Chapter Text
The door behind them closed with a thud.
Changbin left the keys on the lock, his keychains annoyingly clacking together as Seungmin pulled him by the wrist.
Their laughs overlapped in the tight corridor space—a corridor that only reminded Seungmin of his own. Too caught up in his anticipation, he paid the interior no mind.
Changbin whispered something through a grin as they entered the living room and plopped down on the couch. Seungmin's head banged on the cushion and he kept laughing.
"I’m so—" he covered his face with his hand. "Inadequate."
The streets below the—vaguely familiar—apartment were still crowded by flashing lights and groups of friends trying to catch a taxi home. All kinds of city noises late at night sounded around the living room.
Seungmin couldn't remember where he had been with Changbin before coming home, but he could not care less—he turned to Changbin, who sat eagerly beside him, fully relaxed with legs spread wide.
"Ah, me too," Changbin reached his hand lazily over Seungmin's thigh. "But I've been thinking about it all night."
Seungmin caressed the hand that was nearing his zipper, then mindlessly decided to lift himself and straddle Changbin's lap. He landed a little below his thighs.
Looking down and readjusting himself slightly, Seungmin noticed the shirt he was wearing—it felt loose, comfortable, but not something he would wear to a night out.
Changbin's warm hand slipped under the same tee he was inspecting, making Seungmin look up.
He felt his ears heat up as Changbin's fingers caressed his torso, moving up and down passively. He wanted to lean into the touch and close his eyes, but kept them open to see Changbin biting his lip.
"Don't push yourself tonight, hyung," Seungmin chirped, palm reaching towards Changbin's crotch. The rough texture of the dark denim trousers soothed him, but he wanted to press his palm deeper and feel out Changbin's length.
"Min," Changbin hushed and used both of his hands to push Seungmin closer to himself. "I want to keep looking at you. I couldn't get enough of you in the bar—" he grabbed a hold of Seungmin's neck, breathing into his ear, "You can jerk me off another time. Now get on my thigh."
Seungmin bowed his head, flushed, and repositioned himself.
Everything felt easier like this—being told what to do. Getting rid of inhibitions under the watchful eye of someone living to see you satisfied. Comfortable, safe.
He relaxed fully into a seat—the muscles in Changbin's leg flexing beneath him. Seungmin clutched at his own shirt with one hand as he started sliding forward.
The various fabrics against his crotch made his lips part with a sigh. Each thrust forward and down intensified sooner than he expected—making him seem more desperate tonight.
"I love seeing you like this," Changbin smiled and rested his hands against Seungmin's waist. "Watching you fall apart for me. Let me take care of you tonight and I promise I'll give you so much more soon."
Seungmin's small and shallow breaths gradually started sounding like moans.
I'll give you so much more soon. Seungmin quickly realized tonight won't be enough. His hips' search for friction wouldn't be enough, and Seungmin would want more.
He'd want Changbin to choke him while he squirmed on his thigh, he'd want him to bite into his shoulder and leave a rough mark for days.
Seungmin sped up his pace while pressing his weight down to further the contact. He failed to muffle his groans of frustration.
"I know it's not enough—" Changbin pityingly said, a pleased grin on his face, "And you want more, but you're doing so well, Minnie."
Changbin cradled Seungmin's face and rested a hand on his flushed cheek. Seungmin whined into the touch as his lower body started trembling.
Changbin looked down at the erratic movement of his hips and resumed tensing the muscle of his thigh, offering a firmer surface to grind on.
It was not enough. Seungmin finally leaned and rested his head on Changbin's shoulders, biting back more groans.
He felt a hand reach for the back of his neck again, this time kneading it and reaching underneath the hem of his tee.
Changbin's fingers brushed lightly over Seungmin's spine.
"You look so pretty in my shirt,” he whispered.
Seungmin shut his eyes and nuzzled closer to Changbin, making his thrusts shorter and focusing on his aching tip.
Seungmin wanted to hear more. He needed to know just how much he meant to Changbin.
"Wait—" Changbin bumped Seungmin up so he could meet his eyes, "I want to feel you through your boxers. Can you do that for me?" Changbin's palm was already sliding down his zipper as he asked.
Seungmin nodded enthusiastically with pouty lips as he undid his button and kicked away his trousers.
The air immediately nipped at his bare thighs and sensitive erection. Changbin shamelessly clawed at Seungmin's legs and massaged the skin before stopping at his hipbone.
Seungmin relaxed further down. His hands clutched at Changbin's flexed biceps for stability. A soft sigh escaped him.
"That's it," Changbin's hand slithered up to Seungmin's neck. His thumb caressed his Adam's apple, his palm stopping at the front and squeezing at the sides. "Does that feel better, Min?"
Seungmin barely managed to swallow before the pressure intensified. Instead of replying, he let out a groan, squirming under the rough hold. His mouth hung open, only managing to huff out exhales.
When his breath stuck around the walls of his throat—when Changbin held him steadily and kept a rough hold of him—he could feel the rush of blood to his groin; just how much his dick throbbed against his boxers.
Letting go of his neck, Changbin's hand crept at his nape. The sudden lack of strain made Seungmin choke back a cry, his throat now numb and dry.
Changbin grabbed the back of his hair, tilted Seungmin's head up, and sent his body forward to press flush against Changbin's.
Seungmin's back arched naturally as his hips continued moving sporadically—quick, shallow moves that required no thought.
He wanted to lay his hand on his erection and push it down, painfully furthering the friction between the two materials. Instead, his arms now laid heavy at Changbin's shoulders and biceps, uselessly.
"Hyung," Seungmin panted. Changbin's hands fell to Seungmin's back and pressed him tight. The embrace got more shallow moans out of Seungmin, but he still wanted more. "Hyung—"
"Seungmin."
Sweat was forming all across his body, but he felt how his fingertips stuck to Changbin's heated skin the most. Seungmin imagined digging into his skin until Changbin cussed at him through low moans.
Seungmin's quiet whines turned into long, exhausted groans. He felt spent, his hips jittered in one place.
"Ah— fuck, Seungmin."
"Changbin," he sobbed. "I can't—"
"Min—" Changbin leaned his head back and took control of Seungmin's hips. He pushed them down rhythmically and deeply, painfully.
His stiffened worn out frame functioned without him—Seungmin's need for relief made him slump his whole weight onto Changbin's body, panting and gasping hot breaths.
"Seungmin," Changbin kept repeating. If he had the strength, Seungmin would press himself up and bite at Changbin's lower lip and kiss him eagerly.
All he could do now was slide his arms up and wrap them around Changbin's neck, nestling himself further into their embrace.
The rhythm was set, but Seungmin needed more.
He wanted this night to last longer—for them to move as one, sharing the same dense, heavy air. He wanted Changbin to carry him to their bed and continue, no matter how tired he felt.
His body wouldn't allow him. His body needed more.
"Seungmin," Changbin whispered, slowly letting go of his hips.
The loss of friction immediately stung, and Seungmin, wide-eyed, began begging, "Hyung, please, I need— I'm so close—"
"Seung—"
"—min," a voice in the dark breathed.
Seungmin breathed in way too fast and almost choked.
The bedroom was entirely dark—the faint blue glow from behind the blinds doing nothing to help. In this space Seungmin could only feel.
He felt Changbin's breaths as warmth on the back of his neck, he felt the hand on his shoulder as an itch, a burn.
Fuck, Seungmin realized what was happening.
"No—" Seungmin's head pounded. He felt it on both sides of his skull. Drool pooled under his parted lips and left a wet stain on the flat pillow.
He instinctively reached for the tender pressure in his crotch, but pulled away when he felt how sore it was—he hissed at the contact and groaned.
Seungmin recalled how close he was to coming untouched in his dream, how fast he jerked his hips forward, down the length of Changbin's tight denim. He thoughtlessly tried to pick up the rhythm again, sliding his hips in search of stimulation against the sheets underneath, but the hand on his shoulder reminded him who was behind him.
"Oh, god," if he was so quick to search for friction now, Seungmin asked himself frantically, did that mean— "Was I—? Fuck—" he whined out.
Changbin inhaled sharply, "I mean, I can't see you, I could only..." the sheets rustled underneath him as he shifted—Seungmin noted the unease. "Uh, hear..."
"I’m— really sorry—"
Seungmin wanted Changbin's hand to come to his hipbone, to pin him in place and not let him do anything reckless. To hold him down and not let him cum until he told him to—
His head pulsated, and the pain was enough to wet Seungmin's sore eyes.
"No, no, Min, I'm sorry for waking you," his tone was tender and further softened by his sleepiness. "You weren't bothering me."
The room was filled with a tension Seungmin could not name—not in this current state. He didn't dare to label it.
"I don't... even know why I woke you," Changbin continued. His hand slipped passively to Seungmin's hip.
It wasn't awkward, he found. Just... tense.
Changbin, seemingly, was bracing for something, "Just, uh..."
A light squeeze bound Seungmin's hip in place.
"Who were you dreaming of?" Changbin's voice acquired a depth—his tone dropped low, further deepened by sleep—or, no. It wasn't the lack of sleep.
Seungmin gave in to the touch. He closed his eyes with a small pant.
Anticipation. That was it, the tension that reigned over this spacious bedroom. Fuck.
Seungmin stayed quiet. His breaths continued to hitch and stop in place from the persistent warmth in his crotch. It enveloped his whole lower body, everything under Changbin's grip.
"I—" he whispered—slowly, full of air. "Don't remember."
Changbin's defeated exhale further embarrassed him.
So much for honesty and bravery. The brain can allow a limited amount of vulnerable experiences in one day, Seungmin thought. The one he had got himself into was a week's worth, at the very least.
Anticipation, he reminisced... Changbin's grip intensified—slowly, yet unmistakably. It moved up, coming into contact with the dip of his waist.
The warmth spread up and down and up again. Changbin's caress became constant, persistent. Observant.
"Hyung,” he kept his voice low.
Changbin slowed his movements. Seungmin feared he could lose this contact any moment now—and lose it forever.
He recalled the sound of clinking keys and the promise of something more—and he wanted it for himself, not his dream self.
Thoughts that are kept within us do not invoke sympathy in others...
Seungmin grabbed Changbin's wrist. He felt Changbin's breath on his nape.
"Hyung," he couldn't restrain the small noises of frustration from within him. They were high in pitch and as quiet as his breathing. "I want to say it."
"Then say it."
Be brave. The smile in Changbin's tone affirmed him further.
Seungmin exhaled, a sound of desire. A weight escaped him.
"...I need you closer."
Changbin instantly buried his face in Seungmin's neck. He could feel the pressure against his pulse point, the softness of Changbin's lips.
Finally, something tangible.
He felt Changbin's lips moving, "There you go."
The softest of kisses bloomed on his neck. His whole nape burned, the heat spreading to his ears.
Seungmin felt something warm and wet run across his skin, only for a moment. The absence of it hurt afterwards—he turned his neck to Changbin's hovering mouth.
"Closer," Seungmin breathed.
Not even a second later Changbin thrusted himself upwards, pressing Seungmin back into his body. Changbin's firm thigh framed Seungmin and slid between his thighs and crotch.
Seungmin stiffened and restrained his hips from jolting downwards. He felt Changbin's stable muscle under his aching erection—too familiar of a feeling.
He cursed himself for his restraint—restrained fantasies drove him further beyond reason:
He recalled his dream again and all it could've been. Changbin, illuminated by soft warm lights, winded and red, guiding Seungmin into a craving kiss as he forced their hips together and thrusted upwards.
He imagined kissing Changbin's bare thighs as a loving hand tugged at his nape. He pictured his own lips—sore and slicked with spit, used. He pictured his gaze—tilted up, looking at Changbin from below.
He imagined himself under Changbin, he imagined them intertwined, the two of them. In a bed just like this one.
Those fantasies were tangible now. In the dark, where Changbin's hands were running under the loose shirt he lended Seungmin.
He cursed himself for continuing to live in his head. His fantasies seemed tangible only if he were to do something about it.
Seungmin leaned backwards into the arms around his stomach.
The embrace tightened, one of the hands sliding towards the waistband of his lended sweatpants.
"Were we this close in your dream?" the sound that Changbin released sounded more like a moan than an exhale to Seungmin. It was drawn out and lingered on Seungmin's skin.
He bit his lip—he failed to suppress how much that excited him.
"Was I," Changbin's hand continued its descent beneath the fabric, reaching the center of Seungmin's boxers. "This close?"
His palm continued to lay flat, not daring to move his fingers along Seungmin's length. It hovered, but the warmth teased and irritated. He wanted to thrust upwards, to let Changbin wrap his fist around him, to initiate something, anything.
Seungmin felt a swell in his chest. His lust was suffocating him, the throb under Changbin's palm was growing more insatiable—but the swell was something else.
Changbin palmed Seungmin's erection, making Seungmin's hips twitch up. His mouth fell open and resumed its quick heated breaths.
Changbin left his palm like this. Seungmin felt how each of his knuckles forced themselves to stay around him.
What he was doing to him—it was teasing, it was aggravating, and it wasn't demanding... nothing worth committing to. It was just play.
It was Changbin poking around Seungmin's weak spots, finding him at his most vulnerable.
And not committing.
The swell in his sternum grew and he felt like weeping.
He thought back to the fantasy of him and Changbin embraced. Of being able to freely run his hands down his back, around his neck, underneath his shirt. He thought of something allowed. Established.
The swell remained—Changbin continuing to run lazy kisses as he stood still.
Seungmin started trembling.
"Seung?"
The trembles drove his body further to the side, almost in an attempt to shrink into himself, to become one with the sheets beneath him.
He thought back to Changbin in the light, earlier tonight. He remembered him on the couch, mouth slowly falling open with sleep, body at rest. He remembered waking up in his arms way back on the same couch—and never bringing it up.
"Seungmin, did I—?"
Seungmin sighed. It came out as a drawn out shudder, a soft moan.
Only once the palm around him lifted did Seungmin realize why Changbin was calling out to him.
He snapped his body back, flush against Changbin's, and held his hands in place around him.
"No, hyung—" what the fuck was happening? Why was his brain doing evil things during this? "I got into my head, I'm sorry, don't pull away—"
"Okay," Changbin's breath steadied.
Seungmin's, however, did not. "Don't stop."
"I won't," he sucked in a breath as they fell back into position. Changbin's hand fell a little below his naval. The pressure of it soothed Seungmin. "I wasn't sure you... were okay with this."
The swell in Seungmin's chest loosened itself. He breathed slow, still shallow, breaths and relaxed his head into the pillow.
The same head filled with thoughts that almost drove Changbin away from him.
"I want this," Seungmin spoke, earnestly. Be brave again. Seriously this time. He wasn't okay with this being the last time.
"...Alright."
"Please, just—" Seungmin reached for Changbin's hand on his naval and slid it down around his boxers. He pressed their hands together around the outline of his dick. "Do something—"
Concrete. Indisputable. Tangible.
Changbin huffed a soft laugh and started sliding his fingers around Seungmin's length. The rhythm of kisses on the nape resumed, and Seungmin felt relief for the first time tonight.
Seungmin's hand pressed Changbin's further down. The fabric around his tip was damp before they started, but now the feeling of it moving around his ache sent Seungmin's head back.
He used to dream of something more intense. He fantasized about Changbin putting him in his place and driving harder into him.
Right now, as the blue streaks of light from the outside turned brighter, he needed just this—Changbin curled around him, breathing steadily as he worked his palm to slide across the entirety of Seungmin's erection.
Seungmin's moans got stuck in his throat as Changbin swiftly—cravingly—reached under the boxers and took his dick in his hand.
"Are you doing better?" Changbin used the softest, most compassionate tone while his hand wasted no time spreading Seungmin's precum down his length. His movements were erratic—one moment he was working him quickly, carelessly moving his thumb across his sore tip, while the next he was slowly pumping the base of Seungmin's dick.
Changbin hissed and whispered something inaudible—but still soothing. He lifted his hand away, the loss of contact making Seungmin bite back a cry.
Seungmin jumped at a sudden spitting sound behind him. He leaned back right as Changbin slid his hand under his clothes and resumed his even pace, breathing hard. His fist, now slicked with spit, squeezed harder around Seungmin.
"Hyu—" he wished to call into the dark, to verbalize how good this feels, how much he needed this, but the pleasure drove him to push out high-pitched whimpers and groans.
He bit his lip as Changbin's pace slowed to focus on his tip. "Fuck— Changbin—"
Changbin bit into the tenderest spot on Seungmin's neck instantly—a curse escaped him before he could muffle it. His hand's pace instantly became relentless, making Seungmin's head pound.
Seungmin's legs creeped closer to his body, feeling his approaching climax throughout his whole frame.
His eyes squeezed shut—a vain attempt at ignoring the burning in his abdomen. Tired whines sounded across the entire space. He almost missed Changbin's next words.
"Seungmin, I heard you call for me," Changbin moaned out. "In your dream."
"Hyung—"
"I heard my name."
"Hyung, I’m cl—" his clothes stuck to his sweat-slicked skin, his head laid heavy on the flat pillow—burning hot.
"You're doing so well—"
You look so pretty in my shirt. Let me take care of you tonight.
You deserve it.
Seungmin's vision spun.
"Come on, do it for me."
The rhythmic pressure became erratic again, Changbin's breath sizzled against his neck.
He trembled and tried to bury his face into the pillow.
The warmth of Changbin's fist around him, his sore thighs and swollen lips, the breaths and moans he didn't want to suppress anymore.
All because the beginning of his night began with ‘it's good to hear you’. All because Changbin welcomed him with a hug and he could still feel the contact of it.
All because Seungmin fell asleep to the thought of Changbin.
Seungmin came with a drawn, breathless whine, followed by heavy breaths.
The heat within him calmed, but he still felt sensitive.
He imagined Changbin laying soft kisses on his inner thighs after using him. He imagined Changbin continuing to stroke him afterwards and telling him they're not done.
He felt an aching soreness in his crotch. In the dark, he was forced to curl up and embrace the loss of contact, to sleep through it and not address it in the morning.
Changbin kissed his nape and he felt like crying. He couldn't grasp why.
"That's it," the same hand that shook him awake now landed on his shoulder and gave him a light squeeze. "Don't you wanna clean up?"
If he spoke, Seungmin admitted to himself, he would start sobbing and make Changbin worry again. He settled for a small, negating mumble and nestled deeper into the sheets beneath him.
"That's fine," Changbin managed to calm Seungmin's worries in an instant just by using his softest, most heartfelt tone. "The least I can do is..."
The weight behind him shifted further back. Seungmin heard the cabinet open, as well as, "...try to find—"
After quickly shuffling the various items in the bedside drawer, Changbin closed it quietly.
A pleasant, clean scent approached him. After a beat, Seungmin felt the cooling relief of a wet wipe run across his naval to his crotch.
The contact made Seungmin jolt and let out a pained groan. It did nothing to relieve his ache, but it soothed and chilled the most heated area of his body.
"Sorry," Changbin laughed lightly. "Everything alright?"
More than alright, he pondered. He wanted to believe that thought, but something prevented him.
With a sigh, Changbin got rid of the wet wipe. His hands didn't reach for Seungmin—instead sliding under his own pillow.
"Thank you," Seungmin hushed with a tremble in his voice and turned around to face Changbin. Tears formed in the innermost corner of his eyes.
The dark glow of the night had disappeared and instead brought the dawn's soft, stray gleams of light.
He could see Changbin more clearly now—still not entirely, but he felt less and saw more. Dark, quiet eyes with heavy eyelids looked back at him. A smile had formed on his face and stayed there.
Seungmin wanted to fall asleep with this sight in mind, but no.
He couldn't rest. Not yet.
He took a breath, and reached for the hair that obstructed Changbin's eyes. "Please let this be real."
Changbin slowly grabbed his hand, and kissed the center of his palm. His eyes closed with the kiss and opened with furrowed brows.
"Changbin, I don't want to leave in the morning," before he could rationalize it—more so, after he discarded the thought to rationalize—he cuddled closer to Changbin and settled his hands around him. "And not know what we are."
Instantly, a deep sigh escaped Changbin and he leaned into the embrace. He pulled him closer and pressed his head near Seungmin's collarbones.
"I," he huffed softly, a low tone, "honestly don't want you to leave."
After a beat, after sharing deep, purposeful breaths with Seungmin, he continued, "I need you here with me."
The scent of sandalwood surrounded Seungmin once again, for the last time this night. He readjusted himself so that their bodies fit together nicely, ready for sleep.
Seungmin decisively drifted off to the thought of Changbin needing him, to the thought of Changbin loving him back.