Chapter Text
Seo Changbin enters the night club. The staccato vibrations of the pulsating music and the flashing lights eases him into a lulled state of relaxation. After last night’s match, he’s ready for a break. To let loose and hang with his best friend, Jisung. Seungmin and his boyfriend, Jeongin, were supposed to be arriving within the next hour. He loops his arm around Jisung’s shoulder who lets himself be led to the bar.
“Shots!” Jisung shouts excitedly, already a little tipsy from their pre-game session at the place they share. Money’s been tight, with all that he owes the Chong Syndicate. Well, technically the money his father owes them. He gambled away Changbin’s savings his late mother had set aside for him, an aspiration for her son to go to college, graduate, and chase his dream of creating his own masterpieces. He creates graffiti art nowadays, stuck to criminal acts of boxing for a gang and decorating the streets of Seoul with artistic renditions worthy, according to Jisung, of being showcased in the finest museums.
“What can I get you?” The bartender gives Changbin a once over, clearly checking him out. He delights in the blatant appraisal of his body. He knows people think he’s hot, and dressed how he is tonight with a tight fitted black tee tucked into equally tight black jeans with combat boots to match, he knows he looks fuckable, which is obviously his goal.
“Tequila.” He looks at Jisung who grins, a wicked promise of a verifiably crazy night. “A handful of shots if you wouldn’t mind.”
He downs two, one right after the other, and takes the third after he notices the way Jisung sways after his two. “Are you sure I don’t need to stay by your side and keep anyone from having their way with you? You look absolutely plastered, Jisung.”
“Let them have their way,” Jisung sighs, dreamily before grabbing Changbin’s hand and dragging him to the middle of the dance floor.
Changbin snorts at his best friend’s ridiculous thirst. He dances next to Jisung, a steady presence making sure his best friend doesn’t collapse onto the nearest person and land flat on his ass. He quickly loses himself in the music. Closing his eyes, he runs his hands up his stomach, rocking his hips to the beat. He opens his eyes, half lidded gaze locking onto another man across the room who watches him with a hazy lust that has Changbin smirking before realizing that Han is no longer next to him. He curses under his breath and scans the room. He finds Han cuddling in a booth next to an amused Seugnmin and Jeongin. He sighs in relief, knowing Jisung is safe. Turning to catch the beautiful specimen of a human that was definitely checking him out, he sighs once more, disappointed that he’s lost sight of him.
He’s about to walk off the dance floor to join his friends when he feels a hand on his wrist and hears a smooth voice. He can hear the smirk on his lips in the intonation of his question. “Leaving so soon?”
He’s spun to meet warm brown eyes barely covered by a soft fringe, soft curls gracing his forehead. The man before him wears a white, fitted crop top that does nothing to hide the six pack he displays so proudly with a scarlet jewel piercing glistening on his belly button. His black shorts grip his thighs deliciously and Changbin’s mouth waters at the sight of him.
“Not now,” Changbin says. The stranger pulls and spins him around so his ass fits nicely against him. Hands find his waist and he leads Changbin, swaying their hips back and forth. A melodic hum eases past his lips.
“What’s your name?” Changbin whispers. He tilts his head back and stares into the chestnut eyes. His pupils blown wide as Changbin grinds against his hardening cock.
“You can call me Chan,” he says with a confidence that makes Changbin’s knees weak. Hands slide up his frame, gripping the meat of his bicep and guiding his arms to lock behind Chan’s neck, pressing them flush against each other. “What’s your name, love?”
“Changbin,” he says. He feels exposed like this. His chest is a free landscape for Chan’s hands to roam. Chan grips his bicep and presses a chaste kiss to his neck and nuzzles along his jawline. Changbin is hard and aching already, can’t remember the last time he’s gotten off let alone slept with someone. Boxing has taken up most of his time, the demands of the Syndicate always his focus. But now as he turns in Chan’s grasp, wraps his arms around broad shoulders and leans in close so he can feel Chan’s sweet breath, traces of liquor coaxing him closer, Changbin can forget about his woes. He ensnares Chan’s lips with the heated press of his mouth.
Chan kisses him like Changbin is worth desiring, as if he’s carving a space for just him. Desire pools hot and languid in Changbin’s limbs as he pulls Chan impossibly closer, teasing his tongue along the seam of Chan’s lips. He opens his mouth to let Changbin trace tongue to teeth. His hands find Chan’s waist, pulling him impossibly closer, grunting as he feels his arousal trapped between them. They break apart, a heady longing locking their gazes in a heated dance of more and now and not soon enough.
“Come back to my place.” Chan’s grin is wicked, casting Changbin under a spell he entrusts himself to, falls deep within, head over heels cascading like a waterfall at the expert command over his desire. The rational part of his brain tells him distantly that he should tell his friends he’s leaving with a complete stranger, but they all track each other on their phones for this specific purpose, among the dangers of Changbin’s boxing career.
Chan swipes his thumb along Changbin’s bruised lip and Changbin sucks the tip of it into his mouth. The lust addling his mind loosen in the winds as he follows Chan’s retreating back, hands interlocked, guiding him from the club into the chilled night. The moon hangs low and full in the sky, stars twinkling bright, bursting in a heavenly glow, nowhere near as enchanting as the way Chan opens the taxi door and moves in close to him once he’s seated. He commands the driver where to go and then crowds into Changbin’s space once more.
As soon as Chan gets Changbin into his house he shoves him against a wall, kicking the door closed with his foot. It shuts with a slam and startles him, and Chan takes the opportunity to slip a tongue past his lips. Changbin groans, and Chan lifts one of his legs, wrapping it around his waist, leaning into the curve of his body. “Hop up, love.”
Changbin obliges happily by guiding his other leg around Chan’s waist, knotting his legs together as Chan hoists him up and carries him into the kitchen. Their lips are ensnared in a magnetic pull, electric want coursing through them from where their bodies connect, a current traveling, zipping down Chan’s spine and coiling like hot wire in his gut. He nips at Changbin’s lip and tugs, only to release his mouth and trail kisses down his neck. He sucks a mark onto his shoulder, hoping it will bruise and leave a mark for the next day. Remind Changbin who fucked him so well and good. Changbin’s hands come up to grasp his hair and he whines at the sudden, sharp bite of teeth. Changbin’s head falls back, giving Chan more access to his throat.
“Wow,” Changbin’s eyes widen in surprise, taking in the expanse of Chan’s house. The large windows showcasing a range of green grass in the backyard, willows lining the edges of his property. There’s a grand sectional sofa, a muted gold complementing the royal purple curtains and the navy blue rug just in front of the television. “Your place is incredible.”
Chan smiles against Changbin’s neck and peers up at him. Changbin blushes scarlet, a sweet rosy red that endears Chan to him even more. “Yes, my house is wonderful. May I please take your clothes off?”
Changbin’s laugh is bright and contagious. He leans in to kiss Chan, a chaste press of lips before ripping his shirt, throwing it behind him on the floor. It falls haphazard and Chan is exposed to the beauty of Changbin’s chest. There’s scars mottled across his form, bruises softly healing and a surge of worry rushes through Chan, but the way Changbin stares at him as if it's nothing has him storing this conversation away for later. He shocks himself with the surety that he feels in there being a later. He kisses Changbin’s left pectoral, nipping at the bud before taking it between his teeth. Changbin moans out his name and Chan never wants to hear his name ever again unless it’s a whine emanating from Changbin’s mouth.
He plays with the bud of his other nipple, squeezing and teasing it between his deft fingers. Changbin presses into him. His right hand threads through Chan’s hair and the left sneaks in between their bodies palming Chan through his ridiculously tight shorts.
Chan breaks free from Changbin with a mischievous glint to his eyes. He stands back, grieves the loss of Changbin’s heat, though he can still feel it in the burning track of his eyes down his torso and body. He divests himself of his clothing and stands naked in front of Changbin whose eyes are an unholy dark, a vicious longing takes root in Chan and he smirks at the effect he has on the man before him.
Changbin hops from the counter, and pulls his skinny jeans off in one swift motion before crowding into Chan’s space. He takes steady steps toward him, and Chan walks backward. They’re locked in a flaming dance of give and take, chase and hunt, and the way Changbin stalks forward toward him and pushes him not unkindly against the wall leaves Chan breathless.
“How do you want to do this?” Chan whispers. He grunts as Changbin takes his cock in hand, swipes a finger over the precum budding at the tip and slides his hand down with gentle strokes. He arches on his toes. “Fuck!”
“Yes, I would like to do that very much,” Changbin smirks. He drops to his knees in front of Chan and before Chan can even prepare himself for the welcome heat of Changbin’s mouth, the ridiculous man eases his cock past his lips guiding his hips forward, encouraging him to slide deeper and deeper. Stars ignite in his vision, bright bursts of light floating in the corners of his sight.
“Changbin-ah! I’m aware that’s the end goal, but–fuck! How do you want to get there?” Chan asks as Changbin pulls off his cock, lazily pumping him to full hardness with an ease that makes Chan never want to let this man leave. For the rest of his days, he wants Changbin’s hand on his dick.
“Can I fuck you?”
Chan groans.
“I really wanna fuck you, hyung,” Changbin winks at him and slips his dick back into his mouth, taking him to the hilt. He can feel the breaths exhaling from his nose against his skin and it sends goosebumps up his spine, down his arms. Changbin guides Chan’s hands to the back of his head and stares up at him, refusing to break his gaze as Chan fucks his face. Tears pool in the corners of Changbin’s eyes and he gags once as Chan’s cock slips deep, rubbing against the back of his throat. But as soon as Chan starts to let go and pull back, Changbin grips his bare ass and guides his hips forward.
Chan’s head falls back against the wall with a long drawn out moan. Changbin is going to be the death of him. He is going to die right here, spread out in front of a man who he doesn’t even know, fucking his pretty mouth. Saliva slips past Changbin’s lips and Chan brushes a hand over his mouth, teasing the seam of his lips where his cock is buried deep. This man worships Chan’s cock as if Chan himself were an altar to succumb to one's sins fully, a lament turned litany turned prayer as he sucks deeper.
Chan chases the heat, burning and coalescing in his belly, crashing into wave after wave of pleasure, beseeching grace from Changbin, a divine creature he fears he will forever be enchanted by. Then suddenly and with a desperate groan of Changbin’s name, he pulls off Chan’s cock and he sags against the wall, panting. And still achingly hard.
“God, you’re lovely,” Changbin croaks, his voice hoarse from the way Chan fucked it raw. “Can I fuck you against the window, please. I really want to, want the world below to see you splatter the obnoxiously, nice curtains with your cum as I pound into you, leaving our handprints behind, smeared on your windows.”
Chan thinks faintly he could have just come from those words. “Yes, that, all of that.” A firm resolve settles in him to not let this be a one night stand. He wants to wake in the morning to do this all once more. Needs his turn to make Changbin unravel beneath him, but for right now?
He lets Changbin guide him to the window. He can see how wrecked they both look in their reflection. Changbin’s hair is mussed, the curls cast every which way, his lips bruised and so kissable. Bang Chan’s red cock leaks and where Changbin grabbed his ass, there’s handprints. He stares in the mirror and catches Changbin’s eye. He nods to the drawer at the end table and Changbin waltzes over without a care in the world to pull out the lube stashed there. Chan swallows thickly as he returns to the spot behind him. He reaches for Chan’s hands and lays them flat against the cool glass. Chan shivers against the chill and relishes in the warmth of Changbin’s hands on his waist, coaxing him forward, and arching his ass in the air.
He hears the click of the cap, and feels two fingers trace his entrance, slick with lube. The first finger is a welcome intrusion, it slides in with little resistance and Chan fucks himself back on it. He enjoys the slight stretch, the burst of pain before it melds into the dizzying background of want, need, claim, fuck. “More, Bin, come on.”
Changbin nips kisses along his neck and slides in the second finger. “Look at you like this. All eager for me to fuck you.”
And Chan does. He stares and doesn’t even recognize himself, and some part of him thrives in that realization. He looks debauched in the best way, pink hues blossoming up his neck and spreading across his face. He leans back into Changbin, resting his cheek on his shoulder and grinds back into the fingers. Finally, when Changbin adds a third, Chan knows he’s ready. Been ready. Needs him now because if not, he’s going to come long and hard and not from Changbin’s dick and that’s the last thing he wants in the world right now.
“I”m ready, god, please just fuck me already.”
Changbin whispers a soft, “Fuck.” The press of the head of his cock against his quivering hole has Chan shuddering. He places his hands firmly against the glass, groaning deep as Changbin inches himself deeper and deeper inside him.
“Fuck just like that.” Changbin grunts, taking his time to ease into Chan’s velvety warmth. “You take me so good, Chan.”
Chan presses his forehead against the cooling glass, and it heats under his touch. Sweat beads on his brow as Changbin starts to fuck into him with an ardor that has his feet sliding and he grinds his heels into the floor, pressing down on the delicious burn and ache of the drag of his cock. He’s thick and Chan whines at the way he snaps his hips forward, pulling out slowly to snap in again. “Faster, love. I’m going to, ah, come too soon unless–fuck!”
Changbin slams his hips into him, grinding minute presses against his prostate. Chan’s walls tighten around Changbin’s dick and he groans loud in Chan’s ear. He grips Chan’s dick, swipes a hand over him, pumps him once, twice, and Chan comes with a grunt. Changbin continues to thrust into him as Chan clenches around his dick, his orgasm racing his heart, his vision turning black at the edges, and the chilled window fogging with his gasping breaths.
Changbin chases his release, finds it in Chan’s body and fills him. He presses a tender kiss to Chan’s flushed cheeks and eases his body weight against him. Chan’s eyes flutter closed, exhausted and spent. He lets himself be led, with gentle hands, and affection from Changbin so heart wrenching that Chan finds himself leaning into his touch and ministrations. When Changbin cleans him and tucks him into bed, it isn’t such a surprise that Chan asks him to stay. And it isn’t too shocking that Changbin climbs under the covers with him, pulling him close and tucking him against him with a devotion that makes a longing in his chest swell like a crashing tidal wave.