Work Text:
The air conditioning hummed too loudly, and Yeonjun hated it. He scrolled through his phone with one hand, the other tucked under his head, trying to ignore the way the mattress dipped slightly toward Soobin’s sleeping form beside him.
Soobin was curled on his side, facing away, his shoulders rising and falling in slow, deep breaths.
The hotel sheets were thin, barely covering his waist, and Yeonjun could see the curve of his spine, the faint shadows between his ribs. He’d kicked off most of the blankets hours ago, leaving his bare back exposed to the dim glow of Yeonjun’s phone screen.
Yeonjun told himself to look away. Instead, he let his gaze linger—Soobin’s skin still slightly damp from the shower, the way his pajama shorts rode low on his hips, the way his hair stuck up in stupid, sleep-mussed tufts.
He looked soft.
Vulnerable.
Yeonjun’s throat tightened.
He should’ve been exhausted. They’d performed for hours, sweat soaking through their clothes, voices rough from singing. But now, wired and restless, Yeonjun couldn’t stop staring. Soobin shifted slightly, his breath hitching—just a small noise, barely audible—and Yeonjun froze, thumb hovering over his screen.
The silence stretched. Then Soobin sighed, rolling onto his back, arm flopping outward. His fingers brushed Yeonjun’s bare shoulder, warm and accidental. Yeonjun inhaled sharply.
The touch lingered, burning hotter than it had any right to. Yeonjun’s breath caught, his skin prickling where Soobin’s fingers rested, slack and unaware. He could pull away. Should pull away. But his body betrayed him, muscles locking as if moving would shatter something fragile between them.
Soobin murmured something unintelligible, lips parted, lashes fluttering against his cheeks. His hand slid further—just an inch—fingertips grazing Yeonjun’s collarbone. A jolt shot through him, electric and dizzying.
"Bin," Yeonjun whispered, testing the word, voice rough. No response. Soobin’s chest rose, slow and steady, his throat exposed, pulse visible beneath his skin.
Yeonjun’s fingers twitched with the urge to trace it, to feel that rhythm under his own touch.
His phone screen dimmed, then went black, plunging them into near-darkness. Only the faint glow from the city outside outlined Soobin’s form—the slope of his nose, the dip of his waistband, the way his stomach curved as he breathed.
Yeonjun swallowed hard.
The heat crept up Yeonjun’s thighs like a slow, insistent tide, pooling low in his stomach.
He clenched his jaw, willing it away, but his body betrayed him—his cock twitched against the fabric of his shorts, half-hard and aching.
His pulse thrummed in his ears, loud enough that he swore Soobin could hear it.
Soobin’s lips parted slightly in sleep, pink and chapped from the stage, and Yeonjun’s gaze dropped there, tracing the curve of his bottom lip. He imagined pressing his thumb against it, feeling the warmth, the give—would Soobin stir? Would his breath hitch? The thought sent another sharp curl of want through him, and he bit the inside of his cheek, forcing his eyes away.
But then—Soobin shifted again, rolling onto his side toward Yeonjun this time, his thigh brushing Yeonjun’s knee.
The contact burned.
Soobin’s shirtless torso was right there, inches away, his collarbones stark in the dim light, the dip of his waist disappearing beneath the loose waistband of his shorts. Yeonjun’s fingers flexed against the mattress, itching to touch, to skim over the smooth plane of his stomach, to feel the jump of muscle beneath his fingertips.
"Fuck," Yeonjun breathed, barely audible.
His shorts were too tight now, the fabric straining, and he pressed his palm flat against his own thigh, trying to ground himself. But Soobin’s scent—warm and clean from the shower, faintly sweet—filled the space between them, and Yeonjun’s resolve frayed like a thread pulled too taut.
Yeonjun exhaled through his nose, slow and measured, fingers twitching against his thigh before sliding inward. The fabric of his shorts strained against his palm as he pressed down, just enough to feel the heat of himself beneath. A quiet groan threatened to escape his throat, and he swallowed it, teeth sinking into his bottom lip.
Soobin’s breath remained steady beside him—unaware, untouched—but the warmth of him was so close. Yeonjun’s thumb rubbed slow circles over the damp fabric, teasing himself, the pressure just shy of enough. He squeezed, hips lifting slightly off the mattress, and his breath hitched.
Fuck.
He shouldn’t—not here, not like this—but the ache coiled tighter with every second, his pulse pounding between his legs.
He let his fingers drag lower, tracing the outline of himself through the thin material, and his stomach clenched. The friction was maddening, too light and too much all at once.
Soobin sighed in his sleep, shifting again, and Yeonjun froze as a knee bumped against his thigh. The contact sent a jolt through him, sharp and electric.
Soobin’s skin was warm, his bare leg smooth against Yeonjun’s, and the proximity made his head spin. He could feel the weight of Soobin’s exhale against his shoulder, the faint tickle of his breath.
“Bin,” Yeonjun whispered, half-desperate, half-pleading—though for what, he wasn’t sure.
Soobin shifted again, rolling onto his stomach with a soft, sleepy grunt—his face buried in the pillow, arms tucked beneath his chest.
The movement pulled his shorts impossibly lower, revealing the dip of his waist, the swell of his hips, and—fuck—the curve of his ass, round and perfect under the thin fabric.
Yeonjun’s breath stuttered. He’d spent years stealing glances—dressing rooms, practice mirrors, tight stage outfits—but never like this. Never so close, so exposed, so *his* if he just reached out.
The sheets clung to Soobin’s thighs, the fabric riding up as he settled, and Yeonjun’s fingers twitched with the need to drag them back down.
Or maybe up.
His throat went dry. He could see the faint indent of Soobin’s spine trailing down to where his shorts barely covered him, the dim light catching the sweat-damp skin at the small of his back. He imagined pressing his mouth there, tasting salt and soap, feeling Soobin shiver under his lips.
“You’re fucking killing me,” Yeonjun muttered under his breath, voice rough.
His cock ached, straining against his shorts, and he bit back a groan as he adjusted himself, the fabric sticking to his skin.
Soobin sighed, hips shifting slightly against the mattress, and Yeonjun’s stomach clenched. Was he—? No. Just sleep. But the way his body moved, slow and unconscious, was obscene.
Yeonjun dragged a hand over his face, exhaling sharply.
He should turn away. Should sleep.
But then Soobin arched slightly, stretching in his sleep, and the hem of his shorts rode higher, exposing the barest hint of skin just beneath—smooth, untouched, begging for teeth. Yeonjun’s pulse roared in his ears. He could count every freckle there if he leaned closer. Could map them with his tongue.
Yeonjun’s fingers finally slipped beneath the waistband of his shorts, hissing at the contact—hot skin against hotter skin.
His cock twitched in his palm, already leaking, and he bit back a groan as he dragged his thumb over the head, smearing precum down the shaft. He curled his fingers tight, pumping slowly, hips lifting just enough to chase the friction.
The sheets rustled with every movement, too loud in the quiet room, but he couldn’t stop—not when the image of Soobin’s bare waist was burned into his eyelids every time he blinked.
A sharp inhale cut through the silence—not his own.
Yeonjun stilled, hand frozen around himself, pulse hammering against his ribs. Soobin’s breathing had changed. No longer the deep, even rhythm of sleep but something tighter, controlled. Yeonjun’s gaze flicked to Soobin’s face—lips parted, lashes trembling against his cheeks like he was fighting to keep them shut.
The realization hit him like a punch to the gut: Soobin was awake. And he was letting Yeonjun touch himself beside him.
Yeonjun’s stomach twisted, heat pooling lower. He could stop. Should stop.
But the weight of Soobin’s silent permission—the unspoken dare—tightened his grip instead. He stroked himself again, slower this time, thumb circling the tip just to hear the hitch in Soobin’s breath.
There it was—soft, barely there, but unmistakable.
Yeonjun’s fingers hovered over the curve of Soobin’s ass, trembling slightly—not from hesitation, but from the sheer impossibility of this moment. Soobin’s breathing was too careful now, his lips pressed together in a way they never were in sleep.
The air between them thickened, charged with something unspoken, and Yeonjun could feel his own pulse in his fingertips as they skimmed the hem of Soobin’s shorts.
The fabric was thin, damp with sweat or the remnants of their shared shower, and it clung to Soobin’s skin like a second layer. Yeonjun’s palm flattened against the swell of his ass, heat radiating through the material, and he exhaled sharply through his nose.
Soobin didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away—just let out the softest, most controlled breath, his hips shifting infinitesimally closer.
Yeonjun’s grip on his own cock tightened reflexively, his thumb smearing precum down the length as he stroked slowly, his other hand kneading Soobin’s flesh through the shorts.
The duality of it—the slick slide of his own touch and the firm, yielding warmth under his palm—sent sparks up his spine. He dragged his fingers lower, tracing the crease where fabric met skin, and Soobin’s breath hitched audibly this time, his thighs tensing.
Yeonjun's fingers curled around the waistband of Soobin's shorts, the fabric warm from his skin. He hesitated—just for a second—before tugging them down slowly, revealing the smooth curve of Soobin's ass, the dimples at the base of his spine.
The shorts caught halfway, clinging to his thighs, and Yeonjun exhaled sharply through his nose.
Soobin's breath stuttered, but he didn't move, didn't protest—just let Yeonjun peel the fabric away like unwrapping something forbidden.
The silence between them was thick, charged with unspoken words. Yeonjun traced the newly exposed skin with his fingertips, feather-light, mapping the dip of Soobin's waist, the swell of his hips.
Soobin shivered, his muscles tensing under the touch, but still, he kept his eyes shut, his lips parted in quiet, controlled breaths.
Yeonjun knew this game. Knew Soobin was letting him take the lead, testing how far he'd go.
The realization sent a jolt of heat straight to his cock, already heavy in his own shorts. He pressed his palm flat against Soobin's ass, kneading gently, and Soobin's hips twitched forward, a soft, involuntary noise escaping his throat.
The mattress creaked softly as Yeonjun shifted onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow to get a better view. Soobin’s breath hitched—just barely—but he didn’t move, didn’t open his eyes, his fingers still curled loosely into the pillow beneath his head.
The dim light from the window caught the sweat-damp curve of his lower back, the way his shorts were bunched around his thighs, fabric straining with every shallow inhale. Yeonjun’s pulse hammered in his throat.
Then—slow, deliberate—Yeonjun pressed his palm flat against the curve of one cheek, spreading him gently apart.
Soobin’s thighs trembled, a sharp inhale tearing from his lips before he could stifle it.
The sound punched through Yeonjun like a live wire, his own cock twitching against the fabric of his shorts. He could feel the heat radiating from Soobin’s skin, could see the way his hole clenched instinctively under the exposure, pink and fluttering.
Yeonjun’s fingertip hovered just above the flushed, clenching skin—so close he could feel the heat radiating off it. Soobin’s breath stuttered again, his thighs tensing minutely, but he didn’t move, didn’t speak.
The silence between them was thick, syrupy with anticipation.
Then—Yeonjun pressed the pad of his finger against Soobin’s hole, just a whisper of contact, barely there.
Soobin’s entire body jerked, a choked-off gasp escaping his lips before he could stop it. His fingers twisted into the sheets, knuckles whitening, but he still didn’t turn, didn’t open his eyes. Just lay there, trembling, as Yeonjun dragged his fingertip in a slow, deliberate circle around the rim, teasing the sensitive skin without pressing in.
Yeonjun dominates with slow, deliberate movements, exposing Soobin fully and tracing his entrance with teasing fingertips, eliciting sharp, overwhelmed responses.
"Bin," Yeonjun murmured, his voice low and rough—not a question, but a statement, fingers still tracing slow circles around Soobin's rim. "I know you're awake."
Soobin's breath hitched, shoulders tensing, but he didn't move otherwise. His lashes fluttered against his cheeks, lips pressed together like he was biting back a sound.
Yeonjun exhaled through his nose, dragging his fingertip down to the crease of Soobin's thigh, feeling the muscle jump under his touch.
"You gonna pretend all night?" He pressed his thumb back against Soobin's hole, firmer this time, just enough to make the tight ring of muscle twitch. "Or are you gonna look at me?"
Soobin’s lashes fluttered open—slow, hesitant—but he didn’t turn his head.
Yeonjun could see the way his throat worked around a swallow, the bob of his Adam’s apple catching the dim light. His fingers were still tangled in the sheets, knuckles pale with tension.
Yeonjun didn’t let up. He dragged his thumb back up, pressing just enough to make Soobin’s hips jerk forward against the mattress, a quiet, punched-out noise escaping his lips. "Hyung," Soobin whispered, voice rough with sleep and something else—something raw.
Yeonjun hummed, low and deliberate, his other hand still working himself in slow strokes. "Yeah?" He leaned closer, his breath hot against the shell of Soobin’s ear. "You gonna tell me to stop?"
Soobin’s breath stuttered—sharp, unsteady—as Yeonjun’s thumb pressed harder against his rim, the pressure just shy of breaking past the tight ring of muscle. His hips jerked forward instinctively, seeking friction against the mattress, and Yeonjun smirked against the curve of his shoulder.
“You’re quiet,” Yeonjun murmured, lips brushing Soobin’s skin. His other hand kept stroking himself lazily, precum slicking his fingers with every slow drag. “Not even gonna deny it?”
Soobin exhaled shakily, fingers twisting tighter into the sheets. His thighs trembled under Yeonjun’s touch, but he still didn’t turn his head, didn’t look at him. Just whispered, voice hoarse, “...Knew you’d notice.”
Yeonjun pulled back suddenly, the loss of contact making Soobin’s breath hitch audibly.
Before Soobin could react—before he could even turn his head—Yeonjun’s hands were on him, firm and insistent, rolling him onto his back with a single rough motion. The sheets tangled between Soobin’s legs as he landed with a soft thump, his shorts riding up higher, the fabric strained tight across his thighs.
Yeonjun loomed over him, one knee pressing into the mattress beside Soobin’s hip, his shadow swallowing him whole.
Soobin’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his lips parted around unspoken words. He finally looked up—really looked—and Yeonjun’s stomach dropped. Soobin’s eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, his cheeks flushed pink beneath the faint glow of the city lights.
His hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction, and his lower lip was caught between his teeth like he was trying to hold back whatever sound threatened to escape.
Yeonjun braced one hand beside Soobin’s head, leaning down until their breaths mingled, hot and uneven. “There you are,” he murmured, voice rough. His free hand trailed down Soobin’s chest, fingertips skimming over the rapid flutter of his heartbeat. “Finally looking at me.”
Yeonjun didn’t blink. Couldn’t. Soobin’s breath hitched beneath him, his chest rising in shallow, uneven bursts—his skin flushed pink from collarbones to cheeks, lips bitten red and swollen.
The sight punched the air from Yeonjun’s lungs. Seven years of stolen glances, of rehearsals where Soobin’s shirt rode up, of shared dressing rooms where Yeonjun pretended not to stare—none of it compared to this. Soobin laid bare beneath him, his thighs shifting restlessly, his cock straining against the fabric of his shorts.
"You—" Soobin started, voice cracking, fingers twitching at his sides like he didn’t know where to put them.
Yeonjun dragged his palm down Soobin’s stomach, slow and deliberate, feeling the muscles jump under his touch. "Me?" he murmured, thumb hooking into the waistband of Soobin’s shorts, tugging just enough to make Soobin’s breath stutter. "I’m tired of pretending."
Then he leaned in—slow, achingly slow—until their lips brushed, featherlight.
The first touch was tentative, testing, barely more than shared breath. Soobin went rigid beneath him, fingers clutching at the sheets, but he didn’t pull away. Didn’t push. Just exhaled shakily against Yeonjun’s mouth, his lashes fluttering shut.
Yeonjun pressed closer, deepening the kiss by increments—first the slide of lips, then the tentative part of Soobin’s, yielding under his like he’d been waiting for this.
The taste of him was familiar, toothpaste and something inherently Soobin, warm and a little sweet. Yeonjun swallowed the soft noise that escaped him, fingers curling into the fabric at Soobin’s hip.
Yeonjun didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. The air between them was thick, charged like the moment before a lightning strike, and Soobin’s gaze held his—wide, dark, trembling with something raw. His fingers twitched at his sides, nails digging into his palms, but he didn’t look away.
Didn’t flinch when Yeonjun’s hand slid lower, fingertips catching on the bunched fabric of Soobin’s shorts where they clung to his thighs.
The silence was deafening.
Yeonjun hooked his fingers into the waistband again, tugging—slow, deliberate—watching the way Soobin’s breath hitched as the fabric inched down, revealing the sharp jut of his hipbones, the trail of fine hair leading lower.
Soobin’s cock sprang free, flushed and leaking against his stomach, and Yeonjun’s throat went dry at the sight.
Yeonjun’s gaze dragged up Soobin’s body like a physical touch—slow, deliberate, savoring every inch. The dip of his waist, the sweat-slick curve of his stomach, the way his cock lay heavy against his thigh, flushed and twitching with every uneven breath.
But it was the sight of Soobin’s hole—pink, fluttering, exposed—that made Yeonjun’s mouth water. He traced the rim with his thumb again, just a whisper of contact, and Soobin’s hips jerked, a punched-out whimper escaping his lips.
“Fuck,” Yeonjun breathed, shifting closer until his knees bracketed Soobin’s thighs. “Look at you.” His fingers skimmed higher, over the trembling plane of Soobin’s stomach, the rapid flutter of his pulse at his throat, finally cradling his jaw.
Soobin’s skin burned under his touch, his lips parted around shaky breaths.
Yeonjun tilted Soobin’s face toward him, thumb brushing the apple of his cheek. “Eyes on me, Bin.”
Soobin's throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his gaze flickering between Yeonjun's lips and his eyes—dark, uncertain, but holding. His fingers trembled where they clutched the sheets, knuckles white.
Yeonjun’s thumb traced the curve of Soobin’s cheekbone, slow and deliberate, before sliding down to press against his parted lips. "You okay?" The question was rough, barely more than a breath, but it hung between them like a live wire.
Soobin's breath hitched when Yeonjun's thumb pressed against his lips—warm, insistent—and for a moment, he just stared up at him, lips parting around unspoken words.
Then, barely audible, he whispered, "I... I don't know what to do."
Yeonjun stilled, fingers freezing against Soobin's jaw. The confession hung between them, raw and vulnerable, and for the first time that night, uncertainty flickered across Yeonjun's face. His brows furrowed slightly, thumb stilling against Soobin's lower lip. "What?"
Soobin's throat worked as he swallowed, his gaze dropping to Yeonjun's collarbone, then back up—hesitant, almost shy. "I don't—" He wet his lips, voice cracking. "I've never... with a man. Only women."
Yeonjun's breath caught in his throat, fingers loosening slightly against Soobin's jaw.
The confession settled between them like a physical weight—heavy, undeniable. For a heartbeat, he just stared at Soobin, at the way his lashes trembled against his cheeks, at the nervous flicker of his tongue wetting his lips.
Then, slowly, Yeonjun exhaled through his nose, thumb dragging down to trace the column of Soobin’s throat. "That's okay," he murmured, voice softer now, fingers gentling against Soobin’s skin. "We don’t have to do anything."
His other hand lingered at Soobin’s hip, fingertips brushing the bunched fabric of his shorts—not pushing, not demanding. Just touching.
Soobin swallowed hard, his pulse rabbiting beneath Yeonjun’s fingers. "But I—" His voice cracked, hips shifting restlessly against the mattress. "I want to. I just... don’t know how."
Yeonjun’s lips quirked, something warm and fond flickering in his gaze. He leaned down until their foreheads nearly touched, noses brushing. "Then let me show you," he whispered, breath mingling with Soobin’s. "Tell me to stop anytime."
Soobin’s eyes fluttered shut, his chest rising in a slow, shuddering inhale. Then—nodding—he whispered, "Okay."
Yeonjun’s lips brushed Soobin’s again—slow, achingly slow—letting the warmth of his breath mingle between them before finally closing the last millimeter of distance. Soobin exhaled sharply through his nose, fingers twitching against the sheets, but his lips parted easily under Yeonjun’s, yielding like he’d been waiting for this moment his entire life.
The kiss was soft at first, almost tentative, just the press of mouths and the shared taste of toothpaste and sleep.
Yeonjun tilted his head slightly, deepening the angle, and Soobin made a quiet, punched-out sound against his lips, his hands finally lifting—hesitant—to curl into Yeonjun’s hair. His fingers trembled against Yeonjun’s scalp, tugging just enough to make Yeonjun groan low in his throat.
Yeonjun pulled back just enough to see Soobin’s face—flushed, lips swollen, eyes dark with something between wonder and hunger.
He thumbed at Soobin’s lower lip, wet from their kiss, and Soobin’s tongue darted out instinctively, brushing against Yeonjun’s fingertip. The contact sent a jolt straight to Yeonjun’s cock, already straining against his shorts.
“Good?” Yeonjun murmured, voice rough.
Soobin nodded, swallowing hard, his gaze flickering down to Yeonjun’s mouth like he couldn’t help himself. “Again,” he whispered, barely audible, and Yeonjun didn’t need to be told twice.
Yeonjun’s lips pressed against Soobin’s with deliberate slowness—not tentative, but savoring, like he’d mapped every possible way this moment could unfold and chose the one that would unravel them both.
His palm cradled Soobin’s jaw, thumb brushing the hinge where tension trembled, while his other hand slid down to anchor itself at the dip of Soobin’s waist. The contrast of textures—Soobin’s sleep-soft skin under his fingertips, the damp heat of his mouth yielding—sent a shudder through Yeonjun’s spine.
Soobin’s fingers clutched at Yeonjun’s shoulders, blunt nails digging crescent moons into flesh as he arched up into the kiss with a noise that was half gasp, half plea.
The sound vibrated against Yeonjun’s tongue, igniting a slow-burning hunger low in his gut. He could feel the erratic flutter of Soobin’s pulse beneath his thumb, the way his breath hitched whenever Yeonjun’s teeth grazed his lower lip.
Breaking away just enough to watch Soobin’s face, Yeonjun traced the wet seam of his lips with his index finger.
“Breathe,” he murmured, though his own chest felt tight, oxygen-starved.
Soobin’s eyelashes fluttered open, revealing pupils blown so wide his irises were nearly swallowed. His lips glistened, parted around uneven breaths, and Yeonjun couldn’t resist dragging his thumb across the swell of the bottom one, pressing down just enough to feel the give of flesh.
A whimper escaped Soobin’s throat, his hips jerking reflexively—his cock, still flushed and heavy against his stomach, twitched with the movement. Yeonjun’s gaze dropped to the slick bead of precum gathering at the tip, then back up to Soobin’s face, holding eye contact as he licked his own lips slowly.
The effect was instantaneous: Soobin’s thighs trembled, his fingers tightening convulsively in Yeonjun’s hair.
“Hyung,” Soobin whispered, voice cracking around the syllable. The honorific, usually casual, now felt intimate—a confession wrapped in a single word.
Yeonjun hummed in response, leaning down to brush his nose along Soobin’s jawline, inhaling the scent of hotel soap and something deeper, uniquely Soobin.
He kissed the frantic pulse at his throat, then lower, teeth scraping lightly over a collarbone as Soobin’s back arched off the mattress.
Yeonjun’s lips trailed fire down the column of Soobin’s throat—slow, deliberate—pausing to suck lightly at the hollow beneath his jaw where his pulse fluttered like a trapped bird. Soobin’s breath hitched, fingers tightening in Yeonjun’s hair, but he didn’t pull away, just arched his neck further in silent invitation.
The taste of salt and sleep clung to Soobin’s skin as Yeonjun worked his way lower, tracing the sharp line of his collarbone with his tongue before scraping his teeth over the delicate ridge. Soobin gasped, hips jerking upward involuntarily, his cock brushing against Yeonjun’s abdomen and leaving a sticky smear of precum in its wake.
Yeonjun hummed against his skin, fingers splaying across Soobin’s ribs as he moved lower still, mapping the taut plane of his chest with open-mouthed kisses. When he reached the peaked bud of Soobin’s nipple—pink and stiff with arousal—he paused, glancing up through his lashes.
"Anyone ever touch you here?" Yeonjun murmured, breath ghosting over the sensitive nub as his thumb circled the other, applying just enough pressure to make Soobin’s stomach muscles jump.
Soobin shook his head jerkily, his voice wrecked when he managed, "N-no." The admission seemed to embarrass him; his cheeks darkened, eyes skittering away to focus on the ceiling like he couldn’t bear to meet Yeonjun’s gaze.
The contrast between them was obscenely perfect—Yeonjun still in his shorts, fabric clinging to his hips where precum had soaked through, while Soobin lay bare beneath him, skin flushed and exposed from collarbones to thighs.
The dim light caught the sweat-damp hollow of Soobin's throat, the way his cock twitched against his stomach whenever Yeonjun's breath hit a particularly sensitive spot.
"Never?" Yeonjun murmured against Soobin's ribs, lips skimming the rapid flutter of his heartbeat.
His thumb rolled the stiff peak between his fingers, relishing the way Soobin's breath stuttered—high and thin—his hips jerking like he didn't know whether to press up into the touch or shy away.
"Not even like this?" He pinched lightly, just enough to make Soobin gasp, back arching off the mattress.
Soobin shook his head again, fingers twisting into the sheets. "N-no," he choked out, thighs trembling as Yeonjun's mouth descended lower, tracing the tense line of his abdomen with deliberate kisses. "I—ah—didn't think—"
His words dissolved into a moan when Yeonjun's tongue swirled around his navel, dipping inside just enough to make his stomach muscles clench.
Yeonjun chuckled against his skin, the vibration sending another shudder through Soobin's body. "You didn't think you'd like it?" His hands slid down to grip Soobin's hips, thumbs pressing into the sharp jut of bone as he kissed lower, slower, savoring every hitched breath. "Or you didn't think I'd be the one doing it?"
Soobin made a sound halfway between a whimper and a laugh, his cock twitching against his stomach, flushed deep red and leaking steadily. "Both," he admitted, voice cracking, fingers finally releasing the sheets to tangle hesitantly in Yeonjun's hair. "Hyung, please—"
Yeonjun’s fingers traced circles around Soobin’s nipples—slow, almost teasing—his touch feather-light at first, just enough to make the pink buds stiffen further under his fingertips. Soobin’s breath hitched, his chest rising sharply, and Yeonjun smirked against the taut skin of his stomach, dragging his tongue along the sensitive dip of his navel.
"Jun—" Soobin gasped, fingers tightening in Yeonjun’s hair, blunt nails scraping his scalp.
Yeonjun hummed, low and deliberate, rolling one nipple between his thumb and forefinger while his mouth moved lower, lips brushing the trail of fine hair leading down.
Soobin’s hips jerked when Yeonjun’s teeth grazed his hipbone, a soft, punched-out sound escaping his lips.
"You’re so sensitive," Yeonjun murmured, pressing a kiss just above where Soobin’s cock lay flushed against his stomach. His free hand slid down to grip Soobin’s thigh, spreading him wider against the mattress—possessive, claiming—and Soobin whimpered, his legs trembling under the touch.
Yeonjun glanced up, watching the way Soobin’s lips parted around uneven breaths, his lashes fluttering like he couldn’t decide whether to close his eyes or stare.
Yeonjun’s mouth closed around Soobin’s nipple with deliberate slowness—not tentative, but savoring—tongue swirling the stiffened peak before sucking gently.
Soobin arched off the mattress with a choked gasp, fingers scrabbling at Yeonjun’s shoulders, his cock twitching against his stomach where a fresh bead of precum welled up.
“F-fuck—” Soobin’s voice cracked, his hips jerking upward as Yeonjun’s thumb grazed his other nipple, rolling it roughly between his fingers.
The contrast—wet heat on one side, sharp friction on the other—made Soobin’s thighs tremble violently, his breath coming in ragged bursts.
Yeonjun hummed around the bud in his mouth, the vibration rippling through Soobin’s chest as his free hand finally—finally—wrapped around Soobin’s cock. The touch was featherlight at first, just a loose circle of fingers tracing the length from base to tip, but Soobin whined high in his throat, his back bowing off the mattress like he’d been electrocuted.
“Hyung, please—” Soobin’s plea dissolved into a moan when Yeonjun’s thumb swiped over the slick head of his cock, smearing precum in slow circles.
His hips jerked helplessly into the touch, but Yeonjun held him down with a firm hand splayed across his stomach, pinning him to the sheets.
“Tell me what you want,” Yeonjun murmured against Soobin’s chest, teeth grazing the abused nipple before soothing it with his tongue. His fingers tightened slightly around Soobin’s cock, a slow stroke from root to tip that had Soobin’s toes curling into the mattress.
Soobin’s hands—usually so hesitant, so unsure—suddenly fisted in Yeonjun’s hair with surprising strength, dragging him up in one desperate motion. Their mouths crashed together, messy and uncoordinated, teeth clacking before Soobin adjusted with a soft whimper, tilting his head to slot their lips together properly.
The kiss burned—hotter than before, hungrier—Soobin’s tongue sweeping against Yeonjun’s like he was trying to memorize the taste.
His fingers trembled where they clung to Yeonjun’s shoulders, blunt nails digging crescents into skin, but there was no hesitation now. Only raw, trembling want.
Yeonjun groaned into the kiss, hips jerking forward instinctively, the damp fabric of his shorts catching against Soobin’s bare thigh.
The friction made them both gasp, Soobin breaking the kiss with a sharp inhale—but before Yeonjun could chase his lips, Soobin’s hands were already sliding down, shaky fingers hooking into the waistband of Yeonjun’s shorts.
"Bin—" Yeonjun started, voice rough, but Soobin wasn’t listening. His eyes—dark, pupils blown wide—flicked up to Yeonjun’s face just once, searching for permission, before yanking the fabric down in one swift motion.
The shorts caught around Yeonjun’s thighs, but it didn’t matter—Soobin’s breath hitched audibly at the sight of him, fully hard and flushed, precum glistening at the tip. His fingers hovered for a heartbeat, hovering over Yeonjun’s hipbones like he was afraid to touch, before slowly—tentatively—wrapping around the base.
Yeonjun groaned, hips jerking forward into the contact, and Soobin’s fingers tightened instinctively, his grip clumsy but earnest.
"You—" Soobin swallowed hard, his thumb brushing the swollen head experimentally, smearing the wetness there. His gaze flickered between Yeonjun’s cock and his face, lips parted around uneven breaths. "You’re so…" He trailed off, fingers flexing, and Yeonjun couldn’t help but laugh—breathy, punched-out—as Soobin’s curiosity overtook his hesitation.
"Pretty?" Yeonjun teased, grinding into Soobin’s grip just to watch his throat bob.
Soobin flushed darker, shaking his head. "Warm," he murmured, like it was a revelation, his thumb tracing the vein along the underside with aching slowness.
The touch was featherlight, barely there, but it sent sparks skittering up Yeonjun’s spine. He braced one hand beside Soobin’s head, leaning down until their foreheads touched, noses brushing.
"You can touch harder," he breathed, guiding Soobin’s fingers with his own, tightening them around his length. "Like this."
Soobin’s fingers flexed tentatively under Yeonjun’s, his grip still hesitant—but when Yeonjun groaned, low and approving, Soobin’s confidence surged. He stroked upward experimentally, thumb swiping over the slick head, and Yeonjun’s hips jerked forward with a punched-out gasp.
The shorts tangled around Yeonjun’s thighs, fabric catching at his knees—half-on, half-off—but neither of them cared. Not when Soobin’s free hand slid up Yeonjun’s bare stomach, fingers splaying over his ribs as if mapping the rapid rise and fall of his breath.
Then Soobin tugged him down—sudden, insistent—their mouths crashing together in a kiss that was all teeth and desperate hunger. Yeonjun groaned into it, his cock twitching in Soobin’s grip, the slide of skin against skin maddening.
Soobin’s hips arched up instinctively, seeking friction, his own cock rubbing against Yeonjun’s stomach—hot, slick, desperate. The contact made them both shudder, Yeonjun breaking the kiss with a sharp inhale.
"Fuck, Bin—" His voice cracked, fingers tightening in Soobin’s hair as their hips rocked together, skin sliding against skin in a slow, filthy grind.
Soobin's fingers hesitated at the elastic band of Yeonjun's shorts—clinging to his thighs like a final barrier—before his grip firmed with sudden resolve. "Off," he breathed against Yeonjun's lips, the word more plea than command. His thumbs hooked under the fabric, tugging insistently. "Take them off. All the way."
Yeonjun stilled, his breath hitching at the raw urgency in Soobin's voice.
He pulled back just enough to see Soobin's face—flushed pink, lips swollen from kissing, eyes dark with determination—and something hot coiled low in his stomach.
Without breaking eye contact, Yeonjun shifted his weight, kneeling up between Soobin's spread thighs.
The shorts slid down his legs, fabric whispering against skin before pooling at his ankles. He kicked them off with a careless motion, the air cool against his bare skin, but Soobin's gaze—raking over him with unabashed hunger—burned hotter than any touch.
Soobin's throat worked as he swallowed, his fingers twitching against the sheets like he wanted to reach out but didn't dare.
"Come back," he whispered, voice cracking. His legs shifted restlessly, knees bumping Yeonjun's calves in silent invitation.
Yeonjun smirked, deliberately slow as he crawled back up Soobin's body, letting their skin brush—thighs, hips, stomachs—until he was hovering over him again, their cocks aligned, barely an inch apart. He braced one hand beside Soobin's head, the other tracing the frantic flutter of his pulse.
Soobin’s fingers tightened against Yeonjun’s ribs—not pushing, but guiding—as he exhaled a shaky breath against Yeonjun’s collarbone.
“Turn over,” he murmured, voice rougher than usual, the words half-buried in Yeonjun’s skin. “Let me—” His thumb brushed the jut of Yeonjun’s hipbone, a silent plea.
Yeonjun’s breath hitched. For a heartbeat, he just stared down at Soobin—at the way his lashes trembled against his cheeks, at the flush creeping down his throat—before yielding with a slow, deliberate roll of his body.
The sheets whispered against his back as he settled against the mattress, arms loose at his sides, watching Soobin through heavy-lidded eyes.
The shift in power was dizzying. Soobin—usually so hesitant, so careful—hovered over him now with a quiet intensity that made Yeonjun’s pulse stutter.
His hands braced on either side of Yeonjun’s shoulders, knees slotting between Yeonjun’s thighs, spreading them wider without hesitation. The dim light caught the sweat-slick curve of his spine, the tremble in his arms as he leaned down, lips brushing Yeonjun’s jaw in a kiss so soft it barely registered.
Then—lower—his mouth traced the column of Yeonjun’s throat, teeth scraping the sensitive skin just hard enough to make Yeonjun gasp.
Soobin hummed against his pulse, the vibration thrumming through Yeonjun’s body like a live wire. His tongue flicked out, tasting salt and sleep, before his lips moved lower still—slow, savoring—to the hollow of Yeonjun’s collarbone.
Yeonjun arched into the touch, fingers twisting in the sheets.
“Fuck, Bin—” His voice cracked when Soobin’s teeth nipped at the taut skin over his sternum, the sharp sting melting into heat as Soobin soothed it with his tongue.
Soobin’s mouth hovered just above Yeonjun’s sternum, his breath hot and uneven against damp skin. His hands—so hesitant moments ago—now traced the lean muscle of Yeonjun’s abdomen with trembling fingers, mapping the taut plane as if memorizing every ridge and dip.
Yeonjun watched through half-lidded eyes as Soobin’s lips trailed lower, pausing at the sensitive skin just below his navel.
The kiss was clumsy—too wet, too tentative—but the sheer earnestness of it made Yeonjun’s cock twitch against his stomach.
"Hyung," Soobin murmured against his hipbone, his voice thick with something between awe and apprehension. His fingers flexed around Yeonjun’s thighs, blunt nails pressing crescents into flesh as he exhaled sharply.
Then—slowly, so slowly—he leaned down until his lips brushed the flushed head of Yeonjun’s cock.
The contact was fleeting, barely there, but Yeonjun jerked like he’d been burned, a ragged groan tearing from his throat.
Soobin froze instantly, eyes darting up—wide and questioning—but Yeonjun just carded a shaking hand through his hair, swallowing hard. "S’okay," he rasped, hips twitching upward involuntarily. "Just... sensitive."
Soobin nodded, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before trying again. This time, he pressed a clumsy kiss to the underside, his mouth slack and uncertain.
His breath hitched when precum smeared against his lower lip, the taste unfamiliar but not unpleasant—salty, slightly bitter—but before he could pull away, Yeonjun’s fingers tightened gently in his hair, guiding him forward.
Soobin’s breath stuttered against Yeonjun’s cock, lips still hovering just above the flushed skin, unsure. His fingers trembled where they gripped Yeonjun’s thighs—not pushing away, but not committing either. His gaze flicked up, dark and searching, eyelashes casting shadows over his cheeks.
"Hyung," he whispered, voice rough with something between hesitation and hunger. "Show me how."
Yeonjun’s stomach clenched at the plea. He exhaled sharply through his nose, fingers gentling in Soobin’s hair, thumb brushing the shell of his ear. "You don’t have to—"
"I want to," Soobin interrupted, firmer now, pressing a fleeting kiss to the inside of Yeonjun’s thigh as if to prove his resolve. The brush of his lips sent a jolt up Yeonjun’s spine. "Just... tell me what you like."
Yeonjun swallowed hard. The sight alone—Soobin kneeling between his legs, pupils blown wide, lips wet and parted—was nearly enough to undo him. He tightened his grip slightly, guiding Soobin’s head back to where his cock lay heavy against his stomach, glistening at the tip.
"Start slow," he murmured, voice thick. "Just the head first. Use your tongue."
Soobin nodded, exhaling shakily before leaning in. His first tentative lick was too light, too quick—barely a flick against the slit—but Yeonjun hissed anyway, hips twitching off the mattress. Soobin froze, pulling back with wide eyes. "Did I—?"
"No, no—keep going," Yeonjun rasped, fingers tightening fractionally in Soobin’s hair.
His hips jerked involuntarily when Soobin’s tongue flicked out again—still too tentative, too unsure—but the heat of his breath alone made Yeonjun’s spine arch off the mattress.
"Like this—" He guided Soobin’s mouth lower with a gentle pressure, thumb brushing the curve of his jaw. "Just—fuck—just take the tip in, yeah?"
Soobin exhaled sharply through his nose before parting his lips wider, letting the swollen head of Yeonjun’s cock press against his tongue. The sensation was electric—wet heat enveloping him in slow, trembling increments—and Yeonjun groaned, thighs tensing beneath Soobin’s palms.
"Good?" Yeonjun managed, voice wrecked.
Soobin hummed in response, the vibration shooting straight to Yeonjun’s core, and then—hesitantly, experimentally—he sucked. Just once, barely there, but Yeonjun’s hips jerked upward with a choked gasp, his cock sliding deeper than intended.
Soobin gagged reflexively, pulling back with a wet sound, saliva smeared across his lower lip. His eyes watered slightly, lashes clumping together, but he didn’t retreat—just blinked up at Yeonjun with a mix of embarrassment and stubborn determination.
Yeonjun’s fingers gentled in Soobin’s hair, thumb brushing the damp strands back from his forehead. “Easy,” he murmured, voice rough with restraint. “Don’t try to take too much yet.”
Soobin swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing, but his gaze didn’t waver.
He licked his lips—slow, deliberate—before leaning in again, tongue flicking experimentally against the flushed head. This time, he hollowed his cheeks just slightly, lips sealing around the tip in a tentative suck that made Yeonjun’s thighs tremble.
“Fuck—” Yeonjun hissed, hips lifting off the mattress before forcing himself still. His fingers twitched against Soobin’s scalp, torn between guiding him closer and shoving him away before he came embarrassingly fast. “Just like that, Bin. Keep your teeth out of it—yeah, perfect—”
Soobin hummed in acknowledgment, the vibration rippling through Yeonjun’s cock, and then—with agonizing slowness—he took him deeper. His lips stretched obscenely around the girth, saliva slicking the way as his tongue pressed flat against the underside.
Yeonjun’s breath came in ragged bursts, his abdomen clenching as Soobin’s nose brushed the wiry curls at his base. He could feel the tremor in Soobin’s fingers where they gripped his thighs, the shallow hitch of his breath through his nose—but Soobin didn’t pull back.
Instead, his throat worked around a swallow, lashes fluttering shut as he adjusted to the stretch.
Yeonjun's fingers tightened abruptly in Soobin's hair, dragging him up—mouth wet and parted—before crushing their lips together in a messy, desperate kiss. Soobin whimpered against his mouth, hands fluttering at Yeonjun's ribs as their tongues tangled, the taste of himself salty and bitter on Soobin's tongue.
"Did I—" Soobin panted when Yeonjun broke the kiss, pupils blown wide, lips swollen—"do something wrong?" His thumb brushed Yeonjun's hipbone, tentative, uncertain.
Yeonjun laughed, breathless, pressing their foreheads together. "You're fucking perfect," he rasped, thumb swiping the spit-slick curve of Soobin's lower lip. "Just—" His hips jerked involuntarily, cock twitching against Soobin's stomach. "If you keep going like that, I'll come before I even get my hands on you."
Soobin's breath hitched—eyes flicking between Yeonjun's face and his cock—before his lips curled into something shy but unmistakably pleased. His fingers traced the dip of Yeonjun's waist, deliberate now, less hesitant. "You liked it?"
"Liked it?" Yeonjun groaned, rolling them sideways in one fluid motion until Soobin was sprawled beneath him again, legs slotting together. "Your mouth—" He kissed him hard, teeth scraping Soobin's lip, hands sliding down to grip his thighs. "Fuck, Bin, the way you looked—"
Yeonjun kissed Soobin like he was trying to carve the shape of his lips into memory—slow at first, then deeper, teeth catching on Soobin’s lower lip until he gasped.
The sound was wet, open-mouthed, and Yeonjun swallowed it greedily, one hand sliding down to grip the back of Soobin’s thigh. He hitched it higher over his hip, spreading Soobin wider beneath him, the shift of their bodies sending a jolt through them both.
Soobin’s breath hitched when Yeonjun’s fingers traced the crease where thigh met hip—featherlight, teasing—before skating lower, nails scraping the sensitive skin of his inner thigh.
His legs trembled under the touch, muscles twitching as Yeonjun’s fingertips skirted dangerously close to where he was hottest, slickest, most exposed.
“Hyung—” Soobin gasped, breaking the kiss, his hips jerking upward when Yeonjun’s thumb brushed the soft skin just behind his balls.
His cock lay flushed against his stomach, precum beading at the tip, but Yeonjun ignored it, focusing instead on the way Soobin’s breath stuttered when his fingers dipped lower, circling the tight furl of his hole without pressing in.
“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” Yeonjun murmured against Soobin’s jaw, nipping at the pulse point there. His fingers stroked lazy circles around Soobin’s rim, just enough to make him squirm, his thighs tensing and releasing in erratic bursts. “All spread out for me. Taking my fingers so well.”
Soobin whimpered, fingers scrabbling at Yeonjun’s shoulders, blunt nails digging crescents into skin. His hips rocked down instinctively, seeking pressure, but Yeonjun held him still with a firm hand on his thigh. “Jun, please—”
Yeonjun’s thumb pressed against Soobin’s rim, just enough to make him gasp, but didn’t push in. “Tell me,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of Soobin’s ear. “You ever touch yourself here?” His voice dropped lower, rough with want. “When you’re alone?”
Soobin’s throat clicked as he swallowed. His thighs tensed around Yeonjun’s hips, but he didn’t pull away. “S-sometimes,” he admitted, voice cracking. His fingers twisted in the sheets, knuckles whitening.
Yeonjun’s breath hitched. He dragged his thumb down, slow and deliberate, tracing the furl of muscle before circling back up. “Yeah?” His teeth grazed Soobin’s earlobe. “You think about me when you do it?”
Soobin’s hips jerked at the question, a broken noise escaping his throat. His cock twitched against his stomach, another bead of precum welling up. “Hyung—”
“Tell me.” Yeonjun’s fingers stilled, pressing just enough to tease. “What do you imagine?”
Soobin’s breath shuddered out in a wet gasp, his fingers tightening around Yeonjun’s wrist—not pulling away, just anchoring himself as Yeonjun’s thumb circled his rim with agonizing slowness. His hips twitched upward, seeking friction that wasn’t there, his cock leaking against his stomach.
"Tell me," Yeonjun murmured again, lips grazing the shell of Soobin’s ear. His free hand slid up Soobin’s chest, fingers pinching a nipple just hard enough to make him whimper. "What do you picture?"
Soobin’s throat worked around a swallow, his lashes fluttering shut before forcing them open again—like he couldn’t decide whether to hide or meet Yeonjun’s gaze.
"You," he admitted, voice cracking. "Like—like this. Touching me." His hips jerked when Yeonjun’s thumb pressed fractionally harder. "Your hands."
Yeonjun’s exhale was ragged. He dragged his teeth over Soobin’s collarbone, soothing the bite with his tongue. "Just my hands?" he teased, fingers skating lower to trace the sensitive skin behind Soobin’s balls.
Soobin’s thighs tensed, his breath hitching. "N-no," he whispered. His fingers fumbled for Yeonjun’s, guiding them back to his rim with trembling urgency. "Your mouth—fuck—sometimes I—" He broke off with a sharp inhale when Yeonjun’s fingertip breached him, just the tip, barely there.
Yeonjun’s fingertip stilled inside Soobin, just enough to tease but not enough to satisfy. "Sometimes you what?" he murmured against the damp skin of Soobin’s throat, lips brushing his pulse. "Tell me."
Soobin’s breath hitched, fingers tightening around Yeonjun’s wrist like he was afraid he’d pull away. "I—" His voice cracked, hips shifting restlessly. "I think about your mouth," he admitted, barely above a whisper. "On me. Everywhere."
Yeonjun groaned, pressing a biting kiss to Soobin’s collarbone before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. "Yeah?" He twisted his finger slightly, watching the way Soobin’s lashes fluttered, his lips parting around a silent gasp. "Where exactly?"
Soobin’s cheeks flushed darker, his hips lifting off the mattress when Yeonjun’s finger retreated—only to whimper when it circled his rim again, teasing. "Here," he breathed, fingers scrabbling at the sheets. "Your tongue—fuck—pushing inside me."
The image alone sent heat coiling low in Yeonjun’s stomach. He dragged his teeth over Soobin’s lower lip, swallowing the punched-out noise that followed. "Keep talking," he ordered, voice rough. "Tell me everything."
Soobin's breath shuddered out in a broken exhale, fingers twisting into the sheets as Yeonjun's thumb traced another slow circle around his rim. "I—"
His hips jerked when Yeonjun's fingertip pressed in, just barely, before retreating again.
"I think about your mouth first," he admitted, voice cracking. "On my neck. My thighs. Everywhere but where I really want it." His laugh was shaky, self-conscious. "Teasing me. Like you're doing now."
Yeonjun's grin was all teeth. He leaned down, nipping at the sensitive skin of Soobin's inner thigh—right where he'd just described—and relished the way Soobin's muscles tensed, his cock twitching against his stomach.
"And then?" he prompted, tongue darting out to soothe the bite.
Soobin's fingers clenched around Yeonjun's wrist, his breath coming faster. "Then you—" He broke off with a gasp when Yeonjun's tongue flicked against his perineum, hot and fleeting. "Fuck. You'd finally—" His hips lifted off the mattress instinctively, seeking more contact. "You'd push my legs wider. And lick—ah—"
Yeonjun pulled back abruptly, leaving Soobin writhing on the sheets, his cock flushed and leaking against his stomach. "Stay there," he murmured, pressing a kiss to Soobin's trembling knee before sliding off the bed.
The cool air against his skin was a stark contrast to the heat of Soobin's body, but Yeonjun barely noticed.
His suitcase lay half-open near the foot of the bed, clothes haphazardly shoved aside from earlier. He rummaged through the side pocket, fingers closing around the small bottle of lube he always packed—just in case.
Soobin's breath hitched when Yeonjun pulled away, his body arching off the mattress instinctively—chasing the ghost of touch, the warmth of Yeonjun’s skin—only to collapse back with a frustrated groan.
His thighs trembled where they were still spread wide, knees hooked over the edge of the bed, cock dripping against his stomach. "Jun—"
Yeonjun smirked over his shoulder, fingers still rummaging through his suitcase with deliberate slowness. The dim light caught the sweat-slick curve of his spine, the flex of his shoulders as he bent forward.
"Keep talking," he murmured, voice rough. "Tell me how you'd want it." The crinkle of fabric shifting, the faint click of the bottle cap—Soobin’s fingers twisted in the sheets at the sound.
"I’d—" Soobin swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing.
His hips twitched upward, seeking friction that wasn’t there.
"I’d beg first," he admitted, voice cracking. "You’d make me." His thighs tensed when Yeonjun turned back, lube bottle dangling between his fingers, gaze dark and intent. "You’d spread me open with your thumbs first—just looking—fuck—"
Yeonjun’s breath stuttered. He prowled back toward the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he knelt between Soobin’s thighs again.
Yeonjun's fingers tightened around the lube bottle, his gaze locked on Soobin's flushed, sprawled-out form. "Turn over," he murmured, voice low and rough—not a suggestion, but not quite an order either.
The kind of tone that made Soobin's pulse stutter in his throat.
Soobin hesitated for only a second—lips parted, chest rising and falling rapidly—before rolling onto his stomach with a quiet shuffle of sheets. His shoulders tensed when the cooler air hit his damp back, fingers twisting into the pillow beneath his head.
Yeonjun exhaled sharply through his nose at the sight. Soobin’s spine curved delicately in the dim light, his ass rising slightly—muscles tensing instinctively—as if anticipating what came next.
"Good," Yeonjun murmured, dragging a palm up the back of Soobin’s thigh, fingers skimming the sensitive skin just beneath his ass.
Soobin shuddered, hips pressing downward instinctively—but Yeonjun didn’t let him hide. His thumbs dug into the soft flesh of Soobin’s cheeks, spreading them apart in one slow, deliberate motion.
The gasp that punched out of Soobin was muffled against the pillow, his entire body going taut.
Yeonjun’s thumbs pressed deeper, exposing him completely—flushed pink and already twitching under the attention.
Soobin’s breath hitched audibly when Yeonjun’s thumbs parted him further, the air cool against his exposed skin. His fingers twisted tighter into the pillowcase, knuckles whitening, but he didn’t pull away—just pressed his forehead harder against the mattress as if bracing himself.
Yeonjun exhaled slowly, watching the way Soobin’s rim fluttered under the attention, pink and tight. He leaned down, close enough that his breath ghosted hot over the delicate skin, and heard Soobin’s muffled whimper in response.
"Relax," Yeonjun murmured, dragging a thumb in a slow circle around the furl of muscle, just enough to make Soobin shiver. His other hand slid up the dip of Soobin’s spine, steadying him. "Just like that."
Then—slowly, deliberately—Yeonjun gathered saliva on his tongue and let it drip onto Soobin’s hole, watching it glisten for a second before spreading it with the pad of his thumb.
Soobin jerked beneath him, a broken noise escaping his throat, but Yeonjun pressed down firmly on the small of his back, pinning him in place. "Breathe," he instructed, voice rough. His thumb circled again, smearing the wetness, teasing the rim without pushing in. "You’re doing so good, Bin."
The first swipe of Yeonjun’s tongue was slow—experimental—just a teasing flick against Soobin’s twitching rim.
The taste was salt and skin and something uniquely Soobin, and Yeonjun groaned against him, fingers tightening around his hips. Soobin jerked beneath him with a punched-out gasp, thighs tensing, but Yeonjun didn’t let him pull away.
His thumbs pressed deeper into the soft flesh of Soobin’s ass, spreading him wider, exposing him completely.
"Hyung—" Soobin’s voice cracked, muffled against the pillow, fingers twisting tighter into the sheets. His hips rocked back instinctively, seeking more contact even as his body trembled with oversensitivity.
Yeonjun hummed in response, the vibration sending another jolt through Soobin’s body. He licked again—longer this time—flat and wet from perineum to tailbone before circling just the rim, teasing the tight furl of muscle without pushing in. Soobin whimpered, his thighs shaking, his cock dripping onto the sheets beneath him.
"Fuck, you taste good," Yeonjun murmured against his skin, lips brushing Soobin’s hole just to feel him clench. He dragged his tongue lower, tracing the sensitive skin behind Soobin’s balls, sucking lightly just to hear the broken noise that escaped Soobin’s throat.
When he returned to Soobin’s hole, he pressed closer—mouth sealing over it in a slow, wet kiss—before sucking gently. Soobin’s entire body arched off the mattress with a strangled cry, his hips jerking uncontrollably.
Yeonjun held him down with a firm grip, repeating the motion—sucking, releasing, licking—until Soobin was gasping, his thighs slick with sweat, his cock dripping steadily.
The click of the lube bottle cap was obscenely loud in the quiet room. Soobin tensed at the sound, fingers digging deeper into the pillow beneath his cheek—his breathing ragged where his face was half-buried in the fabric.
Yeonjun watched the rapid flutter of his pulse at the base of his throat, the way his shoulders hitched with each uneven inhale, before squeezing a generous amount onto his fingers.
"Cold," Yeonjun warned, dragging his clean hand down the dip of Soobin’s spine—feeling the way his muscles jumped at the touch—before pressing two slick fingers against his hole without preamble.
Soobin jerked like he’d been burned, a punched-out gasp escaping him as his hips lifted instinctively—only for Yeonjun to press him back down with a firm hand between his shoulder blades.
"Easy," Yeonjun murmured, circling the tight furl of muscle with slow, deliberate pressure.
The lube gleamed against Soobin’s skin, smearing messily as Yeonjun’s fingertip teased at his entrance without pushing in.
"Just relax for me."
Soobin made a choked noise, forehead pressed harder into the pillow.
His thighs trembled where they were spread wide, knees hooked over the edge of the bed, but he didn’t pull away—just clenched his eyes shut as Yeonjun’s fingertip pressed inward, slowly, inexorably, breaching him with a slick, thick stretch.
Soobin gasped sharply when Yeonjun’s finger finally pushed past the tight ring of muscle—the stretch burning in a way that wasn’t quite pain but wasn’t entirely pleasure either.
His hips jerked instinctively, but Yeonjun held him still with a firm hand between his shoulder blades, murmuring, "Breathe, Bin. Just breathe."
Yeonjun’s finger worked deeper in slow increments, twisting slightly with every press forward until his knuckles brushed the curve of Soobin’s ass. Soobin shuddered beneath him, fingers clawing at the sheets, his exhale ragged against the pillow.
"Good," Yeonjun murmured, dragging his finger back out almost entirely before pushing in again—a little smoother this time, the glide eased by lube. "You’re taking it so well."
He leaned down, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the small of Soobin’s back, just to feel the way his muscles jumped.
Soobin whined, high and thready, when Yeonjun crooked his finger inside him—searching—until—
"Fuck—" Soobin’s entire body arched off the mattress, his cock twitching violently against the sheets. Yeonjun smirked against his spine, repeating the motion deliberately, rubbing over that spot again and again until Soobin was panting, his thighs slick with sweat, his hole fluttering around Yeonjun’s finger.
The second finger pressed in alongside the first with a slick, twisting motion—Soobin's gasp muffled against the pillow as his body clenched instinctively around the intrusion.
Yeonjun didn't pause, working his fingers deeper with slow, deliberate rolls of his wrist, the stretch sharper now but eased by the obscene wet sounds of lube and Soobin's trembling efforts to relax.
"Breathe," Yeonjun murmured against the sweat-damp skin of Soobin's lower back, lips brushing the knobs of his spine.
He crooked his fingers again, rubbing firmly over that spot inside—Soobin's hips jerked off the mattress with a punched-out moan, his cock dripping onto the sheets beneath him.
Yeonjun added the third finger gradually—pressing in just the tip at first, letting Soobin adjust to the stretch before sinking deeper. Soobin's thighs trembled violently, his fingers twisting into the pillowcase so hard the fabric threatened to tear.
"Jun—fuck—" His voice cracked, ragged with oversensitivity, but he rocked back against Yeonjun's hand anyway, his body yielding despite the tension in his shoulders.
When Yeonjun finally withdrew his fingers—slowly, savoring the way Soobin's hole fluttered around them—Soobin whined at the sudden emptiness, his hips lifting instinctively.
Yeonjun chuckled low in his throat, wiping his hand carelessly on the sheets before gripping Soobin's hip and turning him over in one smooth motion.
Soobin went easily—sprawled onto his back with his legs still spread, his cock flushed and leaking against his stomach. His chest rose and fell rapidly, lips parted around shallow breaths, eyes dark with want as Yeonjun loomed over him.
Yeonjun's cock nudged against Soobin's hole—just the blunt pressure of it, not pushing in yet, but the heat alone made Soobin's breath stutter. His hands flew up instinctively, palms flattening against Yeonjun's chest, fingers curling into the sweat-damp skin like he couldn't decide whether to push or pull.
Yeonjun caught his wrists gently, pinning them to the mattress beside Soobin's head as he leaned forward until their foreheads touched. The angle forced Soobin's hips higher, his legs trembling where they hooked around Yeonjun's waist.
"You sure?" Yeonjun murmured, so close his lips brushed Soobin's with each word. His voice was rough, but his grip on Soobin's wrists was careful—loose enough to break if Soobin twisted.
Soobin swallowed hard, his throat clicking. His thighs tensed, his toes curling against the small of Yeonjun’s back.
"Don't—" His breath hitched when Yeonjun's cockhead pressed more firmly against him, the slick heat of it making his stomach clench. "Don't ask me that now."
Yeonjun huffed a laugh, rolling his hips just enough to smear precum against Soobin’s rim. "Gotta ask," he murmured, lips skimming Soobin’s jaw. "Gotta hear you say it." His thumbs stroked the delicate skin of Soobin’s inner wrists, feeling the rabbit-quick pulse beneath. "Tell me, Bin."
Soobin’s breath hitched when Yeonjun’s cockhead pressed more insistently against him—not entering yet, just the slick, hot pressure of it nudging against his stretched rim. His fingers flexed against Yeonjun’s wrists, knuckles brushing the damp sheets beneath them.
"Tell me," Yeonjun murmured again, lips grazing Soobin’s cheekbone, breath warm and uneven against his skin.
His thumbs traced slow circles over Soobin’s pulse points, grounding him even as his hips rolled forward—just enough to make Soobin’s thighs tense.
Soobin’s throat worked around a swallow, his lashes fluttering shut for a second before forcing them open again—like he needed to see Yeonjun’s face when he answered.
"Yes," he breathed, voice cracking. His hips lifted instinctively, seeking more contact. "Fuck—yes, hyung—"
Yeonjun exhaled sharply through his nose, fingers tightening briefly around Soobin’s wrists before releasing them to cradle his face instead. His thumbs brushed the high curve of Soobin’s cheekbones, smearing the dampness there—whether sweat or tears, neither of them cared.
Then, with agonizing slowness, Yeonjun pressed forward—the blunt head of his cock catching on Soobin’s rim before finally, finally breaching him.
Soobin's breath stuttered out in a sharp gasp, his thighs tensing where they bracketed Yeonjun's hips—the stretch burning deeper than fingers, fuller than anything he'd imagined during those restless nights alone.
His fingers scrambled at the sheets, then Yeonjun's shoulders, nails digging into sweat-slick skin as he fought to adjust.
"Easy," Yeonjun murmured against his temple, voice thick with restraint. His hips stilled completely once the head of his cock was fully seated inside, giving Soobin time to breathe through the initial discomfort. "Just relax—breathe through it."
Soobin squeezed his eyes shut, forcing air into his lungs in deliberate gulps. The stretch ached—not quite pain but overwhelming in its unfamiliarity—until Yeonjun's thumb brushed his lower lip, coaxing it free from where he'd bitten it white.
"Look at me," Yeonjun whispered.
Soobin blinked his eyes open—lashes damp—to find Yeonjun's gaze locked onto his, dark and unwavering despite the tension in his jaw, the trembling restraint in his arms where they caged Soobin against the mattress.
"Tell me to stop," Yeonjun murmured, voice ragged with restraint, his hips trembling where they hovered barely inside Soobin. His thumbs brushed the tear-tracks on Soobin's cheeks—gentle despite the tension corded through his arms. "Say the word and I pull out. I swear I won't be angry." His breath hitched when Soobin's rim fluttered around him, hot and tight. "Promise."
Soobin's fingers dug into Yeonjun's shoulders, blunt nails leaving crescent moons in the sweat-slick skin. His throat worked around a swallow, lashes fluttering as his body adjusted to the unfamiliar stretch—but he shook his head sharply, hips lifting in tentative invitation.
"Don't stop," he breathed, voice cracking. "Please—hyung—just move."
Yeonjun exhaled roughly through his nose, forehead dropping to press against Soobin's. His next thrust was slow—agonizingly controlled—sheathing himself inch by torturous inch until their hips finally slotted together.
Soobin gasped, back arching off the mattress, fingers scrambling for purchase against Yeonjun's ribs. The fullness was overwhelming—heat and pressure radiating up his spine—but when Yeonjun stilled again, Soobin whined high in his throat, legs tightening around Yeonjun's waist.
"More," he demanded, voice wrecked, heels digging into the small of Yeonjun's back. "God—move—"
Yeonjun's laugh was breathless, strained. He dragged his lips along the hinge of Soobin's jaw, teeth scraping the sensitive skin just to feel him shiver. "Impatient," he chided, but obeyed—pulling out nearly all the way before thrusting back in with deliberate slowness.
The drag was slick, torturous—Soobin's hole clinging to him like it didn't want to let go.
Soobin's breath punched out in a punched-out moan, thighs trembling where they gripped Yeonjun's hips. His cock twitched against his stomach, leaking untouched—the friction inside him sparking white-hot behind his eyelids.
"Faster," he pleaded, nails raking down Yeonjun's sweat-slick spine. "Jun—please—"
Yeonjun groaned low in his throat at the demand, hips snapping forward sharply—no more teasing, no more restraint—burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust that punched a broken cry from Soobin’s lips.
"Like that?" he rasped, fingers tightening around Soobin’s hips to drag him closer, grinding deep just to feel him clench. "Fuck—you take me so good, Bin—"
Soobin’s back arched off the mattress, his cock dripping untouched against his stomach, thighs shaking where they clung to Yeonjun’s waist.
"Harder—" he gasped, nails scoring red lines down Yeonjun’s sweat-slick shoulders. "God—hyung—"
Yeonjun didn’t hesitate—pulling out almost entirely before slamming back in with a wet slap of skin, the force of it jolting Soobin up the bed.
His rhythm was relentless now—deep, punishing thrusts that had Soobin’s toes curling against the small of his back, his hole fluttering hot and tight around Yeonjun’s cock.
"Look at you," Yeonjun panted, dragging his thumb over Soobin’s bitten-red lower lip. "So fucking pretty—spread open for me—taking me like you were made for it—"
Soobin choked on a moan, his thighs trembling violently as Yeonjun angled his hips just right—hitting that spot inside him with every thrust until pleasure coiled white-hot in his gut. "
Jun—I can’t—" His voice shattered, hands scrambling for purchase against the sweat-slick sheets.
"Can’t what?" Yeonjun taunted, breathless, bending down to lick a stripe up Soobin’s throat. He fucked into him harder, deeper, the wet slide of their skin obscenely loud in the quiet room. "Can’t take it? Or can’t stop?" His teeth grazed Soobin’s collarbone, sucking a bruise into the pale skin as his hips pistoned relentlessly. "Bet you’ve thought about this—how I’d ruin you—"
Soobin’s fingers clawed at the sweat-slick sheets, his back arching off the mattress with every deep, driving thrust—each one hitting that spot inside him that sent sparks racing up his spine.
Yeonjun’s hips snapped forward relentlessly, the wet slap of skin against skin echoing in the dim room, his breath hot and ragged against Soobin’s throat.
"Look at you," Yeonjun groaned, dragging his tongue over the hammering pulse at Soobin’s neck. "So tight, fuck, clenching around me like you don’t want me to pull out." His fingers dug into the meat of Soobin’s thighs, spreading him wider, driving deeper. "Bet you’ve imagined this, how I’d fill you up, how you’d fucking beg for it"
Soobin’s moan cracked into a whine, his cock leaking untouched against his stomach, his legs trembling where they hooked around Yeonjun’s waist.
"Hyung—please—" His voice shattered when Yeonjun’s next thrust knocked the air from his lungs, his rim fluttering hot and desperate around Yeonjun’s cock.
"Please what?" Yeonjun taunted, nipping at Soobin’s jaw, his hips rolling in a cruel, grinding circle that had Soobin’s toes curling. "Want me to fuck you harder? Or do you wanna come untouched like the desperate little thing you are?" He punctuated the question with a sharp snap of his hips, grinning when Soobin’s entire body jerked. "Tell me, Bin—wanna come just from my cock? From me fucking you stupid?"
Soobin’s nails raked down Yeonjun’s back, his breath coming in punched-out gasps. "Y-yes, fuck, just like this—" His hips lifted desperately, chasing the friction, his cock twitching against his stomach. "Jun, I’m close"
Yeonjun’s hips snapped forward with brutal precision, the slap of skin echoing off the hotel walls as he buried himself to the hilt—once, twice—before settling into a rhythm that had Soobin’s thighs trembling.
"Fuck, Bin—look at you," he groaned, dragging his tongue up the column of Soobin’s throat. "Taking me so deep—gonna feel me for days." His fingers dug into the meat of Soobin’s hips, yanking him closer with each thrust, the wet heat between them obscene. "You wanted this, didn’t you? Wanted me to ruin you—"
Soobin’s moan cracked into a whimper, his legs tightening around Yeonjun’s waist as if to keep him buried inside.
His cock leaked untouched against his stomach, precome smearing in slick streaks every time Yeonjun’s abdomen brushed against it.
"Jun, fuck" His voice shattered when Yeonjun angled his hips just right, hitting that spot inside him with every punishing thrust.
Yeonjun grinned, wild and breathless, rolling his hips in a filthy grind that had Soobin’s back arching off the mattress.
"Yeah? That’s it, squeeze me just like that," he taunted, nipping at Soobin’s jaw. "Bet you’ve dreamed about this—my cock stretching you open—" His thrusts turned erratic, the bedframe creaking beneath them. "Gonna come just like this, Bin? Untouched? Pathetic." The word was a purr, dripping with affection.
Soobin’s fingers scrambled against the sweat-slick sheets, his thighs shaking violently.
"Hyung, please" His breath hitched, body tensing like a coiled spring as pleasure surged white-hot behind his eyelids. Yeonjun didn’t relent—if anything, he fucked into him harder, deeper, the wet slide of their bodies amplifying every sound. "JunI’m gonna"
"Do it," Yeonjun growled, slamming home one final time and holding himself there, pressed flush against Soobin’s ass.
His thumb brushed the head of Soobin’s neglected cock, smearing precome—just a teasing graze—and that was all it took.
Soobin came with a shattered cry—his entire body locking up, back arching violently off the mattress as pleasure ripped through him in blinding waves.
His cock twitched untouched against his stomach, stripes of white painting his heaving chest, his thighs trembling where they still clung to Yeonjun’s waist.
Yeonjun groaned at the sudden clench around him, hips stuttering as Soobin’s hole fluttered tight and desperate—milking him mercilessly through his orgasm.
“Fuck, Bin—” His voice cracked, fingers digging bruisingly into Soobin’s hips as he fucked him through it, chasing his own release with ragged thrusts.
The overstimulation had Soobin whimpering, oversensitive and shaking, but he didn’t pull away—just clenched tighter around Yeonjun with a broken noise, his legs tightening to keep him buried deep.
That was all it took.
Yeonjun’s rhythm faltered—one last brutal thrust sheathing himself to the hilt—before his orgasm hit him like a punch to the gut.
He came with Soobin’s name spilling from his lips in a wrecked groan, hips jerking erratically as he spilled inside him, warmth flooding Soobin’s already twitching hole.
For a moment, neither of them moved—just gasping breaths and the slick, sticky press of sweat-damp skin. Then Yeonjun collapsed forward, barely catching himself on trembling forearms before his full weight crushed Soobin into the mattress.
Yeonjun's lips were soft against the flushed skin of Soobin's throat—gentle in a way that contrasted sharply with the bruising grip he'd had on his hips moments ago.
He kissed upward, lingering at the frantic pulse beneath Soobin's jaw, tasting salt and exertion. His own breath was still ragged, chest heaving where it pressed against Soobin's, but his fingers had loosened from their desperate clutch, smoothing instead over the red marks they'd left behind.
"You good?" Yeonjun murmured, voice rough but quieter now—so unlike the taunting drawl from before.
His thumb brushed Soobin's cheekbone, catching the dampness there.
Soobin blinked up at him, lashes sticky with unshed tears, lips parted around uneven breaths. His body felt boneless, limbs heavy where they sprawled across the tangled sheets, but he managed a tiny nod.
His fingers twitched against Yeonjun's ribs—hesitant, then firmer, curling into the sweat-damp skin like he needed the anchor.
Yeonjun exhaled, something in his shoulders relaxing as he pressed their foreheads together. "Talk to me, Bin." His palm cradled Soobin's jaw, thumb stroking the hinge. "Words."
Soobin swallowed, throat working. "M'okay," he managed, voice scraped raw. His fingers flexed against Yeonjun's side—half a push, half a pull—before settling. "Just... a lot."
Soobin laughed then—a breathless, disbelieving sound that cracked halfway through. His fingers flexed against Yeonjun's ribs, blunt nails scraping lightly over sweat-slick skin.
"I can't—" He huffed another laugh, voice raw and wrecked. "I can't believe we just did that."
Yeonjun pressed a kiss to Soobin's cheek—soft, lingering—before nudging his nose against his temple. "We did," he murmured, lips brushing Soobin's damp skin with each word. His thumb traced the hinge of Soobin's jaw, catching on the rapid pulse there. "And we'll talk about it later."
His fingers slid down to Soobin's waist, tracing idle circles over the sensitive skin.
"Right now, I just wanna make sure you're okay."
Soobin exhaled shakily, his lashes fluttering when Yeonjun's lips skimmed his cheekbone.
His body felt heavy—sprawled bonelessly across the tangled sheets—but his fingers twitched against Yeonjun's side, curling into the warmth of him. "M'okay," he mumbled, though his voice was still rough, his throat clicking around the words.
Yeonjun hummed, skeptical, and shifted just enough to prop himself up on one elbow. His free hand drifted down Soobin's side—gentle now, so unlike the bruising grip from before—skimming over the faint red marks his fingers had left.
"Gonna clean you up," he murmured, thumb brushing the inside of Soobin's knee where it still hooked loosely over his hip. "Stay here."
Soobin made a soft noise of protest when Yeonjun pulled away, his fingers tightening briefly on Yeonjun's wrist before letting go. His thighs trembled slightly as Yeonjun slid off the bed, the cool air hitting his sweat-damp skin.
He watched, dazed, as Yeonjun padded naked to the bathroom—the easy confidence in his stride, the flex of his shoulders under the dim light.
The bathroom light spilled gold across the rumpled sheets as Yeonjun returned with a damp towel, his movements slow with exhaustion but deliberate.
Soobin watched through half-lidded eyes, his body still thrumming with the aftershocks of pleasure, thighs sticky where they'd fallen open. The towel was warm when Yeonjun pressed it between his legs—gentle, so unlike the demanding hands from before—soaking up the mess they'd made.
Soobin shuddered at the contact, oversensitive, but Yeonjun just murmured nonsense against his temple, fingers careful as they wiped the drying come from his stomach.
"Lift," Yeonjun whispered, nudging Soobin's hip, and Soobin obeyed without thought, letting Yeonjun clean him thoroughly—the drag of the towel tender where his skin still burned from the stretch.
When Yeonjun tossed the towel aside, Soobin reached for him instinctively, fingers catching his wrist, tugging weakly until Yeonjun relented and slid back into bed beside him.
The mattress dipped under their combined weight as Yeonjun pulled Soobin against his chest, skin sticking slightly where sweat hadn't quite dried.
Soobin went willingly, boneless, his cheek finding the familiar groove of Yeonjun's collarbone. He smelled like salt and sex and the hotel's cheap shampoo, but beneath it—warm, unmistakable—just Yeonjun.
Yeonjun's arm curled around him, fingers splaying possessively over the small of Soobin's back, thumb tracing idle circles against the dimples there. His lips brushed Soobin's forehead, lingering, before he exhaled long and slow, his chest rising beneath Soobin's ear.
"We'll figure it out tomorrow," Yeonjun murmured, voice roughened with exhaustion but sure. His fingers carded through Soobin's damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead. "Sleep now, Bin."