bambi

by imperfectlymisaligned

Summary:

Country boy, Kang Yeosang, is about to get a taste of the city when he is employed at a gay club as a dancer under the stage name, Bambi. Everyone hates him and wants him gone… except the mysterious head bartender, Song Mingi, who has turned down every dancer before Yeosang. It looks like Bambi might get lucky when the lead dancer, Vixen, bets Yeosang that he doesn’t have a chance with him.

Notes:

Kang Yeosang is a transgender male who refers to his genitals as pussy/cunt interchangeably. Viewer discretion is advised. Betaed by @fucksjuyo

Chapter 1: the way he moves, wildfire

Heading into his shift at SKIN is always a rocky start for Yeosang.

 

For starters, Yeosang has to leave his apartment no later than an hour before his shift, just so that he has adequate time to get into his outfit and touch up whatever makeup got jostled around in the city air. Then, it’s taking one line all the way down to the corner stop before hopping off to go on the east line that takes him to the bus to get him into the crowded center of Itaewon. At least it’s a weekday, which means that the crowds aren’t as unmanageable, and Yeosang was gifted with lanky limbs to part the seas like Moses.

 

He weaves his way through the streets with just a loose white T-shirt that has certainly seen better days with the small holes around the neckline and a heavily distressed pair of jeans that have turned white at the knees. Yeosang has his backpack on his shoulders for his stage outfit, where it will finally be the first time that he gets put in a slot to perform on the main stage… with Vixen, of course, but he can look past that!

 

Yeosang is in a good mood right now. He isn’t going to let fucking Vixen ruin that for him right now.

 

Jongho is standing at the door with his arms crossed as Yeosang reaches into his pocket for his ID. He’s in a crisp black suit with a black undershirt just to add to the mystique of it all. His brown hair is neatly styled to hang just above his eyebrow, showing off a sliver of forehead that somehow gets every twink wet in their pants for him. Yeosang can certainly see why so many regulars like him, as he is built like a stereotypical bear with a quiet demeanor.

 

“Bambi, we’ve been over this. You work here. You don’t need to show that to me,” Jongho says in a light yet still deep tone. Yeosang makes a soft noise as he quickly pockets his wallet again.

 

“Sorry, Jong- Bear. Bear.” He repeats it as his correction. A lot of the employees here go under stage names to help conceal the identities of those who work in the day outside of the club. Luckily, Yeosang was in a privileged enough position to only have to work at SKIN and enjoy his free time during the day. Jongho, however, is a tax auditor during the day and prefers to be called by a fake name in case one of his higher up clients find him. “Habit, I guess,” Yeosang offers a soft smile as an apology.

 

Jongho just nods his head, motioning Yeosang inside. Being inside of a club with the overhead, fluorescent lighting on is something that he is still getting used to. It feels like such a sharp contrast to the hazy dark smoke on bright pink and purple strobe lights, coupled with the throb of heavy techno music that makes the dance floor move like liquid. Instead, it sounds like Seonghwa has the aux cord with how the songs melt from Taylor Swift to Miley Cyrus to Arctic Monkeys, an eclectic hodge podge of modern Western tunes.

 

“Evening, Bambi,” Yeosang hears a call from the bar, turning his head to see who called him.

 

Sure enough, it’s the voice of an angel that sure dresses like the devil.

 

A much taller guy dressed in black from head to toe pinches a lime wedge into the metal shaker tin for a cocktail. He likes to wear his shirts open, barely hanging on by two buttons, with chunky silver chains, usually crosses and matching trinkets. Instead of the leather pants that he was probably encouraged to wear, he has black denim jeans with a nice flare at the calves that make him look even longer than he already is. Despite his profession behind the bar, he has  square sunglasses perched at the edge of his nose, close to slipping off with how they were dangling off of his face. Yeosang watches as drops of lime juice are expelled from the citrus pinched between the man’s long fingers covered in rings that definitely aren’t health code approved, but who cares about the schematics?

 

“Hi, Mingi,” Yeosang waves with a smile that makes his eyes crinkle. Song Mingi has been the head bartender of SKIN since it first opened about half a decade ago. No one was going to move him away from this position and even if he came from a background of good money and slightly attentive parents, he was never going to quit SKIN, no matter how much he was constantly sexually harassed by the club’s scarlet.

 

God, can Yeosang stop trying to make everything about Vixen!?

 

Yeosang walks up closer to the bar, hoisting himself up into one of the plush bar stools that are in the corner. Mingi moves his work station closer to Yeosang, taking the knife back into his hand to continue supreming the citrus freshly washed in the metal bucket next to him. Yeosang can hear Mingi’s phone playing his own music but never meeting the same volume as Vixen’s phone connected to the club speakers. It sounds like something guitar and drum heavy, definitely someone screaming out on the other end of the track.

 

Mingi puts the knife down for a moment, reaching for the shaker to plop in a few ice cubes before shaking the tin by the side of his head. Based on the clear glass preventing everything from spilling out everywhere onto the floor, the cocktail he’s made is slightly clear with a greenish hue. Mingi knocks his elbow into the tin to dislodge the glass before reaching into the well for a chilled glass.

 

“Try this for me,” Mingi says as Yeosang watches the concoction swirl around in a rocks glass. He adds a mint sprig and another lime wedge before sliding it to the dancer.

 

Yeosang brings the glass up to his nose for a sniff, smelling a heavy mix of lime and melon. “What is it?”

 

Mingi puts a bottle of melon vodka on the counter. “Melon lime drop. Hongjoong thinks that we need a club classics kind of menu, so be honest if you hate it.” Mingi’s voice is husky, almost too low to be heard but just the perfect mix of seductive. No wonder he gets fifteen phone numbers a night, according to his coworkers. However, Yeosang has never seen Mingi leave with anyone else or go into anyone else’s car. He is always one of the last ones to leave, but he only ever returns to his sleek black Jaguar XF to go home every night.

 

Before Yeosang gets a chance to take a sip, he feels it suddenly snatched out of his hand, where he can see Mingi’s eyes following where the glass ends up. Whoever took the glass knocks it back without flinching, taking three hefty gulps before slamming it back down on the bartop. “Ugh, Mingi, I told you I hate melon shit.”

 

Mingi rolls his eyes. “Well, I don’t know if you noticed, Vixen, but one, that wasn’t for you. And two, I don’t make menus around you .”

 

Yeosang soon sees Vixen behind him, where he’s already in his show outfit of a black bodysuit that cuts into his V-line like a bikini adorned with red sequin kiss marks along sensitive parts of the human body. He has makeup to match, a bold red lip and a dark smoky eye with what looks like really expensive red glitter on his lids. He has on a pair of red bottom heels that click when he walks and Yeosang isn’t sure if he wants to know if they’re knock offs or not.

 

“When it’s my club, you do make the menu around me,” Vixen sneers with a scoff.

 

Mingi crosses his arms, looking at the much more experienced dancer over his sunglasses. “I don’t remember your name being on the lease, Seonghwa.” Most wouldn’t dare to talk back to Seonghwa. It doesn’t help that the owner of the club, Kim Hongjoong, has a very big soft spot for Seonghwa (and a not-so-soft something else for him, too), but he has always had quite the big ego about himself. Mingi wasn’t sure if he has ever met anyone with such an inflated ego, but Seonghwa never fails to impress him.

 

“Doesn’t need to be. Even sweet little Bambi here knows his place.” Seonghwa rests his elbow on the crown of his head like he is nothing more than a table. Mingi narrows his eyes at him as he places the dirty glass in the dish bin. “Isn’t that right, Bambi ?”

 

Yeosang wasn’t sure where the nickname came from. When he auditioned to be a part of SKIN, he managed to impress Hongjoong despite how he looked like he was about to fall over with how nervous he was. Before he made it on the stage, he couldn’t find his voice, his rhythm, his rhyme, but the moment that the music started playing, he wrapped his leg around the pole with ease and worked that stiff piece of metal like it was his bitch. It was Hongjoong’s idea to name him Bambi, the runt of the other dancers who didn’t show his potential until the spotlight was on him.

 

Seonghwa hated it.

 

The brunette just feebly nods, knowing that he was more likely to get a total bitch out if he didn’t just concede the fight. Mingi understands that he can’t do much with how new he is. After all, he’s only been working the side stages for about a month now. Hongjoong was finally ready to put him on the main stage, but it wasn’t without a screaming match with Seonghwa about sharing the spotlight. Rehearsals have been torturous, with Seonghwa nitpicking every single detail possible without any sort of reason. He was half a beat too early, his foot wasn’t turned in close enough, his smile wasn’t wide enough. Yeosang knew that he was doing all of this so that he didn’t ask to ever be on the main stage again, but he wasn’t going to let it deter him.

 

One day, Yeosang was going to stand up for himself and not let Seonghwa win for once in his life.

 

This time, however, he will let him.

 

“See?” Seonghwa grabs Yeosang’s face, squishing his cheeks together to make his mouth pout. “Be more like Bambi here. A pliant, good for nothing bitch. ” Seonghwa tosses his face away when he deems himself bored, giggling to himself as he pushes past Yeosang to lean against the bartop. “You would like that though, wouldn’t you, Mingi? You love well-behaved bitches.”

 

Mingi’s top lip almost curls up in a snarl. “I love it when you get your nasty paws off of my bar.” Mingi pushes against his hands where Seonghwa staggers forward because of the heels. Yeosang has to suppress his laugh as the older dancer backs away.

 

“Whatever. You’re going to realize it one day, Mingi. I’m the best fuck that you’re just choosing to miss out on.”

 

Mingi just shrugs. “Oh, no. How will I live with myself?” he says sardonically before returning to clean up the mess that he made making the drink that Seonghwa was so eager to spit on. It just gave Mingi more eagerness to put it on the menu and piss Seonghwa off even more. Not like he really cares what the main dancer has to think anyways. He knows what’s going to sell and anything with Vixen’s name is going to fly out the door.

 

Seonghwa just huffs, taking himself and his Louboutins back to the dressing room. “Don’t be late, Bambi. We open in an hour,” he snarls, trying to get the last word now that Mingi has humiliated him.

 

Seonghwa does have a point though, he should probably start getting ready. He almost expects Mingi to make him another drink, but he decides it probably won’t help his nerves to drink it anyways. “So, what are you going to call it?”

 

“The drink? Oh. Do you think The Vixen has a ring to it?” Mingi softly chuckles, a sound that Yeosang finds comfort in hearing. Mingi is such an enigma to everyone else in the club. There are rumors floating around with how many romantic and sexual advances that he rejects every night, from both customers and employees. Some say maybe he just doesn’t like sex or dealing with the messiness of feelings, some think that Mingi thinks that he’s better than everyone else and chooses to humiliate everyone, and a very select few think that Mingi isn’t gay at all!

 

Then again, they said that about Bear, too.

 

Mingi is the only employee other than Hongjoong that doesn’t have a secondary name. Even his other bartenders, two other bears called Wonho and Shownu, go by secondary names just because they thought that it would be fun. Mingi insists that he has nothing to hide when it comes to his real name. To be honest, it kind of suits him, especially with such a mysterious demeanor surrounding him.

 

Yeosang giggles at the name of the drink that Mingi proposes. “I don’t know how you have been dealing with him for five years. I’m impressed.”

 

“The key is realizing that all of his bitching and whining of getting me fired is never going to amount to anything. Hongjoong likes me too much to kick me out. And I’m sure it’s the same for you, too. I can’t wait to see you on that floor tonight,” Mingi confesses, taking out a clean shot glass for Yeosang. He pours a good serving of that melon vodka that was on the counter before sliding it to the dancer. “Liquid courage?”

 

Yeosang just shrugs with a smile. “Sure. What the hell?” He takes it back with a soft wince as the burn coats the back of his throat, followed by the mellow note of honeydew on his tongue. It felt like a nice contrast to how sharp the alcohol was. Yeosang hikes his backpack tighter on his shoulder as he dismounts from the stool. “I’ll see you around, Mingi.”

 

“Right back at you, Bambi.” Mingi offers a wink before collecting the shot glass and the rest of the dishes, soon filing back into the dish pit past a swinging door.

 

He makes his way back to the green room, steeling his nerves with the anticipation of whatever Seonghwa has in store for him tonight. Thankfully, he seems to be in his private room. Think of Miss Piggy’s dressing room from The Muppets with his name on a big cardboard star taped to the door just to exclaim his authority. Seonghwa really is SKIN’s golden child, though maybe that’s due in part to how easily he will spread his legs for Hongjoong. Poor Hongjoong doesn’t even realize that Seonghwa just uses him to maintain that position and invoke fear in the rest of the dancers.

 

You would think that everyone’s joint hatred of Seonghwa would unite the dancers together in an effort to dethrone him. Wrong.

 

The moment that Bambi entered the scene, suddenly he was public enemy number one and the other dancers soon became Seonghwa’s lackeys. Truly, he had no one on his side. Still, Yeosang wasn’t going to let the intimidation games scare him off.

 

He takes one of the open rooms, already seeing someone sitting in a chair scrolling on his phone. Yeosang hopes that it won’t be too much drama and just silently puts his backpack down on the vanity, looking himself over in the showroom lit mirror. Luckily, when he meets eyes with the other guy (Luscious, he thinks his name is), he just snorts through his nose and gets back to his phone.

 

Yeosang lets out the breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. 

 

His makeup is thankfully easy and something that he does in one try. He doesn’t like to mess too much with his natural skin tone so he still keeps that golden, sun-kissed hue as he packs on a nude pink blush to bring out the flecks in his eyes. Yeosang pops in lighter brown contacts as he dots a liquid white eyeliner around his nose and cheeks. He certainly has learned to embrace the title of Bambi to a T, making sure to keep his features almost doll-like for the additional tip. He’s heard that many regulars are already starting to enjoy Bambi’s presence in the club, especially when he walks around like he’s seeing everything for the first time.

 

Luscious looks up from his phone with a sneer. “You look like you’re seven.”

 

Yeosang decides not to listen to the insult, trying to keep his hand steady to put on his eyeliner. The tremors that he was born with certainly don’t help already. Surprisingly, he manages to make the line sharp like a dagger before letting out a deep exhale. “Thank you. I’m going for a more innocent look.”

 

The other dancer just scoffs. “That wasn’t a compliment.”

 

“I know.” Yeosang looks at Luscious through the mirror before grabbing his bag to go change in the bathroom.

 

“I just don’t understand why you don’t just change in here,” Luscious remarks. “We are all guys here. Not anything we haven’t seen before.”

 

Yeosang’s body goes rigid for a moment, where he gulps down the urge to snap back. “It’s called multitasking. Try it sometime.”

 

He pushes the bathroom door open, thankful that the employee version is a single stall with one door that has a functioning lock. Yeosang throws his bag on the hook, grabbing the edges of the porcelain sink before looking at his soft makeup in the mirror. It certainly does make him look a few years younger than his true age, but it’s all for the show.

 

Peeling his shirt off in one motion, he can see the raised bumps just below his nipples, two peach pink lines that make Yeosang the man that he has become. It’s his biggest secret out of anything here, that he’s a transgender man finding comfort among these other cisgender men in a gay club. Yeosang doesn’t see anything wrong with his identity in a place like this, but with how rotten Seonghwa has been treating him since day one, Yeosang didn’t want to give him anymore ammunition. Though, that would certainly speak to Vixen’s morals, but that’s neither here nor there.

 

He picks out a soft, brown fur tank top that cuts off just above his navel and shows off the subtle swell of his arms now that he’s been working out again after he got the job. It definitely helps him when it comes to working the pole and having that core strength to keep him suspended for long periods of time. While Seonghwa is known to spin around the pole or make suggestive touches to it to get a rise out of a customer, Yeosang knows how to tame it like the wild animal that it is. Maybe it helps that he still has the body parts, unlike the awkwardness of a dick working such cold metal.

 

Still, it’s not information that Yeosang would ever give up easily.

 

To add to the fur element, he glued some pieces of a white feather boa on the hem line of a pair of corduroy micro shorts that show off where his ass meets his thighs. Coupled with white fur trim stiletto boots and Yeosang was truly Bambi the pole dancer.

 

He musses up his soft, brunette curls until they fall over his eyes just to his liking before unlocking the bathroom door and stepping out fully transformed. He even added blush to his knees and elbows to add to that doll-like affect. It was enough to get anyone to fish out an extra five dollar bill to tuck into his belt.

 

“There you are,” Vixen hisses, where Yeosang gingerly wipes his cheek from where spit sprayed across his face. “Wooyoung said you were in the bathroom. Anyways, I’ve got something to ask you.”

 

This already felt like a trap, yet Yeosang just sighs. “Yes, Vixen?”

 

Seonghwa crosses his arms over his chest. Yeosang has always, admittedly, been impressed at Seonghwa’s ability to tuck so effectively. It’s hard to tell the outline of anything in his pants if you aren’t looking too closely, but Yeosang can see the gentle swell that gives him away. Not like he was staring down Seonghwa’s dick or anything. “Is there a reason you think you’re better than me?”

 

“I’m sorry?” He cocks his head like a puppy in confusion. Not that Yeosang would ever think that he was better than anyone else, but he already knows that whatever this conversation is going to become, it isn’t going to be a fun one.

 

“Don’t play stupid. I know you’re hooking up with Mingi.”

 

The accusation makes Yeosang’s brain stop with a comical record scratch.

 

“What? I’m not hooking up with anyone,” Yeosang says, though his voice is weak from how Seonghwa stares down at him like he was the shit on his shoe. “We are all just coworkers. There’s nothing going on.”

 

Seonghwa rolls his eyes with a scoff. “It’s the eyes he gives you. Don’t you get it, Bambi? Mingi hates dancers. He doesn’t like us. So what makes you think that he’s going to suddenly like you?”

 

“I’m not trying to get him to like me. I’m just trying to do my job and enjoy doing it a little. It’s not that hard to be nice to people, you know?” Yeosang can’t help but get the last part out, even if it will probably bite him back in the ass like the snake that Vixen is.

 

As if on cue, his lips curl up in a growl like a vicious animal ready to rip his prey apart. “What did you just say?” Yeosang swears that his eyes are red with rage, which doesn’t seem like him to get upset over something so trivial.

 

“I said, it would pay you to be nice to me sometimes. I’m not trying to get into anyone’s position or be better than anyone. I’m just here to work, just like you are.” Yeosang tries to get such bold words out as fast as he can, as firm as he can, but it’s obvious by the way that his voice wobbles that he is standing on shaky ground. It’s brave for Yeosang to stick up for himself, but it’s a suicide mission to stand up against Park Seonghwa, the star of the show.

 

He can tell that he is digging his grave with how the other dancers surrounding Seonghwa like a posse are hissing out their secondhand embarrassment. In a pit of vipers, there’s always a queen, and she won’t be bested.

 

Seonghwa pushes his hand into Yeosang’s chest, where he staggers back. He manages to keep his balance, but it’s not without a wobble that makes him wonder if his ankles are done for. “Listen here, Yoosung,” he bites, not even taking the common courtesy to know Yeosang’s name or say it right. “Around these parts, I act the way I want to. Nobody tells me otherwise. And right now, I’m going to hate your guts the way I want to hate your guts.” With a click of his heels, he’s now in Yeosang’s face, a finger continuously jabbing into his chest. “I’m nice to who I want to be nice to. You’re not on that list. And you will never be on that list. So when I ask questions, I expect answers. Honest ones .” Seonghwa’s finger digs particularly hard into the area just above his sternum. “Am I clear?”

 

Yeosang feels his eyes water, but he doesn’t dare let Seonghwa see weakness in him, even if his entire being screams it. He takes a hard sniff, looking Seonghwa in the eyes with a curt nod. “Crystal.”

 

The answer seems to satisfy Seonghwa enough, where he steps back and admires the work of humiliating the younger dancer. Yeosang can hear the chorus of laughter when Seonghwa smiles down at him, knowing that he has Yeosang whimpering like a shot animal. He would never win against the Vixen. He’s got too many people protecting him, he’s the angel of the club. It’s why so many people come back for more.

 

Why is he so interested in Yeosang potentially hooking up with Mingi anyways?

 

When he walks off, most likely to finish getting ready for the show, Yeosang stands against the wall for a moment, trying to regain himself. He should have known that it wasn’t going to go well when he talked to Vixen like that, but no one else was going to do it for him. They all hated his guts just as much as Seonghwa, but never more. He was a threat, especially since he was the only true “professional” pole dancer.

 

The moody strum of guitars is soon changed to something heavy on synths and snares. SKIN was open for business and Yeosang needed to make his way back out on the floor.

 

Darkness swallowed the main floor, aside from the multicolor spotlights and strobes as the lesser dancers took up to the big tables full of a bachelorette party and a birthday celebration. Yeosang just rolls his eyes as he spots Mingi at the bar, taking orders and managing conversation like it was second nature. From the sound of it, both of his supporting bartenders have called out, leaving Mingi to run his bar single-handed. He didn’t mind; he liked the quiet constant without someone else fucking with his rhythm.

 

As he tries to find a free platform around the side stages to dance on, he finds that they are all occupied. There’s five platforms and six dancers: Vixen, Luscious and Precious, Tigress, Sour Candy (yes, he insists that you call him by his full name), and Bambi. Even if there were enough platforms for all six of them, they would find a way to sabotage it somehow.

 

That means that Yeosang has to work the main floor serving overpriced jell-o shots like a waitress.

 

Yeosang lets out a sigh before clicking his heels up to the bar where Mingi has his first tray. “Didn’t get a platform in time?”

 

“No,” he yells over the loud techno happening on the speakers. “Kind of got… sidetracked.” And by that, he was resetting his teary eyed makeup smudges from how Seonghwa spoke to him like he was the shit on his shoe.

 

Mingi pushes the practically fluorescent concoctions in tiny plastic cups towards Yeosang. “Show them what you got, Bambi.” The bartender offers him a wink that makes Yeosang’s cheeks burn a little hotter than usual from the soft flirt and maybe the small shot he took earlier. Yeosang wasn’t a lightweight by any means, but Mingi’s demeanor sure made him feel mushy in the stomach.

 

Yeosang hoists the tray over his shoulder, grabbing the card reader to hook onto the belt of his shorts. He regathers his determination to prove his worth, just as Mingi encouraged him to do, pushing himself back onto the side of the club where it’s far enough from the main floor but still in the vicinity of the action.

 

The other dancers can’t help but watch how even though Yeosang seems so incredibly awkward in person, he knows how to push himself forward as his persona and get two - no, three - shots in almost everyone’s hand. Even if he’s only been tabling shots most of his time at SKIN, there’s a way that he is able to sweet talk people into drinking a little bit more than they should that is almost admirable. He does it all without sounding pompous or better than the dancers on the platforms.

 

He can feel the holes boring into the back of his head with how Seonghwa is staring him down. Yeosang just shrugs it off and makes it back up to the bar.

 

“Next round?” Yeosang offers a sheepish smile as he pushes the empty tray forward. It had only been half an hour since they opened and there were several bills tucked into the belt of his shorts. Mingi can’t help but look down at the empty tray with bewilderment.

 

“That has to be a new record or something.”

 

Before the conversation gets anywhere fun, Yeosang is suddenly bumped into, where he falls against the bar. He only doesn’t slam his whole face into it thanks to his hands planted on the bar top. “Won’t you do a girl a solid with five green tea shots? Maybe some backshots of your own, hm, Gigi?”

 

Yeosang looks over his shoulder, feeling how the sequins of a body suit dig into his arm. Seems like Vixen isn’t too impressed with that idea of a personal record. He should have known that his performance was going to catch his attention and ultimately piss him off.

 

Mingi raises an eyebrow at Vixen as he continues shaking the tin in his hand. He doesn’t let the sexually charged comment deter him from the tickets sitting in front of him on the bar. “There’s six of you.” It seems like Mingi is trying to keep Yeosang involved, but his attempts are deemed fraught.

 

Seonghwa leans over the bar despite Yeosang being an earshot away. “Oh, c’mon, baby, when do you ever let the children drink?”

 

Mingi looks at Seonghwa over his sunglasses as Seonghwa tries to play him up with those eyes. There’s nothing that stops Mingi from doing what he’s told and he would rather have an easy night than a hard one. Even Mingi sometimes finds it better to do whatever than to fight him. “Fine. Shoo.”

 

“Oh, I knew you liked me, baby~ No wonder I’m the only one that really likes you.” Seonghwa purrs, where Mingi turns away to look at the other tickets that he has to get to first.

 

“I said shoo , Vixen.”

 

It leaves Yeosang awkwardly at the bar counter, waiting for another round of jell-o shots to fill the empty tray in front of him. Of course, Seonghwa would never just leave him without another jab.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Bambi. I’m just so behind on my tab.” There’s a hand on Yeosang’s shoulder that makes him flinch. He knows that Vixen is lying through his teeth, anything to exclude Yeosang at all costs. “You understand though, right? Maybe if you work harder, you’ll get there! Besides, wouldn’t want a drink to… fuck you up for your first main stage after all! Now meet me with those in the green room when you’re done, m’kay?” There’s a hard squeeze to his shoulder that almost makes Yeosang wince from the force before he turns away with a click of those fucking heels.

 

“Sure, Vixen. I didn’t want one anyways,” Yeosang hisses to himself under his breath, thankful that the music is so loud that he won’t get snapped at for trying to be smart.

 

Mingi pours a good amount of peach schnapps and Jameson in a clean tin, simultaneously garnishing a line of sex on the beaches, vodka mules, and of course, the Vixen. It seems to be a hot commodity after Mingi threw it onto the board without Seonghwa noticing. He will certainly have words when he sees almost radioactively green concoctions running around the main dance floor. Yeosang doesn’t know how Mingi keeps his cool with people barking their orders at him and trying to manage tabs and different credit cards and tips left and right.

 

Still, Mingi uses his elbow to crack open the tin before pouring the transparent and slightly yellow tinged liquid between six shot glasses, all sugared on the rim. Before Yeosang takes the tray to load them up himself, Mingi slams down the extra shot for Yeosang, making him jump in response.

 

“Vixen hasn’t had a tab here since he got finger fucked in the keg room. Consider it a gift from him that he doesn’t know about,” Mingi winks over his sunglasses.

 

Yeosang smiles softly at him, taking the glass in his hands and downing the shot in one fell swoop with a loud “kyaaa!” from the way that it burns all the way down his throat. “Fuck, that’s strong!” Yeosang coughs a little from how the taste of sweet peaches, the pucker of lime, and the burn of Jameson gets to him.

 

When he hears Yeosang’s adverse reaction to the shot, Mingi reaches into the cup of sliced limes that he prepared earlier. “I should have realized you wouldn’t take your shots like Vixen does.” They aren’t supposed to use their real names on the floor for their protection. Not like Seonghwa cares if his real name is floating around SKIN. He is the star after all. Everyone should know who the fuck Park “Vixen” Seonghwa is.

 

“I just prefer really sweet drinks,” Yeosang shrugs. “He won’t get mad that I drank his stuff?”

 

“His stuff? This is my bar. He can talk to me if he’s got such a problem with it. Just consider it our little secret, Bambi~” Mingi puts the lime wedge between his finger and thumb, almost like he’s about to squeeze it. Yeosang reaches out to take it, but Mingi yanks his hand back. “Put your hands on the bar.”

 

Yeosang has a look of befuddlement on his face when Mingi tells him that. “But how am I supposed to-?”

 

“Just do what you think you should.” His voice doesn’t leave any sort of room to question him or argue with him. It made Yeosang’s stomach tingle in a way that he hadn’t felt before. 

 

Mingi brings the lime wedge back into Yeosang’s vision again, where Yeosang places his palms flat on the bar top and leans in. Mingi pushes it closer until Yeosang’s teeth sink into the flesh, his lips touching each point of Mingi’s fingers. He can see the glittering rings on his hand, where he swears he can count the stones set into each chunky band. He sinks his teeth deeper, feeling how the capsules of citrus explode onto his tongue to try and lessen the intensity of the alcohol burnt into his throat.

 

“That’s a good boy,” Mingi hums as he nudges the lime wedge deeper into Yeosang’s mouth until the peel is covering his teeth. His eyes flick up in shock at Mingi’s words, hearing the way that he purrs them out like the praise that it is. It doesn’t matter that people at the bar are watching them and think that it’s all just a part of the show, hollering about how sexy the encounter is, to Yeosang, it’s just the two of them in a quiet room full of nothing.

 

“Ugh, where is that fucking bitch!? ” The almost feminine screech doesn’t deter Yeosang from tilting his head into the lime, licking up the juice that drips from Mingi’s thumb. He is so entranced by Mingi’s presence that getting pulled down from the cloud that he’s on is going to result in quite the brutal fall.

 

Seonghwa pushes his way up to the bar through the crowd of gyrating bodies covered in sweat and cheap cologne. “What the fuck is taking you so l– Mingi. ” His mouth is slightly agape as he takes in the sight in front of him. Mingi, who would never touch him with a ten foot pole, basically has his fingers down the throat of this… this slut!

 

Yeosang hears the way that Seonghwa sneers out the bartender’s name and jerks back, the peel still stuck between his fingers. Mingi just tosses it in the trash like nothing happened, ignoring the small drops of spit on his fingers.

 

“What do you think you’re doing, Gigi?”

 

The nickname makes Mingi narrow his eyes at Seonghwa. He knows damn well that Mingi hates it, hates the way that he flirts, hates the way that he refers to him so casually. Maybe Seonghwa gets off on getting underneath Mingi’s skin while simultaneously trying to find his way into his pants. “My job. Maybe you should go do yours.”

 

There’s a scoff from the more experienced dancer as he folds his arms over his chest. Yeosang wishes that he could just melt into the floor or go back to doing his job like nothing was going on. However, that’s wishful thinking, and he’s already knee deep in whatever the fuck this is.

 

“Oh, so your job includes feeding lines to helpless little brats ?” Seonghwa thinks that he has the upper hand because he has the power. He has the entirety of this club in the palm of his hand, simply because Hongjoong likes him too much and would never think to get rid of him. However, it’s the same case with Mingi because if it were up to Seonghwa, he would have gotten the younger bartender fired years ago.

 

Mingi just goes back to pouring some sort of alcohol in a long line of shot glasses. “No. I was feeding Bambi a lime, not you.”

 

The entire line of customers at the bar can’t help but laugh at Seonghwa because of Mingi’s comment. Yeosang can see Seonghwa’s face go whiter than a sheet as he tries to stammer a response that comes off as just as snooty and intelligent.

 

“Well, he’s got a fucking show to do. If he doesn’t trip over those two left feet of his. So please, let him do his job, m’kay?” Seonghwa huffs, but he doesn’t leave the bar just yet. “Get those back into the green room now, Bambi. We’ve got shit to get ready for.”

 

Yeosang is silent, hanging his head a little bit as Seonghwa gives Mingi another sharp look that feels like it should intimidate him but it does no such thing. Nobody would ever scare Mingi into submission. Before Mingi gets a chance to say anything, Yeosang just straightens his posture and steers his face back to slightly emotionless. “It’s fine. He’s got a point. I should probably just get these back for him and get ready.”

 

He grabs the tray after Mingi loads the shots on for him, bringing it back over his shoulder before he makes his way back to the green room. As he pushes the door open, the loud chatter from the other dancers suddenly comes to a quiet as he places the tray on the center table. “Here.”

 

Before Yeosang turns to take his leave to get ready, Seonghwa barks a laugh. “Ah, ah, I’m not done with you.” Yeosang’s back goes rigid as he is addressed with such a sinister giggle. “I thought you weren’t sleeping with him. Seems to me you’re just a big fat fucking liar.”

 

“We are not .” Yeosang hisses through his teeth, keeping himself away from Seonghwa as much as possible.

 

“Bull-fuckin’-shit! Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

 

Yeosang turns around, trying to fight the tears in his eyes. “Jesus, Seonghwa, you’re not my mother.” He mumbles under his breath, but it seems like it didn’t fall on deaf ears.

 

“Oh, my bad. You think you’re hot shit all of a sudden because you were sucking a lime like his fucking cockhead. There’s no way that you’re going to look me in the eyes and think that you’re better than me just because you know how to slut out. I know how to do that, too. If you want to sleep with the fucking sociopath, it’s your life.” Seonghwa grabs his shot off of the tray, knocking it back in one hit without flinching. “No. No, actually, now that I think about it, you could never pull off Song Mingi.”

That definitely gets to Yeosang a little as he turns around to face Seonghwa full on, trying to keep his posture straight and his chest slightly puffed out to seem bigger than he is. Almost like he was a prey in the animal kingdom trying to intimidate the massive lioness in front of him that’s going to swallow him whole. “What makes you think I can’t?”

 

“He’s a sociopath!”

 

“I don’t even think he has sex. At least that he doesn’t pay for.”

 

“Hell, I don’t even think he’s actually gay!”

 

“He probably just works here because it’s the only place that would take a freak like him.”

 

“Don’t you know how rich he is? He doesn’t need to be here. He just chooses to be.”

 

The accusations about Mingi fly everywhere across the room. Perhaps it’s because of the aura of mystery that Mingi keeps around him, but Yeosang almost believes the claims if it weren’t for the fact that Yeosang actually took the chance to talk to him for a bit. During his breaks, he likes to slide up to the bar with a small cup of Sprite from the soda gun that Mingi pours out for him and tell him about his childhood living in the countryside. Yeosang moved into the depths of the city with the hopes of finding something new to live for. He didn’t grow up being a dancer or anything, but he had found the flyer for SKIN taped to a light post near his apartment complex that caught his eye. Apparently, Seonghwa had gotten the other one fired, not trusting them enough to keep them in the tightly knit circle of dancers, and they were desperate for a sixth. Maybe Yeosang can see why that didn’t last.

 

Mingi regaled in his life being kind of a spoiled brat growing up on a trust fund when he got older. Only his mother was still alive, but they didn’t talk much. Not everyone was willing to fish that kind of information out of Mingi because they didn’t want to take the time to really know him. It was better to make baseless rumors than to get to know the fucking guy. It was true that he was working here to occupy his time, but he was using the money to afford the very luxurious diet that his pet doberman, Princess, was recommended by the vet.

 

“And a sociopath would never sleep with the likes of a dancer, especially not you .” Seonghwa jabs his finger into his chest again and Yeosang can’t help but take the rage bait and snatch his hand. “Wow, girls, look how fucking tough he’s gotten!”

 

“I can sleep with him,” Yeosang says, his jaw set and not realizing the weight of what he’s saying.

 

Seonghwa barks out another laugh as he looks around the room at the other dancers who are cackling just as hard. “Prove it then. Make it in his pants and… we will cut you twenty-five percent of our tips this week. And if you can’t do it, you quit. Leave your resignation on Hongjoong’s desk and never come back. Not even with whoever would actually fuck the likes of you on your free time. I’ll stick your sorry ass deer face on the blacklist board by Jongho’s office myself.”

 

It’s a risky deal. After all, he is already going to have the risqué mark of being an erotic dancer on his resume until he has enough ground in the job market for another slot. Perhaps Yeosang is riding the high a little bit longer than he should be, a slight cockiness in his step when he puts full faith that he can pull this off.

 

“And, if I succeed, you have to treat me like a human being.”

 

The room stops for a while, stewing in Yeosang’s addition to the bargain. It’s a hefty ask and not really one that Yeosang can technically enforce, but it was worth a shot to get some respect on his name. He expects Seonghwa to spit on his face and call it off, but he outstretches his hand.

 

“Sure. Only if you can pull it off.”

 

“Then, we have a deal?” Yeosang asks, looking at Seonghwa’s hand like it was a foreign object.

 

“Do you think I want to just hold my hand out for funsies? Shake it.” Seonghwa looks at Yeosang with a firm glare as Yeosang grabs his hand to shake on the deal.

 

It was now set in stone. Yeosang had to find some way to get Mingi to have sex with him or lose his job. Easy enough, right?

 

“Now, we’ve got a show to perform,” Seonghwa bumps into his shoulder as he walks back out onto the main floor, the rest of the dancers following behind him like ducklings. “Try to keep up with the routine, hm?”

 

Yeosang just sighs, stepping into the wardrobe room for the black sequin jacket that he has to wear over his clothes to be a part of Seonghwa’s ensemble. There’s a kiss mark in red sequins on the right side of his chest, where the word “SKIN” is etched in silver chrome cursive on the back. This was Seonghwa’s moment so even despite his stage outfit of soft browns and furs, he still had to look like he was a part of Seonghwa’s entourage.

 

He’s not.

 

Yeosang doesn’t usually like showy pieces for himself. It’s why he was thankful that he was only required to wear the jacket. However, he isn’t going to lie and say that Seonghwa didn’t look good in the body suit. The soft swell of his crotch makes Yeosang feel a little envious that his packer can only fill him out so much.

 

He hears the music slowly start to dim, the cue for him to join the main stage with Seonghwa and Wooyoung. It’s just the two of them, and while Bambi certainly wasn’t his first choice, it was Hongjoong who wanted to see Yeosang’s potential that got him the slot. Wooyoung is in a deep purple sheer blouse, small threads of glitter running vertical against his chest. He’s wearing a nice looking pair of go go boots with this pair of micro shorts that cut even deeper into his ass than Yeosang’s do! He didn’t think that was possible!

 

The lights soon dim as they take their marks on the stage, X’s carved into the floor with black light tape.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the eithers or neithers, we welcome you to SKIN. We hope your experience is just as magical as always. We welcome to the stage your star child, Vixen! He is joined by your cult favorite, Luscious, and the newcomer, Bambi!” The audience offers raucous applause, a few hollers from the front as Seonghwa takes his position kneeling down. There’s two metal poles close to the side stages for them to ascend onto later.

 

The silence returns as a red spotlight falls onto Seonghwa, who starts to lip sync to some sort of sensual melody. As Yeosang hears the track outside of the instrumental for the first time, he realizes that it’s Seonghwa singing on the track, prerecorded though. It’s something that is definitely admirable about Seonghwa, knowing that he takes this job pretty seriously from time to time. He makes moves that make the crowd scream in his favor just as Yeosang and Wooyoung move in to grab him by the shoulders of his matching jacket and pull him back.

 

It’s a song and dance that actually catches Mingi’s attention, who stops shaking the tin in his hand to keep his eyes on Yeosang.

 

The way that Yeosang moves on the floor seems so different than when the other dancers grind and gyrate on each other like a frat party gone homosexual. Even with the bad blood between Seonghwa and Yeosang, he treats his senior dancer with respect, falling deep into the character that he’s supposed to portray as Seonghwa falls back down onto his knees. He uses his perky ass to show off when he turns around to show the print on the back of his jacket, where Yeosang and Wooyoung grab him again to pull it off of him. The song that he’s dancing to talks about shedding his old skin like a snake, the reason why they tear his jacket off of him and toss it to the side.

 

The back of the bodysuit is definitely modified because the jacket reveals a full lace back, just barely showing off his back muscles that are making the crowd respond so positively. He rides the stage with precision, his hands running all over his body as Yeosang makes his way over to the pole that he can’t wait to tame.

 

The moves that Wooyoung and Yeosang are supposed to do have to parallel each other. Luckily, they managed to tolerate each other through enough rehearsals to get some sort of routine cemented. Yeosang wraps his leg around the pole, doing a couple of spins when he realizes that Mingi is looking at him.

 

Any time that there is a show happening on the main stage, Mingi has his head down in the bar, in a constant rhythm with the heartbeat of the action. It’s like Seonghwa said, Mingi doesn’t like dancers. He thinks that what they are doing is beneath him… allegedly. Mingi has never said that out loud, but of course there’s no stopping speculation. However, it’s hard to believe in the claim when the head bartender can’t tear his eyes away from him.

 

Even when Yeosang flips himself upside down, slowly spinning like he’s food in the microwave, Mingi can’t look away. Even when someone snaps at him because he’s taking too long making drinks (nevermind that he’s the only one there), Mingi remains transfixed as Yeosang holds that pole like a leash on a mutt. This is Yeosang’s show, even if everyone is looking at Seonghwa.

 

Yeosang doesn’t care that people aren’t looking at him… Well, that’s what he thought until he made his way a little more forward in the set and found several phones pointed his way, some of them cheering his stage name and making a scene of their approval for the new dancer in SKIN’s ranks.

 

He has to maintain his composure when he realizes just how many pairs of eyes are watching as he flips and strokes the pole, rubbing his ass on it with a teasing look on his face. It didn’t matter what happened back in that green room before the show started, this was Bambi walking the floor and treating the pole like he owns it. He didn’t care about the verbal lashing that he was going to get from Vixen for upstaging him, he just wanted to feel alive.

 

The show lasts three minutes, where Yeosang soon descends down the pole, thankful that his packer didn’t get jostled too much during some of the sharp turns. He meets Seonghwa and Wooyoung back at the center of the stage to take the ending pose, their hands in their back pockets looking over their shoulder as Seonghwa holds his arms up. They are met with a long round of applause, where most people are still looking at Bambi as he regains his breath from such a strenuous routine.

 

Seonghwa maintains face on the stage, just looking forward so that he doesn’t rip Yeosang’s face off of his head in front of the crowd. He just smiles despite everyone not looking at him.

 

When the lights go down, Yeosang immediately scurries off of the stage, knowing that he’s about to get dragged through the mud. He grabs a stray tray on the table to take back to Mingi, a lot more hustle in his step. “Quick, give me something to hand out. Please.”

 

Mingi offers a curt nod, reaching for a stack of shot glasses so that he can pour some sort of alcohol in them and get Seonghwa off of his back. Yeosang feels someone grab his shoulder and expects the worst. “Bambi!”

 

“Look, I’m so–“

 

“That was incredible! ”

 

When Yeosang turns around, he realizes that it’s Kim Hongjoong, the owner and his boss. He lets out a sigh of relief when he realizes that Seonghwa won’t hurt him right now with Hongjoong talking to him. He can see Seonghwa practically blowing steam out of his ears when he sees his situationship with Yeosang. “Come here, Vixen!”

 

Seonghwa’s eyes widen, but he does what his boss tells him to do.

 

Yeosang likes Hongjoong a lot. He still acts like he’s in his early twenties where he has those oversized square sunglasses over his small face that he can barely peek over. He’s got on a black fringed jacket with a loosely worn white T-shirt underneath. It’s tucked into a distressed pair of jeans with a chunky belt wrapped around his waist. A pair of cowboy boots adorn his feet as he smiles shockingly square teeth at Yeosang. “Didn’t Bambi do amazing for his debut stage? And you said that he wouldn’t be able to keep up. Hell, maybe you couldn’t keep up, Vixen!” Hongjoong barks out a laugh that almost hurts Yeosang’s ears.

 

He can see the praises getting to Seonghwa and making the rising heat bubbling in his stomach start to tip over. Yeosang can see Mingi still pouring shots but moving a little slower to see the commotion going on in front of him. “You can definitely say that, Joong.” Seonghwa’s words are tight, his teeth clenched to the point that Yeosang can just barely make out the consonants.

 

“I’m telling you, Bambi, you’re going to be one to watch! I’m telling you! Haha! I’m going to go do a few more rounds, but fuck, it’s so nice to see you in your element here! Welcome to SKIN, my beautiful Bambi!” Hongjoong grabs his shoulder tighter to kiss his cheek, something that he’s prone to doing but feels even more sacred now that Seonghwa is standing right there. “I’ll let you get back to work, but go kick one of those girls off of the platform. That’s yours now, baby! Here, go give that tray to someone else, Mingi!”

 

Mingi softly chuckles as he lines up the shots on the tray. “Vixen, can you go get Precious to pass these?”

 

Before Seonghwa gets a chance to argue, he just forces a choked smile. “Sure, Mingi.” He doesn’t even get a chance to get close to Yeosang with how protected he is with Hongjoong standing there. Even with the boss’s small stature, he was practically a brick wall in front of Yeosang.

 

Untouchable.

 

Hongjoong takes his leave, following Vixen to go find Precious. Mingi leans over the bar towards Yeosang. “He really likes you.”

 

“I’m… noticing that. God, Seonghwa is going to kill me later, isn’t he?” Yeosang can’t help but dread the time that it takes between now and finally clocking out and going to hit his nice and comfortable bed.

 

That is until he remembers what he’s just laid on the line.

 

He swallows hard on the lump in his throat as Mingi shrugs. “Nah. He’s going to go get fucked by Hongjoong in like…” Mingi checks an imaginary watch, “At least by the end of the night. He’ll be find after that.” Mingi grabs somebody’s order and card right over Yeosang’s shoulder. “Go get a platform, Bambi. You earned it.”

 

Yeosang feels a little bit more of his resolve recover, offering a nod as he finds himself dancing on the raised stage platform that Precious was on and loving every second of being the one that everyone was watching.

 

He was going to prove that he belonged here. Now all he had to do was figure out how to have sex with the bartender. 

Chapter 2: slide to me, no need for words

Thankfully, for the rest of the night, Vixen is nowhere to be seen. It seems like the rumors were true when Mingi said that Hongjoong was going to take care of it and fuck is Yeosang grateful. He just had to deal with the lingering eyes of the rest of the dancers, but it was something that he could manage longer than Vixen.

 

Last call was announced half an hour ago and Jongho is inside pushing drunk people into cabs, making sure no one is trying to overstay their welcome. He soon comes in to fetch Luscious to take him home, where Jongho keeps a firm hand on the cheek of his ass through his shorts pocket. Yeosang has known that they were seeing each other since he first started working here, but Jongho doesn’t make it obvious during working hours. Wooyoung seems to do the same. They act like total strangers, but maybe it’s helpful that they work two opposing sides of the club.

 

The other dancers decide to split the fare on a cab but before Yeosang gets a chance to ask if he can contribute to the pool, they look at him with wary eyes. “Oh, um… sorry, Bambi. The car is full. You understand, don’t you?”

 

Sure, he always understands. It’s what Seonghwa says, it’s what they say, he will figure out how to understand.

 

“Um… Yeah… Then, I’ll see you guys tomorrow?”

 

They don’t answer him. They just rejoin in a tight circle, laughing and gossiping with bare faces and show clothes still on. Yeosang sighs, realizing that he had forgotten makeup wipes at home. He is usually a little bit more prepared than this to change into comfortable clothes for the subway so that he doesn’t get jumped or harassed the entire long way home.

 

“Are you going to change?” Mingi asks, running a wet and soapy rag along the bar top. His deep voice makes Yeosang squeak from the suddenness. “Sorry, did I startle you?”

 

Yeosang softly chuckles when Mingi addresses him. “No. I just didn’t think you were still here. I thought you had left with the others by now.”

 

“Well, I am the one with the keys, so no, not yet.” He motions for Yeosang to sit down at the bar, where the dancer makes sure that he doesn’t touch the wet surface currently drying. The cleaner smells like freshly cut lemons that makes Yeosang’s eyes sting a little. “Waiting for a ride?”

 

“Oh, no. I usually take the bus and train home.”

 

Mingi looks at him with a raised eyebrow, his eyes flicking up and down at his outfit. “That’s a little bit dangerous this late though in that outfit. You didn’t want to change?”

 

The truth is, Yeosang needed some way to try and get Mingi’s attention. When he realized that he forgot his makeup wipes, he had the thought to try and use his sensual yet slightly modest outfit to his advantage. Perhaps he could put on some sort of organic charm that wouldn’t leave Mingi suspicious about what he was doing. He can only hope for the best.

 

“Oh, I guess I didn’t really think about it,” Yeosang says, trying to keep his voice a little lower as he lets his eyelids hang a little heavier than usual. The way that he’s trying to look sexy is a little… unusual. “I don’t know, I feel like myself in this outfit. What do you think?” Yeosang spins the bar stool around so that Mingi can get a better look, trying to let his ass hang over the edge of the seat.

 

Mingi is definitely suspicious with the way that Yeosang is acting as he tosses the cleaning rag in a red bucket of sanitizer. “Bambi, what are you doing?”

“I don’t… I don’t know what you mean, baby.” The way that the nickname fell out of his mouth felt more like a mistake than something arousing.

 

Even Mingi can’t help but have a puzzled look on his face with this… attempt at flirting. “God, please tell me that’s not the best flirting that you can do.” He looks almost disinterested, returning back to his work of fitting new pour spouts on the new bottles that he opened up for the next shift. Yeosang realizes that he’s losing his chance of trying to get Mingi to settle up with him.

 

“I– Hey, it wasn’t that bad,” Yeosang can’t help but pout a little.

 

“No. It’s pretty bad.”

 

Yeosang lets out a noise between his stammer as he hangs his head. “Yeah. Maybe a little.”

 

Mingi chuckles as Yeosang admits his defeat, where he seems to be finishing up his cleaning duties. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

“Wait!”

 

The bartender stops, turning back towards Yeosang who has his hand held up and his bottom lip between his teeth. It’s obvious that there is something going on with Yeosang with how he is acting so out of character. Mingi tilts his head when Yeosang yells at him to wait.

 

Yeosang doesn’t know the best way to approach this. How the hell do you tell the bartender that you have to have sex with him to keep your job? In hindsight, it’s a crazy idea and something that Yeosang shouldn’t have agreed to so quickly. Then again, it was the heat of the moment and now that he’s coming down from that post clarity high, it’s deep shit that he’s wading through right now.

 

“I… Well… Um… So let’s say, on a hypothetical,” Yeosang pauses for a moment.

 

“Uh huh,” Mingi hums, crossing his arms over his chest where Yeosang has to look away from how his biceps slightly flex from the angle.

 

“Seonghwa may or may not have said that,” the dancer clears his throat. “That ifwedon’thavesexIhavetoquit.” His voice trails off, where he is hoping that Mingi understood enough and will just agree to something quick and easy.

 

That’s wishful thinking though and Mingi leans his body against the bar, trying to get a better angle to hear him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that last part.”

 

“Seonghwa dared me to try and get me to sleep with you so that I can stay here.”

 

The room falls dead silent, to the point that Yeosang can hear the air conditioning fan whirring in the background. He swallows hard as the quietness continues to dwell on for a second too long, to the point that Yeosang realizes the weight of what he’s asking right now. He starts to pick at a hangnail on his left ring finger just so that he can distract himself from the tears that are about to start welling in his eyes.

 

He’s going to have to quit. He’s going to have to tell Seonghwa that he couldn’t do it and face the scrutiny of his gaze and those long laughs as everyone points and mocks him for not having the charisma that everyone thought that he could have.

 

“That’s it?” Mingi pulls up on the bar top’s door, pushing the piece of wood against the wall as he steps out from behind it. Yeosang spins towards him in the chair, looking up at him with wide eyes. Fuck, Mingi is going to do something bad to him, isn’t he? Before he gets a chance to brace himself for the blow, for the next taunting laugh, for the next something that is going to make Yeosang curl up in on himself and wait for something to kill him before the embarrassment swallows him whole, Mingi lets out a gentle chuckle. “Well, he could have at least given you something a little more challenging to do.”

 

Wait. What?

 

Yeosang’s mouth is slightly agape in shock as Mingi is now closer to him, the closest that they have ever been before. He smells like something expensive, but it’s something that Yeosang wants to put his nose into and keep it there. He’s never felt his stomach do long swoops inside of him at the thought of a man’s smell, but it’s so characteristically Mingi with the sharp hits of cedar and musk.

 

He had to be dreaming up Mingi’s response. There’s no way it was going to be that easy!

 

“I… Really?”

 

“If it’s your job on the line, I don’t see why not.”

Yeosang has a hard time looking Mingi in the eyes, his head casting down to look at the toe of his boots that are swaying from the bar stool. “But that would mean that we would have to have proof. He would never just take my word for it–”

 

“Then why don’t you let Daddy take care of it all then?” Mingi takes off the leather jacket that he had put on, thinking that he was going to just give Yeosang a ride home and call it a night. It was definitely worn in and cracked at the elbows and towards the outer blades of his shoulders. He lays it out on the floor, grabbing Yeosang’s hand to help him down from the bar stool where he can’t help but look at Mingi completely bewildered about what was happening.

 

Well, since he’s gotten this far, he might as well play his role.

 

Yeosang slowly sinks his knees into the leather, feeling the crinkle of the fabric underneath him as he stares face to face with Mingi’s half hard bulge standing just above his nose. He can’t help but hold his hands behind his back, his eyes casting up with eyes just like a curious doe’s. Mingi has had a lot of hook ups in his life, ones that he doesn’t exactly make public to the world now that the rest of the dancers think of him as some sort of asexual, probably-not-gay sociopath. He has not, however, had someone look up at him from below him in a way that just begged to be taken advantage of. “Like this, Daddy?”

 

Oh, so apparently Yeosang just happens to be out of Mingi’s wettest dreams.

 

“Just like that. Such a good boy, Bambi.” His massive hand comes against his overly-blushed cheek, speckled with those white freckles to make him reminiscent of his animal’s namesake. Hell, Mingi didn’t even realize that he had put blush on his knees and elbows to really sell the doll-like look. Something that screamed to control him just how he pleased.

 

His thumb rubs his soft cheek, Yeosang leaning into his hot touch all without ever taking his eyes off of him. It’s obvious that Yeosang isn’t new around this type of area with how he was able to get down on his knees even with those insanely tall boots on. Yeosang leans into his bulge, pressing his nose against it to nuzzle it like a cat would push up against its owner. His tongue runs against the sharp edge of the zipper of Mingi’s jeans to feel the cold metal against it. It’s enough for Mingi to make a soft noise that gets Yeosang’s core hot.

 

Well, at least he won’t have to explain to Mingi that he’s a transgender man since he just has to blow him.

 

Mingi’s hand moves from his cheek to his soft, brunette curls, not necessarily grabbing them but gently rubbing his scalp. Yeosang grabs the zipper by the teeth, slowly pulling down just to hear the click of the zipper hit every single tooth of the track. Mingi has never seen anything hotter than this in his life.

 

Yeosang starts to leave open mouthed kisses along the rough material of his jeans, smudging some of his lipstick. He trails them along the front part of his thighs before wrapping his lips along the concealed bulge. Mingi can’t help but grab Yeosang’s hair a little harder. “Fuck, for someone who has his job on the line, you’re quite the tease, aren’t you?”

 

The dancer pulls away, bringing his hands from behind his back to start undoing the button on his pants. The pocket of his boxers sits against where the flaps lay open against his hips. “Might as well enjoy it a little, right, Daddy?” Yeosang resumes his work of leaving lipstick marks along the grey cotton of his briefs. His teeth sink into the waistband to drag it down, Mingi pulling his legs together a little so that his jeans fall down to his ankles with a soft clank. Yeosang uses the new surface area to yank his boxers completely down, his cock nudging him in the nose with a soft groan. He can’t help but look at it with wide eyes, swallowing hard at the anticipation of that thing filling out his throat. “Fuck, that’s big.”

 

Mingi lets out a soft noise mixed with an exhale. “Nothing you can’t handle though, right, Bambi?”

 

Yeosang shakes his head with a smile, large streaks of his lipstick across the corners of his mouth. He leans in to press his nose against the tight bush of dark curls just above his cock, where he grabs his dick to move it to the side so that he can continue the barrage of messy kisses along his groin. He stamps his lipstick in a way that Mingi can tell what he’s doing.

 

“So cute. Fuck, are you making sure that he knows that I’m all yours?” Mingi can’t help but tease.

 

The dancer pushes his face into the side of his cock, the size almost as tall as his head! He has a delirious smile on his face, precum and lipstick smeared across his mouth. Yeosang taps the bulbous head against his temple with a soft laugh, leaning in to press more of those hot kisses along the shaft of his cock. It’s cute how much makeup is getting stamped into his skin, a calling card for Yeosang.

 

Mingi points towards his jeans that lay like a puddle on the floor. “Will you grab my phone for me, baby?” After all, Seonghwa has to have proof that Yeosang is keeping up his end of the deal.

 

Yeosang makes a noise of determination, reaching behind him and kissing the side of his thigh as he finds his phone and a pack of cigarettes in one of his pockets. Yeosang soon comes back up, handing Mingi his phone as he slides it open on the camera and hits record, pointing it in Yeosang’s face. He angles the camera so that his kiss-covered cock is fully in view, hard and throbbing against the dancer’s head as Yeosang gives that sharp smile with the eyes again. Mingi can’t get enough of it.

 

“Tell him, Bambi. Tell him I’m yours,” Mingi commands, Yeosang moving his head so that he can run his tongue along the underside of his base from ball sack to tip. He lets the head lay still against his flat tongue, wrapping his lips around the cockhead for a moment before leaving a wet kiss to his slit.

 

“He’s mine, Vixen. Daddy’s cock is mine. ” Yeosang keeps his eyes set on Mingi’s camera as he starts to sink down on Mingi’s cock. His lips are wrapped taut on the head, letting his tongue circle the pink skin that drools in his mouth that he swallows like he’s starving. Mingi lets out a moan that makes his head tilt back, his ringed hand grabbing Yeosang a little tighter by his hair. Yeosang makes a muffled groan against his cockhead, starting to work his head further down the length.

 

The musk of his cock makes Yeosang feel dizzy, almost like he’s getting high off of it. Sure, he’s sucked a guy off before, but nothing compares to the size of Song Mingi. He’s definitely above average but comfortably so. Still, Yeosang knows that his throat is going to ache by the end of the night and that he will definitely have a hoarse voice when he comes in for his next shift. He doesn’t fucking care. Anything to be able to keep his job right now.

 

Well, there’s the added bonus that Mingi has a cock that Yeosang is drooling over.

 

Mingi grabs the base of his dick, pushing it hard against Yeosang’s cheek until the skin distends. The camera is closer to his face now, where Yeosang can’t help but offer this look in his eyes that Mingi needs tattooed into his skull for the rest of time. “Say cheese, Bambi.” Of course, Yeosang doesn’t talk with his mouth full, but he does hear the camera shutter click before pulling back. Wet strands of drool break off from his cockhead before Yeosang wraps his hand around where Mingi holds his dick up.

 

“Come on, Daddy, let Bambi make it better,” he says so boldly, enough for Mingi to loosen his grip just as Yeosang asked him to. Yeosang folds his hands behind his back again, almost like he enjoys the challenge of taking Mingi’s cock in his mouth and keeping his balance while doing so. Either way, it’s enough for Mingi to twitch hard in Yeosang’s mouth that starts to take a little bit more of his length down his throat.

 

Yeosang thankfully doesn’t have the worst gag reflex. He makes it down about halfway before his throat closes up and his body coughs off up a little bit of spit and vodka. He’s not drunk by any means, thankfully. Yeosang pulls his head up, breathing heavily through his nose as his eyes flick back up to see Mingi with his head thrown back in a deep moan that makes Yeosang purr against his dick.

 

The hand that Mingi has in his hair slowly starts to tighten into his curls, his lips curling up in a smirk. “You look gorgeous down there, baby.” Mingi can’t help but snap another picture based on the use of the flash and the camera shutter clicking again. Yeosang likes the attention that he’s getting from this, knowing that the bartender finds Yeosang this attractive to keep taking pictures of him. Of course, he has to remember that this wasn’t an organic encounter and that he actually has something that he’s working for. It’s the reason that he’s on his knees against Mingi’s leather jacket, taking his dick like a champ.

 

Yeosang starts to move down again, feeling the veins in his neck pop as he feels another gargle crawl up his throat. He works past the initial discomfort of deepthroating the bartender, finally breaking his comfort level by burying his nose deep into the hot curls of Mingi’s bush with a wet cough around his length.

 

Just before Yeosang has a chance to pull back and take a breather, Mingi’s hips snap up into him, the dancer making a loud, wet noise that feels mixed with a moan and a cry for relief. His eyes squeeze shut from the sudden pressure filling his throat, the walls of it starting to massage the girth of Mingi’s cock with intention as he pulls his hips back.

 

Yeosang doesn’t get relief that quickly though when Mingi brings his phone back towards the cock-full dancer, his voice husky as he takes a good chunk of his hair in his hand. “Look at your Daddy, Bambi.” It’s a command that leaves no room to disobey, no room to question him.

 

Teary eyes soon come into full view of the video on Mingi’s phone. He can feel Yeosang’s hot breath against his groin as he tries to gather it back. The older boy can’t help but anticipate what’s about to happen, and for good reason. With Mingi’s hips already reared back, it’s easy for him to buck them back into place until Yeosang is eagerly taking his cock with wet clicks of his throat. The gags are loud and audible on the video, the perfect device for Yeosang to prove his point. Hey, at least he can’t say that it was AI generated or something.

 

Even with Yeosang’s crying, he’s enjoying every single second of being Mingi’s personal fleshlight. He can feel his body get lighter with the amount of air that he’s losing. One particular thrust leaves him choking, another glob of spit coating his dick as the bartender treats him like he’s nothing but a toy. Daddy’s toy. God, that’s got a nice ring to it.

 

Drool is starting to puddle against the distressed fabric of Mingi’s jacket, something that he had neglected to think about at the moment. It’s something that he could get dry cleaned anyways. What he could never replace was the sight in front of him. He can’t help but take more pictures as he feels the wetness starting to coat his thighs and his neglected ball sack that slaps just underneath Yeosang’s chin with every brutal jab against his pharynx.

 

When the pace suddenly quickens in both speed and intensity, Yeosang brings his hands from behind his back to grab Mingi’s thick thighs, squeezing them like his life depends on it.

 

“You take my cock so well, Bambi. It’s almost like you were made for it.”

 

Fuck, those kinds of words are starting to get to Yeosang’s head. The most logical explanation is that he is trying to gas him up on the video to further piss Vixen off. After all, their vendetta seems to be shared, which is why they are both in such a compromising position, after all. Maybe it’s Yeosang’s hopelessly romantic (not really the best word for this) thinking that makes him think that Mingi is saying it and meaning it. God, he wouldn’t mind only fucking Mingi if it means that he gets treated like this every night. However, it’s hard to think of what he would think about Yeosang being a trans guy. There’s some gay guys who feel threatened by people like Yeosang, something about the fragility of their sexuality or whatever. It’s why Yeosang didn’t exactly leave it on his resume and keeps his social media private in case anyone at the club did find it. He was not going to be outed outside of his own terms.

 

Thinking about that is quite the turn off though.

 

At the high praises, Yeosang’s eyes open again, wide and watery with tears. It looks like his mascara wasn’t waterproof with the black-brown streaks running down his freckled cheeks. Everything about his face is messy and smudged and Mingi wouldn’t have it any other way. Still, Yeosang decides to reward Mingi for his willingness to do something as crazy as this by reaching underneath his cock, placing the part of his hand that connects his thumb and index finger against his ball sack and using his fingers to lightly massage one of them.

 

It seems to be enough to start Mingi up and over the edge of the cloud that he’s currently on. His thrusts start to get a little more erratic, Yeosang’s throat screaming for a break that it won’t get just yet. He can feel just how far out his jugulars have extended just from the extreme pressure of his cockhead slamming against his uvula like it was a punching bag. He’s thankfully gotten over a good portion of the gagging, but it’s still not enough to get him to stop choking every now and then.

 

“I’m going to cum so fucking deep in this throat cunt of yours, Bambi.” Yeosang can feel how Mingi’s balls tighten in his hand, trying to will his body to prepare itself for what was about to be shot down it.

 

With a guttural moan that feels like it came straight out of his stomach, Mingi’s nails dig into Yeosang’s scalp until he whimpers from the stinging pain. It doesn’t compare to the hot load being pumped down his throat as Mingi stills his hips. Yeosang can only breathe in hot musk and sweat as Mingi’s balls empty out. The taste is heady and bitter but Yeosang feels like he’s in the kind of position where he can’t just spit it out.

 

Mingi feels his swallowing hard around his cock, his throat walls massaging every drop of cum out of him like it is second nature. When he feels the flow start to taper off, Mingi yanks Yeosang off of his cock, where he coughs up a wad of spit on the ground but giggles like a maniac as the camera is shoved back in his face. His cheeks are red and his makeup is fucked to shit, but he looks like the happiest person ever.

 

“Show him how much you love Daddy’s cum, hm?” Mingi pulls his face closer to the camera, where Yeosang wordlessly drops his tongue, his eyes still glued onto Mingi with a fucked out look stuck in them. Not a drop remains, not even on his lips or cheeks. Mingi knows that Seonghwa is a spitter, Hongjoong was the one that told him. Seonghwa is too much of a princess in an unproductive way to have the kind of sex that he wants. It seems he finally found his match in Yeosang.

 

Once the show is over, Mingi finally stops the recording, placing his phone face down on the bar as he grabs a stack of napkins from the bar. “Do you need help up, Bambi?” He offers his hand for him to have leverage to stand up.

 

Yeosang’s chest is still heaving from how he had been choked off for so long. He smiles up at Mingi, taking his hand and relying on the bartender’s strength to pull him up. He wobbles a little from being on his knees for so long, where he sees some of the blush from his knees on the inside of the leather jacket he was kneeling on. Mingi is there to keep him stable as he slowly rises. “Thanks. Those heels can be kind of a bitch to stand back up in.”

 

Mingi offers a gentle nod of affirmation before he picks his pants back up to tuck himself into them. He ignores the sticky feeling in his boxers now that the spit is starting to dry down. “So, what was the bargain anyway? Surely it wasn’t just fuck me or quit, right?”

 

“No, no. They’re going to cut me twenty-five percent of their tips.” He leaves out the part where he made Seonghwa agree to be nice to him if he could succeed. Something about it felt more childish than he wanted to admit. Yeosang scratches his head as he reaches over the bar to use the hand sink to wet the napkins in his hand. “It was kind of stupid for me to agree, wasn’t it?”

 

Mingi offers a soft laugh, grabbing the napkins from Yeosang to gently wipe his face. He tries to clean up as much of the messy makeup as he can, realizing that it’s only getting worse. “This isn’t getting much better.”

 

Yeosang chuckles, taking the napkin away from his face. “It’s not going to. I need a cleanser. Water is just gonna keep smearing it.”

 

“Well, you got lucky with me. I love to get back at Vixen any day of the week,” he says, but it’s obvious that there is sarcasm in his tone. At least the second part. Mingi doesn’t make it his life mission to get on Seonghwa’s nerves, it just tends to happen that way. He seems to have gotten on his bad side when Mingi rejected a hook up or two… hundred.

 

Yeosang lets out an awkward laugh. “Yeah. I was worried. They said that you didn’t exactly like dancers.”

 

“No. I don’t like them. They just happen to be dancers. You doing okay there? Do you need me to–“ His eyes flick down to where the packer offers a gentle bulge in his shorts.

 

Yeosang’s eyes widen, his body turning to the side out of slight embarrassment. He wasn’t expecting a double sided favor, and he would be just fine taking care of it himself at home. He isn’t ready for Mingi to know. “I… No! It’s okay! I uhh… I can do it myself! Yeah!” He puts on a slightly gruff voice that doesn’t match his face at all, hoping to prove to Mingi that he is a man who will jack off in the comfort of his own bed without problem.

 

He can tell that Mingi isn’t buying it, but he’s not pushing it.

 

“Well, now you definitely aren’t taking the subway home,” Mingi takes the napkins away from his face, depositing them in the trash as he grabs his jacket off of the floor to fish for his keys. Yeosang blushes hard at how wet some areas are with his drool. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

 

Yeosang softly nods, following Mingi towards the front of the club where he twists the key in the lock. “I hope you’re going to get that washed,” he says, pointing towards the heap of leather against his arm. 

 

Mingi looks down at it with a shrug. “Probably. It’s definitely seen a lot worse though.”

 

They weave their way back towards the alleyway, a small strip of road connecting the street where Mingi’s car is the last vehicle left. It’s definitely a Mingi car with the all black body and frame that screams luxury. Yeosang feels like he shouldn’t even touch it! Mingi can see how Yeosang can’t help but gawk at it, almost nervous to approach it.

 

“She won’t bite you. She’s pretty though, isn’t she? She’d look even better with a prettier boy in her front seat.” The flirting definitely gets Yeosang’s face a bright red that burns through his pink blush. 

 

He unlocks it with an enthusiastic chirp, making his way in front of the dancer so that he can open the door for him. Yeosang offers a small “thank you” before ducking under to get settled in the passenger seat.

 

He can see in the side mirror just how much of a wreck that he looks. Yeosang can’t help but let out a gasp at the sight as Mingi joins him in the driver’s seat.

 

The car purrs to life, the console in front soon welcoming Mingi in for his next destination. “You can just put your address in.” Yeosang does as he’s told, punching in his complex number before the car determines the route. Yeosang suddenly feels a soothing heat on his back, realizing that the seats are heated. He can’t stop himself from melting into the firm leather, already feeling the dull aching in his throat from earlier.

 

God, he can’t believe that he’s in the same car as the guy that just throat fucked him ten minutes ago.

 

The car ride is filled with the soft hum of the Jaguar’s engine and the quiet volume of some heavy song full of guitars and drums and someone screaming their heart out, the same music he was listening to earlier before opening. Mingi keeps his hand on the steering wheel, eyes on the road. “How are you liking Itaewon so far?”

 

“Huh? Oh, I like it! It’s a different kind of night every night. I like the variety. You’ve been here pretty long though, huh?” Yeosang’s voice is definitely starting to take a dip in terms of quality. He clears it trying to get some of the raspiness out of his voice.

 

Mingi shrugs. “I think like five years or something. I live relatively close to Hongdae. So the commute isn’t awful.” He looks down at the map to see the destination. “Bucheon, huh? No wonder you’re always looking at everything with–“

 

“Doe eyes?” Yeosang finishes for him. “I think it suits me. With my stage name being Bambi and all. My real name is Kang Yeosang though.”

 

Mingi makes a soft noise, almost like a cheer of triumph. “Finally. I was wondering if I was ever going to get to know. Yeosang.” Mingi feels the syllables out on his tongue, liking the way that his name tastes in his mouth. “Some of the dancers that have come and gone don’t tell me their real name ever. I usually find out by accident, but they’ve been really good about making sure I never heard Kang Yeosang out of their mouths. It’s pretty.”

 

Yeosang wonders how such a thing could be possible, to keep your real name private for such a long time. Then again, it sounds like the turnover rate isn’t exactly the best at SKIN thanks to their dictator of a lead dancer. “I like to think that I’m not like the other ones. Figured now would have been a good time to tell you.”

 

“Definitely not with my dick down your throat, right?” Mingi says, unable to help himself from a little bit of teasing. It seems to make Yeosang let out a soft whimper but he is by no means upset by the question.

 

“Yeah. Definitely not that.”

 

The rest of the car ride is full of lighthearted conversation. Yeosang asks about Princess, which Mingi can’t help but brag about his little angel. Mingi asks if Yeosang had any pets growing up, to which he had a maltese named Stardust. She isn’t with them anymore, but he tells Mingi about how his parents are currently raising a herd of goats. He asked Yeosang how he transitioned from milking cows to milking men for their retirement plans.

 

“I don’t know. I didn’t really grow up dancing or in like a dance team. I would watch videos sometimes of pole dancers, wondering if I could do that. We had this metal pole in the corral that some of the ranch hands would use for lasso practice, and I thought I would give it a shot. Landed flat on my ass more times than I could count. Honestly, I thought my parents were going to kill me when I told them that I wanted to move into the city and do this for a living.” He was also scared to tell them from a very early age that he was not the daughter that they thought that they had. “They’re very supportive though. They like to let me feel out the world.”

 

Mingi nods as Yeosang regales in his experience. “So SKIN is your first gig?”

 

“Mhm. Aside from everyone hating me there, I kind of like the job. I’m shocked that I even made it past auditions, but Hongjoong apparently likes me a lot. At least from what I’ve overheard.”

 

“Oh, he does,” Mingi affirms. “Hongjoong doesn’t usually sit in on auditions, actually. He usually just lets Seonghwa determine who is good enough since he’s been doing it for so long. He’s been dancing since he was a kid. His mom enrolled him in ballet and he would throw these massive tantrums about it. His friends thought it was gay of him to participate, so he kind of festered this like… internalized shit about himself. Now that he’s older and he knows what he wants, he’s kind of using that pent up anger on everyone else. But Seonghwa is good at what he does, nobody can deny that. He just… needs to get the stick out of his ass.”

 

“Do you know Seonghwa that well?”

 

Mingi clicks his tongue. “Nah. Hongjoong and I have been friends since we were kids. I know Seonghwa by association, but Hongjoong doesn’t exactly know how to keep his mouth shut.”

 

It definitely makes a little bit more sense for his behavior, but it would never excuse it. The drive is thirty minutes from Itaewon now that the traffic is dead. At one point, Mingi’s car is the only car that’s on the road and he’s able to go slightly above legal speeds. He can’t help but admit that he’s a little bit tired himself and that it will be a forty minute drive to come back to Hongdae. Eventually, they end up at the small district of Yeosang’s complex, where he rolls the window down to punch in the gate code to pull into the parking garage.

 

Yeosang directs him to the elevator that gets him to his side of the complex before he parks in front of the entrance. “Well, this is me.” He takes off his seatbelt, opening the door before looking back at Mingi. “Are you going to send me the videos for Vixen?”

 

“I’ll do you one better.” Mingi grabs his phone from where he had it in the cupholder, sliding open to Vixen’s contact that is just his full name. He attaches one three minute clip and three additional pictures: one with his cock on the side of his head, one with Yeosang completely buried to the hilt on him, and the last one being where his tongue was hanging out to show that he knew how to clean up his mess. “There. It will be even more believable now that it’s from me, don’t you think?”

 

Yeosang can’t help but feel the heat rising on his face at the thought of Seonghwa opening his phone in the morning to see the dancer that he wanted gone getting his throat stuffed with hot bartender cock.

 

“Thank you for tonight,” Yeosang says again, offering a bow that feels too formal for the situation.

 

Mingi can’t help but snicker, looking at Yeosang through his glasses. Did he have those the whole time? “Did you just bow?”

 

“I… wasn’t sure what else to do.”

 

Mingi just smiles back at him again, putting the car back in drive before giving Yeosang a short wave off. “I’ll see you soon, Yeosang.” There’s something about the way that his voice comes out in a soft purr that makes the dancer feel weak in the knees. Just thinking about the mess that’s in his shorts right now is the reason why he wants to book it into his apartment the moment that Mingi leaves. He turns back into the street, the gate pulling back as he starts the long trek back to Hongdae with himself and his music for a while.

 

Yeosang places his phone on do not disturb, unsure of the firestorm that he just started. Right now, he’s looking forward to a quick orgasm and a long sleep.

Chapter 3: now they hooked, no program

Notes:

Betaed by @fucksjuyo on twitter.

When Yeosang woke up around late afternoon, his throat still tight from the night before, he was both excited and dreading his shift later tonight. He pounded down a glass of water after getting out of bed, still feeling the soft thrum of his vibrator-induced orgasm from around four am when Mingi got him back home. The warm shower helped his sore muscles recover, especially his knees. He downs some painkillers and a cough drop for his throat, cooking up an early dinner to get ready for the night ahead of him.

 

He didn’t have many contact numbers from the other dancers, but he knew that they would have found Yeosang’s social media somehow. They were looking for answers, no doubt. When he opened Instagram, he found his follower requests full of every dancer except Vixen. He declines all of them and takes a bite out of the salmon rice bowl that he needs to recover. The one person that he wanted to have in his inbox was Mingi, since he was stupid and didn’t think to grab his phone number.

 

However, he was nowhere to be found and he was impossible to look for. None of the dancers were following him either, so Yeosang just assumed that he was a ghost.

 

Trying to occupy his mind, he decides to fold some laundry, finding the sheer maroon bodysuit that he wore to his audition in the middle of the stack. He hums to himself for a moment, getting up to open his closet and find a pair of leather micro-shorts with two straps on the sides. As he starts to formulate an outfit in his mind, he reaches into his accessories drawer and finds a color of a similar color, a chunky one with small spikes running along the leather that feels heavy in his hand. There’s a ring to attach a leash to it, which is just what he does.

 

He slips his new show outfit in his backpack, alongside a cherry scented perfume and bedazzled red stockings. Yeosang decides to wear the same boots as last night.

 

The subway ride takes a little bit longer, at least in Yeosang’s mind. Maybe it’s the anticipation for what’s about to happen when he gets to SKIN. How many eyes will be on him. How many questions people will ask. How pissed Seonghwa is about to be when he realized that he couldn’t get what he wants like he always does.

 

For once, the attention isn’t going to be on Vixen again.

 

Yeosang thinks about the clothes in his bag, realizing that it is a very Vixen-esque outfit. He doesn’t care at this point though. After all, Seonghwa will have to keep up his end of the deal thanks to fulfilling his promise of getting into Mingi’s pants. He finally gets to the bus station, taking it three stops down where Jongho is already waiting outside. Well, if Seonghwa knows  then he probably told Wooyoung, who then probably told Jongho.

 

God, gay people are the worst.

 

He doesn’t get his ID this time, just walking past Jongho without a word. “Hey!”

 

Yeosang freezes, slowly turning around to see Jongho with his arms crossed over his chest. “Y-Yes, Bear?”

 

“You’re not going to say hello to me?” It’s true that Jongho greets Yeosang every shift. He was so in his head that he wasn’t thinking about it.

 

“S-Sorry. Hi, Bear. It’s nice to see you.”

 

Jongho offers a gentle smile, something that Yeosang doesn’t exactly see often with how cold-faced he is as the lead bouncer. He never realized how gummy his grin is, and it’s something that Yeosang finds a slight comfort in. “Good luck tonight, Bambi.” He offers a nod before looking back forward with his hands held together in front of his body.

 

Fuck, Jongho definitely knows.

 

Yeosang lets out a sigh as he takes a beeline to the bathrooms, thankfully not seeing any dancers in his path. He can hear “Mr. Brightside” from the club speakers since Seonghwa always has aux. It seems like the mood for this shift has already been determined whether Yeosang likes it or not. He locks the door so that no one can burst in on him while he’s changing. He trades out his loose, black T-shirt and jeans for the bodysuit, looking in the mirror at how the cut fits against his groin and hips. He has a lacy black pair of panties on for his safety, especially since he needs something to keep the packer in. He adjusts the silicone until it sits comfortably in the pouch of his body suit.

 

He slips the shorts on but he feels like they’re digging hard into his ass. He will get used to the discomfort at some point in the night. Seonghwa’s anger, however, he will not.

 

With a quick once over in the mirror, he hears a knock at the door. “Hurry up, I need to take a piss.” That’s definitely Wooyoung’s voice. Yeosang sighs in defeat, regathering his daily clothes to stuff into his backpack. He can do his makeup in one of the dressing rooms. He unlocks the door, swinging it open.

 

Wooyoung is not wearing anything. Well, he’s wearing a hot pink, leopard print jock strap, but quite literally nothing else. Yeosang can’t help but look at the soft bulge poking out of the fabric. Of course, he probably shouldn’t have done that. “What are you looking at, perv?”

 

“Nothing! Sorry, here, it’s free now,” Yeosang says as he steps to the side so that Wooyoung can get out of his face.

 

The younger dancer softly giggles. “Tsk, slut.”

 

Here we fucking go.

 

Yeosang knew that even if he got the task done, he was going to face scrutiny. It’s interesting for guys working in a gay club that is very well known for their sex culture to have the audacity to slut shame Yeosang, but the club employees have a little bit of a bias. Well, more so they have to agree with their dictator, Seonghwa. Yeosang sets his jaw firm as the door slams with a click of the lock. Whatever.

 

He makes his way back to the dressing room, seeing that all of the dancers are whispering amongst themselves. Yeosang can hear the chatter, about the fact that Yeosang called Mingi “Daddy.” How he’s a swallower. How Mingi’s cock is made for Yeosang. He keeps his head up though, not seeing the reason to feel ashamed when he was able to get into Mingi’s pants before Seonghwa ever could. Speaking of, he doesn’t seem to be around right now.

 

Yeosang puts his makeup bag down, starting on his black and red smoky eye look. He made sure to do his base at home so that it could really set in. However, he can feel the eyes on him with every stroke of his brush until he hears someone giggle.

 

“Like this, Daddy?” The entire room erupts in childish giggles that make Yeosang’s eyes narrow in the mirror. So much for Seonghwa keeping his end of the bargain of being nice to him.

 

Yeosang just reaches for his phone, playing his comfort album of Electra by Marina and the Diamonds, not caring that it isn’t loud enough to dampen the sound of Seonghwa’s own music on the speakers. It’s enough for Yeosang to regain control of the room, even if they keep talking like mosquitoes in the summer with their high giggles and occasional “Daddy” mentions.

 

Spraying a liberal amount of setting spray on, he is about to address the elephant in the room when he hears the room get quiet.

 

“Bambi!” The dancer can’t help but turn to whoever calls his name, seeing that it’s Hongjoong waiting for him. He saunters up to him, pulling him in for a tight embrace before kissing both of his cheeks. “Are you the gal that I want to see!?” Yeosang knows that he calls them by feminine pet names. He knows Hongjoong doesn’t mean any harm in it, being that he has no idea that Yeosang is in no way a woman now.

 

“Yes, Mr. Kim?”

 

“Ah, ah!” He waves his hands around, his eyes concealed by sunglasses almost as big as his head. He has a newsboy cap adorned by big chunky charms that just barely cover his bright red hair. He has an oversized pinstripe blazer with all sorts of random patches sewn into it. Yeosang sees that there’s a crudely drawn one for SKIN on the breast. “None of that mister shit!” Hongjoong always acts like he’s several drinks in, but he’s completely sober right now. He places a hand on Yeosang’s shoulder. “I had a chat with Vixen.”

 

Yeosang’s heart drops into his ass. Oh my God. He’s going to get fired. Why would he ever take Seonghwa’s word for a genuine reason!? Fuck, he’s screwed! He just jeopardized his entire life over a bet that was sabotaged from the beginning!

 

“He’s not happy ‘bout it. But for you , my friend, I don’t care what Vixen thinks. This is my bar, and you have a talent that is about to put SKIN back on the map!” He claps his hand against Yeosang’s shoulder, the dancer flinching from the suddenness. He can see that the other dancers are just as confused as he is. “You’re going on the main stage tonight.”

 

Wait. What?

 

Yeosang expected to do some basic floor work today, maybe score a platform now that he seems to be in Hongjoong’s good graces. “Me? A-Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to take that from Vixen.”

 

“Who gives a shit what he thinks!? Your contract ain’t his, it’s mine. And I want to see you work that main stage again and so does every-fucking-one else! The whole scene is talking about you and they want more! ”

 

Yeosang bites his lip. “With all due respect, sir, I don’t have anything prepared.”

 

Hongjoong waves his hands again. “Never say never, my friend! You can do whatever you want up there! You just tell us what you want to dance to and we can prepare it. But they really like how you worked that pole and the tips are going to fly high for you! And after all, I’m your boss and you can’t say no.” His smile seems almost too big for his face as Yeosang swallows on the notch in his throat. “Great! I’ll see you up there at eleven!”

 

He gives a two finger salute, turning on the heel of his boot just as Seonghwa comes in. Oh, Yeosang has never seen his face turn sour so fast. Yeosang grabs the collar out of his backpack, securing it around his throat as he faces back towards the mirror like he didn’t just see him with a nasty scowl.

 

Seonghwa waits until Hongjoong has completely left the room before coming behind Yeosang, his eyes staring at him through the mirror. Seonghwa seems to be in a similar outfit as Hongjoong, wearing nothing but a pinstrip corset belt that wraps around his lithe waist. His nipples are perked up from the air conditioning, but Yeosang swears that he sees metal bars through each bud. It wouldn’t surprise him. He’s got on a black mini skirt that leaves nothing to the imagination, something that he definitely didn’t expect Seonghwa to wear after what Mingi told him last night. He’s got miscellaneous chains and buckles in places and those knee high boots that look like you could break more than just an ankle if you make a wrong move.

 

“Hello, Bambi,” he smiles, a look that sends Yeosang in a state of unease.

 

Yeosang keeps his shoulders firm and square, trying not to look as small as that glare makes him. “Vixen.”

 

Seonghwa softly tuts and he expects him to say something, but he just bumps his shoulder into Yeosang to pass him. No way, there’s no way that that’s all that Seonghwa is going to do to him.

 

“That’s it?” Yeosang says, standing up from his chair to turn towards Seonghwa who is about to disappear into his private room, most likely to touch up his makeup. It certainly looks like he’s been… crying? No, that definitely can’t be right.

 

Seonghwa doesn’t turn towards him, stopping in his tracks when he hears the younger dancer address him. “Is there something you want me to say?”

 

At first, Yeosang wasn't sure what to say. What would he want Seonghwa to say? Part of him doesn’t feel satisfied by the silence, but maybe he should just play it safe and back down. There are too many eyes watching him and he doesn’t want to make a scene. Even though Seonghwa loves to publicly humiliate him, Yeosang isn’t that kind of person.

 

“Nevermind,” he concedes, just sitting back down in the chair as Seonghwa makes a soft noise of affirmation, making a show of slamming the door behind him.

 

Fuck, it’s going to be a long, long night.

 

About a good half hour later, the doors are opened and Yeosang can’t help but want to rush to the bar to tell Mingi about what is about to happen tonight. Hongjoong told the other dancers to leave the front left platform just for Yeosang, so it remains empty for now. Surely no one will mind if he talks to Mingi for a second.

 

He’s flanked by Wonho tonight, who looks at Yeosang with incredulous eyes. He has on a blue football jersey cut off high just above his sternum. “Mingi!” Wonho pours out a good line of shots as Yeosang makes his way over to the bar. Immediately, Mingi tosses up the fruity concoctions onto the bar that a group of girls grab. He definitely has a little bit of pep in his step as he makes his way over.

 

“Bambi. How lovely to see you again,” Mingi can’t help but tease based on that grin.

 

Yeosang’s blush is a nice shade of red along his temples, avoiding the rosy patch just underneath his eye that he’s packed highlighter on. “Mingi, there’s something I gotta tell you.”

 

He softly chuckles, grabbing someone’s order mid conversation. Yeosang isn’t offended or anything, he knows that he has a job to do, it’s what he gets paid for. Yeosang should probably hustle over to his platform and do his own job. “Oh yeah? What’s that, baby?”

 

“Hongjoong said that they liked me so much that he was giving me the main stage tonight! Can you believe it?” Yeosang can’t help the excitement in his voice despite his initial hesitation earlier. It really is a big deal, especially for someone who hasn’t been doing this long.

 

Mingi can’t help but whistle as he reaches for a shaker to start making an order to keep his hands busy in case Hongjoong makes some rounds. “As expected. About time he realizes real talent around here.”

 

Yeosang shrugs, tapping his fingers on the bar. “I wouldn’t say Vixen isn’t untalented though. Should I feel bad? He’s not talking to me much.”

 

“And you want him to?” His eyebrow cocks up high.

 

“He’s not keeping up his end of the deal,” Yeosang mumbles. He only told Mingi about the financial part of the bargain, worried that the bartender would tease him for the whole “hey, treat me like a human being part.”

 

Mingi slaps the top of the shaker on, moving it in rhythm against the side of his head. “Well, is it supposed to be the night’s worth or a week’s worth?”

 

Yeosang bites his lip, not getting a moment to answer before he feels his body collide with the lip of the bar. His head whips over his shoulder, seeing Seonghwa at his side with a wicked smile on his face. “Daddy, won’t you spare a girl some booze?”

 

Mingi’s face goes stone cold as he pours the liquid into glasses. “No.”

 

“Oh, c’mon, Daddy ! Don’t be like that!”

 

“You’ve already had two since your shift started and we haven’t even been open for an hour.” Mingi cutting him off isn’t out of the blue, but Seonghwa having two drinks in the first hour is definitely new.

 

Seonghwa tuts his tongue. “Oh, would you relax a little? I just wanna have a chat with our new starlet over here. You know, a talk with the girls?” Yeosang tries not to recoil at the thought of being called a girl. “You understand, don’t you, Bambi?”

 

Of course. He has to understand.

 

“I’ll make it quick. I know you’ve got a big show in a couple of hours. Just follow me back real quick.” Yeosang can’t argue with Seonghwa in such a public setting. He sees Mingi slide him a cloudy glass of something on the rocks that he takes back with him. As the route starts to become familiar, he realizes that Seonghwa is taking him back to his private dressing room. He’s never been here before, as it’s off limits to dancers without Seonghwa’s permission, and Yeosang would never receive that.

 

Yet, here he is, standing in a train wreck of a dressing room.

 

His standing rack of show clothes is tipped over on the floor, his shoes scattered outside of their pairs. Miscellaneous makeup products are strewn about every surface and he can see the word “WORTHLESS” etched in red lipstick on the mirror. Yeosang feels like he shouldn’t be here. Yet, he couldn’t say no to Seonghwa. He just wanted to have a chat, right?

 

“What do you want to talk about, Seonghwa?” Yeosang tries to keep his voice stable as he takes in the wreckage of his private dressing room. It feels like something sacred that he shouldn’t be witnessing, something more vulnerable than Yeosang could ever fathom of the more experienced dancer.

 

Seonghwa remains quiet, looking at himself in the vanity mirror, the same one with lipstick scrawled all over it. He seems to be mentally scrutinizing himself before the room is filled with his… laughing? Seonghwa laughs at himself, his eyes still glued to the ones in the mirror, Yeosang feeling something sinister crawling along his skin. Not actually, but something isn’t right here and based on Seonghwa’s reaction, he knows, too.

 

“You’re so cute, Bambi. You thought blowing him was going to count for something.”

 

Yeosang’s face twitches, his head tilting at Seonghwa’s statement. It seems to be that he’s referring to what happened last night. The deal.

 

“Wh– But… I slept with him. I did my end of the deal, you have to keep yours now!” Yeosang can’t help but get a little bit whiney, where he clears his throat to try and not seem so… weak. It’s the way that Seonghwa soon snaps his head to face him though and makes Yeosang feel the pit of his stomach burn hotter than the core of the sun. He should have known that it wasn’t going to be so simple, and Seonghwa is just proving that point now as he laughs at Seonghwa for just giving him a blowjob.

 

Seonghwa curls an eyebrow, folding his hands over his chest. “I thought I told you to get in his pants, not suck him like a lollipop.”

 

Yeosang can’t help but get a little bit red in the face in anger at the thought that oral sex wasn’t actually sex in Seonghwa’s eyes. He knows that he’s lying and that he doesn’t actually believe that. He just needed an excuse to taunt Yeosang more, to make him feel even more less than for only being able to get a blowjob out of Mingi.

 

“Look,” Seonghwa says, soon approaching Yeosang with the intimidation of a shark circling a school of fish, “I applaud you for somehow getting Mingi down like that, but everybody knows that a blowjob isn’t real sex!” He can’t help but giggle behind his hand, grabbing Yeosang by the collar threaded around his neck until Yeosang feels his airway get a little tighter. He whimpers out, breathing heavily through his nose. “I’ll give you another chance though. If you manage to sleep with him, dick in ass, I’ll give you half of our tips. And you can keep the main stage for the rest of the weekend. Honest.”

 

Yeosang is thankful that his heels give him the height boost so that he doesn’t drag his toes on the ground like the piece of meat that Seonghwa makes him feel like. His voice is slightly strained from being cut off by the collar. He should have known not to wear that, but he was feeling bolder. Braver. Seonghwa would never give him the comfort of having the upper hand though.

 

“Fine. Deal.” Yeosang can’t speak for too long with how his airway is slightly restricted.

 

Seonghwa soon puts him down, patting him on the shoulder with a sneer on his face. Yeosang gulps air in through his nose, looking at the smart look on the older dancer’s face knowing that he’s about to get what he wants. Just when Yeosang thought that the battle was over, it was just beginning.

 

There’s a knock at the door that makes them both turn towards it. “Vixen, have you seen Bambi around? He’s supposed to be on soon.”

 

“Yeah, I’ll let him know!” Seonghwa yells from inside of the room, looking down at Yeosang who has something set in his eyes. Determination? Fear? It’s hard to say. Either way, Yeosang knows that he is not only going to have to put on the show of his life but he’s going to have to convince Mingi to fuck him.

 

So much for coming out on his terms.

 

“Break a leg, Bambi.” Seonghwa opens the door, pushing against Yeosang’s chest to get him out of his room. He almost stumbles on those wobbly legs as Seonghwa smiles at him. “Might be your last.” With a loud slam of the door that practically shakes the walls, he’s left with their tech guy, Yunho, staring at him with confusion.

 

“Everything good, Bambi?” Yunho is a sweet guy from what Yeosang has seen. He is seeing one of the other bouncers, Jongho’s cousin, San (he prefers to go by Everest). He likes to have small chats with Yunho every now and then as he also came from the countryside into the bustling city. Turns out he could only stretch his capabilities as a light and sound designer so far in Gochang-gu before he felt like a bird in a cage. He was not going to let anyone clip him.

 

Yeosang just nods, keeping his head up. “Yeah. Everything is fine. Just guys talking.” He puts on a brave face, forcing a smile as he follows Yunho to the wing. “Let’s just make this count. I put a lot of faith in you, Yun.” He can see the soft blush on Yunho’s face at the high praises. Seonghwa usually barks orders at him, so the appreciation is a nice change of pace.

 

“Let’s look at your design then, alright? Hongjoong said it was freestyle so we go at your pace.”

 

After thirty minutes of running through a potential design and a couple of songs, Yeosang ends up with his final product. To think that he’s managed to pull all of this off without any rehearsals or any run throughs of the material at all! He can see the crew pulling over a strong metal pole to the center of the stage just for him since he’s apparently the most skillful with it. Yeosang starts to think of a routine in his head, making mock movements as Yunho shows him different placements and lighting cues.

 

“You gotta love Hongjoong,” Yunho teases, pushing up on one of the sliders for the lights strobing on the main dance floor. “Always doing shit last minute. You got this though. You’re gonna kill it. And you’re definitely going to get Mingi’s attention.” He can’t help but wink as Yeosang rolls his eyes.

 

“Jesus, does everybody know about that?” Yeosang can’t help but feel a little flustered knowing that the entire building knows about what happened here last night. He swears that he’s seen dancers swerving away from the area of the bar floor where his knees were sat.

 

Yunho turns one of the many dials on the board. “Nothing like that is ever a secret here, no matter how hard you try. And also…” The tech guy points towards a round, black ball in the ceiling by the corner of the bar. “Seonghwa has camera privileges.”

 

“Of course he does.” Yeosang sighs, realizing that if he’s going to try any sort of flirting tonight, he’s going to have to be careful. “Did he hear everything, too?”

 

“Nah, the cameras aren’t that advanced. Pretty sure the screen is black and white, too, Hongjoong doesn’t care that much. All he knows is what Mingi texted him.” Well, it seems like Yunho must have seen the video, too, based on that statement. At least Yunho doesn’t give him a hard time about it. “Anyways, you should probably gear up. Your show is about to start.”

 

Yeosang nods, making a mental note about the cameras before steeling his nerves. He wasn’t going to let Seonghwa and his rotten attitude take this from him. He earned this spot. He deserved it. Yeosang looked hot and he was going to prove it to everyone in the building, and he was especially going to make his case to Mingi.

 

Yunho grabs the microphone as he turns the thrumming music down. “Ladies and gentlemen, eithers or neithers, you saw his stunning debut last night and loved every second of it! Now you’re about to see him for all he is! Give it up for our starry eyed doe, Bambi!”

 

At the drop of the beat, Yeosang makes his way out onto the floor, a rhythm in the way that he steps. He knows this song by heart, it’s one of the first ones that he learned a real routine for. He modifies it enough to make it a little more risque than he usually does. In fact, he pulls out a folding fan with a fur trim, clacking it open to fan himself as he lets his legs do the talking. He soon curls it around the pole, taking a small spin to gain the crowd’s attention.

 

Well, it’s certainly got Mingi’s.

 

He is leaning against the bar, elbows against the bar top as he watches Yeosang fluff the fan in some people’s directions, earning some hoots and hollers from the front section as the crowd surges forward to get a better look. Yeosang tosses it to the side safely as he grabs the pole and tames it like it’s his bitch. He does maneuvers that the other dancers could only dream of doing. Even with the packer, he is able to flip himself with the core strength that the other dancers envy. Most of them only ever do floor work but Yeosang gets to do all of it.

 

His eyes meet Mingi’s for a moment, who watches through his sunglasses with a smile on his face. Yeosang winks back at him before spreading his legs and making his way around the pole. The song takes another tempo dip where he slides down the pole to sweep the floor with his ass. It’s enough to get the entire crowd screaming for him, for Bambi. Yeosang isn’t going to let this get to his head, but God, it’s such a good feeling.

 

When the song soon comes to an end, Yeosang is breathing heavily as he offers a high kick as his final move. The crowd goes completely nuts, applause and cheering filling the main floor. He can see Hongjoong out of the corner of his eye in the side wing, the other dancers unable to keep their eyes off of him even if they’re not supposed to. The lights soon dim as Yeosang soon makes his way off of the stage, seeing the crew behind the stage cheering just as loudly for him. “Oh, my star, Bambi! You are what is keeping SKIN alive!” Hongjoong is practically clapping the loudest.

 

“Thank you,” Yeosang bows out of gratitude and humility. So far, he hasn’t seen Seonghwa around and maybe he doesn’t want to.

 

Hongjoong wraps his arm around Yeosang’s back, his hand on his shoulder with a soft squeeze. “Go take a breather, baby, you’ve earned it!”

 

Yeosang nods, making his way back to the green room to take a breather for a while just as he asked.

 

Now all he had to do was figure out how to have sex with the bartender. Again.

Chapter 4: once i load, i shoot

Notes:

Betaed by @fucksjuyo .

The dancers are all still avoiding him like the plague, even more so now that Seonghwa has just been upstaged. Hongjoong has already left with Seonghwa, so he didn’t have a moment to see him after the confrontation in his dressing room. Just thinking about the mess that might still be in there makes him shudder. He can’t believe that something like taking the main stage would piss Seonghwa off so bad.

 

To think that he hated dancing before. Now, he couldn’t get enough of it. Every spotlight wasn’t bright enough for him.

 

Before Wooyoung leaves with the other dancers, he manages to grab Yeosang’s attention with a whistle. “Bambi!”

 

He turns around, wondering if maybe there is an olive branch being extended to him. He doesn’t see Mingi in the dish pit behind the bar. “Yes?”

 

“I gotta ask. How much did you pay him for the quickie anyways?” The other dancers can’t help but giggle like schoolboys telling dirty jokes. God, Yeosang should have known that it was going to be too good to be true when the dancers had been avoiding him all night and then they suddenly wanted his attention.

 

Yeosang feels a little bit of the high from the main stage still flowing through him. “I didn’t pay him a cent. It was his idea.” He smiles over at them just as Mingi emerges from the backroom, leaning against the bar.

 

“Don’t you five have somewhere better to be?” Mingi asks, where the dancers can’t help but feel a little bit flustered by the sudden confirmation from Mingi that he was indeed in on it. Not a single dollar spent, no barter, no nothing. All because Song Mingi can make his own fucking decisions and if he wants to fuck Kang Yeosang, then he will.

 

Wooyoung scoffs with a roll of his eyes. “Whatever, Daddy. I could probably get your dick wetter than he ever could.”

 

“You want to say that again, Wooyoung?”

 

The group of dancers turn around and find Jongho with his arms crossed over his puffed out chest, a cold look set in his face as he narrows his eyes at Wooyoung. Oh, Yeosang has to stop himself from laughing as Jongho growls. “Find your own way home.”

 

“Wait, babe, it’s not like that!”

 

The chaos of the other dancers soon follows after Wooyoung even though it’s not his business. Maybe it’s to be in any other room that doesn’t have Mingi in it. Yeosang can’t help but freely giggle when it’s just the two of them, Mingi chuckling with him. “Trouble in paradise now, I guess.”

 

“Mess with the Bear, get the claws,” Mingi comes out from behind the bar, his car keys already in hand. “Ride home? Or do you want to wait out the mess outside first?”

 

Yeosang bites his lip, remembering what he has to get done. He offers a soft nod, leaning his back against the bar. “What if… I have another hypothetical to ask you?”

 

Mingi stops in front of Yeosang, a look of concern on his face. Last time that he asked a hypothetical, it ended up with Yeosang’s throat full of cock and cum. Okay, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to entertain the thought of another “let’s say” kind of question. “Okay. Go on then.”

 

“So, let’s say…” he takes a deep breath, trying to figure out the best way to phrase this without sounding like the slut that the other dancers are trying to frame him as. “That Seonghwa wasn’t exactly satisfied with our performance.”

 

Mingi snorts a laugh, rolling his eyes. “Probably because he doesn’t like to get messy, the little fucking princess. One drop of spit and he’s squealing like an entitled brat.”

 

Yeosang shakes his head, unable to laugh at Mingi’s taunt just from the severity of what he has to ask. It feels a little embarrassing to ask so much of Mingi who doesn’t seem prone to sleeping around with the employees of the club like everyone else is encouraged to do. “It’s not that.”

 

“Oh, yeah? Then what is it?”

 

Yeosang swallows. “Well, he said that real fucking is what counts.”

 

Mingi’s keys drop to the floor with a metallic jingle that makes Yeosang flinch. Well, he certainly didn’t expect such an adverse reaction. “He said that, huh?”

 

All Yeosang can do is feebly nod. “B-But I don’t want to force you into something that you’re not comfortable doing! It’s not even that serious… being here.” The last part trails off, chock full of hesitation over the simple fact that if he can’t pull this off, he literally loses it all.

 

The bartender bends down for his keys, stuffing them in the pocket of his leather vest. Fuck, Yeosang has never seen Mingi’s tattoos up close, a spidering tribal running along his neck to spill down his chest. There’s a couple of things here and there, like a snake crawling up his forearm in a tight spiral. Mingi looks so massive when he’s close to Yeosang like this and he can’t help but look up at him with those doe eyes.

 

Mingi pushes Yeosang deeper into the bar top, keeping his stability with his hands gripping the lip of it as the bartender leans into it. “You don’t want to tell me that you want me to fuck you?”

 

“Well, no, I mean yes, I mean–“

 

Mingi grabs him by the collar just like Seonghwa did back in his dressing room, but instead of feeling guilt gnaw holes in his stomach, it’s hot arousal. There’s something about Mingi’s inked up, ringed hand in between the gap of damp skin and maroon leather that gets Yeosang excited. He pulls Yeosang towards him, his ear just close enough to feel his lips on the shell of it. “I don’t fuck boys who don’t want it.”

 

Yeosang lets out a gasp, his thighs pressing together to dull the ache between them. “B-But…” He swallows hard against Mingi’s fingers still holding onto him. “I do want it! I want it! I want you. ”

 

God, those doe eyes. Even if they’re begging for trouble, a little bit more corruption than Yeosang could ever bargain for, Mingi likes it that way. Yeosang’s entire face is as red as his blush as he looks up at Mingi with desperation seeping into his features.

 

Mingi yanks him up from the bar, pushing him hard against the wall where Yeosang forgets about the camera just above them. It looks like no one really learned their lesson last night and quite frankly, who gives a fuck? His back hits the hard surface with a soft “oof”, not getting much of a break with how Mingi is back to pushing himself onto Yeosang. “Daddy’s dick down your throat not enough? You need it in your tight ass, too?”

 

The thought of anything in his ass right now terrifies Yeosang. Still, he plays along as best as he can.

 

“N-No! I loved your cock in my mouth! I just… want to get fucked, too.” He puts those eyes back on Mingi, hoping that it’s enough convincing to get him what he has to get.

 

Mingi softly chuckles, his hand slamming against Yeosang’s head like a kabedon. It makes the older dancer squeak next to him but unable to tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him. “Let me ask you something, Bambi.” He leans back into his ear, leaving a kiss just below his earlobe. “Would you let me fuck you anyways?” Out of the whole appeasing Seonghwa’s sick fantasies kind of thing.

 

“Yes!” Yeosang doesn’t even hesitate on the answer. It’s no secret that he’s had thoughts like this alone in his apartment about Mingi, but it was never something that he was going to say out loud. The answer was practically waiting to spring off of his tongue. “Please. Forget about them, this is just for us.”

 

The bartender doesn’t mind that. “Then let’s show them, hm?”

 

Before Yeosang gets a chance to agree with a nod or a soft noise of approval, Mingi’s lips are already on his. Well, he definitely wasn’t expecting that. He didn’t hate it though. He gets a proper whiff of Mingi, a musky perfume, some sort of whiskey, and the stale scent of cigarettes coat him like a jacket. Yeosang’s eyes flutter shut as they start their kiss in a flurry of wet smacks, where Yeosang already loses the power struggle.

 

Not like he wanted to be there that long anyways.

 

He likes the way that Mingi kisses, in a way that makes him dizzy. His mouth starts to fall open just from the rough pace that the bartender sets from the get go. Yeosang feels like he’s going to fall over at some point when he hears their teeth clacking together from how hard Mingi is pushed up against him. When his tongue comes out to play, that’s when Yeosang really feels those wobbly knees from his namesake. He laces his arms around Mingi’s shoulders, trying to keep him impossibly close. He can’t fathom a single gap between them right now.

 

Their soft tongues rub together with a wet friction that makes Yeosang moan against him. Drool coats Yeosang’s chin as he works double time to try to keep up but it’s still not enough. It’s never going to be enough to keep up with the intensity of Mingi, but he loves how easily he can fall behind. He likes knowing that Mingi has the reins and has a grip on them so tight that he can see his knuckles turning white.

 

Out of his own need to start chasing pleasure of his own, Yeosang spreads his legs, pushing himself against Mingi’s thigh.

 

“Fuck, baby, we just started and you’re already hard?” Mingi says it through a breathy moan, his hand trailing down his chest to grab the bulge in his pants. Yeosang pushes his hips back against the wall, Mingi a little bit confused why he was avoiding his touch all of a sudden. “Do you not want me to?” That would surely defeat the purpose of what they were supposed to get done.

 

Yeosang bites his lip, a little bit nervous now that he realizes that now is the best time to finally tell him. After all, he was going to have to at some point. “No, i-it’s not that. It’s just… Well, that’s a packer.”

 

Mingi blinks up at him for a second, the only sound filling the silence being the whirring fan of the air conditioning. “A packer?” The bartender pushes his sunglasses from his face up on his head. Yeosang has never really seen Mingi’s eyes up close before. They’re rather small for his face, but he can see slight glimmers in them that Yeosang wouldn’t mind swimming in for a while. “I’m sure it’s not that small, but you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do, I guess.” He shrugs, trying to reinitiate the kiss but Yeosang pushes him back with a hand on his chest.

 

“No. No, Mingi, it’s because I don’t have one.” Yeosang feels his heart going twenty thousand miles a minute, hoping that by some stroke of luck, Mingi will still want him.

 

However, Mingi still isn’t getting it. “You don’t… have a dick?” He just thought the packer was so that he could overcompensate on the dance floor and seem a little bit more sexually appealing to the clientele of their club.

 

Yeosang nods quickly, but he’s realizing just as fast that he’s just going to have to be as straightforward as possible. “Mingi. I’m trans. I’m a trans man.”

 

The world stops spinning for a minute and it feels like Yeosang is holding his breath. Mingi lets out a soft gasp but doesn’t move away from Yeosang. He can see the dancer practically gnawing on his bottom lip like a chew toy just to keep himself busy. The last thing that he wanted to hear from Mingi is that he hated him. He didn’t want to do anything anymore because he was a threat to his sexuality (trust him, he’s heard it a million times during hook ups from bars and clubs before). He swallows hard when Mingi clears his throat.

 

“You’re still a guy though, right?”

 

Yeosang has a look of confusion on his face, but he offers a slow nod.

 

“Then there shouldn’t be an issue.” Once again, he tries to start the kiss again, but Yeosang can’t help but push him back.

 

He expected Mingi to whine about it, but his features remain soft and attentive. “So… you’re not upset?”

 

“If you’re still a guy, then I want you. I’m gay, not an asshole.” Well, there’s the confirmation that the whole club was looking for. Yeosang can’t help but stifle a laugh at the thought that Mingi could ever be anything other than that. He’s not a sociopath. He’s not asexual. And he’s certainly a homosexual. “But Seonghwa can see these cameras, so let’s not stay here too much longer.”

 

Yeosang offers another nod, not before yanking Mingi rather hard to almost collapse on top of him. “Just a little more now.”

 

Their lips crash back together, Mingi silently cheering at the way that Yeosang is finally kissing him again. To cut through the intense and masculine smell of Mingi, he tastes and smells like sour cherries in a good way, almost like a Lipsmacker scent. He also has the delicate scent of baby powder and a tinge of vodka. If Mingi had an opposite, it would be Kang Yeosang.

 

It’s maybe about ten more minutes of kissing and Mingi wanting to grab something but not necessarily having anything to grab (no offense, Yeosang) that he pulls away with a strand of drool breaking between them. Even in his heeled boots, Yeosang looks like he’s two inches tall underneath him. Fuck, the thought of Mingi fucking him makes him feel hotter between his legs. “Okay, I think that’s enough,” Mingi softly teases. “Come on, Bambi, let’s get you out of here.”

 

Yeosang isn’t sure if he wants to keep his stage name as Bambi anymore because now he isn’t going to be able to hear it without hearing it in Mingi’s voice and making him seep slick in his panties.

 

Mingi grabs his hand, pulling him off of the wall where they push open the front door to make it back to the bartender’s car, always the last one in the lot. The two of them fill the night with giggles like they were a high school couple, Mingi’s hand laced into Yeosang’s as he cautiously pulls him along so that he can keep up in his heels. There’s no cameras in the back of the alley though that Mingi is tugging him back towards.

 

It’s why he can’t help but already push right back on top of him, Yeosang meeting his mouth with another loud moan. Yeosang’s hands come up to scratch the exposed skin of his shoulders from his vest, the bartender groaning at the pressure as his tongue is quick to meet Yeosang’s own. The more that they kiss like this, the more that Yeosang starts to feel uncomfortable in his show clothes and is desperate to be freed.

 

Then again, the combination of panties underneath a bodysuit underneath a pair of leather shorts was already asking for some sort of trouble.

 

There’s something about knowing that Yeosang is hiding a pussy (should he call it that?) behind his packer gets him a little bit harder than he expected. Of course, he’s here to make Yeosang feel comfortable and if he doesn’t want it addressed at all and only wants his ass played with, Mingi can do that, too. With how Mingi is growing in his pants, Yeosang is starting to feel it and he’s aching to feel it inside of him.

 

Yeosang’s other hand that isn’t leaving red ribbons into his shoulders from his blunt nails is grabbing Mingi by his long black hair, his bangs overgrown and hanging off of his face and a little bit growing past the nape of his neck. It’s enough to grab and make Mingi see stars out of the dancer’s desperation. It’s hard to remember that they are doing this to keep Yeosang’s job with how quickly Mingi was able to get him pinned and practically eat him in one bite.

 

Even if the packer isn’t real, Mingi can’t help but grab the bulge, Yeosang’s imagination thinking it as him palming his soft mound. That’s what makes a moan pour down Mingi’s throat that he swallows up like it was sweet. Sticky like honey. They’re kissing like that for a while, maybe a beat too long, before Mingi feels a drop of water hit his head. He ignores it in favor of the treat in front of him but then there’s another. And another. And three more.

 

Mingi pulls away, looking up to see that the clouds have rolled over to cover the stars and rain is starting to spatter on his face. “See? I knew I was going to get carried away with you. C’mon, baby, let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”

 

Yeosang wasn’t going to argue with that.

 

They are able to get back into the Jaguar with minimal rain damage, Mingi more than Yeosang. There are a few drops beading from his bangs as Yeosang is quick to turn on the heated seat like he was a passenger princess. Prince? Oh, Mingi sure has a lot of questions about how to approach all of this now. He makes sure to wait a moment so that the heater has enough time to warm up for the amount of overtime that it’s about to put in.

 

Heading to Hongdae will be the fastest.

 

The streets aren’t as empty as the drive to Yeosang’s apartment as Hongdae is still a part of the city, but it isn’t as bad as it could be during peak hours. “So, can you give me some clarification on some things? So that we can be a little productive and do all of that not sexy talk now?” Yeosang can see the soft smile tugging Mingi’s lip. It’s a new territory for him, and Yeosang definitely finds it a little bit attractive that he wants everything to be comfortable for the dancer.

 

“Yeah,” he softly chuckles. “Probably best we do it now. What do you want to know?” He’s got an idea about a few questions, of course. The usual.

 

Mingi already starts with one of those. “How should I refer to your…” His eyes flick down to his groin, where blush seems to crawl up Yeosang’s cheeks. Mingi is able to keep his face pretty straight, but he wonders if he went too far calling Yeosang’s throat a cunt last night.

 

“Ah, well, you can call it whatever you want to. Pussy, cunt, anything you want to. I don’t really mind.” He can’t help but bite his lip, playing with the belt loop of his shorts. “What do you want to call it?”

 

“Mine.”

 

Yeosang feels his arousal gush out of him to stain his panties. His eyes are blown wide as his head whips towards Mingi, who is still and unmoving in his statement. He wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to blush any harder than he was, but here Mingi was, proving him wrong. “Y-Yeah, that works.” His legs spread a little bit to try and aid in his discomfort.

 

Mingi takes that as an invitation, a massive hand practically engulfing his milky white thigh with those chunky rings that are cold to the touch. Yeosang can’t help but make a soft moan at the sudden temperature contrast. He feels himself melting into the sweet touch.

 

“Does anyone else know?” It’s a good question, one that will determine the events of the evening.

 

Yeosang shakes his head. “No. Not anyone at the club, at least. And… I would like to keep it that way. Please. I mean, I don’t think you would say anything, but just in case.”

 

Mingi softly squeezes his thigh in reassurance, making the dancer gasp under his grip. “Fuck, no, never . We just have to be a little… creative tonight to show Seonghwa what actually counts, hm?”

 

Yeosang chews on the skin on the inside of his bottom lip. “Yeah. But… something tells me you’re good at figuring out how to be a little creative though. I trust you.” He looks back at Mingi, his eyes hooded and daring. God, how it takes everything in Mingi not to just yank the car to the side of the road and have his way with him right there.

 

Mingi softly chuckles, softly stroking the skin that’s exposed just below the hem of Yeosang’s micro shorts. He feels himself pushing deeper into his touch just on instinct, of knowing that he is so close to getting what he wants. Not Seonghwa, not Wooyoung, not any other dancer or bartender or tech guy or owner.

 

What Yeosang wants.

 

“That’s a good boy.”

 

Oh, Yeosang needs to get the fuck out of this car.

 

Mingi soon arrives, his Jaguar crawling into the street parking space marked just for his unit. The rain hasn’t gotten any more intense than when it started so that’s a bonus for them as Mingi comes around to let Yeosang out. They’re able to make their way to the lobby, waiting for the elevator to come down.

 

Yeosang looks down to see that their hands are interlocked together.

 

“I didn’t even ask. Is this okay here?” Yeosang comes out of his daydream, realizing that Mingi is asking if it’s okay to have sex at his house.

 

“It’s perfect.”

 

They soon ascend up the elevator, a quiet ride but full of tension. God, Yeosang can feel Mingi in his hand, how firm yet gentle his grip is. It’s hard to keep his hands to himself for much longer though. He remembers coming home last night, armed with the vibrator and the thought of Mingi’s cock inside of him. He has never had an orgasm as intense as the one last night just from masturbating!

 

“Don’t mind Princess. She will want to say hi,” Mingi reminds him. Oh, Princess! Yeosang is a little bit excited to meet Princess, the dog with the luxurious diet that Mingi uses the bar money to keep up with.

 

Yeosang giggles, his hand squeezing Mingi’s. “I’ve been so excited to meet her. I’m so honored.”

 

Mingi can’t help but chuckle, the elevator chiming now that they are on Mingi’s floor. He pulls him along to his unit, punching in the door code where he can hear a sharp yet low bark from Princess. It makes Yeosang flinch a little. “She’s not gonna bite you. Not unless you give her a reason to.”

 

He opens the outer door, seeing Princess through the window just next to the inner door. “Princess! Sit down.” Yeosang watches as a gorgeous, well-groomed Doberman obeys her owner’s command. There’s a cute, pink collar strung around her throat, most likely a matching tag with her name jingling from it. Mingi kicks off his boots, looking down at Yeosang. “Keep yours on.”

 

Oh, Mingi wants to fuck him like that.

 

The bartender opens the inner door, where Princess doesn’t move an inch until she’s been told. Based on her wagging tail though, she’s definitely resisting the urge to pounce on Yeosang and meet her new friend. “She wants you to say hi,” Mingi nudges Yeosang forward. Mingi sets Yeosang’s backpack down on the couch as Yeosang holds his hand out for her.

 

She takes a few sniffs, looking up at Yeosang before nuzzling into his palm. Yeosang can’t help but giggle at how cute the Doberman is despite her slightly intimidating appearance. “Hi, Princess.” She makes a soft noise of approval as Yeosang strokes her head for a few moments before she gets bored and walks off. Yeosang sees that she has her own room right by the front door, crawling into a bed with a soft huff. It looks like it was a former overstock pantry that Mingi decorated pink for her and called it a day.

 

“Told you. She’s only scary if she doesn’t know you. She’s a good girl.” Mingi wasn’t wrong. Now that the distraction of the dog is out of the way though, Yeosang can’t help but look back up at Mingi in anticipation. He can’t believe that he’s in his house right now, about to get fucked. God, way to state the obvious.

 

Mingi’s apartment is a palette of cool tones, a lot of blacks and greys. Yeosang wasn’t sure what he would expect out of Mingi’s house, but it definitely looked similar to this. Yeosang walks in further, hearing the way his heeled boots click against the hardwood a little louder than he’s used to. His kitchen is to the right, a little kitchenette that has a smart fridge, smart oven, smart microwave, smart any appliance. It has nice pigeon grey marble for countertops, cool to the touch as Yeosang’s eyes fall on the black leather swivel stools at the island. There’s a makeshift bar pushed against the wall on the island, something that Yeosang assumes that Mingi uses for practice and making new drinks.

 

The further he walks in, he soon meets the living room, where there is a luxurious black leather couch flanked by a matching armchair. It almost feels homey despite such stark colors adding a cold feeling to the room. There are shelves full of collectible figures and small trinkets to add some character. There’s a TV mounted to the opposing wall, one of those televisions that double as a mock painting with the nice black frame trim. It’s obvious that Mingi is made of money and he doesn’t care to hide it, but he’s a little bit more humble about it than his other rich friends, be it chaebols or old money like he is.

 

“I’ll take you back to the bedroom,” Mingi says, where Yeosang’s eyes snap back into place from taking in all of the features of Mingi’s apartment.

 

There’s only one picture in the hallway on the way to his bedroom: a family photo that is almost as big as the wall. There are four figures in the photo, only one of them Yeosang recognizes. An old man stands behind a chair, his hair a nice salt and pepper that shows his wisdom as opposed to his age, but the wrinkles set into his face easily give it away. He’s in a nicely tailored blue suit, a creme undershirt with it. There’s a dark grey tie threaded around his throat, something that doesn’t exude power but more respect. The colors of this photo aren’t sharp and intimidating, but the way that they stare Yeosang down make him feel slightly smaller than he is.

 

Next to him is a woman that looks similar in age to him. She doesn’t have grey streaks in her hair, but it’s easy to tell based on the splotch of black hair dye by her ear that she was overcompensating a little. She still looks a little younger though, maybe late forties. Instead of a dress though, she’s in a black pantsuit with a pair of blue suede heels that match her husband’s suit. It wouldn’t be Yeosang’s first choice, but the money talks for her. She has diamonds laced around necklaces, bracelets, rings. Even the rock on her finger practically glitters in Yeosang’s face. 

 

In a chair just under her is a boy with black hair similar to what Mingi’s looks like now. He isn’t in a suit but he has a dark blue collared shirt practically buttoned all the way up to his throat. He looks clean cut, not a hair out of place. Based on his face shape though, Yeosang assumes that this is Mingi’s brother.

 

Then there’s Mingi. He has startlingly platinum blonde hair in this one, cut short and buzzed at the sides. His black collared shirt is unbuttoned about three down to expose his chest and the hint of his tattoo on the right side of his chest. He still has all of those rings, all of those chains, it didn’t seem like a family picture was going to stop him. His legs are crossed, his ankle against his knee and his arms folded in front of him. Mingi’s stature screams rebellion, chaos, being above everyone else. He even had his makeup done in tight rings of eyeliner just to piss them off. Funnily enough, Princess is sitting right by his foot, fully seated and looking like she was ready to lunge at any minute.

 

Yeosang couldn’t turn his head away.

 

“That’s my brother, Minseok. Then my mom and my dad.” He stops when he sees Yeosang looking at him. “I think we took this when I was eighteen.”

 

“How old is Princess?”

 

“Oh, that’s not Princess. That’s Queen. Princess is her daughter.” Mingi softly hums. “I see where you get the confusion. Princess is only three.”

 

“They look so alike.”

 

Mingi softly chuckles. “She gets that a lot. Did you want a tour before or–“

 

“No.” Yeosang realizes how fast he answered. “I mean, it’s not like I don’t want to, it’s just… Well, I…”

 

Mingi just smirks again. “I got it. Just a few more steps back.”

 

When they finally reach Mingi’s bedroom, it looks pretty much how Yeosang pictured it. Black out curtains are pushed open to see the nighttime metropolis below them in twinkling lights and the stillness of it all. Even though Hongdae doesn’t exactly sleep at night, it feels colder than anything that Yeosang has seen before. The city is breathing but it’s slow. His bed is a queen since he didn’t need the opulence of a king, a black metal bed frame that looks more like a college dorm bed than something fancy. There’s pictures of him and his brother on the walls, some with friends. He sees one on his desk, a nice charcoal grey color that matches his sheets with a black PC monitor: it looks like a childhood photo of him and Hongjoong. It’s easy to tell who is who based on the height and the way Mingi’s eyes crinkle when he smiles. They’re covered in mud and matching soccer jerseys. “Is that Hongjoong?”

 

“Yeah. You can tell by the buck teeth,” he chuckles, but he grabs Yeosang by the back of his collar to keep him from wandering. “I’ll give you a tour later.”

 

He pushes Yeosang into the bed, rustling the grey sheets. He falls onto his back with a soft “oof”, Mingi soon crawling back up to cage him between his thighs. Yeosang looks up at him with those fucking doe eyes that makes the bartender want to rip this dancer to shreds. Mingi is latching his mouth back onto him just like he did in the alley, not having to worry about who was watching this time. His hair is slightly damp from the morning mist earlier, but Yeosang just pushes Mingi’s bangs out of his face before taking a hard grip of them.

 

Their heads tilt in unison, a synchronization that gets Mingi drooling into his mouth like a dog. It feels better to do this horizontally now, especially now that he can let his hands roam a little more.

 

He wonders if Mingi is going to regret making him keep his shoes on. Yeosang slings one of his legs around his waist, cinching him in like his belt with the heel of his stiletto digging into his back. It makes the most heavenly sound come out of Mingi that Yeosang wants playing in his ears at all times.

 

Mingi’s own massive hands find Yeosang’s waist, his thumb pushing against the exposed skin of his body suit. Yeosang makes a sound akin to a whimper against his mouth as he feels the bartender’s tongue against the roof of his mouth trying to get the taste of Kang Yeosang stuck in him forever.

 

That leaves Mingi’s cock pushing hard against his packer in a way that’s causing friction that he isn’t quite looking for.

 

“Mmf. Mingi.” Yeosang pushes against his shoulder, Mingi not leaning up until he puts a little more force into it. “This is a little uncomfortable for me. Can I take my shorts off so I can get there?”

 

Mingi makes a soft noise of realization when he sees Yeosang’s eyes dip towards his own groin, realizing that he needs to get out of that packer. “Oh! Yeah, sure, sorry.”

 

“Don’t be,” Yeosang softly smiles at him as Mingi brings himself up to stand at the edge of the bed as he watches Yeosang pull his shorts off. He sees the complicated part of wearing a bodysuit over a pair of panties. Black panties. The ones with a little red rosette on the center of them just below his navel. There’s a whisper of a happy trail leading down to it, Yeosang reaching between one of the leg holes of his body suit to try and free the packer.

 

Unfortunately, the material is just too tight on his body that the position is awkward and makes the task a little harder than it needs to be.

 

“I think I need to take my clothes off,” Yeosang softly chuckles, tossing his head back with a little bit of frustration in his voice. Mingi just rolls his eyes with a smile.

 

“All you gotta do is ask.”

 

Mingi pushes down the straps of Yeosang’s bodysuit where it starts to peel down like the skin of a banana. The moment the material reaches past his waist, Yeosang brings his legs up so that they can kick away the body suit. Mingi is left with Yeosang’s rather slim body, a tone of muscle in his abdomen. He can see the two, soft raised scars just below his nipples and a sharp tribal tattoo cutting into his hip down his thigh. Mingi’s breath hitches at the sight, seeing the cheeky cut of panties in lacy black. The red rosette adds such an innocent touch to it.

 

Mingi wants to eat him alive.

 

He lunges again, but instead of finding himself back on Yeosang’s mouth, his lips start to leave wet kisses along his neck. It makes a soft noise crawl out of his throat, a breathy moan that makes his back bow up into his touch. Now that the body suit isn’t as tight on him, the packer isn’t adding as much pressure. Still, Yeosang wants to be as bare to Mingi as he can.

 

“Fuck, Mingi, let me breathe,” he softly chuckles, pushing against him one more time. Mingi leans up enough for Yeosang to fish into his panties to yank the packer out, a flesh colored piece of silicone that just looks like a soft cock. Mingi didn’t expect anything else, to be honest. “Okay. There.”

 

Mingi didn’t need to be told twice. 

 

He keeps going with those kisses that he started to leave on his neck, Yeosang wrapping his leg back around the bartender’s waist to yank him as close to his bare body as possible. It’s been a minute since he’s had sex, but he isn’t a stranger to it. However, just thinking about taking a size like Mingi… if his throat was struggling, just imagine that inside of him.

 

“Fuck, how am I supposed to not want this all to myself?” he grumbles against his neck, his tongue running rampant along the soft skin slightly tacky with sweat from the show.

 

Yeosang’s giggle is punched out through a moan full of hot air. “You haven’t even seen it yet.”

 

“I don’t care,” Mingi almost growls, a sound that makes Yeosang push himself deeper into Mingi. The suddenness makes Mingi’s palm push into Yeosang’s chin, his fingers and thumb digging into his cheeks to hold him in such a demeaning pose. It’s such a shock that the bartender is still fully clothed and Yeosang is down to his underwear. “I want it between my fingers. I want it in my mouth, I never want to look away from it.”

 

Yeosang nods along as best as he can as Mingi is preaching to him, a gospel to a religion that he could definitely get behind. “Yes, Daddy.” He purrs it out as a way to rouse him, and he definitely gets what he wants.

 

Mingi pushes his head to the side, keeping his grip on the lower half of his face as he keeps kissing along his neck. While Yeosang appreciates how sweet Mingi is with the pace that they’re going at, he can’t help but start to get slightly impatient. Just when Yeosang is about to try and grab more, he feels Mingi’s teeth drag the skin between his teeth, making the dancer cry out from the sudden move. “Fuck!” He knows that he’s marking him. He didn’t expect him to mark him.

 

He’s not going to stop him.

 

“Daddy,” Yeosang lets out another breathy moan, his heel digging deeper into Mingi’s spine through his leather vest to the point that it makes the fabric creak.

 

Mingi’s hand holds Yeosang in that demeaning pose, moving him around how he pleases like he’s nothing more than a doll. A toy that can be positioned in any way for the type of pleasure that Mingi wants to feel. Yeosang doesn’t mind feeling like that, like he’s only good for Mingi’s pleasure. The marks are definitely going to get Seonghwa pissed, stamping his heels like a toddler having a tantrum. They aren’t doing this for Seonghwa anymore though.

 

Just the two of them.

 

His other hand comes down to press his palm against the clothed mound of Yeosang’s pussy, a motion that gets him to buck his hips like a bull. “Fuck, you’re so easy, Bambi. It’s a cute look on you.” Usually, being called easy is kind of an insult, especially if it was something that one of the dancers told him. Coming out of Mingi though, well, let’s just say that the wet spot against his panties might just be growing in size now.

 

His kisses are starting to trail down to his collarbones, a long trail of spit marking his path. There’s a strand of drool dripping out of his mouth to pool into the divot just below his neck and shoulder. It would feel gross in any other context, but Yeosang can’t take it anymore. “Fuck, Daddy, please do something.”

“Oh, so just because you need to get fucked, you think you can make the demands now? You’re not even out of your panties and you’re trying to get me to finger you stupid.” The tone in Mingi’s voice takes a sharp dip, something that makes Yeosang slightly quiver under Mingi. Fuck, he didn’t realize just how massive he is over him. Mingi is big all over with a wide build set in his shoulders that practically engulf the dancer.

 

Yeosang tries to pull the Bambi eyes, hoping that it’s enough to convince Mingi to finally do something for his benefit now. “Please, Daddy, please. It’s too much, please take them off.”

 

“I’ll say when it’s too much,” Mingi snarls, yanking Yeosang’s face forward until he hears his soft gasp and the way that his heart is practically stuck in his throat. “And right now, it’s not enough.” He returns back to his work on his collarbones, a myriad of red splotches following after his path. Some of them are starting to shift into deep purples and subtle blues, something that he’s definitely going to have to cover up before his shift later.

 

Yeosang tries to keep quiet and tries not to squirm too much. Whenever Yeosang tries to shift his hips into the way that Mingi’s hand is still pressed against him through his panties, a hand pushes down on his hip bone to get him to stop. It soon grows bored of keeping Yeosang pinned, going back to softly stroking the dips of his waist of his feather soft skin.

 

Mingi finally gives into his own desire, starting to shift down towards the center of his chest towards his belly. His kisses line the outline of his neo-tribal tattoo on his hip, his panties covering up where it dips down his outer thigh. The closer that Mingi gets to his pussy, the more that Yeosang feels himself losing breath in anticipation. His pants are hot and heavy and he’s not even being touched outside of Mingi’s mouth against his tepid skin.

 

“What’s the magic word?” Mingi says in a low voice, just to get under Yeosang’s skin a little.

 

“Please, Daddy, please !”

 

Mingi has a feeling that he’s going to wake up to some noise complaints in the morning because of Yeosang here.

 

He soon slips off of the bed, falling onto his knees and grabbing Yeosang’s calves to yank him closer off of the edge. He makes a yelp out of surprise but his legs don’t remain shut for long. He opens them around Mingi’s head, hoping that he is reading the room right in terms of what Mingi is about to do to him.

 

Well, two can play at this teasing through clothes game.

 

His hands push against his thighs, forcing them to stay open as he leans in to leave a long trail of spit with his tongue through his panties. He’s never heard Yeosang moan so loudly. “You’re still clothed and you’re acting like a bitch in heat,” Mingi can’t help but tease him as he does it again. Then another. Then another. Yeosang is rowdy, to the point that Mingi has to figure out how to get him to quiet down so that nobody kills his boner with a furious knocking at the door. “Baby, Bambi, if you want me to do more, you gotta be quieter.”

 

Yeosang nods in determination, bringing his hand up to his mouth clenched in a fist and biting down on the side of his finger. It seems to muffle him a little more but Mingi has a feeling that it’s going to get worse the higher he gets on the cloud of pleasure.

 

The bartender soon hooks a finger into the crotch of his panties, tugging them to the side out of curiosity to see what he’s working with. Mingi hasn’t worked a pussy in a long time. He used to sleep around in high school with cheerleaders and societally known “mean girls” since everybody wanted to sleep with the bad boy on campus. Juvenile shit. Mingi is usually working to open someone’s ass, so this is a little bit out of his wheel house.

 

What he’s met with makes him softly gasp.

 

Yeosang’s hormone treatment has made his clit grow in size, about two inches. It’s engorged and twitching at the cold air that it’s exposed to, wet with the slick that he’s been letting out into his panties. His pussy just looks slightly bigger in general, his folds a little more swollen than average but it’s obvious that he’s a little more sensitive, too. Mingi can’t help but let out a puff of hot air that makes Yeosang make a soft noise. His cocklet twitches again in anticipation.

 

“Fucking hell, Bambi,” Mingi can’t tear his eyes away from this. Maybe he does want to make worshipping this pussy a new religion. He’s dripping wet and a soft shade of pink in places that want the most attention. It’s why he doesn’t hesitate to dive in for a taste, doing the same thing that he did over his panties now directly onto Yeosang. Just as he expected, Yeosang's voice finallycracks into a moan.

 

Already, Yeosang’s hand is finding itself in Mingi’s hair, gripping loosely but in a good position to take a better chunk at any moment. Mingi takes a couple of stripes with his tongue before his lips latch around his cocklet. Yeosang softly whimpers at the sudden friction. “Shit, is Daddy going to try and blow me?”

 

Mingi doesn’t answer him, his tongue swirling around the hardness in his mouth. Yeosang makes soft noises, ones that sound like “hah, hah, hah” with every breath that he lets out. His hand that was in his mouth falls to the side, probably a bad decision but he’s so overwhelmed by Mingi’s mouth that he can’t think. Mingi warms him up, feeling the hardness twitch hard between his teeth before he starts to shallowly bob his head with intention.

 

Even on two inches, Mingi makes Yeosang see stars with that foul mouth of his.

 

Yeosang hisses through his teeth, his hand holding onto Mingi tighter by the roots of his hair. One wrong move and he will probably take a good chunk out of it. Mingi doesn’t care; nothing is going to tear him off of this gorgeous boypussy. His mouth soon moves off of his cocklet to give him a breather, Mingi’s whole head pulling back.

 

“No, please, don’t stop,” Yeosang pleads through bated breath.

 

Mingi softly chuckles. “Well, I mean, I have to breathe, too. So should you.” He grabs the waistband of Yeosang’s panties, his legs coming up to free himself from the most restrictive piece of clothing even if it was the most comfortable.

 

He was mostly teasing Yeosang. Mingi was just getting started. “Oh, Bambi.” He presses his entire face into his cunt, his nose smashed up against the side of his cocklet. Just looking at Mingi’s nose, Yeosang knew that he was going to eat his pussy with skill, with finesse. Even if it’s been years for him, he was going to be good at it, and by God, is he an expert in it. His tongue licks the gaps between his folds to clean him up of his mess, still another tease that comes with how close he is to his entrance.

 

Mingi shakes his head a little against Yeosang, adding stimulation to his cocklet as his thumbs start to draw soft circles against his inner thighs. Without warning, he yanks on Yeosang again, where the dancer can’t help but squeeze his legs around Mingi’s head. His legs hook around his neck, the heels of his boots digging hard into the center column of his spine. It’s a sharp pain that makes Mingi push his tongue inside of Yeosang.

 

Yeosang cuts off his loud moan with his own hand, clamping his palm over his mouth so that he can still enjoy himself without someone bitching about it.

 

He can feel the way that Mingi smirks against him. He likes knowing that he gets Yeosang like this. Even if this fullness isn’t a set of fingers or a cock, it’s enough to quell Yeosang’s desire for the time being. Emphasis on the time being. Yeosang still wants his cock. He needs his cock. Mingi finds Yeosang tasting sweet despite the juices coating his chin. Maybe it’s just how he feels about Yeosang that is changing the way that he tastes him. His tongue slips in and out of him in a rhythmic motion, almost like he’s slowly fucking him on it. Mingi’s tongue could never reach that sweet spot though.

 

Nothing is going to stop him from wrapping his lips around his cocklet again.

 

Yeosang feels arousal starting to burn in his gut, a dull simmer that is starting to become a rolling boil. He didn’t think that he was going to cum so fast, he usually lasts a lot longer than this. This is Mingi that we are talking about though, Yeosang really likes Mingi. He finds him attractive, sweet, funny. Well, once you crack through that hard exterior that he puts up. Hell, the moment that he found out that Yeosang was transgender, he was quick to ask questions, to figure out Yeosang’s boundaries and establish his comfort first. Mingi is just so… perfect.

 

“Fuck fuck, Daddy!” Yeosang moans out, his spine curled up from the mattress until only his shoulders remain on the mattress. The grip that Yeosang has on his head with his thighs suddenly tightens, Mingi practically hearing how they tremble against his ears. Mingi isn’t going to be able to stop without a loud protest and luckily for Yeosang, Mingi doesn’t want to. Well, not like he has much of a choice with the iron grip that Yeosang has on his head.

 

Mingi brings his lips back to his cocklet, taking short bobs that move a little bit faster than he was before. Yeosang’s entire body is shaking, twitching like it’s already gone through its orgasm! His eyes flick down to see Mingi between his legs, looking at how deeply buried he is in his cunt. There’s low grunts from Mingi against him, where Yeosang swears that he feels him push deeper .

 

The band in Yeosang’s gut snaps. Hard.

 

Before Yeosang gets a moment to even think about warning Mingi, his orgasm hits him like a bullet train. Blinding white light fills his vision as hot pleasure pours into every single vein in his body. As his body practically seizes up in a series of hard shakes, he manages to squirt through his orgasm. It’s not something that people can get him to do every time, but it’s not his first time squirting. The force of his orgasm is so intense that his juices spray across Mingi’s face who refuses to pull away until Yeosang has ridden out the high.

 

Mingi licks up what remains on his folds, Yeosang’s hips stuttering with each ministration. “D-Daddy, fuck, that’s a lot.” Yeosang is panting hard, almost wheezing with how he didn’t expect so much physical exertion out of being eaten out like he was Mingi’s last meal.

 

The bartender lightly taps on Yeosang’s thigh by his ear, the dancer finally loosening the grip that he has on his head with his legs. Mingi immediately yanks his head back, taking large gulps of air himself from being suffocated against Yeosang’s cunt. He has to let out a few coughs, his face and bangs wet with Yeosang’s own arousal. “Jesus. Fuck.”

 

“Are you okay, Mingi?” Yeosang posts himself up against the bed with his elbows, still wobbly at best but he wants to make sure that he didn’t accidentally hurt the guy between his legs. God, that orgasm alone took out so much of that strength.

 

Mingi nods, his face red from the lack of air that he experienced earlier. “I’m doing just fine, Bambi. You okay?”

 

Yeosang bites his bottom lip, slowly nodding. “Couldn’t be better.”

 

The two of them take a pause, where Mingi just looks at Yeosang with his wet face. “You’ve got a little,” Yeosang reaches up, swiping his thumb against the corner of Mingi’s mouth. Mingi rolls his eyes with how much of a mess actually is on his face and he’s only focused on the corner of his mouth.

 

Mingi brings his hand up to his cheek, his thumb against the temple of his head where there is a rosy splotch coming close to his eyelid. “You’re so pretty, Yeosang.”

 

Yeosang lets out a gasp, swallowing hard at the praise. He decides to push Mingi’s buttons, bringing his wet thumb to his mouth to suck it clean. Mingi makes a noise watching, a smirk coming up to his face. “Am I still pretty now, Mingi?”

 

“Even more so,” Mingi finally comes up from where he was leaning on the floor, crawling back over Yeosang to cage him. Yeosang likes how Mingi makes him feel so small, like one look could get him melted into the grey sheets underneath him in a heartbeat. He wants to be stuck in Mingi’s gaze forever. “That’s a good boy. Such a good boy.”

 

Yeosang can’t help but squirm from Mingi’s words. The heat is starting to simmer again where Yeosang can no longer stay still and he needs Mingi to do something again. “Daddy, please. I need you in me.”

 

“You’re going to need more than a tongue fucking to take me, Bambi,” Mingi points out the obvious.

 

The way that Mingi looks down on him is like a wolf hungrily eyeing a doe. Yeosang wouldn’t mind if Mingi just ate him alive, taking bites into him with reckless abandon. Yeosang just nods. “Give it to me. I’ll take anything, Daddy.”

 

Mingi brings his hand up, two fingers pressed together close to Yeosang’s mouth. “Why don’t you warm these up for me, Sangie?”

“Sangie” might have just made him cum if it weren’t for the fact that he didn’t have any stimulation. He wasn’t exactly well trained enough to cum on command or without stimulation. When fingers come into view, Yeosang immediately pounces on them. His lips wrap hard around the digits, his tongue starting to swirl copious amounts of spit to coat them. Mingi can’t stop watching how he practically blows his fingers clean. He can feel how soft his tongue is on the pads of his fingers.

 

“Good, Bambi,” Mingi purrs, pulling his hand away where Yeosang spreads his legs open in anticipation. The bartender brings his fingers against his hot pussy, wet with slick and cum, as he softly strokes his soaked folds. The oversensitivity from his first orgasm makes his hips kick up hard. Mingi pushes his free hand down on Yeosang’s hip. “Keep still a little, baby.”

 

Yeosang makes a whine of protest but does what he’s told. His fingers feel good, both in size and reach. He knows that he’s going to be able to reach his sweet spot. All Yeosang can think about is having those inside of him. He would do anything for it.

 

“You’re still so wet, baby. Still thinking about something?” Mingi can’t help but be curious.

 

Yeosang lets out a breathy moan, slightly shuddered. “You.”

 

“What about me?” His thumb grazes his cocklet, a sensation that makes his thighs shake hard.

 

It’s hard to tell Mingi what’s on his mind when he’s literally right there! Not that it’s embarrassing, but it does fluster him a little knowing that his biggest secrets are slowly being revealed to the bartender over him. Just as Yeosang is about to confess something, he feels Mingi’s middle finger push into him, his pussy practically swallowing the digit whole. “F-Fuck, um… just you. You’re so… so big everywhere.”

 

Mingi smirks as he wiggles the digit inside of Yeosang, feeling the wet velvet of his walls cinching and relaxing from the stretch. He gets a little ego boost from Yeosang, where he gets rewarded with movement. Everything is so small and slow right now but he can easily change it with a snap of his fingers… literally. Mingi leans back into his collarbones, bruising from the hickies along his skin. His lips leave gentle kisses against each mark, a sweet contrast to the finger that starts to pump in and out of him.

 

“Think you can take another, Bambi?” Mingi’s eyes flick up to Yeosang from where he is laying against his chest. He can’t help himself when he leaves kisses along the scars just underneath his nipples.

 

Yeosang nods like his life depends on it. The last thing that he wants is Mingi changing his mind. “God, yes ! Please, give me more!” Yeosang is starting to get rowdy again and Mingi has to move his hand from his hip to clamp over his mouth.

 

“Gotta be a little quieter than that if you want more, baby. I don’t want the neighbors ruining our fun.” He watches as Yeosang slowly nods despite the hand on his mouth. “Good boy.”

 

Yeosang’s reward of a second finger makes his back curl up from the mattress, a high pitched sound coming through his throat but choked off by the hand on his mouth. Maybe Mingi had a point in holding him down to keep him quiet. The visual alone is rather arousing though; Mingi’s thick, ringed fingers curling and prodding along the soft muscle of his pussy walls on top of every sound being muffled by his massive palm.

 

The dancer’s eyes roll back in his head in what feels like a dramatic fashion but he is so overcome by pleasure and heat that he can’t stop himself. Two fingers start to pump in and out of him like a slow ritual, wet sounds coming through his pussy from the way that Mingi handles him. He doesn’t treat him like glass, thankfully, but Yeosang is definitely getting bored of the leisurely stroll that Mingi is engaging with him. Yeosang squirms his hips down into his fingers, practically riding them as he breathes heavily through his nose. The hot air travels down the back of Mingi’s tattooed hand.

 

“Still not enough?” Mingi asks, seeing the desperate look bleeding in Yeosang’s eyes. Of course, it’s not! Yeosang wants anything that Mingi can give him, then double it and give it right back to him. Yeosang shakes his head, still rendered mute (aside from the moans that he’s letting out into his palm).

 

Mingi rolls his eyes in faux agitation, the hand inside of Yeosang’s pussy starting to increase in speed. The suddenness of it makes Yeosang’s eyes blow out, his legs trying to close around Mingi from the sensitivity. “If you want me to go faster than that, you have to promise me you’re not going to be too loud.”

 

There’s a muffled sound from Yeosang, tears starting to blur his vision.

 

The bartender slowly pulls his hand away, pressing it against Yeosang’s abdomen just below his navel. At the same time, it seems like Mingi has found something that makes Yeosang’s body go rigid. It feels like a hot sponge underneath his fingertips, but judging by the way that the dancer’s thighs tremble harder than any earthquake, Mingi has found his g spot.

 

“Right there?”

 

“Yesyesyesyes, fuck, Mingi , don’t fucking–”

 

A third finger is added before Yeosang gets a warning. Mingi’s reward is another round of his orgasm, personally selected just for him. It’s not as intense as when he was getting eaten out. In fact, there’s not even squirt coming out of him for this one. His body goes hard as a rock, his hips continuing to grind down into his fingers. The high that he is riding feels like it takes forever to come down and Yeosang isn’t sure if he can survive another one.

 

Except, he will. He knows what comes next.

 

Mingi softly strokes the toned skin of his stomach as he cums hard, Yeosang’s moans starting to turn into weak cries as tears start to spill down his blushed cheeks. Just as before, it’s greasy black streaks of mascara and eyeliner that trickle down, staining those prettier red cheeks slightly swollen from his crying. Mingi softly purrs sweet nothings before his hand pulls away, where he wipes his slick-covered fingers onto the sheets. They are going to wash them anyway.

 

“All better?” Mingi teases.

 

What he doesn’t expect is for Yeosang to grab him by the lapel of his leather vest, almost bruising his bottom lip with how hard they crash into each other in a kiss hotter than the sun. Mingi just follows after Yeosang, realizing that his energy is too depleted to lead it. Mingi eagerly takes control, planting his wet hand into the sheets next to Yeosang so that he doesn’t fall over. Yeosang is two orgasms in and Mingi hasn’t taken off his fucking pants!

 

Yeosang pushes him back, his eyes flicking down to the bulge straining through his jeans. He needs it. He needs the cock behind that zipper. “Fuck me, Daddy. I know you want to.”

 

“Is that something you’re going to survive?” Mingi asks with a lilt of teasing in his voice.

 

If Yeosang’s legs didn’t feel like jelly, he would have kicked them out like he was having a tantrum. “I-I can handle it.” He kind of has to if he wants to prove to Seonghwa that he belongs at SKIN.

 

Mingi softly hums as he leans up to take off his clothes. However, he didn’t expect Yeosang to practically spring up, pushing Mingi’s hands out of the way to do it himself. Mingi whistles with a chuckle. “Oh, you wanna do it?”

 

“Where’s your phone?”

 

The bartender pulls his phone out from behind his back pocket, swiping it open to the camera where he has an idea of what Yeosang is plotting. He hands it back to Yeosang, who posts it up against the nightstand so that the video shows Mingi’s groin and legs. Yeosang is fully in frame, a daring look in his eyes as his eyes flick up to the bartender and his hands find his belt.

 

Mingi watches, a hand coming down to cup his cheek. Yeosang’s nimble fingers pull his belt out of the loop, yanking up on the buckle with a jingle. Yeosang has a dazed smile on his face, but the video captures the slight tremor in his hands from how overstimulated he is after he came twice. When his belt is free, Yeosang wastes no more time unbuttoning, unzipping, undressing Mingi until his pants hit the floor with a thud.

 

He pulls himself up onto his knees more, undoing the buttons on his vest to push it off of his shoulders and finally have him fully naked. Yeosang has only seen his lower half, and the dancer is star struck. There are several tattoos stretching along his skin, mainly his chest and thighs. Yeosang would want to run his tongue on all of them if it weren’t for the fact that his pussy is aching for another stretch.

 

Something only Mingi can provide now.

 

Yeosang can’t help but see the subtle flex of muscles with every small movement. Even the way that his hand comes up to root in Yeosang’s hair makes his biceps twitch. He’s in pitch black boxer briefs, the head of his cock just barely poking out from the elastic waistband with Calvin Klein stitched into the cotton. Yeosang can’t help but tease Mingi a little as he works on regaining his breath, circling the tip of his finger along the hard bulge.

 

“For someone who just came twice, you sure are getting brave,” Mingi remarks with a breathy exhale. Even if it’s not a lot of stimulation, it keeps him seated on the edge. Any touch by Yeosang seems to accomplish that easily. In the video, Mingi’s voice is off screen but the smile on Yeosang’s face is undeniable.

 

The dancer starts to giggle, looking up at Mingi with glassy eyes. How has he gone from loud and whiny, to quietly sobbing, to sexily mischievous in the span of a few minutes? “Do you remember yesterday? When I had Daddy’s big , fat nasty cock stretching out my throat?”

 

Oh. Oh, Mingi didn’t realize that Yeosang could play this game.

 

“Maybe,” Mingi lowers his voice, his hand petting through Yeosang’s face. He pushes his bangs out of the way so that the camera really gets to see those black streaks and red cheeks. God, he’s fucking pretty like this. Mingi has never seen anything like it. In all honesty, Yeosang looks like a slut. “You here to remind me?”

 

Yeosang hooks his fingers into Mingi’s waistband, being a little bit of a cocky bitch with how slow he is pulling them down. He can see how it’s getting under the bartender’s skin. “Hm… I don’t know. I kind of want it somewhere else.”

 

Mingi’s eyes narrow down at him with a sneer. “Where do you want it?”

 

“I want Daddy’s cock in my boypussy.”

 

Mingi feels like he could hear a pin drop. He can hear the most miniscule sound before Yeosang starts to giggle. Yeosang sees the pocket of his boxers twitch. Hard. He’s not even halfway taking off his boxers before Mingi gets fed up, grabbing the dancer by the back of his hair to yank him up. His spine curls back in a pained yelp mixed with a hot moan. “If you want it so badly, then you wouldn’t tease the fuck out of him, would you?”

 

“All in good fun,” Yeosang laughs, his jaw dropped as his fucked out face stares up at Mingi. Fuck, he’s losing himself and it is the hottest thing that Mingi has seen in his life.

 

Mingi pulls him back again, realizing that Yeosang still has that maroon collar on. He had been taking his time kissing around the leather that he forgot about the literal hand hold that he could have on Yeosang. Pulling his hair in this position is a little more fun right now though. “Do you want to stop acting like a slut or do you want to spread your legs and take it like the bitch you are?”

 

Yeosang gasps loudly at the sudden jerk with Mingi tightening his grip. Not to mention his degrading words that make his pussy release another glob of slick. Who the fuck is this Mingi!? Is he playing it up now that there’s a camera here or has he always wanted to talk to Yeosang like that? He doesn’t want anyone else calling him a slut now that he’s heard how such a sharp word leaves his mouth so easily.

 

“I’m all yours, Daddy. Use me how you want.”

 

Mingi stops the recording on his phone, moving it from the nightstand to the mattress as he lets go of Yeosang. He finally tugs down his boxers, his cock slapping Yeosang in the face with how close he is to it. If he had the patience, he would have blown him again, but something tells the dancer that neither of them are going to be able to sit still for that. Mingi moves to open the drawer in his nightstand, placing a packet of gold foil between his teeth.

 

“No,” Yeosang says plainly.

 

The bartender raises an eyebrow. “You don’t want this?”

 

“No. I’m clean. And I’m on the pill. I want all of it, Mingi. All of it.” Yeosang looks him dead in the eyes, nothing in his face moving or hesitating. Yeosang wasn’t going to be forced to change his mind, and Mingi wasn't going to stop him. He’s going to encourage him even further. Mingi silently tosses the packet back into the drawer, where Yeosang smiles up at him now that he’s getting what he wants.

 

“Only if you insist,” Mingi just grins down at him. Maybe a silent part of him wanted it that way anyways. He wanted to feel Yeosang wholly and a barrier of rubber was going to ruin that illusion for him. Of course, he would put it on if Yeosang insisted on it, but it seems both sides seem eager to do it raw.

 

God, Mingi can’t believe that Yeosang is a real person. He truly will have to thank Seonghwa for coming up with such an easy barter.

 

He softly hums, thinking about the best position that he can get Yeosang into in order to film for Seonghwa without disclosing his status as someone who does not have a dick between his legs. It’s definitely going to be tricky waters to navigate, but Mingi already has an idea in his head. “If I fuck you from behind for a little bit, we can send that to Seonghwa and then we can go into whatever position you want.”

 

“That sounds simple enough. You’re probably going to have to hold me up though.” Yeosang’s legs feel weak at the thought of having to hold himself up on his fours. Anything to get most of the filming over with though so that he can just lay on his back with Mingi inside of him.

 

Mingi just rolls his eyes as Yeosang makes his way up to his fours, soon giving up on trying to hold himself on his arms and collapsing on his elbow, his cheek resting against the side of a pillow. “Good, now stay there.” He crawls out of bed, ignoring how his hard dick is slapping his stomach as he scoots his desk chair out to position his phone in a way that will capture Yeosang’s body perfectly without giving Seonghwa the hint that he’s inside of his pussy and not his ass. He finds that a good portion of Yeosang’s ass covers a lot of his front and he could always just assume that he has a small dick. He keeps adjusting the angle until he hears Yeosang whine.

 

“Are you done yet?”

 

Mingi decides that the position is good enough and if anything, he can always slap some stickers on it to cover Yeosang’s groin and call it a day if it’s that bad. He soon comes over, crawling into bed on his knees behind Yeosang. His thumb tugs the side of his pussy open, seeing a long line of slick drooling out of him. Yeosang’s breath is steady now that he’s recovered from his two orgasms, but that feeling isn’t going to last long.

 

He runs his other hand along the swell of his ass cheek, feeling the soft and supple skin against his fingers. Mingi pushes himself higher on his knees, pulling Yeosang’s body a little closer to him. He taps the length of his cock against the cleft of his ass just above his pussy, a movement that makes Yeosang wiggle his hips in desperation. He’s so fucking close to getting what he wants. Mingi teases him further when he pushes the head of his own cock against Yeosang’s own cocklet, making Yeosang’s hips jerk from oversensitivity. He can’t help but look as far over his shoulder he possibly can. “Fuck me, Daddy, please.” At least he knows to keep it down a little.

 

Mingi finally caves in, pressing the head of his cock against his debauched hole, pulling back a few times so that his pussy can only swallow the head of his cock, but it isn’t long until Mingi finally starts to urge his hips forward. Yeosang’s jaw drops in a moan as a sudden fullness starts to overtake him. Even with the three fingers, Yeosang couldn’t prepare for the ache of the stretch that came with Mingi’s cock. It filled him up in all of the right places, but he certainly wasn’t used to it.

 

When Mingi makes it about halfway down, Yeosang looks over his shoulder with teary eyes. Fuck, he’s not even halfway in!? He thinks about the phone in the corner of the room, recording them in such a compromising position. “Fuck, Daddy, you’re so fucking big!” Yeosang swears that he’s going to break him in half! Not even Yeosang’s own collection of toys could compete with the way that Mingi’s cock rubbed up against his walls and made him feel like he was locked out of heaven for the sins that he was committing on this queen mattress.

 

Mingi grabs Yeosang by the back of his collar, pulling him up until he’s fully sitting up on his knees, pressed against Mingi’s chest. “Yeah? You gonna tell Seonghwa how I’m spreading your boypussy?”

With the kind of gay culture that the club engages in, it’s easy to pass off pussy and cunt as some sort of feminization kink. Seonghwa probably wouldn’t bat an eye. He certainly didn’t have any questions when it came to the use of “throat cunt” yesterday. Yeosang makes an exaggeratedly loud moan, though judging how loud he’s been all evening, it may just well be a real one. “Fuck, he fills me up so good. So fucking g-good, ngh, Daddy’s gonna break me in half!”

 

Well, so much for the noise complaint.

 

Mingi drops Yeosang back down on the mattress, leaving him motionless and drooling against the pillow his cheek is resting on. He soon bottoms out, a knot growing in his stomach from the way that his cockhead protrudes from just below his belly button. Yeosang can’t even look down to see it when Mingi starts to urge his hips back, the fullness starting to leave Yeosang before he’s forced to take it all in again.

 

“God, yes !” Yeosang’s eyes roll back in his head when he reaches the peak of fullness, his hands sprawling out to grab a hold of the sheets. He turns his head so that he can look at the camera pointed at them. He sees the position that he’s in, only standing up by his knees but his chest pressed into the mattress from how he can’t hold himself up anymore. He lets out tiny pants as Mingi starts to roll his hips into him, the pace slow enough to get Yeosang used to everything. There’s a puddle of drool growing by his cheek as he keeps that delirious smile on his face, knowing that this will get under Seonghwa’s skin. Except, he doesn’t give a fuck about what Seonghwa thinks right now.

 

This is for him. This is only for him.

 

He feels Mingi’s hands wrap around his waist, a soft purr rumbling in Yeosang’s throat as he starts to fuck into Yeosang the way that he likes it. The pace eventually gets Mingi’s hips slapping the skin of his ass, an audible sound captured on his phone’s microphone. Seonghwa can’t disprove anything about this video now. This is the fucking that he wanted, right?

 

Yeosang lets Mingi fuck him however he wants. The pace that he sets isn’t breakneck, but it isn’t gentle either. Yeosang can feel the skin of his ass and thighs rippling with every blow into his pussy. Mingi doesn’t even try to shut him up when his moans start to pour out into the room only lit by moonlight and a mood lamp with constellations of red, purple, and blue, speckled with stars. Maybe it’s because Mingi is making similar noises, only lower and deeper in bass.

 

Just before Mingi gets a good rhythm with it, Yeosang watches as his phone slips from the angle that it’s in, landing face down against the cushion of his desk chair. He knows that Mingi isn’t going to notice, but maybe he was silently cheering for something like that to happen so that he could finally lay on his back and let Mingi have his way with him.

 

“M-Mingi,” Yeosang wheezes, a thrust punching out the word. “It fell ove– Fuck.” A particular brush of his cock head against his g spot makes Yeosang go like jelly in Mingi’s hold. “I-I need to lay do–Mmf!”

 

Surprisingly, Mingi hears him through the sound of skin slapping and Yeosang’s desperate cries to lay down. His hips soon come to a still, the fullness of his cock messing with Yeosang’s senses. “Do you want me to fix it or…?”

 

“No. I-I wanna lay down on my back. Pl-please?” Yeosang looks as best as he can at him over his shoulder. Maybe part of him wants to see the bump in his stomach from just how deep his cock scratches at his insides.

 

Mingi abides by his request, slowly pulling out with a wet squelch that leaves precum from both sides leaking out of Yeosang. He soon flops over on his side, taking a breather before Mingi pushes against his hip to get him on his back. Yeosang weakly reaches for one of Mingi’s pillows to tuck under his lower back. His legs fall open, mostly because he no longer has the strength to keep them closed. Mingi can now see how his cocklet twitches hard and is begging for Mingi to come back inside of him.

 

In more ways than one.

 

The bartender does what he did earlier, running the length of his dick along the slit of Yeosang’s pussy just to hear that shuddered breath desperate for it. He even attempts to wiggle his hips into him, but does not succeed as well as last time. His expression already looks spent, but he is not leaving until Mingi cums inside of his boycunt.

 

“Daddy, will you- ngh, fuck, um… Can you talk to me like that again?” Yeosang looks up at Mingi with pleading eyes, hoping that he gets the message without the dancer having to fully spell it out for him.

 

Mingi wants to play along though. “Like what, baby?”

 

If he had the strength, he would have kicked his legs out from the frustration. “Like you did earlier… when you called me a slut.” His last words taper off into a whisper, where Mingi starts to push the head of his cock against Yeosang’s eagerly awaiting cunt.

 

“Louder.”

 

“Fuck, Daddy, call me a slut!”

 

Yeosang didn’t have to tell him twice.

 

“That’s what you wanna be? You wanna be Daddy’s dirty slut?” Yeosang doesn’t get that grace period to get himself accustomed to the size like he did when he was on his fours. Mingi is urging inside of him faster. Harder. It’s everything that Yeosang could dream about. After this, his hand definitely won’t be enough to satisfy him when he’s left to his own devices back at his own apartment. Mingi’s hands find Yeosang’s waist again, the grip tighter than before. 

 

“Fuck, yes, I’m Daddy’s dirty slut!” His voice is slightly raw from the noises that keep coming out of him. Animalistic ones. Like he’s gone into heat.

 

Even the sound of someone banging against the wall doesn’t deter Mingi anymore. The sex is too good to keep telling Yeosang to be quiet. He needs to hear every little mewl that he can’t stop himself from letting out. Yeosang’s hands come up to grab Mingi’s biceps as he pushes and pulls to watch the knot in his stomach stretch and deflate. Fuck, he’s that big inside of him!?

 

The longer that they go, the more that Yeosang’s moans start to crescendo. It has to be maybe three am in Hongdae, the entire complex floor being woken up to the sex that slams Mingi’s bed frame into the wall a couple of times. He’s definitely going to see dents in that in the morning and lose out on his security deposit. Not like it’s money that he’s going to miss anyways.

 

Yeosang’s nails dig into his inked up biceps, crescent shaped marks starting to form underneath his nails from the vice-right grip. Yeosang can’t keep it together anymore. The heat inside of his stomach is practically crawling up his throat, his gut tensing up as he feels it rise higher and higher.

 

“Daddy! Fuck! Mingi!” Yeosang can’t keep his eyes closed, but he definitely has a hard time looking at Mingi. It’s what makes Mingi’s hand shoot out, the rings on his fingers pushing into hot and tender skin. The moan that rips out of Yeosang’s throat is guttural, full of spit and desire. “Harder, Mingi, I can fucking take it.”

 

Well, if he insists.

 

The hand around his throat cinches harder, wrapping around the taut leather. His fingers dig deep into his jugulars, making Yeosang lightheaded from the sudden lack of oxygen. He starts to giggle through his moans, his legs wrapping around Mingi’s waist until his heels start to dig into the bruises on his back already growing from earlier. Mingi can feel how his legs are trembling next to his body, what seems like the telltale sign that he was close to exploding.

 

“That’s right, baby. You’ll take anything your Daddy gives you, hm? Like the dumb cockslut you are.” The thrust that punctuates his sentence jabs right into his g spot.

 

White pours into Yeosang’s vision as he scrambles for purchase, his thighs clamping hard around Mingi’s waist as he feels himself crumble. Pleasure courses hard through his veins as he cums hard on Mingi’s cock, an explosion of hot squirt staining the tight curls on the bartender’s groin. Yeosang’s eyes are squeezed shut through it, his entire body spasming like he was going through an exorcism.

 

“Good boy, Bambi, you’re being such a good boy,” Mingi purrs, but his hips never come to a halt or even slow down. Mingi is just as close, as evident by his tightening balls against the cheeks of his ass, but he needs a little more. He needs to feel Yeosang continue to milk him for all he’s worth. Yeosang’s walls twitch and spasm out of his control, the ridged muscle grabbing his dick and massaging it deeply.

 

Yeosang softly whimpers when Mingi doesn’t stop, one of his feet kicking the bartender in the back out of instinct. “F-Fuck, Mingi… Th-That’s a lot.” He’s being throttled into the throes of oversensitivity, to the point that another orgasm coming out of him would hurt more than it would feel nice.

 

“I know, baby, I’m almost there,” Mingi reassures him. Yeosang tries to count the thrusts that it takes but his brain has liquified into soup. He can’t think anymore; he’s at Mingi’s mercy.

 

After what feels like hours but is only a few minutes, Mingi finally leans into Yeosang’s shoulder, his lips hot against his ear. “I’m gonna cum so deep in this boypussy. Then you’re never going to want anyone else again.”

 

“Yesyesyesyesyesyes, fuck !”

 

He feels warmth fill his guts, hot white ropes of cum spurting out of Mingi’s cock to fill his insides. It feels like lava, almost like it’s going to burn his walls but it’s a sensation that Yeosang can’t get enough of. He’s certain that some of it is against his cervix, traveling up into places that he doesn’t want to think about right now. All he is focusing on is Mingi’s growl in his ear when he came inside of him, giving Yeosang all that he was worth just like he wanted. He rides out the high, soon finding himself still inside of Yeosang.

 

Cum seeps out from his hole in the gaps that his cock can’t properly fill. Mingi pushes Yeosang’s bangs out of his face, something that makes him jolt hard. “Woah, hey, you okay, baby?”

 

“Mhm,” he weakly groans, his legs finally falling to either side of him when he can’t hold them up anymore. “‘S a lot.” His arms wrap around Mingi’s shoulders, pulling him in closer. He isn’t ready to let go of him.

 

Mingi softly moans as Yeosang accidentally draws him closer. “Mmg, Yeosang, we should probably clean this up.”

 

“Don’t wanna,” Yeosang rubs his cheek against Mingi’s shoulder.

 

The bartender softly strokes Yeosang’s hair to continue soothing him. He did just go through three intense orgasms, something that he isn’t used to. “Well, can I at least grab my phone?”

 

Yeosang looks like he’s pondering it for a minute. He slowly nods. “Hurry.”

 

Mingi can’t help but chuckle at a tired Yeosang, completely sex spent and in desperate need to sleep it off. Still, Mingi isn’t going to let him fall asleep in a mess of cum and sweat and soiled makeup. He urges his hips back to pull out, the two of them making a grieving noise at the loss of wet heat, so that he can cross the room and reach for his phone. Sure enough, it is face down on the cushion of his desk chair. Based on Yeosang’s words earlier, it fell down before they entered missionary, so it should be safe to send to Seonghwa.

 

He skims through the landscape video, making sure that Yeosang is still in a gender affirmative position that won’t out him to Seonghwa before seeing the pitch black and the audio still punching through on the tiny speaker. He picks through that video and the one that Yeosang took of him taking his pants off. He sends them to Seonghwa without a second thought, soon placing his phone on the wireless charging pad on his desk.

 

Mingi makes his way into his connected bathroom, grabbing a pouch of baby wipes and towels. When he returns to the bedroom with the mission to clean Yeosang, he is already asleep, his head lolled to the side. He softly sighs as he comes to the edge of the bed, pulling down each zipper of his boots to tug them off and leave them next to the bed.

Notes:

Apologies for the late upload. I hope that this chapter is a good apology.

Notes:

for updates on bambi and future works, please follow @subsangs on twitter.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of SKIN