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“Hyung, I beat you,” Gyuvin shouts, his voice slurring slightly, laughter bubbling up as he leans against the hotel hallway wall, victorious. He’s loud when he drinks—too loud for a hotel corridor—and even louder when Hanbin is there to witness it. Especially because they always get like this when they room together. It’s an unspoken rule that they’re a little unbearable as roommates. -Well everyone except them kinda hates it.- Now they’re drunk, and Gyuvin is the first to reach the door, card in hand, smug and mischievous.
“But you haven’t gone inside yet. We said first one in wins,” Hanbin laughs, stealing the moment as he scans his own card and pushes the door open, disappearing into the room before Gyuvin can react.
Gyuvin lets out a soft, exaggerated groan in protest, but it doesn’t last—Hanbin’s hand is already reaching back for his, pulling him inside with a warm, easy grip.
“See? You win. Now stop whining,” Hanbin says as they both stumble through the doorway, barely keeping their balance.
They’re half-falling, half-laughing, breathless. Gyuvin nearly collapses into him, arms brushing, weight leaning.
“You’re a good hyung,” Gyuvin mumbles, then lets himself drop dramatically onto the bed with a sigh.
Hanbin just stands there for a second, staring at him, and then he laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t you dare fall asleep in those clothes.”
“That’s still what you’re thinking about?”
“You need to change.”
“Then you are going to help me. I’m lazy and I’m also very drunk.”
Hanbin rolls his eyes to this. This boy is lost cause.
Gyuvin sits up slowly and walks toward him, hazy-eyed, just as Hanbin sinks into the chair by the window, loosening his jacket, distracted. Hanbin doesn’t expect Gyuvin to come that close so fast, and suddenly his focus shifts—Gyuvin’s hands brushing his sleeve, presence warm and too much.
“You’re such a baby,” Hanbin mutters, starting to help him out of his jacket.
“I’m your baby, aren’t I?” Gyuvin says it with a grin, his voice thick from the alcohol, but layered beneath the playfulness—something heavier, something waiting.
“You are.”
“Say it more.” Gyuvin stops Hanbin’s hands as they reach for the hem of his shirt, fingers curling around his wrists like he doesn’t want the moment to pass too quickly. “Say that I’m yours.”
“You’re unbearable when you’re drunk,” Hanbin mutters, but he doesn’t pull away.
“And you get so pretty when you’re drunk,” Gyuvin breathes, hands now cupping Hanbin’s face, pressing warm palms to flushed cheeks. Despite the alcohol in his veins, Hanbin knows he is still blushing.
“Come on, don’t drag this out—”
“If I kissed you right now, would you stop me?”
Hanbin exhales, shaky. “Gyuvin—”
But Gyuvin doesn’t wait. He closes the distance fast, like he’s been holding back all night and just finally got permission to give in. The kiss is deep from the start—none of that tentative brushing or testing boundaries. It’s tongue and teeth and breath all tangled, as if Gyuvin’s trying to taste every inch of his mouth, as if he wants to own it.
Hanbin’s hands instinctively grab onto Gyuvin’s biceps, trying to steady himself, but it’s no use. Gyuvin is everywhere—knees planted on either side of his thighs, one hand gripping his jaw, tilting his head exactly how he wants it, the other already sliding under his shirt, palm flat against his stomach.
The contact makes Hanbin whimper into his mouth, his hips jerking up unintentionally.
“You like being kissed like that?” Gyuvin mutters against his lips, voice already low and hoarse. “Messy like this?”
Hanbin nods, barely managing a breathy, “Yeah…”
But Gyuvin pulls back just enough to grab his chin, forcing his face upward. “Use your words.”
“Yes. I— I like it.”
“You like being touched like this too?” Gyuvin’s hand slides further up, brushing over Hanbin’s ribs, the sides of his chest, dragging his shirt with it as he does. “You get so sensitive. You always act so put together, but you melt when I get on top of you like this.”
Hanbin groans, embarrassed, turning his face away, but Gyuvin doesn’t let him go far. He kisses along his cheekbone, down to his ear, lips hot and sticky against his skin.
“I like seeing you like this,” he whispers. “My pretty hyung. All soft and sweet just for me. I bet you start to cry soon,”
Hanbin makes another helpless sound, his hands now curled into the back of Gyuvin’s shirt, not even trying to push him away—just holding on.
Gyuvin grinds down again, slow but hard this time, letting their hips align properly. Hanbin gasps, back arching off the chair slightly, thighs squeezing around Gyuvin’s waist.
“You feel that?” Gyuvin breathes, kissing the corner of his mouth again. “You make me so hard.”
Hanbin’s only response is a weak nod and another moan, his body giving himself away before he can even speak.
Gyuvin chuckles, low and pleased. “God, you’re so hot like this.”
He starts kissing again, deeper and hungrier this time, as if he’s trying to devour the sounds Hanbin keeps making. His hand drops from Hanbin’s shirt and unbuttons the first two buttons on his jeans, then the next two, deliberately slow, watching Hanbin’s face the entire time.
“You’re not gonna stop me, right?” Gyuvin murmurs, lips brushing against Hanbin’s neck, tongue flicking against the skin just above his collarbone. “You want this too bad to stop me.”
Hanbin exhales, trembling. “Don’t stop…”
“Hm? What was that,” Gyuvin teases because he needs every words of Hanbin’s.
”Just-Dont stop,” Hanbin moans and Gyuvin already slides hand into the waistband of Hanbin’s underwear, fingers wrapping around him, slow and possessive.
Hanbin’s head drops back against the chair with a thud, lips parted, chest rising and falling rapidly.
“You’re so hard already,” Gyuvin says like he’s amused, like he’s proud of it. “Guess it’s my effect?”
He strokes him, slow at first, using just enough pressure to make Hanbin shake. At the same time, he leans in again, mouths at his neck, bites softly at the sensitive skin there, then soothes it with his tongue.
Hanbin can’t hold back anymore—he starts rocking his hips into Gyuvin’s hand, chasing friction like needy man he is under Gyuvin.
“Fuck, you’re needy,” Gyuvin mutters against his skin. “I didn’t know you’d be like this.”
“I’m— I can’t—” Hanbin’s sentence breaks off into a moan when Gyuvin squeezes just a little tighter.
“Yeah, you can,” Gyuvin says. “Just let me take care of it.”
He kisses him again, this time slower, but no less intense. His tongue moves deeper, claiming, controlling, while his hand keeps working between them, finding every rhythm that makes Hanbin twitch and gasp and beg without words.
“Hyung,” Gyuvin breathes against his lips. “You’re so fucking cute. You know that?”
Hanbin doesn’t answer. He can’t. He just clutches harder at Gyuvin’s back, his whole body shaking as he gets closer.
“No one else gets to see you like this, right?” Gyuvin asks, his voice darker now, possessive. “You only act like this for me. Am I the only one who gets you like this?”
“Yes,” Hanbin whispers, breathless and broken. “Fuck, Gyuvin. It’s you.”
“My pretty baby,” Gyuvin groans, rolling his hips down again, grinding harder against him. “Say it again.”
“Yours. I’m yours.”
“Fuck, I love hearing you say that.”
Gyuvin’s hand speeds up, just a little, just enough.
“I want you to come for me like this,” he murmurs, lips brushing Hanbin’s ear. “All over my hand. Let go, my pretty baby. Come on. Let me feel it.”
Hanbin’s breath stutters, and then he breaks, hips jerking forward uncontrollably as he comes in Gyuvin’s hand, biting down on his lip to muffle the moan but failing. His body goes limp after, sinking back into the chair, chest heaving.
Gyuvin leans in, kisses his temple, then his cheek, then finally his lips again, this time slow, sweet, steady.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
Hanbin nods, eyes barely open. “Yeah. That was…”
Gyuvin grins, proud and gentle at once. “I know.”
Gyuvin wipes his hand on the blanket behind them without ceremony, then leans in, presses one last kiss to Hanbin’s cheek, his lips still curved from smiling.
Hanbin’s eyes are barely open, lashes fluttering, chest still rising and falling like he hasn’t caught his breath. His pants are undone, his shirt is rucked halfway up his chest, and his entire body feels warm and numb in the aftermath.
Gyuvin leans back just a little, surveying him with this lazy, satisfied expression, fingers still resting against Hanbin’s jaw.
“You were the one telling me I had to change out of my clothes,” he says, voice smug, still a little breathless. “And now look at the mess you let me make.”
Hanbin groans softly, turning his face away in embarrassment, but Gyuvin just laughs under his breath, already tugging him closer again.
“Guess I’ll help you change after all.”