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Touring was always exhausting, but especially when you don’t have a single moment to relax. When there are always members, staff, and fans all around you, it's hell on earth not being able to go home after a long day and rub out. Instead, you return to a shared hotel room and a cramped shower, where you can’t get anything done. It was getting to Kyrell; all he wanted was to touch himself, make himself feel good, just once.
Earlier, Kyrell had woken to an unexpectedly empty hotel room-normally, Brian was still lying face down, hair a mess, and drool string hanging down.
Kyrell waited a couple of minutes, making sure the coast was really clear, before slipping his under the band of his boxers. Slowly, tapping his index finger against the pretty tip, a low hiss rolled from his body after weeks; he was finally able to please himself properly. No more quickly rubbing one out in the bathroom before leaving for rehearsals at 8 am. Just him and a mysterious amount of time to get himself before the older gets back.
He slowly slips his sleep shorts and boxers down to his mid-thigh, giving him just enough room to play with himself freely. Taking his finger tip to his mouth and swirling a disgusting amount of spit on it before running circles on the now hardening cock. Gliding the spit up and down, making sure not to miss a single spot. Stroking himself at a devastatingly slow pace, Kyrell runs his other hand up his torso all the way to the needy bud. One thing Kyrell couldn’t explain is how good it feels to have his nipples squeezed while his dick gets sweet, sweet pleasure. He can’t hold them in; low grumbles ring in his ears as the pace starts picking up.
Before he knows it, his shirt is tucked behind his neck, and the blanket is strung on the floor. Dick leaking milky pre-cum on his bouncing hand, the sight was more than pornographic; it was crude. The door slid open softly as a familiar voice came through Kyrell’s ears.
“Dude, you will never believe how long the breakfast line is-“ Kyrell tried whipping the blanket over him before he could see anything; his fate had come. Brian broke from the small foyer, making direct eye contact with Kyrell's naked, sweaty, sticky body. “Fuck I’m so sorry,” Brian panicked, setting the food at the foot of his bed, to shield his eyes from the scene in front of him. Grabbing his pants, Kyrell sits up, cheeks flushed and face glistening with sweat. Sorry, pleads, in quick mumbles, as Brian’s hands finally fall from his eyes.
“Please, Brian, I'm so sorry, forgive me,” Kyrell begs. Brian was too sat in shock even to hear anything that came out of Kyrell’s mouth. Hearing a friend please himself is one thing, but actively seeing it is quite another.
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The rest of the day went smoothly; it wasn’t awkward at all. No one could even tell Brian caught Kyrell completely nude, squeezing his nipples and cum leaking from his aching cock. Rehearsals went fine, even hair and makeup were great, but the second they stepped onto the stage, Brian got a sudden wave of confidence; it was as if he waited until Kyrell really couldn’t do anything. Between position changes, Brian’s finger would run over small parts of Kyrell's torso. Sly smiles when the choreography makes them look at each other. During the cover stage, Brian got really touchy, but not enough for the fans to notice. Arm around his waist, his fingers gently dancing on his side, singing to Kyrell with lustful eyes. The stage was supposed to be cute, but Kyrell felt as if he was being teased the whole time
It felt as if a pervert was continuously watching his every move; it was just Brian who was weirdly focused on Kyrell today. Maybe he couldn’t get the sight out of his head, Kyrell posted up like a little whore with no one to put on such a pretty show for. One who would beg on his knees to even get a taste of Brian, one who had been pining for months over his bandmate. Fine, maybe Kyrell liked the extra attention today, maybe he liked the thought of Brian replaying the filthy interaction all over again. Cheers of fans whipped him back to reality; he was in front of hundreds of people, daydreaming about Brian.
He could feel the restriction against his dance belt, fuck, he was getting all worked up over Brian Hyung right in front of everyone’s eyes. Taking a quick bow whilst gripping his bandmate's hand, before running offstage to adjust himself. Sadly, this isn’t the first time this has happened. During “That’s That” promotions, watching Brian dance in a tight little tank top while sweat beaded on his lush skin did Kyrell in. That time, he could just run off after that stage and rub a quick out in the bathroom during the next group's stage. This was so much different; he had an entire hour and a half before he could even think about addressing this problem.
And the rest of the concert, Brian wasn’t much help, lifting his shirt, “jokingly” flirting with Kyrell on stage, and licking his lips whenever he and Kyrell made eye contact. “Fuck you,” Kyrell mumbled under his breath after Brian let his touch linger a little too long during the seesaw performance; he wasn’t even supposed to be that close. He wishes Brian didn’t have this effect on him, but he couldn’t help it, the way his true smile shows when he laughs, how his eyes captivate you with every glance, and the way his body moves like liquid as if he was built to be an idol, as if he was the only man in the world.
Kyrell thanks god a lot for leading him to FNC… to Brian, it started as a silly trainee crush, something he was sure would pass in months, but years later, he still looks at Brian with the same passion. Call it pathetic, or whatever you want, it got him through most passing days, the days the sun didn’t shine even for him. But today, oh, it wasn’t helping him one bit; it made his life a hell of a lot harder.
Kyrell’s been on autopilot for hours now; he didn’t even realize it was already time for the encore until Siyun pulled him backstage. Quick change was always easy: run back, take off your top, and put on the tour merch. Walk back out and finish up your night. Brian had other ideas in mind, standing right in front of Kyrell. Brian grabs the hem of his shirt, lifting it agonizingly slowly. Kyrell never took his eyes off Brian’s body. He had seen Brian without a shirt countless times, but this was so much different; it felt like it was for Kyrell’s eyes to see to tease him, letting him know he can’t have it.
The shirt reaches the top of his head, his full chest completely exposed, on display for everyone’s eyes, but he knew this wasn’t for anyone; it was for him and him only. Did this morning make Brian feel something? Why is he acting like this? A million thoughts are rushing through Kyrell’s head. Years of being in a group together, and now Brian wants to tease him, Kyrell’s head was spinning with too many feelings and emotions coming over him at once.
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Everything was finally over, performances, pictures, and finally, it was just time to go back and rest. The car ride to the hotel was silent, well, only for Kyrell; everyone else was talking, discussing how they performed, but Kyrell was replaying everything in his mind. He so wanted to confront Brian about his uncalled-for harassment today, he needed to know why Brian had to torment him so much. Kyrell’s cock was practically crying from constant teasing.
The van slowly comes to a stop. They finally made it after all that the day has brought; everyone can unwind separately in their rooms. The first step on Kyrell’s agenda was to take a shower and maybe address the problem he’s been facing for the last 8 hours. A light hand rested on his shoulder, “Come on, let’s go, you have the room key.” He knew that voice anywhere. Looking up, Kyrell met a sly smile, facing him back.
Walking up to the room with Brian had been normal all the stops before now, tonight was different… There was tension between the two; not a word had been spoken, but Kyrell could feel it. Not only could he feel the tension, but he could also feel a pair of eyes peering down on him. “Brian?” Kyrell struggled to get out—a small “hmm” dragged from the taller's lips.
“Why are you staring?”
The hall went silent, not a word was dared spoken. Only their footsteps sounded, one after another, practically in sync. Kyrell cleared his throat, hoping that would prompt Brian to answer, but he didn’t; he stayed silent, walking ever so slightly behind Kyrell, just out of his peripheral vision. The room door is just in sight. Speeding up a bit, Kyrell reaches it, slapping the key card onto it as if he were being chased.
“I can’t stop thinking about this morning.”
Brian finally speaks up, words shallow , as if they hurt him to say. “Oh? Brian, again, I’m so sorry about-“ soft lips shut him up before any more words could leave his mouth. Brian… Brian was kissing him. After years of pinning, Kyrell had gotten what he wanted. The kiss was hungry as if it were the only one they would ever have. Backing up into the room, still attacking each other's faces, low groans escape the red-haired mouth.
“Ky, please,” Brian says, breaking the kiss. A string of spit falls between them, landing beautifully on Brian’s chin.
Brian slipped one hand under the hem of Kyrell’s shirt, trying to grasp any skin he could, just wanting to feel the other under his fingertips. Kyrell jolts at the touch, sucking in a gasp of air, slamming his back onto Brian’s, this time more desperate than before. Fingers tangled in thick, dark brown hair, slightly tugging, causing Brian to moan into the kiss, allowing Kyrell to slip his tongue in. Brian catches the other’s tongue, sucking slightly. Shivers run down Kyrell’s body, every hair standing straight up. He was sure Brian was gonna be the death of him; at this rate, he wouldn’t even make it past making out.
“I need you, I need you really fucking badly.”
That was all it took; Brian’s hands raced to throw off Kyrell’s shirt. Lifting the shirt past his shoulders, Brian stopped, soaking in the scene before him: Kyrell's sweat-damp 6-pack, staring right back at him. He wanted to be here forever, just looking at Kyrell like this for the rest of time; nothing would ever compare to this. The only thing breaking him out of this trance was the younger boy shielding his face behind his hands.
“Baby?” Brian questioned, sliding Kyrell’s hands to his side and scanning his face for anything, only finding a hint of embarrassment. Slightly rubbing his thumb against Kyrell's palms, Brian now knelt there, watching the other man rebuild his confidence. “I get embarrassed when you look at me like this,” Kyrell spoke, straightening his posture.
Moving his hands, Brian makes his way to Kyrell’s waistband, looking up for reassurance to keep going. Kyrell slides him a quick nod. Undoing the button and slipping off his jeans agonizingly slow, the man on his knees is met with a raging bulge begging to be let loose from its restraints. Hunger builds up in his stomach, mouth pooling with saliva, hooking his digits under his boxers, pulling them down to Kyrell’s mid thigh. His length springs out, almost slapping Brian on the lips, pre-cum already leaking from the plush pink tip.
Licking his lips, Brian dove in, kitty licking the pulsing tip, letting the sweet liquid soak onto his tongue. A hum vibrates through his lips, sending shivers down the younger's spine. Taking his large hand, he wraps it around the base of Kyrell’s cock, giving small pumps while his tongue is still hard at work.
“Fuck Bunny.”
The pet name made Brian’s blood run cold; he could hold back no longer. Opening his plush lips, Brian takes all of Kyrell at once, leaving him no time to process what’s happening. Tears well up in Brian’s eyes, choking around Kyrell’s cock. He keeps going, sucking as if his life depends on it, hollowing out his cheeks to fit Kyrell better. Kyrell grabs at Brian’s hair, pulling him back with a little pop, “You can’t do that, pretty boy.” Kyrell chuckles, looking down at Brian, who has tears running down his cheeks. Taking his thumb, Kyrell wipes the tears, his thumb lingering for a while longer.
Grip loosening on Brian, the brown-haired boy goes back in, slowly taking Kyrell in this time, looking up as if asking for approval. His lips fit around Kyrell so perfectly; he was just the right size, not too big, but definitely not small. Brian wasn’t entirely innocent in this either; he had fantasized about taking Kyrell like this, being completely under his control. He had it now and was never going to let go. For Brian, this wasn’t gonna be a one-time thing, and it better not be for Kyrell either.
Bringing his hand back up, Brian starts stroking while taking in more. His head bobbing up and down, moans seeping through Kyrell’s lips, sliding his lips off, licking down the shaft, taking his time, enjoying every inch. When Brian reaches Kyrell’s balls, he takes them one by one, sucking, licking, and pulling on them. “Fuck~” Kyrell whimpers just loud enough for Brian to hear.
Feeling the ball build up in his stomach, Kyrell pulls Brian back onto his dick, needing his lips wrapped around him again. Brian obeyed, his lips clinging to the thick shaft, spit dripping down his chin. With one last bob, Kyrell comes, juices hitting the back of Brian’s throat, leaving him no choice but to swallow.
“You taste so good, Ky.”
Brian gets off the ground, walks steadily to the bed, unbuckling his belt, and letting it fall behind him. Kyrell’s perverted eyes follow every move, paying close attention, engraving it into his mind for eternity. The way his hips swayed, the rosy flushed tone on his face, god even the way his ass was sculpted, all of it drove Kyrell fucking crazy. He wanted to pounce on him right then and there, wanted to take him for what he was worth.
To sink his teeth into that pretty exposed skin, he needed a taste. Standing in front of the bed, his back turned to the younger, Brian strips off his pants, pulling them down as slowly as he could. It was a show, a one-man show just for Kyrell’s eyes. Pants falling around his ankles, Brian steps out, kicking them aside. Lifting the shirt above his head, teasingly just like earlier, every movement captivated Kyrell, exposing the toned back beneath. Kyrell feels his mouth water, needing him even more now.
“Fuck me good.”
Brian says with swollen lips, not even turning back, tone erotic and bending over, ass up angle in a way where his pretty pearl is making direct contact with the younger. With shaky legs, Kyrell makes his way over to the bed, and lube rests in his palm. Squirting a small dab onto his middle finger, teasing the rimming of Brian’s hole. Whimpers muffle into the hotel pillow. Kyrell finally pushes in, wet walls suck in the digit as filthy sounds fly from the bottom's lips.
“I got you, baby.” Kyrell didn’t know if he had actually “got this” because, after just oral, his head was already spinning. Being inside Brian was completely different, and he wasn’t even in yet, but he was grasping for every breath.
Curling his finger up, Kyrell can feel the pleasure building in Brian’s body. Sliding in another finger, making scissor movements, the room explodes with moans, but not only from Brian, but this sight also has Kyrell disgustingly turned on. The mix of moans and sloppy skin slapping was all too much for Kyrell. He didn’t know how much longer he could last. Pushing for the third digit, Kyrell leans in, spitting on his partner's ass, the slick running into his gaping hole.
Three fingers deep, gliding in and out, pressing pleasure onto his prostate with every stroke. He couldn’t t take it anymore, he had to be in there. Pulling his fingers out with a pop, Brian groans at the loss of intense pressure. Before he could even mutter a complaint, Kyrell was lined up with his entrance, lowering himself slowly until he bottomed out.
“Fuck~ mmm,”
Brian is full, completely full of cock, disgusting, filthy cock. All 9 inches of Kyrell deep inside, making his brain sputter with every thrust. Picking up his pace, Kyrell intertwines his hand in Brian's soft locks. Pulling roughly, causing the others to arch up, whimpers falling from his mouth. “You feel so good, bunny.” Kyrell cries, head falling to his chest. Sweat falling from his forehead straight into Brian's back, breath running out of his chest.
His hips sputter as his pace maxes out, slowing himself down. Kyrell flips Brian over, back, hitting the bed. Leaning forward, Kyrell smashes his lips onto Brian, tasting his come still left over on Brian’s lips. The thrust getting sloppier as Kyrell finds himself entranced in the kiss. For the last 3 and a half years of his life, this was all Kyrell had wanted: him and Brian being together. He felt as if he was on cloud nine, tasting the man he had wanted to be this close for years.
Breaking from the kiss, Kyrell’s pace picks up, thrusting even harder, hitting Brian’s prostate over and over again. Sliding his hand over Brian’s torso, tracing over the outlines of his abs until he reaches his V-line, fingers trickling down all the way to his cock. Kyrell’s hand grips Brian’s cock, stroking while penetrating his pretty hole. Overstimulation builds in Brian’s body, and he feels everything at once. His dick twitching in Kyrell’s hand, pre-cum being used as lube.
“Kyrell let me cum.”
Thrust and strokes speeding up, throwing Brian over the edge. “Cum for me, bunny…please.” Kyrell moans, that was it. Brian exploded in whimpers as his cock shot white cum all over his stomach. Kyrell is still fucking his hole, chasing after his orgasm.
Fucking Brian’s overstimulated body, as whimpers fly out of the bottom's mouth. Kyrell half bent over, panting like that puppy, rolling his hips deeper and deeper. Finally, his body stiffens, throwing his head back, filling Brian with his sweet cum.
Both of their bodies are going limp, lying on the bed, sweat-covered bodies. The smell of sex suffocates the air. Kyrell gets up, grabbing a towel from the bathroom, cleaning himself and Brian up.
“Got another round in you?” Kyrell giggles, looking softly into Brian’s half-hooded eyes.