no morals, he would probably let you do anything to him.”
Changbin’s brows pinch. “Hwang Hyunjin?” He’s heard of him, but they’ve never met.
“Mhm,” Felix confirms. “He’s so hot. Tall. Flexible. Legs for days. That mouth of his—” Felix suddenly stiffens where he’s sitting, eyes widening. “Uh—”
Changbin turns, heart dropping.
It must be later in the day than he realised, because there stands Seungmin in the doorway, looking as put together as he did when he left.
“Hi,” Seungmin says easily. “Didn’t know we were hosting.”
Changbin makes a strangled noise. “I—yeah. They just—uh—”
Seungmin takes a step in and offers a nod to them. “I’m Seungmin, by the way. You must be Changbin’s friends.”
Felix smiles sheepishly. “That’s us.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you. Sorry if I interrupted you guys.”
Jisung waves from the couch, his eyes half-lidded. “We were just talking about Binnie being pent up and needing to get laid.”
Silence follows.
Absolutely crushing silence.
Jisung blinks, then startles fully awake. “Wait. Shit.”
Felix just stares at Seungmin with his jaw dropped; Minho can’t contain his laughter, and Changbin wants the ground to swallow him.
Seungmin’s mouth twitches. “Wow. That’s a stronger opener.”
Changbin feels his cheeks burning red. “I’m so sorry. They’re not usually this—”
“Obsessed with your sex life?” Seungmin finishes helpfully.
“You mean the lack of,” Minho supplies.
Seungmin chuckles and toes off his shoes. “Or that.”
Changbin groans internally.
“Well. I’m gonna shower,” he says. “Don’t have too much fun while I’m gone.”
And with that, he disappears down the hall, the bathroom door clicking shut behind him.
The silence lasts for maybe two seconds.
Then all hell breaks loose.
“ Oh my god, ” Jisung hisses. “Binnie, he is exactly your type.”
Felix is wide-eyed. “I see why you’re struggling so much.”
Minho doesn’t even try to be subtle. “Yeah, no wonder you’re spiralling. It’s like someone took all of the things you love in men and created him just for you.”
“I hate all of you,” Changbin mutters, hiding behind his hands. “So much.”
“He was smirking ,” Jisung continues, still whispering like Seungmin might hear them from the shower. “He knows , dude. He knows and he’s playing you.”
Felix waddles over to sit down on Changbin’s knee, patting his thigh. “You’re screwed.”
“Literally soon, if you’re lucky,” Minho adds. “Hyunjin will be so disappointed.”
Changbin shrugs it off and goes back to zoning out.
Felix stays perched on Changbin’s lap, one leg curled beneath him, the other draped across his knees and the arm of the chair. His fingers trail along Changbin’s bicep absent-mindedly, tapping patterns, tracing his veins, squeezing gently now and then like he’s testing the firmness.
It’s not weird between them. Felix has always been like this—tactile, affectionate, shamelessly flirty when the mood strikes. But it usually only means one of two things: either he’s feeling playful, or he’s trying to silence the voice in his head that makes him feel like he isn’t enough.
Changbin knows it well. Felix has told him all about it, about what he needed. Some nights he used to crawl into bed next to him without saying a word, only needing to feel wanted by someone who wouldn’t make a big deal out of it.
They never told Jisung. There wasn’t anything to tell, really. No romance, no secrets. Just comfort exchanged in the dark—tender hands, soft moans and bruises that never meant anything more than a reminder of what they did.
So now, when Felix leans into him, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve, Changbin doesn’t push him off.
On the other sofa, Minho has ended up back in Jisung’s lap, whispering things Changbin doesn’t want to hear and laughing breathlessly between kisses.
Felix doesn’t pay them any mind. His focus is entirely on Changbin now—fingers still skimming his muscles.
“You good?” Changbin murmurs under his breath, his chin tilted to Felix’s ears so that he can hear him
Felix nods slowly, then tips his head to the side until it rests against his shoulder.
“I just miss you sometimes. Miss it ,” he whispers.
Changbin doesn’t have to ask what it is.
He turns his hand palm-up between them, letting Felix slide his fingers into his, lacing them without a word.
“I’m right here,” Changbin says softly.
Felix hums. “I know. It’s just, everything’s been too loud lately. You know?”
Felix shifts again, a subtle move—just enough for his thigh to press a little firmer into Changbin’s. His hand tightens where it holds his, and he breathes in deep like he’s working up to something. Then kisses just behind Changbin’s ear, his breath hot and lingering.
“Do you think we can do it tonight?”
Changbin closes his eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the way the kiss affects him. The way his deep voice sounds desperate.
“You know we made a rule, Lixie,” Changbin says quietly. “Not when we’ve been drinking.”
Felix nods, but his voice doesn’t soften. If anything, it sharpens.
“I know the rule,” he murmurs. Felix presses closer, his forehead brushing Changbin’s temple. “You want it, too. You need it just as much as I do. I can feel it.”
He kisses the corner of his jaw, the side hidden from the others. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Changbin doesn’t answer.
He can’t.
Because Felix isn’t wrong.
The past week has been hell, and he’s incredibly pent up. Felix’s hands are familiar; it would be so easy to just give in.
“Lix,” he breathes. “We can’t—”
Felix’s lips hover near Changbin’s skin, warm and pleading, but before he can go further again, a loud, deliberate cough cuts through the air.
Both of them jolt.
Seungmin stands a few steps away with a towel around his neck, one brow raised in unmistakable judgment. And he’s wearing those goddamn shorts again.
“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” he says dryly.
Changbin freezes, his hand still resting on Felix’s waist. Felix straightens slowly but doesn’t move far.
On the sofa, Minho and Jisung are still tangled up together, completely oblivious to the fact that they’ve now got an audience. Jisung makes a soft noise, Minho hushes him with a kiss, and it’s clear they’re not stopping anytime soon.
Seungmin glances at them, unimpressed, then back at Changbin and Felix. “Seriously. You should’ve warned me if you were going to have an orgy.”
Changbin opens his mouth to respond, but the words die on his tongue.
Seunmin is looking at Felix.
At his hand.
And then at Changbin.
Changbin shifts under Felix’s weight, suddenly unsure of what’s happening. “We weren’t…” he starts, voice trailing off, unsure of why he feels the need to explain himself.
Seungmin raises a brow. “Weren’t what?”
That’s when Felix gets a devious expression on his face. “Yeah, Binnie? That’s not what I thought.”
Changbin shoots him a pleading look. “Don’t.”
But Felix just smiles, toothy and mischievous, and leans in like he’s going to whisper something filthy in his ear.
Seungmin doesn’t say anything else. He just watches them for a beat longer with an unreadable expression on his face. So much so that it makes Changbin’s stomach tighten.
Then, cool as ever, he turns and walks down the hall toward his room. “You guys have fun then,” he says over his shoulder. “Don’t be loud.”
The door shuts with a loud thud.
And that should be that.
Except Felix shifts around just enough to say, “Oh my god. He’s jealous.”
Changbin scoffs. “There’s no way.”
Felix tilts his head, eyes sparkling. “Are you sure? Because that dig wasn’t casual, Binnie. That was a man scorned.”
Changbin runs a hand through his hair, letting his head fall back against the couch. “He’s probably just annoyed. I mean, it is kind of a weird vibe here. And, fuck, I didn’t ask how his first day was.”
Felix’s expression softens at that, the teasing fading just a little. “You’ve been a little distracted.”
Changbin lets out a slow breath, staring up at the ceiling. “Fuck, I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Felix hums, thoughtful. “Let me stay over?”
Changbin glances at him, brow furrowed. “Lix—”
“No sex,” Felix says quickly, holding up a hand. “Just cuddles. I just wanna see how he reacts when I leave your room in the morning.”
“Seriously?”
“Come on, test the jealousy theory with me,” Felix says, wiggling his eyebrows. “For science.”
Changbin stares at him, weighing up the consequences.
“Fine,” he sighs. “But just for science. And absolutely no sex.”
“Promise,” Felix beams.
With the plan decided, Changbin decides it’s time to get Minho and Jisung out of the apartment. Felix hops off his lap, and Changbin stands, grabbing a cushion and throwing it straight at Jisung’s head.
Minho lifts his head. “Huh? What?”
“Get a room,” Changbin groans. “Or at least get off my couch before I have to burn it.”
Jisung blinks like he’s just now remembering where they are. “Oh. Right.”
They’re both flushed and tousled, clearly still riding the high of being tangled up in each other. Minho’s shirt is half-untucked, and his hand is dangerously close to the waistband of Jisung’s pants.
“Come on,” Changbin says, rubbing at his temples. “I’m begging.”
Minho groans dramatically, flopping off Jisung’s knee. “You’re no fun.”
Jisung lets out a sleepy laugh, reaching for Minho’s hand. “Fine. We’ll go. Lixie, you owe me cuddles later.”
“Of course, baby,” Felix blows a kiss at him as they stumble to the door.
Once they’re gone, the pair of them head to bed, and Felix borrows an oversized shirt to sleep in. When they’re under the covers, Felix curls into him without asking, tucking his head under his chin. Changbin’s arms wrap around him instinctively.
Changbin can’t sleep. His mind is too full. Of the conversation earlier. Of how mysterious Seungmin is.
Eventually, Felix’s breathing evens out, and only then does Changbin let himself drift off.
⋆☀︎｡
Changbin wakes to an empty bed.
The spot beside him is cold, and Felix is gone. The bedroom door is open, light leaking in the hallway, and voices float in from the kitchen.
He rubs the sleep from his eyes and stumbles out, padding barefoot down the hall.
And freezes.
Felix is sitting on the kitchen counter, legs swinging, bare except for the oversized shirt Changbin lent him the night before. The hem rides up high on his thighs, his hair is a mess, and his cheeks are still rosy.
And across from him—standing rigidly in a charcoal suit, not a hair out of place—is Seungmin.
His jaw is tight, and his fingers twitch by his side as he stares at the counter. At Felix.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” Felix says, noticing Changbin and flashing a bright smile at him. “Hope we didn’t wake you.”
Seungmin also turns toward him, eyes cool. “Morning,” he says shortly. His tone is polite and perfectly neutral. Too neutral.
“You missed coffee,” Felix chirps, spinning a mug between his palms. “Minnie here makes it strong.”
Seungmin just stands there, sipping his coffee, staring off into the distance somewhere.
Felix stretches, arms up over his head, shirt pulling high enough to show a teasing sliver of skin. “Might need another cup, though. Someone really wore me out last night.”
The silence that follows is sharp .
Changbin stares at Felix like he’s grown a second head. “ Lix —”
Seungmin sets his mug down a little too hard. “Real subtle,” he says, cutting over them.
Felix just hums innocently.
“I’m heading to work,” Seungmin adds, stepping past them without a glance, but there’s a heat in his neck now, pink rising behind his ears.
“Have a good day!” Felix says, too sweetly.
Seungmin gives him a tight smile, nothing more. Then, before Changbin can even think of anything to say, he’s out the door.
Felix lets out a breath. “Wow. He’s a tough one to read.”
Changbin stays silent, stunned.
Then Felix adds. “I really don’t think he liked seeing me in your shirt.”
“I don’t think he cares. We barely know each other,” Changbin explains.
Felix scoffs. “Come on. You know, people can be attracted to each other at first sight, right? Just like you were to him. Be honest with yourself, Binnie.”
“I—I guess…”
“You want him, right?” Felix asks. “Or you just gonna keep pretending you don’t?”
“What if it makes the rest of the summer awkward?” Changbin mutters.
Felix sighs, softer now. “Yeah, it might. But isn’t it already kinda awkward?”
Changbin doesn’t respond.
He nudges him again, this time with his foot. “Look, worst case? He shuts you down, and you go back to pretending you’re not checking him out. But best case? He wants you, too, and you spend the whole summer getting laid.”
Changbin exhales. “You make it sound so simple.”
Felix grins. “It is. You’re just a coward.”
“Wow, thank you.”
“Anytime,” Felix wiggles his eyebrows, already getting up from the counter. “Now, make sure to tell him how hot he looks in that stupid suit before someone else beats you to it.”
⋆☀︎｡
Changbin hears the front door open just after six. It’s quiet—no slam, no greeting, just the soft rustle of keys.
He peeks out from his bedroom, expecting… something. But Seungmin just walks past him, expression unreadable, and heads straight to his room without a word.
Not even a glance.
He closes his door, softly clicking it into place and sealing himself in.
Changbin stands there, his heart in his throat.
Okay.
That’s… new.
Usually, he would at least say hi. Or ask about his day. But this? This is something else.
Changbin stands there for a long moment, blinking at his closed door.
That’s it, he thinks. That’s all he’s going to get.
So, he shuts his door and tells himself not to care. He tries to focus on some personal projects, but it’s tough.
Hours pass, and he’s only made minimal progress.
It’s some time after nine when he hears Seungmin’s door creak open again. Footsteps pad lightly down the hall. Then, the front door opens again, followed by his soft voice greeting someone outside.
Then there is a voice he doesn't recognise .
He can’t make out the words, but it’s clear he’s comfortable with whoever he is with. Not cold and distant like he’s been with Changbin today.
A moment later, they’re in his room. The door shuts, but not before Changbin catches a burst of giggles. Low voices follow. Warm and affectionate in a way that makes it clear they’re familiar. Close.
He hears a thud, like someone collapsing onto the mattress. Then more laughter.
Time drags. Ten o’clock comes and goes. Then eleven. Then midnight. And still, the soft murmur of voices carries through the thin apartment walls like a cruel reminder that Changbin has clearly lost his shot.
He figures he’ll try to sleep and tucks himself under his duvet, turning onto his side and pressing the pillow against his ears.
It doesn’t help.
He swears he hears Seungmin say, “ You know that tickles ,” and the other voice responds with, “ That’s why I do it .”
He squeezes his eyes shut, willing sleep to take him.
But all he can hear is Seungmin laughing softly in a way he’s never heard.
Then there’s a shuffle. A creak of mattress springs.
Then a gasp, and a low, breathy moan.
Changbin’s heart stutters in his chest.
He doesn’t mean to listen. He doesn’t want to. But now his body has gone still, ears tuned to every sound like they’re wired into the wall.
Another rustle. A hitch in breath. Then he hears the stranger shushing him, “ Quiet, Minnie. Don’t want your roommate to hear. ”
There’s another giggle, and then the unmistakable sound of lips meeting skin.
The sounds aren’t loud, not really. But they’re clear.
The soft exhale when Seungmin’s breath hitches. The ruffle of the sheets. A whispered, “ Fuck, you’re so obedient like this. ”
He should put his headphones on. Block out the noise. But a sick, twisted part of him is too curious. Too intrigued by the way Seungmin sounds in the throes of pleasure.
He’s never heard him like this before—never imagined he could sound like this. So responsive. The low, breathy moans slipping past his lips sound nothing like the sharp, dry Seungmin he has come to know over the past week.
Changbin swears under his breath and flips onto his stomach, dragging the duvet off entirely. His skin feels too hot, like the heat’s crawling up from inside him—tight in his chest, tense in his gut, and worse, in his cock.
He can still hear them. Muffled, but clear enough.
Another creak of the bedframe. A soft, breathy gasp—Seungmin’s. Followed by the other voice, “ You like that, huh? Such a good fucking puppy .” Puppy? That’s what he likes to be called?
And then—god help him—a whine.
Changbin feels his whole body tense, the sound slicing through him like a hot blade. He hadn’t known Seungmin could even make a sound like that, and he can’t un-feel the way it sparks low in his stomach.
He shifts.
Just a small movement. Hips pressing down into the mattress. But the pressure is there, sudden and jarring, the way the mattress presses back into him through the thin fabric of his boxers. It catches him off guard, how good it feels.
His fingers tighten on the sheets. He presses down again, just once. Then again. Slow, testing. Like if he moves carefully enough, he can pretend he’s not doing it.
He shouldn’t be. Shouldn’t be listening. Shouldn’t be hard right now, with his cock trapped between his body and the mattress, leaking into his underwear like he’s a desperate virgin again. But the sounds keep coming and every one of them makes his dick twitch.
He thinks he hears Seungmin say, “ Please ,” just that, small and trembling, and Changbin grinds down harder, his breath catching.
His body is thrumming. Every muscle tense, his breath unsteady, his skin prickling.
He squeezes his eyes shut, willing himself to stop. Willing himself to just grab his headphones and shut it out.
But then there’s a thud. A sharp inhale. Then, a breathless, choked sound that definitely comes from Seungmin, and it’s that sound that breaks the last part of his resolve.
Changbin growls into the mattress and reaches down. His hand moves without thought, shoving his boxers down just enough to free his aching cock. Cool air hits his skin, and he hisses, the sudden exposure shocking his system ever so slightly, enough to make him think how wrong this is.
But his cock is aching too much, flushed and damp at the tip, and his body is done pretending he doesn’t want.
His fingers wrap around himself before he can think better of it, and his whole body jolts at the contact. It’s too much, too fast, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t. He moves again, rutting into his fist with rough, clumsy strokes, precum soaking his palm.
The sounds keep coming, the faint creak of the bedsprings and the unmistakable rhythm of movement, and Changbin matches it without meaning to, his breath shorter, harsher, caught between shame and unbearable desire. His fist tightens around himself as the bed creaks faster in the next room, and then a loud, broken moan tears through the wall. It’s high and wrecked, and it’s clear Seungmin has reached his high.
Changbin groans through his teeth as his body locks, pleasure seizing him all at once. His climax hits like a wave crashing against a cliff, overwhelming and hot, spilling over his knuckles as he buries his face into his pillow to muffle the noise. His legs go weak, his whole body jerking until he’s spent, gasping for breath in the dark.
The echo of Seungmin’s moans still lingers in his ears.
Then he hears shuffling from the other room. Bare feet against floorboards. The sound of the door opening, and then the click of the bathroom door shutting into place.
He wonders if they heard him the way he heard them,
His stomach flips. There’s no way, right?
From the bathroom, running water starts up, and the sound of voices is muffled.
They must be cleaning up.
He swears under his breath and decides he can’t go on like this.
“Get over it,” he mutters to himself.
It’s fair to say that Changbin gets barely any sleep.
When he wakes up in the morning, he’s groggy and his head pounds. He drags himself out of bed and heads toward the bathroom, but pauses at the open door of Seungmin’s room.
Seungmin is sprawled face-down on the bed, a tangle of sheets barely clinging to his hips. One leg is bent up at the knee, shorts ridden high on his thigh, shirt tucked up around his waist. He looks peaceful.
Changbin knows he should keep walking.
Instead, he lingers.
His gaze traces the curve of Seungmin’s calf, the dip of his back, the way the early morning light makes the shadows fall just right on his lithe shape. He swallows hard, guilt crawling up the back of his throat.
And that’s when the bathroom door clicks open.
A man steps out. Shirtless, damp hair, a towel around his neck, and nothing but a pair of boxers on his hips. He halts when he sees Changbin standing in the hallway.
There’s silence, and then the man offers a friendly smile, his fox-like eyes crinkling. “Morning,” he says, his voice still husky with sleep.
The sound breaks the quiet like a stone skipping on water.
Changbin opens his mouth to respond, but movement from the bedroom draws their attention.
Seungmin shifts with a groan, one arm reaching blindly to pull the covers higher. Then he blinks groggily, eyes just barely open, and props himself up on his elbows.
“‘S going on?” he mutters, voice hoarse.
“Sorry, baby,” the stranger interrupts, before walking back in the room. “Just went for a shower. Wanna get dressed and go out for breakfast? You have Wednesdays off right?”
Changbin expects an easy yes, expects the same enthusiasm he had last night.
But instead, Seungmin exhales slowly and shifts onto his back, staring at the ceiling with that same bored expression he usually has.
“No, Innie,” he says flatly. “Come on, don’t do this again.”
Changbin should probably leave at this point, but he doesn’t.
“Oh,” the guy—Innie—says after a pause. There’s a flash of hurt on his face, and the disappointment in his voice is palpable. “I just thought… after last night…”
Seungmin cuts him off without looking. “Yes. That was last night.”
Innie blinks, caught off guard. “Right,” he says, and his voice is smaller now. “Yeah. Sure. Don’t know why I thought it'd be different this time..”
He turns and starts gathering his things, and Seungmin remains passive, his eyes closed as he lays on his back.
Eventually, Innie steps out of the room, head down, ears red, and Changbin could swear he was about to cry.
Damn.
The front door echoes loudly through the apartment as he slams it behind him.
“That was kind of a dick move,” Changbin mutters.
Seungmin exhales sharply through his nose.
“He knew what it was,” he says.
Changbin just shakes his head and turns to leave, but before he can, Seungmin chimes up again,
“Sorry if we were too loud last night.” There’s a teasing lilt to it, and Changbin isn’t sure exactly why. He turns to him and sees there’s an equally mischievous expression on his face, like he wanted Changbin to know, and now he’s confirming it, just in case he didn’t hear them.
It was on purpose.
Seungmin wanted him to hear it all, because like Felix said, he’d been jealous.
Changbin forces a tight laugh, amused by his epiphany. “It’s okay.” He steps into the room now and walks slowly to the side of the bed, placing two fingers under Seungmin’s chin. “But next time, be a good puppy and be quiet.”
Seungmin’s smug little smirk falters.
His eyes widen and his brows twitch upward as if he’s not sure he heard it right. For once, he’s silent—no sharp retort, no dry comment. He just blinks up at Changbin with parted lips and a flush blooming across his cheeks.
That reaction alone is more satisfying than anything Changbin could have planned.
He smiles, then draws back his hand, turning on his heel without another word.
The silence behind him is thick, and he doesn’t need to look back to know Seungmin is still watching him.
Game on .
⋆☀︎｡
The next three weeks are hell. Beautiful, torturous hell.
Seungmin doesn’t let up. In fact, if anything, he only gets worse. And now Changbin knows it’s on purpose.
It starts small. Subtle.
The occasional stretch in the living room, arms high above his head, shirt riding up to reveal his soft stomach.
And then it escalates.
He walks around the apartment in boxers and a loose tank top, the fabric always falling off one shoulder. He sprawls on the couch in the most compromising ways, knees apart, head tilted back, his sharp collarbones on full display. One night, Changbin returns from a run to find Seungmin asleep on the sofa, half-covered by a thin blanket, one leg bare and stretched out, the other tucked under him, the neck of his oversized shirt hanging open to reveal smooth skin.
And yeah, maybe Changbin stares for a bit too long.
But he’s not going down without a fight.
He retaliates.
One morning, he walks out of the shower with the towel low on his hips, still damp, hair dripping down his torso. He doesn’t say a word—just grabs his protein shake from the fridge and drinks it with his head tipped back.
Seungmin nearly drops his bowl of cereal.
Later that week, Changbin “accidentally” leaves the door cracked open when changing, leaving Seungmin to catch a glimpse of his toned back. He also starts working out in the living room more often too, choosing the tightest shorts he owns, groaning just a little more than necessary during his sets.
“Oh sorry.” He catches Seungmin watching from the hallway. “Didn’t realise you were up.”
Seungmin just blinks, but his ears are bright red, and for once, he’s speechless.
It becomes a dance.
The final straw comes on a Friday night. Just over a month since Seungmin moved in.
The teasing has escalated to almost unbearable levels, and Changbin is hanging on by a thread. He’s certain Seungmin knows it.
So when Seungmin casually calls out from the living room, “Movie night?” —Changbin says yes. He always says yes. Not because he wants to watch a stupid movie. But because he’s a masochist, apparently. And maybe because some twisted part of him wants to see just how far Seungmin is willing to push it.
He finds out quickly.
Seungmin is already curled on the couch when he comes out, remote in hand, an innocent expression on his face. Except there’s nothing innocent about what he’s wearing.
Those goddamn shorts again.
Those tiny things that ride up his thighs every time he shifts. He’s sick of them. And Seungmin’s not even pretending to be subtle tonight. He’s sitting with one leg bent up, the other dangling off the couch, head tilted toward Changbin with wide eyes and parted lips.
“Come sit.” He pats the cushion beside him.
Changbin grits his teeth and does as he’s told.
The movie starts, some mindless action that neither of them really cares about.
Seungmin drapes a throw blanket over their laps and slowly inches closer until their thighs are pressed together. His fingers brush against Changbin’s thigh, then rest there like it’s nothing. His fingers curl ever so slightly, like he’s testing the give of muscle beneath his palm.
The movie drones on. He wouldn’t be able to describe what happened if someone paid him. All he can think about is that hand. How his thumb starts to move, absently traces circles into his skin through his shorts.
Then it slides higher. Just a little. Just enough.
Changbin snaps.
His hand shoots out and grabs Seungmin’s wrist, holding it firmly in place.
“Enough,” he growls.
Seungmin’s head turns slowly, eyes wide with mock innocence, but his lips are already curling into that smug, dangerous smile.
Changbin tightens his grip slightly. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The smile transforms into a smirk, his bottom lip finding its way between his teeth.
Changbin has never known someone so infuriating, annoying, alluring, tempting.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Changbin asks, his voice steady despite the raging storm inside him. He needs to make sure they’re on the same page, that Seungmin understands what could happen if they lose control entirely.
But Seungmin only tilts his head, the smallest smirk curling his mouth. “Come on, Binnie . Don’t get shy on me now. I know you’re itching to put those muscles to good use…” His eyes drag over his body. “Or are they just cosmetic?”
Snap .
Changbin moves without thinking. One hand finds Seungmin’s waist, the other on his thigh, and he drags him into his lap, the man going easily, light and pliant, like he wanted this all along.
Seungmin barely has time to catch his breath before Changbin’s mouth crashes into his—hard and hungry, a kiss that says enough is enough . Seungmin groans against his lips, fingers clinging to Changbin’s shirt like he’s been waiting for this just as long.
Changbin’s hands roam with a strength that borders on rough, gripping his waist, pulling him closer, tighter, until there’s no space between them. Seungmin’s legs straddle his thighs, his ass digging into his growing erection. The kiss deepens, their tongues tangling, tasting each other with a fervour that leaves them breathless.
With a growl, Changbin breaks the kiss, his breath coming in short gasps. “You’ve been asking for this. Such a fucking brat,” he murmurs against Seungmin’s ear, his lips brushing the shell.
Seungmin’s response is a soft laugh. “You know I have. Now shut up and do something about it.”
He doesn’t hesitate, his hands moving to Seungmin’s shirt, tugging it off. Seungmin’s skin is warm under his touch, and he can’t believe how gorgeous his slim body is.
Seungmin’s hands find his hair, tugging gently, urging him closer. “Don’t stop now.”
He doesn’t. His hands move lower, gripping Seungmin’s bare waist, their eyes meet, and for a moment, the air feels electric, almost dangerous. Changbin’s hands slide down Seungmin’s thighs, his fingers brushing the hem of those shorts.
Seungmin’s breath catches as Changbin’s hands move. “You’ve been dying to feel my hands on you. Tell me I’m right.”
Seungmin’s lips part, his chest heaving as he nods. “ Yes ,” he admits, his voice shaky and raw.
“Good boy.” A whimper falls from the other man’s lips as Changbin’s hands grip the waistband of the shorts, tugging them down with a swift, decisive motion. Seungmin lifts his hips, helping with the removal. Changbin's eyes rake over him, taking in the sight of his bare skin, his slender waist, his long legs spread over his lap. Seungmin is a vision, his body flushed and eager, his nipples tight with arousal.
Seungmin’s hands find Changbin’s shoulders, his fingers digging in as his own hands move to his waistband, pulling down his sweats with quickness and impatience. Seungmin watches, his eyes hungry, his lips parted as the material falls to his ankles.
For a moment, they just look at each other, the air thick with anticipation. Changbin’s cock is hard, thick and heavy, jutting out from a well-trimmed patch of hair, and Seungmin’s is just as impressive, his longer, but not as thick as Changbin’s.
Changbin smirks, reaching out to take both of their cocks in his strong hand. Seungmin gasps, his head falling back as Changbin’s grip tightens, his thumb brushing the sensitive skin just below the head of Seungmin’s cock.
“ Fuck, ” Seungmin breathes, his voice hoarse and desperate. “Changbin— ”
Changbin cuts him off with a sharp stroke, his hand moving in a slow rhythm. He watches his face, savouring the way his eyes flutter closed, the way his lips part on a silent moan.
Seungmin is a brat. But he’s also a mess.
His body betrays him as he arches into his touch, his hips rocking against his hand.
“That’s it,” Changbin murmurs, his voice low and commanding.
Seungmin’s breath stutters, his body tensing as Changbin increases the pace, his hand moving faster, firmer. Their cocks slide together, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through them both. Seungmin moans, his hands tightening in Changbin’s shirt.
“ Fuck , Bin—I’m close,” he pants.
Changbin smirks, his grip tightening as he leans in, his lips brushing Seungmin’s ear. “ Not yet,” he growls. “I’m not done with you.”
Seungmin whimpers, his body trembling as Changbin reduces his speed, teasing him with slow strokes. Seungmin’s cock twitches, his pre-come leaking onto Changbin’s cock and palm, but he doesn’t let him come. Not yet. Changbin wants to draw it out, make him squirm and pay for all the teasing he’s endured since they met.
“ Please ,” Seungmin whispers, his voice breaking as his pleading eyes lock on his. “ Please, let me come .”
Changbin chuckles, his hand still as he leans back, his gaze raking over Seungmin’s flushed and desperate face. “I said not yet .”
Changbin loosens his fist, letting his own cock fall from his grasp, keeping his hand loosely around Seungmin’s. This is about the man in his lap, about pushing him to the brink and holding him there.
He moves his hand again, faster, harder, his thumb brushing the head of his cock with every pass. Seungmin moans, his head falling back, his body arching into the touch. “ Fuck, Bin. I can’t—I can’t—”
“ Yes, you can .” Changbin’s voice cuts through Seungmin’s desperation. “You’ll hold on because I said so. And when I finally let you come, you’re going to thank me for it.” Seungmin’s body trembles as he looks at Changbin, who smirks as he leans in, brushing their lips. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”
His hand moves faster, strokes firm and relentless, pushing Seungmin closer and closer to the edge. Seungmin’s moans grow louder, his body arching into Changbin’s touch, his hips rocking against his hand. “ Please—”
“ No ,” Changbin growls.
And then, just as Seungmin is about to beg again, Changbin stops.
He lets go of Seungmin’s cock, his hand moving back to his own, stroking himself slowly as he watches his desperate, flushed face. Seungmin’s breath comes in short gasps as he looks at Changbin.
“Next time,” Changbin starts, his voice firm. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk. But for now…”
He leaves the sentence hanging, his hand moving faster, his gaze locked on Seungmin’s as he strokes himself, his cock throbbing with need. Seungmin watches, his body tense, as he clearly fights the urge to touch himself.
Changbin leans forward, his lips brushing Seungmin’s ear. “You’re going to remember this moment,” he whispers. “Every time you think about touching your pretty cock, you’re going to remember how much power I have over you. And you’re going to ache for me.”
Seungmin’s body shudders, his eyes closing as he bites his lip to stifle a moan. “You’re a fucking asshole,” he chokes out, but his voice is weak, devoid of its usual sarcastic and bratty edge.
Changbin chuckles, his hand moving faster. “Maybe,” he admits. “But I think you like it.”
Seungmin whimpers again as he watches Changbin stroke himself. Changbin smirks, his hand tightening around his cock as he leans in, pressing their lips together in a slow, teasing kiss that has Seungmin shaking.
Finally, because Changbin isn’t a total monster, he takes them both in hand again. He strokes them in unison, watching as Seungmin squirms, his moans growing loud and desperate.
“ That’s it, puppy. Come for me. ” He sees Seungmin’s eyes bulge at the nickname, and his body obeys.
Seungmin’s body tenses, his cock twitching as he cries out, his release hot and messy, spilling over Changbin’s hand and their entwined cocks. Changbin follows soon after, his own release shooting onto Seungmin’s stomach.
Changbin smirks, leaning in to kiss Seungmin softly, his hand still loosely gripping their cocks. “ Next time I’ll make it even better.” His lips brush Seungmin’s, a tender contrast to the raw intensity of what they just did.
“Fucking asshole,” he murmurs, but his voice is weak and almost soft. It hints at something deeper, perhaps surrender. Finally.
Changbin chuckles, his hand moving to stroke Seungmin’s cheek. “I know you love it,” he replies, his smirk widening as he leans in for another kiss. This time, their lips meet in a slow, deep, silent acknowledgement of this new dynamic between them.
As their kiss deepens, Seungmin’s hands find their way to Changbin’s waist, pulling him closer, as if to erase any distance between them. Changbin’s clean hand wraps around him, holding him tight, their bodies pressed together, still slick with sweat and come.
Changbin pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against Seungmin’s. That's when he realises that this tension between them isn’t just sexual, he’s endeared by him. The way he’s grown addicted to his beautiful but timid singing voice in the morning, how he’s dedicated and committed to his studies, and how easily he gets under his skin. Changbin isn’t usually one to mince his words; if he feels something, he says it, if he likes someone, he tells them. He’d only held back with Seungmin because it had been such an intense and immediate attraction. But there’s no need to hold back now, not when it’s clear how he feels.
“I’d like to make you mine,” he says. He knows it’s a risk considering how he saw him react to the guy who had run out of their apartment with his tail between his legs. But Changbin feels it’s different with him; he’s sure Seungmin feels the same. That’s why he invited the guy over in the first place, right? To make him jealous. It’s all so obvious now.
For a moment, Seungmin doesn’t reply.
His breath catches just slightly—so slight that if Changbin wasn’t so close to him, he might have missed it. Then Seungmin lets out a quiet exhale, something caught between disbelief and amusement, and his arms tighten around his waist.
“You already have made me yours, dumbass.”
“Wha—” Changbin lets out a breathless laugh. “Fuck, you’ve been driving me insane since the moment you walked through that door.”
Seungmin grins. “That was the idea.”
Changbin tilts his head. “So that’s why you slept with that guy and made sure I heard? To make me jealous?”
A beat of silence. Then Seungmin shrugs, entirely unapologetic. “It worked, didn’t it?”
“It did. You know I didn’t sleep with Felix though, right?”
Seungmin’s eyes narrow just slightly. “You didn’t? Honestly, I shoved my headphones over my head and pretended it wasn’t happening.”
“No. I mean, we used to sleep together, but it was never serious, we don’t like each other any more than that," Changbin explains. “That night, we just cuddled. He could tell you were jealous, though. I wouldn’t let myself believe him.”
“You could have just asked me if I liked you,” Seungmin says, rolling his eyes affectionately.
Changbin scoffs. “Excuse me, but you brought a guy home so I could hear you moaning through the walls. I don’t think I was the only one avoiding a real conversation.”
There’s a pause and a tiny twitch of Seungmin’s mouth. “Touché.”
“So,” Seungmin says again. “You didn’t sleep with him, and I might have gone a little overboard.”
“A little?”
Seungmin rolls his eyes again. “Fine. A lot. Whatever.”
Changbin nudges him. “Maybe next time, we try something really radical and experimental. Like talking.”
Seungmin tilts his head, considering. “Hm, maybe. So what does that mean for us now? What are we calling this?”
Changbin hums. “How about we start with dating?”
“Dating…” Seungmin says, testing how the words sound. “So you’ll let me take you out tomorrow?”
“Of course,” Changbin agrees, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Now, the come on my hand has gone cold and it’s starting to get uncomfortable.”
Seungmin snorts, swatting lightly at his chest. “You really know how to ruin a moment.”
They clean up separately and say goodnight in the corridor, exchanging kisses outside Seungmin’s door. Despite what they just did, Changbin doesn’t want to rush now; he wants to do this properly, like they should have from the start. So he leaves Seungmin at his door, pretending as if he’s dropping him off at his own apartment, and they sleep separately. But tonight his heart feels light, and the tension that has been boiling between them has tempered down to a light bubble.