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He’s not supposed to be here—not really. He’d fantasized about it, though, to such great lengths that he could detail it like a memory. It would matter, but it doesn’t; his daydreams deviate from his current situation so wildly that he thinks maybe he had it all wrong. In his delusions, he gets into this room because he is special . In reality, it goes a bit like this:
Sunghoon would not have left his room today if there hadn’t been a limited merch event at the café near the third train station from his house. And, really, isn’t it Jungwon’s fault for insisting? Not that he could refuse him, anyway. He knows that, unlike Jake and Heeseung, Jungwon understands him. So, he agrees maybe a little too readily, and he is fourth in line when Jungwon arrives, much before the café even opens.
The skin of his thighs burns from the cold biting viciously into it, insistent on freezing Sunghoon as much as possible before the sun rises. By the time staff arrives, the tips of his fingers are a light lilac that most definitely isn’t his colour. The staff, nervously, seems to look at them with pity—either because of the cold or because she thinks them crazy. It’s fine if she doesn’t understand, though; she opens the doors fifteen minutes later, on the dot.
Inside, the heat seems to melt his skin along with the frost, and he can’t help but think that he wants to go home. The girls in front of him take an eternity to get their order, and they keep looking back at them and giggling , in a way that makes Sunghoon’s cheeks burn in embarrassment. Once it’s his turn to order, he’s already so exhausted from the entire thing that he nearly rips the photocard out of the worker’s hand, apologizes, and goes to stand shakily in the waiting area.
On the other hand, it only takes one smile from Jungwon for the cashier to be entirely enamoured, and he can’t help but, once again, resent his friend’s natural charisma. He looks down at the Sunoo picture in his palm, running his thumb over the surface to calm himself. Focused as he is on it, he can almost tune out the overbearing noise around him, until he hears his name being called. The coffee is slightly bitter, but its warmth clears away the last of his shivers, and the small keychain tied to the lid of his new reusable cup makes it worth it.
If the cup is plain—black with Enhypen’s logo printed in a bold, white font—the charm had been entirely designed by Sunoo. The gold chain loops through pearly yellow and orange beads, matching perfectly with the adorable sun and fox charms.
The girls have left by now, but he can still hear their laughter hanging on the lips of all the other people in line, pointedly picking apart how different he is—and, as always, he has no idea why . All he knows is hushed whispers and giggles follow him everywhere, without so much of a direction, too faint for him to ever make out what’s so wrong with him that everyone else can see.
( It doesn’t matter , he thinks. It doesn’t matter, because Sunoo doesn’t care the way they do. He’d told him, last fan sign, that being different was a strength—not a flaw. That he’s sure he hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s enough, for now. Sunoo, when he laughs, doesn’t sound like a hyena starving to consume him whole. How could anyone else ever matter the same?)
They walk around, but Jungwon seems to notice he’s already depleted of energy, twitching every time he hears a voice, as though it could only really ever be directed at him. When Jungwon tells him to go home and rest, it’s such a relief that he nearly runs.
In hindsight, this is where it all goes wrong:
On his way to the station, he notices two suspicious figures coming out of a dark alley. They’re headed the opposite way, so Sunghoon has all the time in the world to see the man’s dark brows over intense eyes, and the chrome piercing decorating the outside of his left brow. The other person’s face is slightly hidden from being pressed into the first one’s shoulder, a long limb wrapping itself around his body as they walk. They’re both wearing masks, and any normal person would walk by without a question in the world.
But Sunghoon is not normal. He’s always been different , and he knows it just as well as anyone else. Immediately, he knows the men to be Ni-ki and Jay from the thousands of videos of them he’s watched. His heart insists on lumping in his throat, where his lungs are already cramming themselves. In his hand, his cup starts slipping from the sheen developing on his skin, and he trembles.
They pass him, and that’s that. Cool , would say Heeseung. Oh my God , would squeak Jake. But Sunghoon—Sunghoon thinks where’s Sunoo ? He thinks, this is my lucky day .
And, really, if any other thought had made it to his mind at the moment, he might not have turned around and followed them. But his brain must have been stuffed somewhere equally unfortunate as his heart, because he does. The entire time, all he thinks about is that they will meet Sunoo somewhere, and Sunghoon could take a few pictures and leave. Jungwon would go insane at the thought that he had missed Jay so narrowly, and Heeseung and Jake would laugh at their two friends’ screeches.
He has it all figured out, which is probably why he follows them to the foot of a building that stands much taller than the ones around. And, really, he would have to be an idiot not to take the olive branch fate itself seems to be extending him; he burns the address into the front of his brain, right along with everything else he knows of Sunoo.
Kim Sunoo; 22; main vocalist of Enhypen; likes cats; thinks Sunghoon is special , not different ; hands only slightly smaller than Sunghoon’s, feel warm when they touch at fan meetings; likes watching k-dramas; resides in the building with the tall windows, two blocks away from the third train station near his house, if you follow the path from the café where they serve bitter coffee and look at him weird.
He would feel guilty about it if Sunoo weren’t meant for him. But he’s special , and he knows that fate has weird ways of working. He could be on a walk with Gaeul—or running errands. The specifics do not matter so much as the moment he would run into Sunoo, and the boy’s lips would form the most beautiful smile in the world again.
But Sunghoon has always been greedy .
He'd like to say he doesn’t go home and analyse all of Enhypen’s recent livestreams to see if he can find out anything, but he does just that the second his computer turns on. He finds what he’s looking for in a comeback live with Jay. For the most part, the camera is aimed at his face. He often sends it embarrassed smiles as he tries to explain the concept of their upcoming song without spoiling it. He looks fragile, wrapped in a dark green hoodie that hangs off his body like silk instead of cheap polyester. He’d be beautiful, if Sunghoon was into that. He’s about to play the next video when it finally happens; Jay turns the camera to show fans something on his desk.
It’s only for a second, but that’s all Sunghoon needs. He pauses as Jay turns, and the view from his window is dark but he can see the very top of a tree obscuring it further from the sliver of clear glass not entirely covered by black curtains.
If he had stopped there, it would have been fine, really. But four days later finds him counting windows to the top of a tall tree while he knows them to be performing. They live on the third floor, he concludes. The eighth window to the left of the entrance.
It’s almost too easy to walk in. There’s no one at the entrance, except a resident who’s grumpily grabbing his letters from the small mailbox in the wall, wearing nothing but a bathing robe. He takes the stairs because his brain insists on plaguing him with the irrational fear that he’ll be caught if he takes the elevator.
By the time he makes it to the third floor, his heart thrums anxiously under his skin, and every hair on his body seems to make it its mission to stand as tall as it possibly can. He shivers, and counts his steps until he reaches what he thinks is the right door.
He takes one look at the door lock’s buttons—some of the numbers are faint—and enters their debut date. It buzzes, and his lungs flatten themselves to the back of his ribs as he walks through the door. Inside, the hallway is dark, illuminated only by a light that seems to have been forgotten as they left for their performance earlier. The door clicks shut behind him. His heart beats holes into his lungs when he realises that he’s in . That there’s no turning back.
He walks deeper inside, taking in every detail while his eyes adjust to the darkness. One of the chairs in the kitchen is covered in clothing messily piled onto it, some of which he remembers having seen at the airport or on videos. A few pairs of shoes are tossed close to the wall of the hallway; he avoids them as best as he can as he navigates toward the two closed doors in the back.
One of the rooms looks smaller from the outside; he enters that one first. The computer in the corner buzzes lightly, emitting a faint blueish light that bathes the rest of the room in colour. The bed is clumsily made, covered in a thick, white comforter. On the opposite wall, a small dresser fills the space next to two large sliding doors. He walks up to it, letting his trembling hands pull on the first drawer. Socks. He pushes it back and moves to the second.
His breath catches in the back of his throat at underwear carefully rolled into neat rows, with a few pairs hastily shoved in between. His fingers twitch against the wood. He’s always been awfully weak; it only takes a simple he’ll never notice for his hand to grab the fabric of a pair at random. He fills the hole its absence forms by flattening the pairs around it, and he hurries to push the drawer closed.
His skin tingles with excitement, cheeks burning as he brings the fabric closer to his face. It exudes a fresh, sweet fragrance that he knows to be fabric softener. He thinks, somewhat deliriously, that he could smell Sunoo’s own scent if he brought it against his nose. He thumbs at the parts where the fabric has thinned slightly from the friction.
He stuffs it in the back pocket of his jeans before he does something deeply embarrassing, urging his cheeks to stop burning so fierily. He makes sure to close the door on his way out, and he’s just about to leave when his mind guiltily reminds him of Jungwon. It’ll only take a minute, he decides, and Jungwon had always been the only person to understand him . He knows that he’s already being unfair by keeping this information to himself, and his friend at least deserves something of Jay just the same as he deserves something of Sunoo.
He walks to the other door. The room is bigger, occupied by a much larger bed. He knows that Jay and Ni-ki must share the room since there doesn’t seem to be another, and their clothes are mixed on the leather couch he often sees in their lives. He hesitates, thrown off by the distinct lack of dressers. Reluctantly, he makes his way to the closet. It’s crammed so full of clothes that his eyes take a while to notice anything but layers upon layers of coats and shirts, but he finally sees a few plastic trays on the overhead shelf.
For a second, he worries that he won’t be able to differentiate what belongs to Ni-ki and what belongs to Jay. The thought dies in the back of his mind when he pulls on the first one and recognizes the brand from dancing challenges where the band had peeked over the waist of Ni-ki’s jeans. When he pulls on the second one, his brain comes to a halt so decisively that he wonders if perhaps he’s about to wake up from a dream. He’s already mourning the loss of the treasure in his pocket when it decides that it’s deprived Sunghoon of thoughts long enough, and sends them all out at once. The very first makes its way to his dick with diligence; he feels it twitch in his pants against his will.
The tray is filled with dozens of delicate, frilly panties, each in colours and prints more girly than the last. His trembling fingers brush against the soft fabric, near hypnotized by the pastel lace adorning the small underwear.
If he weren’t so silent, he would never have heard the front door click as it opened.
His heart stills in his chest, insistent that it mustn’t make noise. He nearly throws the tray back onto the shelf in panic, before looking around and realising that he’s in danger . The door to the room is almost closed completely, but there’s no way he could ever make it out without being seen. He does the next best thing: he crams himself into the closet and closes the door. It hits the tip of his shoe from where he can’t fold his leg any closer to his body, but he hopes the gap it leaves is thin enough that he won’t be noticed.
His lungs catch onto his ribs with every breath he takes, and his throat seems to be filled with cotton for the minutes he spends, completely in the dark, listening to muffled voices talking on the other side of the door. He can’t make out any of the words, but each one seems to be spoken closer to his ear, surrounding him. The hairs on his neck rise from a breath against the skin of his shoulder that simply isn’t there. He shivers, horrified, and hugs his legs to his body.
There’s some rustling, then the door to the room opens with a squeaky noise. It closes just as loudly, and Sunghoon panics . He tells himself, hidden in the corner of a dark closet, that he never should have come. His greed had been punished, and he would hide under heavy leather coats and jean jackets and thick hoodies for the rest of his life. He thinks he sees a spider looking up at him in the other corner, next to a ball of dust, and he nearly sobs. This will be his life forever, trapped behind a door that doesn’t quite close, as he watches a spider build a family and live its life without a care in the world.
He thinks, for a few seconds, that he’s going blind from grief until he realises that someone has turned on the light. Rushed footsteps come to a stop just a few metres in front of Sunghoon; the bed creaks as someone falls onto it and giggles . It takes him a few seconds to recognize Jay. His eyes twinkle with what must be delight, lined with dark eyeliner—they most definitely came back home right after the performance. Sunghoon can’t tell if the flush on his cheeks is natural or powdered on, but it results in him looking bullied just the same.
A pale hand traces its way to Jay’s waist, crawling under the fabric of his shirt, contrasting against his tan, honeyed skin in a way that can’t be anything but depraved. Sunghoon forgets how to breathe, hypnotized by the thumb rubbing circles into Jay’s skin.
“We just got home, princess,” says a deep voice. Sunghoon nearly jumps, heart beating erratically against his ribs. If anything, Ni-ki is entirely oblivious, continuing in an amused tone. “Are you really that impatient?”
Jay’s lips stretch into a smile, and he loops his arms around Ni-ki’s neck, pulling him backwards until his back hits the mattress, the younger man looming dangerously over him. Sunghoon’s mouth is so dry swallowing feels like sanding the entirety of his throat, which is doomed to let his heart painfully lump in it, beating against his skin as though playing a song along the line of his neck. His eyes get blurry until he remembers to tear them away from the scene in front of him long enough to blink.
“Don’t act like your hand wasn’t down my pants in the car,” Jay finally replies.
Sunghoon’s first thought once his mind manages to gather itself is that Jungwon’s heart will break in half. His second is that it’s filthy , the way they look at each other. Jay’s blushed cheeks must be makeup, because the flush that overtakes his ears and the side of his neck is infinitely more alluring. He’s almost pouting, fingers tugging at the hair on the back of Ni-ki’s scalp. And Ni-ki—Ni-ki looks far too pleased with the sight for it to be anything but outrageous.
“Are you sure that was me? Sounds like you’re making things up so I’ll pay attention to you.”
Jay’s eyes narrow at the objection, but Ni-ki only laughs and leans down, diligently, to press a kiss into his hyung’s lips. Sunghoon is so quiet he forgets he’s even there himself, as the room fills with wet, sloppy noises. The closet is suddenly much too warm for him, and his clothes seem to stick to his skin with great insistence. In his pants, his cock twitches weakly, against his better judgement. Jay pulls away just enough to lick his lips and whisper, loud enough for Sunghoon to hear from his spot in the closet.
“I’m wearing those panties you really like. The stylist almost saw—I had to clench so hard not to ruin those leather pants.”
Sunghoon barely understands the words that follow panties. His dick’s definitely interested, now, and it doesn’t care in the least what Sunghoon’s rationality has to say about it. He’s astounded that Ni-ki only laughs, instead of pouncing on the boy immediately.
“Oh, you are? Good girl, let oppa see.”
Jay moans softly at that; how could Sunghoon ever stand a chance at all? He carefully presses his palm over his dick, willing it down through the fabric of his jeans, and does his best not to sigh. When that doesn’t work, he at least has the sense to realise this could be his ticket out. He takes out his phone as quietly as he can, just in time for the camera to catch Ni-ki leaning over to capture Jay’s lips into a messy kiss again, distracting him from his fingers crawling under the hem of his pants, pulling them down with ease. He pulls back just enough for the fabric to pool on the ground, and then he’s biting on Jay’s lips again, like those few seconds had been enough to completely rob him of air.
White lace contrasts nicely with the boy’s tan skin—it’s almost debauched , how it clings to the soft curve of his ass. Then, Ni-ki’s hand follows a near hypnotic path to the inside of Jay’s thighs, where he starts tracing patterns with his fingers. Sunghoon can’t see from this angle, but judging from Jay’s needy whines, they’re more interested in his dick than the skin of his thighs. God, must it be small to fit in so little fabric—Ni-ki’s big hand should easily be enough to cover it entirely, and then some. Jay seems to have the same thought process, hips twitching with great greed as he attempts to push it into his bandmate’s touch, letting each of his whimpers die in the warmth of Ni-ki’s mouth.
Once he realises that the other boy doesn’t want to make it so easy for him, his thighs tremble and he spreads them, allowing Sunghoon to finally see Ni-ki’s shameless fingers pressing into Jay’s skin, over the white fabric. It takes a few seconds for Sunghoon to realise what he’s seeing. His own dick is so hard it hurts, squeezed in between his stomach and his thighs, and his vision is blurry with lust.
Instead of the wet, little cock he expects to be straining against lace, Jay’s underwear clings to a damp patch, where Ni-ki is pushing it deeper with his thumb, in between the fat lips of a dripping pussy.
Sunghoon can’t help it: he chokes. One of his fingers knocks lightly against the inside of the closet’s door in his surprise, and his breath catches in the back of his throat. For a moment, he’s completely still, heart hammering wildly into the sides of his lungs. The boys on the bed seem completely oblivious to the sound, and relief almost overtakes him. Almost, because Ni-ki waits to finish kissing Jay properly before pulling back—to look directly at Sunghoon.
Or at his general area , Sunghoon tries to convince himself. The gap left by the door is barely enough for two of his fingers to slide through, so there’s no way for Ni-ki to see him, really. Still, his body feels feverish, skin burning with shame from the boy’s piercing gaze. In the corner, crouched as he is, he feels small , like a prey who’s just been caught by a hunter, waiting for its inevitable captivity, frozen. He shivers, willing his hand steady to avoid making any more noise.
Jay complains when Ni-ki pulls back entirely. In Sunghoon’s chest, his heart seems intent on escaping through his throat if he doesn’t move soon, but his feet are anchored to the ground. The sound of Ni-ki’s steps echo around in his mind, occupying it whole, leaving him completely unable to think of anything but the idol’s slow approach. The entire time, he expects to wake up from a nightmare, in his bed, shaky but safe .
Instead, the door shielding him opens and Jay screeches. He nearly screams back—excuses, explanations, anything—but he’s frozen in place by the dark look on Ni-ki’s face, shoulders shaking almost violently.
“Well, aren’t you a little freak? Sneaking into people’s homes like that.”
He wants to answer, tell him that he’s not. That he’s special . His mouth refuses to move, molten from the heat burning his cheeks with shame, sneaking to the back of his neck to prickle the skin until he thinks he’s about to combust.
“Did you like the show, boy?” Ni-ki asks, and a strange noise finally makes it past the lump in his throat. It doesn’t matter, anyway, because it refuses to form itself into a coherent word. He shakes, trying to make himself small enough that the idols simply won’t see him anymore.
“N—no,” he finally manages to mumble. His voice sounds foreign to his own ears, as though muffled by bits of cotton in his mouth. Ni-ki laughs, then, and Sunghoon notices his eyes looking down at his crotch, where his bulge is still evident despite the horror occupying the rest of his body with no great difficulty.
“Oh, I don’t know. Seems to me that you did.”
His foot kicks Sunghoon’s thighs apart forcefully, and presses against his dick with insistence. Sunghoon’s brain halts almost completely, vision blurry as he tries not to moan. His mind comes to from the sound of a sharp, lewd gasp. When he realises it was his , the mortification seems to finally unfreeze his shivering body. He bolts to his feet, intent on shoving his way past Ni-ki’s body. He’s somewhat successful, in that he manages to walk about two steps towards the door before a hand grabs his left wrist, strong enough for his shoulder to twist.
He tries not to hiss in pain and turns back to look at Ni-ki’s face. His expression is oddly blank, making it all the more terrifying. Although Sunghoon’s eyes are almost level with the idol’s, he feels like a child who got caught sneaking around, small and weak , under the intensity of his stare. He raises his trembling right hand over his head, revealing the video he had taken of them.
“I—I won’t ever come back,” he starts. This is wrong , he thinks. He has the upper hand over them. He tries to even out his breathing before he continues, but his voice is still unsteady. “Let me go.”
Unexpectedly, Ni-ki only smiles, his eyes shaping themselves into crescents with amusement. His grip on Sunghoon’s wrist tightens, in a way that’s sure to leave a bruise. He reaches for the phone, and though Sunghoon tries to raise it away from his grasp, Ni-ki’s limbs are simply longer . He tosses it towards the leather couch, raising an inquisitive brow when Sunghoon instinctively steps towards it.
“What now, pretty boy?”
His mind is lost to dizziness, unable to decide if he should try to grab his phone back or attempt to run through the door. In the end, he walks towards the couch and Ni-ki takes the opportunity to sidestep him and grab his second wrist, bringing them both behind his back where he stands. Sunghoon struggles, trying to break free, digging his nails into the skin of his hands as best as he can. He hears a surprised hiss and, hopeful, he brings one of his feet up to stomp on Ni-ki’s toes as forcefully as he can. The dancer only laughs, and Sunghoon wonders, then, if perhaps he’d been supporting a murderer this entire time.
“Don’t react like that, boy . Jay will take good care of you—isn’t that right, princess?”
Definitely a murderer. He tries not to shake as he thinks of Ni-ki holding him still while Jay beats him up, half-naked and still in the world’s prettiest makeup. On the bed, Jay startles. He looks at his bandmate with intent, and then back at Sunghoon. His eyes seem to pick him apart, inch by inch, until his entire body is captive to his stare. When the idol gets up to walk towards him, he twists away in fear, to no avail.
With no other options available, he scrunches his eyes shut, ready to take the hits. The first one comes in the form of a soft touch against his lips—he startles. It’s over soon enough, but the corners of his mouth stick together from residues of what must be gloss; Jay had just kissed him , he realises. His heart lumps in his chest when he remembers that it’s his first kiss since the clumsy one he had shared with a girl in middle school, who had later ghosted him.
He opens his eyes just in time to see the man sinking to his knees in front of him, big black eyes still trained on Sunghoon’s face with near obsession, panties completely soaked. He only looks away when his face is close enough to Sunghoon’s pants that he thinks he can feel the warmth of his mouth through the fabric. Jay leans forward, tongue pressing against Sunghoon’s dick, dampening the front of his jeans with saliva, and Sunghoon—Sunghoon can’t hold back a gasp. If his dick had softened from his confrontation with Ni-ki, he still couldn’t resist Jay mouthing at the outline of his cock like he could taste it,
Behind him, Ni-ki shifts his wrists so he can hold them both with one hand, the other sneaking to the front of his jeans, unbuttoning them. With the path cleared, his warm fingers sear the skin of Sunghoon’s stomach with their touch, slipping under the waistband of his underwear confidently. They brush against his dick as if he was toying with him. He probably is , he thinks, as Ni-ki’s hand finally wraps around his cock, too loosely for it to feel good. Sunghoon’s thighs tremble; his hips twitch weakly, trying to get friction from the man’s skin nonetheless. When it doesn’t prove to be enough, his head falls back against Ni-ki’s shoulder, and he whines in frustration.
The noise, though it makes Sunghoon’s skin tingle with shame, only seems to encourage Jay more. He pulls Sunghoon’s underwear down to his knees, letting his jeans pool around his ankles, as if displeased by the slow pace. Jay’s hand wraps around his dick, right under Ni-ki’s, much tighter, and Sunghoon sighs at the feeling. His own hand had never been so warm or so soft, and his mind had never scrambled itself with such efficiency. When Ni-ki speaks against the back of his neck, Sunghoon fails to understand the words, too contented with shivering from the brush of soft lips against his skin.
“Look at you, doll. Always been so weak for a pretty face, huh?”
He only knows the comment to be directed at Jay from the way the man glares up at him from his spot on the ground.
“Like you’re any better. He could have been dangerous.”
Ni-ki snorts, but Jay’s obviously not interested in talking anymore, because he brings his mouth to Sunghoon’s tip and kisses it, tongue dipping out to lick around it. His legs tremble. He bites his lips, holding back a moan he knows couldn’t be anything but embarrassingly filthy .
“Nah,” Ni-ki says. Sunghoon’s too focused on the way Jay’s wet, warm tongue feels against the underside of dick to pay attention. “I’ve seen him at fan signs before—I know the type. Asocial loser who’s too obsessed with hyung to care that he’s still a virgin.”
Jay’s mouth pauses its diligent mapping of Sunghoon’s cock so he can laugh, and Sunghoon nearly wants to sob. Without Jay’s warmth, and covered in spit, it feels uncomfortably cold now, and his mind is overcast with so many clouds that the only thought he manages to grab onto is how much he wants the feeling of the man’s tongue back.
“Is that right, pretty?” asks Jay, amused. His lips brush against Sunghoon’s tip when he speaks, and he takes mercy on him just enough to rest it on his tongue while he waits for an answer, staring up at Sunghoon’s face. If Sunghoon had understood the question, he would have been more than happy to answer, really. Instead, he whines without the least shame in the world and thrusts his hips, stuffing his dick in Jay’s mouth, gasping in relief at the warmth.
Jay’s at least nice enough to let him, and then sink his mouth the rest of the way, until Sunghoon feels his nose against the skin of his navel. He moans, so overwhelmed by the sensation that he nearly falls back against Ni-ki’s body entirely. His shoulders twist uncomfortably, trying to follow the rest of his body despite the idol’s firm hold on his wrists. Perhaps out of pity, Ni-ki releases them, choosing to instead wrap his arms loosely around Sunghoon’s body.
And, really, had Sunghoon’s mind not been so filled with lust, he might have realised that he’d been freed. He chooses to cage his fingers in the strands of Jay’s hair, holding his head as his hips twitch weakly, shallowly fucking the man’s warm mouth. His vision blurs, lost to pleasure as he is, and he all but leans completely on Ni-ki’s body, head thrown back onto his shoulder, barely held up by his arms around his waist while the idol’s hands mindlessly rub circles into his stomach over the fabric of his shirt, as though he were an upset child .
He doesn’t realise he’s come until Jay swallows around him and it nearly hurts ; he whimpers, releasing Jay’s head. The idol doesn’t seem to care, following him as he leans back further, and Sunghoon raises trembling hands to weakly push at his shoulders. Every noise around him seems to be filtered by bits of cotton, which is probably why he doesn’t hear Ni-ki’s laughter until his vision focuses enough to see his face from below.
“Oh, so fast,” he teases. “If I let you go, can you get to the bed on your own, pretty boy?”
He’s not sure why he nods. In the back of his mind, a small voice screams that he needs to get out of there as fast as he can and never look back. It’s immediately muffled by the hundreds of other voices that insist he can be good and listen. He gets to the bed—on his own—and sits against the headrest, head fuzzy, watching the way Jay’s face looks being kissed breathless now that he’s stood up from the floor.
Ni-ki seems to take great pleasure in biting his lips any chance he gets, forcing his bandmate to whine for attention. His fingers are already hooked to the hem of Jay’s panties, teasing, slipping under the fabric every so often without touching him much at all. It doesn’t take long for Jay to throw his arms around his neck and pull him back to the bed just as he had earlier. His head lands close to Sunghoon, and his hand instinctively reaches for the idol’s hair before he stops himself.
“So impatient, princess. Do you like the little freak watching you so much?”
Sunghoon knows it to be him before Ni-ki even glances his way. His cheeks burn in humiliation at being put on the spot like this. But I’m special , echoes in his head. It only takes the reminder of Ni-ki’s lips forming the word freak for it to be drowned out completely, allowing shame to take to his skin and stain it red. His mind screams at him, reasoning that he can’t be different from the others when he’d betrayed his love for Sunoo in exchange for the first warm mouth around his cock. Jay’s laughter only serves to make his stomach twist onto itself further.
“He is pretty, isn’t he?” At that, he glances up at Sunghoon, amused. He frowns and adds, “His dick’s not that big, but it’s not like he’s unfuckable. What a shame.”
His body insists on weighing his limbs down so well that he feels completely unable to control them. His brain reasons that he must really be a freak, though, because his cock twitches, despite feeling so entirely exposed the rest of his body seems completely foreign. He doesn’t even realise his hand has moved against his will until he feels his palm press down against his dick. It’s still slightly sensitive, but he feels himself get hard again, listening to the singers discuss him like he’s not even in the room.
“God,” laughs Ni-ki. “He really has no shame, huh?”
He leans down to kiss Jay messily again, licking and biting his lips and staring at Sunghoon with piercing eyes. Every time his eyes flicker up to him, Sunghoon feels his heart beat wildly in his chest, and his hand unconsciously tightens around his cock. It only gets worse when Ni-ki finally pulls Jay’s panties down, the lace so drenched it sticks to his wet cunt, and Sunghoon gets a perfect view of the idol’s pale fingers dipping in between pretty pink lips. He bites his lip to hold back an obscene gasp.
“Come here, boy.”
He only needs one insistent look from Ni-ki to crawl over to where he is, uncaring of how stupid he must look, with only a shirt on, on his knees for someone younger than him.
“Touch him,” he simply says. When Sunghoon raises a trembling hand to brush his fingers against the soft skin of Jay’s thighs, he looks annoyed. “Touch his cunt , you freak.”
Sunghoon’s neck itches at the remark, breaking into a flushed, warm spot. He uncertainly traces the path to Jay’s pussy. Jay gasps when his thumb delves in between his wet lips to press against his clit, hypnotized as he watches it swell and redden when he rubs it. One of his fingers feels the dip of his hole, and sinks into it without much thought. He obsessively stares at the way the man’s pussy clenches around his finger, whenever he pulls it out and pushes it back in.
“Oh, just fuck me already. I’m never gonna get off like this.”
Sunghoon’s hand flinches away. He’s speechless, waiting for Ni-ki to instruct him further—because, ultimately, he’s already accepted that Jay isn’t the threat between the both of them.
“Well?” inquires the man. “Are you that stupid, pretty boy? He said, fuck him.”
Sunghoon wants to protest, really, he does. But his mouth is too dry for it to be worth much, working past his sandpaper throat. His words would only erode like glass and come out in embarrassing bits of complaints and whimpers. He crawls up to Jay’s body, sliding in between his thighs. And then, he’s not sure what else to do. He’s never been in between someone’s legs before, much less someone as pretty as Jay, and he’s certainly never had a man breathing against his neck, waiting for him to obey .
He slides his hands under each of Jay’s legs and pulls them up over his shoulders, in what he thinks is an acceptable position. They’re much heavier than expected against his shoulders, but Jay seems satisfied, his hole fluttering in anticipation. Sunghoon lines his dick up to it with a shaky hand. When he pushes, he meets unexpected resistance. Unsure what else to do, he rubs the tip of his cock between Jay’s soaked lips, wetting it, and then tries again. He gasps, feeling his cunt’s warmth surround the very tip, so tight he trembles. Once the head makes it in, the rest of his dick pushes in without much trouble, as though Jay’s cunt was only toying with his mind.
One of his arms loops around Jay’s thigh to steady himself, and his eyes get blurry from the pleasure of Jay’s warm cunt clenching around his cock, driving him nearly delirious. He tries to thrust deeper and whines when he finds that he can’t. He pulls back, immediately hating the feeling of not having a pretty pussy surrounding his dick, and thrusts again. It feels good enough that he nearly feels drool drip down his chin as he moans, so he swallows it before the idols can notice.
“Oh, pretty,” sighs Jay. “You’re gonna have to do a bit better than that.”
He whimpers, thighs trembling with the effort of not fucking embarrassingly shallowly into Jay’s cunt. Instead, he thrusts in as hard as he can, pulling a first moan out of Jay.
“ A—ah ! That’s it, fuck me!”
His fingers twitch against Jay’s skin. Around his cock, Jay only seems to be getting wetter, warmer , and Sunghoon worries that he might burn from the man’s cunt alone. He thrusts in mindlessly, unable to stop his hips from moving. The room fills with wet, lewd noises, only interrupted by Sunghoon’s shameful moaning and Jay’s desperate pleas. Behind him, Ni-ki rubs his back over his shirt, and Sunghoon once again feels completely ridiculous. He’s relieved when the touch stops, though it leaves his skin uncomfortably cold. Ni-ki’s hand is back only a moment later, this time spreading his ass. His hole clenches, reflexively, before he feels a wet finger press against it.
A protest rises in his throat, but Ni-ki’s faster. He slips the finger inside Sunghoon’s hole without a care in the world for his pained whimper. It burns , and Sunghoon only realises his eyes are filled with tears when the first one rolls down his cheek. If anything, his crying is infinitely more humiliating than the long finger in his ass; he holds the tears as best as he can, body trembling all over.
“I don’t recall anyone asking you to stop, little freak.”
With great difficulty, he focuses on thrusting inside of Jay. Ni-ki’s fingers follow him no matter how close he sticks to Jay, and he can’t help but bend over his body, trying to escape them. Jay takes pity on him, his hand cradling Sunghoon’s jaw and pulling him in a kiss that at least distracts him from the feeling of his hole being stretched wider by Ni-ki’s fingers. He closes his eyes, enjoying messily licking Jay’s lips, uncaring of his own spit dripping down his chin when Jay’s tongue enters his mouth. Like this, stuffing his cock into Jay’s cunt, every move feels like he’s fucking himself back against Ni-ki’s knuckles.
He doesn’t notice the door has opened until he hears a new voice, and his eyes struggle to see past the tears blurring his vision.
Ni-ki and the intruder have a quick conversation in hushed tones that he can’t make out over the sound of his heart beating against his ribs. Although he can’t understand the words, he would know that voice anywhere. In his head, he’d imagined it talking to him sweetly thousands of times. Instead, it echoes around the room, so cutting it’s nearly frightening. Jay whines at the lack of attention, his arms surrounding Sunghoon’s neck to force him into a deeper kiss, biting his bottom lip as punishment for pulling away.
This time, the singer’s lips fail to pull Sunghoon away from his thoughts. In his mind, hundreds of excuses swim, yet none of them manage to pass his lips, captured so passionately by Jay’s. He didn’t mean to , he thinks. He still loves him; he’d never cheat on him . He wonders, perhaps, if Sunoo could forgive him the sin of forgetting their love, if just for an instant. He won’t do it again—and they forced his hand, anyway.
It’s not what he thinks .
“I was gonna ask if I could have a turn on your boyfriend later,” he hears, finally able to make out some of the words. “But I guess he’s already got that covered.”
“You can always fuck hyung after,” replies Ni-ki. Then, “Here, can you hold this for a sec?”
Sunghoon doesn’t know what he hands Sunoo, but the man scoffs, though Ni-ki focuses on fingering him again a few seconds later, so he’s sure that he has agreed.
“No thanks, I don’t want sloppy seconds. Who knows where that guy’s been, anyway?”
Ni-ki only laughs, and his voice takes a teasingly sweet tone that makes Sunghoon’s cheeks flush.
“How mean, hyung. He’s your fan, isn’t he? Aren’t you jealous that he’s cheating on you?”
In his chest, Sunghoon’s lungs crush the sides of his heart so well that he thinks he’ll suffocate if Jay doesn’t pull back soon. There’s definitely no hiding his tears, now; every brush of Jay’s lips leaves the taste of salt on his tongue. Ni-ki’s words only reignite his guilt at having succumbed to the first person to show him their pretty cunt.
“Ugh, I would never fuck this freak.” There’s a pause, then, as though Sunoo’s considering what else to say. “I guess it’s lucky for him that Jay-hyung’s such a slut.”
Every organ in Sunghoon’s body seems to be struggling against each other, cramming themselves uncomfortably under his skin and twisting so they could be the first to offer themselves to Sunoo. Somewhat deliriously, part of his brain whispers that he should have stuck to walking Gaeul around the block. That he shouldn’t have been greedy . It’s drowned out by the empty feeling Ni-ki leaves when he pulls his fingers out. Against his will, Sunghoon whines in Jay’s mouth, and his hole clenches around nothing.
“God, so needy. Just wait for a second.”
A warm hand spreads his ass again, and then he feels something much bigger pressing against his hole. He panics, flattening himself against Jay’s body completely. It’s too big , his mind screams. He’ll rip in half . Ni-ki doesn’t seem to have the patience to follow Sunghoon’s pace—one of his hands sneaks under Sunghoon’s shirt, forcing a path in between his and Jay’s bodies, and wraps around his throat to pull him back firmly. Jay seems displeased with the outcome, but he bites his lip, staring up at them, and one of his hands trails down to his clit.
“It’s gonna be much easier on you if you don’t move, pretty boy,” Ni-ki warns.
Sunghoon nearly shakes, sniffing his tears away as best as he can with the feeling of the man’s large tip against his hole. It’s so cold, and the wetness doesn’t make it any better. Both his hands crawl up to Ni-ki’s arm to tug on it pathetically, but the man doesn’t budge, slowly thrusting into him. It lasts an eternity, burning Sunghoon from the inside as his hole stretches to accommodate his dick. Impossibly, it keeps going, and Sunghoon can’t help but resent how big he feels inside him. It hurts , and Sunghoon can only throw his head back to moan weakly and drool over his chin.
“There, all in. Wasn’t that hard, was it?”
Ni-ki takes his hand away to instead grip each side of Jay’s waist. Without his support, Sunghoon falls back against Jay’s body, burying his face in the crook of his neck and sobbing. Over his body, Ni-ki leans down to kiss Jay messily, and he feels like a toy being tossed around by two lovers to use as they please. Inside him, Ni-ki’s dick only seems to get bigger. He pulls back, and Sunghoon would be relieved if his ass didn’t follow with, his hole too tight around the dancer’s cock. When he thrusts back into him, Sunghoon’s own dick gets pushed deeper in Jay’s warm cunt. He moans, unable to pick apart the pain from the pleasure he’s feeling.
“Fuck, doll,” whispers Ni-ki against Jay’s lips. “His pussy’s so much tighter than yours.”
Sunghoon whimpers. His tongue seems too big for his mouth as he tries to do anything else.
“Not a— ah! Ngh !” is all he manages when he tries to object. Any of his complaints die in the back of his throat as Ni-ki uses him like a fleshlight, uncaring that it’s completely too much for Sunghoon. His skin burns with shame every time the man praises his pussy , and his mind is lost to dizziness, unable to do anything but let him drool in Jay’s shoulder while he gets fucked almost violently.
“Fuck,” curses Sunoo, sounding near impressed. “I’ve never seen someone break down so fast. How much of a loser can he even be?”
Ni-ki chuckles, and his hands let go of Jay to grab Sunghoon’s wrists and pull them behind his back again. Like this, Sunghoon gets jostled in between their warm bodies, bouncing on Ni-ki’s cock wildly instead of being caged between them.
“How’s that, princess? Are you feeling good from this little creep’s dick?”
Sunghoon hears Jay moan, but his answer eludes him completely. His mind blanks, unable to bear the shame of it all. Inside him, Ni-ki keeps poking at a spot that makes his head turn. Worse of all, his moans escape the confine of his lips with no great difficulty at all.
“ P—please! A—ah !”
They laugh at him, as if his weak, trembling voice was the funniest thing in the world.
“What’s wrong, pretty?” asks Jay. “Don’t pretend you— ngh !—don’t like it when you keep twitching like crazy inside of me— ah !”
Sunoo laughs, and it sounds mean , for the first time. Like the other people on the streets who look at Sunghoon like he’s something to pity.
“Maybe if he begs prettier and stops drooling like an idiot I’ll use his ass a bit,” he says. Every word bites into Sunghoon’s skin. His vision completely blurs with tears, unable to stop his heart from squeezing painfully in his chest.
Embarrassingly, it’s still when Sunoo asks Wait, is that my underwear on the floor? that he comes, releasing his seed in Jay’s cunt. He sobs as Ni-ki continues to use him, not caring that he’s overly sensitive. Sunghoon’s nails dig crescents into the side of his hands while he tries to twist away and run from his dick.
Thankfully, it isn’t long until he feels warmth seep into his hole, Ni-ki burying himself as deep as he can and not moving, hips flush against Sunghoon’s ass while he leans down to kiss Jay one last time. Sunghoon sighs in relief—until he feels something else. Something warmer, thinner, that leaks down the back of his thighs. And he realises Ni-ki’s just emptied himself inside him, pissing in his hole like a filthy public urinal .
He can’t help the tears that roll down his cheeks, even when the man finally pulls out. His hole clenches uselessly, trying to hold back the mix of piss and cum and failing, letting it gush down his thighs. He weakly pushes himself off Jay’s body, standing on shaky legs. It’s only more shameful that Ni-ki has to dress him, pulling the underwear he’d stolen from Sunoo’s room over his ass. It immediately sticks to his skin, even more so when Ni-ki pats his ass before covering it with his jeans.
He's well on his way to the door, legs trembling uncontrollably, when Ni-ki calls out to him again. The idol hands him his phone, still opened on the still of the clip he’d taken earlier.
“Here, pretty boy,” he says simply. And then, a smile stretches his lips and it looks cold . Sunoo hands him something, and Sunghoon realises it’s the idol’s own phone. “Post that little video of yours, if you want. See what happens to this one.”
He turns his screen towards Sunghoon. On it, Sunghoon can see himself—or, rather, he can see his hole, red and bullied, stretching around the largest cock he’s ever seen. The camera moves, and his face is on full display, covered in tears and drool. The speaker plays loud, obscene noises, and Sunghoon’s skin burns when he hears himself nearly screaming. He takes one last teary look at Sunoo, whose stare is completely disinterested, before he leaves.
He walks past the café that serves bitter coffee and whose employees look at him weird, down the few blocks to the station, and sits silently on the train, shifting to avoid the feeling of his jeans dampening and sticking uncomfortably to his skin.
They don’t understand him, he realises. His friends look puzzled when they come to his house, a few weeks later, only to see that every poster of Sunoo has been replaced by a female idol, who had only debuted a few months earlier. He doesn’t answer any of their questions when they ask what happened, or why he doesn’t attend any Enhypen events anymore. Heeseung jokes that he’ll steal Sunoo away from him, and then fusses over him when even that doesn’t pull a reaction out of him.
He doesn’t care, now, when he sees the idol smiling at others. He knows that Sunoo had only led him on, and he’d never been different from his other fans. In his chest, his heart beats wildly against his ribcage every time he remembers how much he had sacrificed for the man, only for his love to be cast aside the moment he’d made a mistake.
Only Jungwon understands him, as always, and he supports Sunghoon. Often, he sends him pictures of Karina that his friends or himself have taken. She’s regularly seen around a neighbourhood Sunghoon doesn’t frequent but isn’t too far from him. So, after a few weeks of studiously noting down her schedule, he takes Gaeul on a walk.
He’s learned his lesson, and pushes his greed aside. He imagines himself holding her soft hand as they both walk together, and he knows that she will see that he’s special . That he’s different from all those other pests who pretend to be her fans.
As he walks down the street, he thinks he sees her in the distance. He can’t help the lovesick smile that takes over his face as he quickens his strides, Gaeul struggling to keep up but barking in joy.
Focused as he is on the girl’s long, black hair, he doesn’t notice anyone in front of him until he bumps into them. When he goes to apologise, a big hand firmly grasps his wrist. He looks up to see piercing eyes forming into crescents over a black mask.
“Well, what’s a pretty boy like you doing over here?” asks Ni-ki.