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The Question Game

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The cameras never picked up everything. They never recorded when all the boys joked around together; that wasn’t interesting. Wasn’t dramatic. And while Hyunwoo will remember No.Mercy as one of the toughest times of his life, it was also a wonderful time. Because he got to learn, and become a leader, and meet amazing people.

It was with these amazing people that Hyunwoo would play mindless, perhaps immature games every night—another thing the cameras didn’t care about. When the boys should have been sleeping, they were huddled in a circle, laughing until their stomachs hurt.

Hyungwon was the one who suggested the Question Game. It was Truth or Dare, without the Dare. But what started as a good icebreaker activity quickly spiraled into a messy arsenal of blackmail material. The worst part was that none of them were ever drunk.

“Hyunwoo,” Hoseok would get this wicked twinkle in his eye, “Who would you pick if you had to fuck a bro?”

With Hoseok, loaded questions were expected. Hyunwoo was left to answer, ‘Which one of us would you fuck?’

And it didn’t take much encouragement or hesitation for Hyunwoo to settle on the safe answer: “Minhyuk.” Because Minhyuk never got mad, or offended, and always laughed everything off. He even rewarded Hyunwoo with a loud high-five and a, ‘Thanks, man!’

 


 

Hyunwoo still thinks about this, three whole years later. If that’s not the origin story, then Hyunwoo isn’t sure what is.

(There are actually a lot of possibilities. The time he and Minhyuk decided to shower together out of convenience, the time Minhyuk gave him cheek-kisses on all twelve days of Christmas, the time Minhyuk asked to bite his abs because he wanted to know how they tasted.)

Hyunwoo isn’t sure how it started, and he isn’t sure why, but somehow everyone is aware that Hyunwoo has sexual fantasies about Lee Minhyuk. Frequently.

He thinks about Minhyuk in the best and worst ways, thinks about how his lean body would feel in Hyunwoo’s arms, how that rough voice would sound in his ear. Over the past three years (the longest and most painful three years he knows), Hyunwoo has vividly imagined every part of Minhyuk’s body. His mind has produced countless scenarios, countless dirty dreams, and at some point, Hyunwoo stopped feeling guilty about it.

The first one to find out is Changkyun.

In his free time, Changkyun likes to invent stupid what-ifs that waste everyone’s time. For some reason, either Hyunwoo or Kihyun is always on the receiving end of these what-ifs. Today, it’s Hyunwoo.

“What if you woke up one morning handcuffed to Jooheon forever? Wouldn’t that be hell?” Changkyun stares into his cereal with empty eyes. Hyunwoo wonders what Jooheon did this time to annoy Changkyun. Probably nothing; the boy gets pissy in the mornings.

Hyunwoo mulls it over for a moment. “Maybe.”

“Minhyuk would be bad, too,” Changkyun muses, “Those two are always talking.”

That’s a far more accurate comparison. Being handcuffed to Lee Minhyuk sounds like hell on earth. Hyunwoo feels on-edge every time they’re together; any extended period of time attached to him would be sweet torture. Having his scent so close would be maddening. Hyunwoo can’t help but play around with the idea in his mind. Minhyuk’s knuckles brushing his in the smallest of tasks because they’re linked together, following Minhyuk everywhere he goes—

“Imagine using the toilet while handcuffed to another dude. Good thing we’ve all seen each other’s dicks, right?”

Hyunwoo’s brain short-circuits for half a second—just enough time for him to say something idiotic: “Handcuffed to Minhyuk… It doesn’t sound that bad after all.”

When his head snaps back in, there’s milk dribbling down Changkyun’s chin. “Holy fuck.” He isn’t sure what, but something just clicked for Changkyun.

“Hey,” Hyunwoo points a spoon at him, trying desperately not to make too embarrassed of a face, “Don’t use that language.”

Changkyun starts laughing. That’s never a good sign, and this time it’s a particularly bad omen. Because Hyunwoo slipped up. When a secret gets around to Changkyun, it never stays a secret for long. Hyunwoo can only hope it doesn’t reach Hyungwon’s ears—then he’d really be in trouble. And Changkyun doesn’t know the whole truth of it, but it’s only a matter of time before Minhyuk finds out about his guilty fixation. The only question is, who he’ll find out from.

 


 

“What do you think about Minhyuk’s ass?”

The question comes out of the blue, but since it’s from Hyungwon, everything’s out of the blue.

“What?”

“You heard me,” Hyungwon says, and yes, Hyunwoo definitely had, “Minhyuk’s ass.”

Hyunwoo blinks. “Why are you asking?”

“Because Kihyun says I’m not a real visual since Minhyuk allegedly has a better ass than me. So I want to hear what you think.”

This is why Hyunwoo hates it when Kihyun stirs the pot. “Well, it’s a matter of opinion—”

“So? What’s your opinion?”

The last thing he wants is for Hyungwon to know his opinion. Without taking Hyungwon’s ‘visual rivalry’ into account, Minhyuk’s ass is perfect. Not too round, not too flat, and just perky enough that it would fit wonderfully into Hyunwoo’s palms.

“Maybe I’m a bit biased,” Hyunwoo says.

“Toward me? Because I’m your roommate, right?”

Slowly, Hyunwoo shakes his head. “You know I’ve always found Minhyuk…”

“Sexy?” Hyungwon tries.

Yes. Definitely sexy. But it’s more than that; Minhyuk is seductive in that quirky way of his, and Hyunwoo has no idea why he’s so attracted. He says, “No. Not exactly. I don’t know.”

“Well I’m not here to judge your man-crush on Minhyuk. Just picture us both in like, leather pants, and tell me who would look hotter.”

“Minhyuk.” Hyunwoo didn’t mean to answer so quickly.

Hyungwon throws his hands up in the air with a dejected groan. “Fine! If Kihyun asks, say we never had this conversation. Do you think Hoseok is more likely to say I have a better ass, or Jooheon?”

That’s when Hyunwoo zones out.

 


 

It happens probably twice a week, that Hyunwoo comes apart from thoughts of Minhyuk. They’re all busy, and have almost no time to jerk off, but outside of promotion periods, Hyunwoo makes time. He’s accidentally conditioned himself to get excited just by thinking about Minhyuk. Hyunwoo does it in the shower most times, worked down to a science where he can get off in five minutes and the other guys don’t even complain about wasted water.

Usually what does it is imagining sex with Minhyuk. In the shower. Pressing him against the tile, fucking him on the shower wall with water flowing between their bodies. And washing each other’s hair after.

Hyunwoo thinks of all this while he strokes himself. Minhyuk’s hands are smaller than his. He wonders how they would feel wrapped around him—if they could close all the way into a fist, if Minhyuk would use light strokes or rough jerks, if he’d take things slow or fast. Hyunwoo knows he’ll never find out. He just ignores it.

And that’s why it takes Hyunwoo just five minutes to come. Maybe less.

 


 

Music shows are taxing every time, not because they have to perform, but because of everything happening before the show even starts. The makeup, the interviews, greeting every other group—it takes so much time.

And the waiting. Hyunwoo’s a patient man—far more patient than most—but even he has problems with the waiting. It’s all just sitting around for hours in a bare-bones room, staff breathing down their necks.

He usually sleeps to burn time, or stares at the monitor, and it works. But the other members aren’t as patient as him.

Music shows typically see Hoseok giving piggyback rides to anyone who asks, while Jooheon and Changkyun dance along to any girl group that comes on the monitor. Hyungwon is the best with pre-shows; he has falling asleep down to a science. Kihyun floats from task to task, and Hyunwoo watches all of this go down from his stationary spot on the bench.

When they’re five performances away, Hyunwoo inspects himself in the mirror, straightens his appearance. His hair’s a bit messy from resting against the wall for hours. The mirror is slim, barely wide enough to fit the span of Hyunwoo’s shoulders in its frame, but Minhyuk hops over and tries to squeeze in anyway. He strikes a pose, and Hyunwoo stops preening himself to watch Minhyuk. Beautiful. It’s dramatic in the way Minhyuk always is, posing in the mirror like they’re at a photoshoot, and he somehow ropes Hyunwoo into it.

Minhyuk leans against him in chic poses, obviously happy with the stylists’ work today. Hyunwoo is, too—a white blazer that matches Minhyuk’s bright hair, slacks that frame his ass perfectly. How could Hyungwon ever think his ass compares?

“Hey, we look hot together!” Minhyuk’s voice brings him back to reality, like it always does. And Hyunwoo looks in the mirror; side by side, all dressed up and powdered, Minhyuk is right. They look fantastic. Minhyuk’s paleness brings out the gold in Hyunwoo’s skin, and Hyunwoo’s bulky frame shows off the sharp edges of Minhyuk’s body. It’s frustrating, how good they look together.

“Yeah.”

 


 

“Remember No.Mercy, when we played that stupid Question Game?” Kihyun asks one day.

Hyungwon glares at him. “Hey, it wasn’t stupid. I created that game.”

“Case in point.”

Changkyun thankfully cuts in before Hyungwon can get aggressive. “What question game?”

That’s right, Hyunwoo remembers, they never played with Changkyun. The other six men exchange devious looks, and Jooheon decides, “Alright, we’re totally gonna play it now.”

They sit on the floor of the practice room in a wobbly circle. The Question Game seems pointless now; they should know everything about each other. So they go for funny questions: “What’s the dumbest thing you did as a child?” “What are all the tabs you have open on your phone right now?” “Is it true you only wear underwear three days a week, Changkyun? Because Kihyun thinks you do.”

But Hoseok, for all the innocence in him, has always been the one to turn things sexual. “Mr. Son Hyunwoo,” Something tells Hyunwoo this is going to end badly, “Who in the room would you pick to screw and in what position?”

Five people in the room already know half the answer. And unsurprisingly, this is a question Hyunwoo has poured hours of thought into. Of course the person is Minhyuk, it’s always been Minhyuk, but the position? Out of all the fantasies Hyunwoo has had, he’s insanely curious about what it would feel like if Minhyuk rode him. He’d be straddling Hyunwoo with those toned thighs, and Hyunwoo would be able to see his face, that beautiful face that would contort in pleasure as Hyunwoo gripped his hips and—

“Different question.” Hyunwoo blinked, to avoid showing any emotion.

“Nope, that’s the rules,” In the Question Game, a player must answer the question or the game stops completely. Once, they paused it for three days because Kihyun didn’t want to reveal his biggest kink. Hoseok is ruthless, “You have to answer. And if you don’t want to tell the group, then whisper it to me. ‘Cause now I really wanna know.”

He could lie. He could say something to rile Hoseok up, like, ‘I’d do Hyungwon doggy-style,’ but they’d both know it’s a lie. So Hyunwoo leans close to Hoseok’s ear and whispers, in a roundabout way with lots of stuttering, that he’d have Minhyuk ride him. And Hoseok says nothing; he just smiles in the most devious way. The game moves on after that, but a sinking feeling stays in Hyunwoo’s stomach that he can’t ignore.

 


 

Hyunwoo must be getting old. Because lately his patience has been wearing thin. Every move Minhyuk makes, every word he says, is so insanely attractive that Hyunwoo tries not to jump him right there.

It’s remarkable that Minhyuk hasn’t noticed. He has to have noticed; Hyunwoo sometimes thinks the man’s actions can’t be unintentional. Like when he slides his hand down Hyunwoo’s arm sometimes while making eye contact—he has to know what that does. Because every day, Hyunwoo is being driven to insanity and Minhyuk looks like he’s having the time of his life.

“Whatcha watching?”

Today, unfortunately, is no different; as usual, Minhyuk disregards Hyunwoo’s privacy and practically skips into his room.

Hyunwoo is on his phone, watching a basketball game. It kills time. He doesn’t mention the fancams from ten minutes earlier. “Just the game.”

Minhyuk rolls his eyes. “You know I don’t keep up on the sporty world.” Still, he goes to the edge of the bed and lies next to Hyunwoo, resting his head on Hyunwoo’s shoulder like there’s not a pillow behind them.

Minhyuk’s affection is such a fragile part of Hyunwoo’s life; of course he wants Minhyuk to be comfortable with him, but Minhyuk gives out hugs and flirty praises until they don’t mean much anymore.

He asks, “So what are the other guys doing?” in a quiet voice, just for Minhyuk.

“They hooked Overwatch up to the TV,” Minhyuk says, “I’m supposed to ask if you want to join, but your bed’s too comfortable. I’m never leaving.”

Minhyuk is too close to him. Hyunwoo can feel his heat, smell him. He needs Minhyuk to leave, or else Hyunwoo’s brain will get screwed up like it always does. “You like video games more than basketball,” Hyunwoo says, “And they’ll be missing you in a few minutes.”

“Don’t care,” Minhyuk just cozies himself farther into Hyunwoo’s arm, “Number 41’s pretty cute.”

He’s right. A little on the thicker side for Hyunwoo, but hadn’t Minhyuk said he liked stockier builds? “I guess.”

Then Hyunwoo realizes what he’s implying, but says nothing more. Two minutes pass—Hyunwoo can feel every second—and Minhyuk opens his mouth. “I heard you picked me.”

“Hm?”

“If you had to bang one of us.”

That was days ago. He’d nearly forgotten about it, but suddenly Hyunwoo’s skin is fuzzy, every part of him that touches Minhyuk set into a sweat. “I did. Don’t think too much about it.”

Minhyuk tilts his head up. His nose brushes Hyunwoo’s chin as he smiles, “Too late. That’s all I’ve been doing, is thinking about it.”

Hyunwoo swallows, and he’s sure Minhyuk felt that against his lips.

With one hand, Minhyuk takes Hyunwoo’s phones and tips it upside-down. “Minhyuk?” Hyunwoo doesn’t get a response, of any understanding of what Minhyuk’s doing. Slowly, Minhyuk shifts his leg over Hyunwoo’s body. He’s done this before, always the cuddler, but it feels different this time. More intentional. And Minhyuk continues until all his weight is sprawled over Hyunwoo like a blanket.

Hyunwoo isn’t complaining; he could always go for some friendly cuddling with Minhyuk. But as he brings his arms up around Minhyuk’s waist, ‘friendly cuddling’ seems to be the last thing Minhyuk has in mind. The next moment, Minhyuk is sat upright, straddling Hyunwoo with his ass strategically above Hyunwoo’s crotch. “Hoseok also mentioned that you’d have me ride you.”

Hyunwoo takes it in: Minhyuk sitting in his lap while he’s lying down, and he’s never seen Minhyuk from this angle before. It might be the best angle. “Hoseok sounds like a dead man.”

“You’re just lucky Hyungwon didn’t find out, then the whole world would know. Friends tell friends everything,” comes Minhyuk’s flawed logic. “Speaking of which, how long have you kept this from me?”

“‘This?’”

“That you want me to ride you.”

He gulps. “I never said that—it was a hypothetical question for a game. If I had to pick.”

Minhyuk adjusts himself the tiniest bit, but that’s all it takes for Hyunwoo’s imagination to go wild. “What a shame. I was looking forward to it.”

This side of Minhyuk is new. They all try to keep to themselves when it comes to the realm of sex. So Hyunwoo has never seen his pupils dilated like this, never heard his voice so quiet and shaking before.

“Were you?” Hyunwoo relaxes underneath Minhyuk’s weight. It can’t hurt to tease him back, just a little.

Then Minhyuk starts laughing. Sharp, loud, chuckles that teeter on panicked. “Shit, this is weird,” he says, “I don’t want things to be weird with us.” But considering Minhyuk’s ass is still against his hips, Hyunwoo thinks they’re off to a bad start.

He tries to backtrack, pats the bit of sheet next to him and Minhyuk gets the hint, swinging his leg back over Hyunwoo to lie beside him. Hyunwoo is still excited—he can’t get the heat out of his veins—but it’s his job to make sure everyone is on the same page. He thinks that applies here, too. “Then tell me what’s on your mind and I’ll tell you what’s on mine.”

The air between them is no less charged than a few moments ago, but now it’s laced with a kind of severity Hyunwoo can’t ignore. He takes a deep breath, collecting all the words he’s kept from Minhyuk for so long. “I can go first. You’re one of my closest friends, Minhyuk; you should know that. But sometimes—this is embarrassing—sometimes I think of you different than that.”

Hyunwoo isn’t good at this. Isn’t good at talking things out, or admitting his feelings, or dealing with emotions for other people. Right now, Minhyuk is turned toward him, every bit of attention on Hyunwoo. “I think like that, too.” That surprises Hyunwoo; usually, their thoughts are so different from each other. “I shouldn’t, I know, but what can I say,” he turns his head away from Hyunwoo, up toward the ceiling, “you’re my type.”

Hyunwoo swallows. “I get it. We all have needs. And I’m just saying—” he really wishes he were better at things like this—“It’s okay if you need something. Just let me know.”

A grin spreads across Minhyuk’s face and the next moment, he’s settled back on Hyunwoo’s lap. They don’t say anything, just engage in a silent routine where Hyunwoo dares to fit his palms along the curve of Minhyuk’s hips. And Minhyuk dips down, runs his fingertips over Hyunwoo’s chest and looks up at him through his lashes—

Bang, bang. “Minhyuk, are you playing or not?” Hyungwon’s voice through the wall causes Minhyuk to tense up, “We’re waiting on you, man.”

Taking one last look at the body above him, Hyunwoo understands it’s better to suppress his desires for longer. “You should go,” he tells Minhyuk in a soft voice.

He doesn’t know if it’s intentional, the way Minhyuk’s hands drag down his chest as he slides from above Hyunwoo. “We’ll talk about this later, right?”

Hyunwoo relaxes against the headboard once more, which is far easier when he doesn’t have the warm weight of a man pressing into him. “We’ll talk. Now go have fun.”

 


 

Neither of them made the definition of ‘later’ explicit, but Hyunwoo is sure Minhyuk meant sooner than two weeks. So how have they not talked yet?

For fourteen entire days, things are different. Although Minhyuk and Hyunwoo don’t avoid each other, Hyunwoo is careful to put more distance between them than he typically would. He dodges Minhyuk’s eyes when they’re in a group, and it’s hard to keep his voice steady when he addresses Minhyuk directly. Because now that he’s had a taste of Minhyuk, dipped his toes into dangerous waters, Hyunwoo is more tempted than ever to do something he shouldn’t. He wonders if Minhyuk can also feel the odd tension between them that never existed until two weeks ago.

Even if Minhyuk doesn’t notice, Kihyun does. He confronts Hyunwoo late at night, when they’re the only two awake. “What’s going on with you and Minhyuk?”

“Me and Minhyuk?”

Kihyun rolls his eyes, “Come on, are you mad at him or something? You look at him like you’re angry, like you want to eat him alive.” Hyunwoo does want to, but not in an angry way. “It’s Minhyuk; what could he have possibly done? You guys have never had any issues before.” That’s because I went from wanting to fuck him from afar, to wanting to fuck him when he was on top of my crotch.

Hyunwoo sighs, “I’ll be honest, I’ve been… at odds with Minhyuk lately. But I’m not mad at him, don’t worry. We’re just…miscommunicating.” That’s putting it lightly.

“Well whatever you’re doing, fix it,” It doesn’t come as a suggestion; Kihyun stares Hyunwoo down with his most intimidating expression and Hyunwoo knows his time has run out. He can’t avoid speaking to Minhyuk for any longer.

But he can try—Hyunwoo hovers near Hoseok’s side for the rest of the day, the other man unsuspecting that he’s a scapegoat. He makes it until sunset before Hoseok decides to hit the gym and Minhyuk has him cornered in the kitchen.

“Did Kihyun talk to you, too?” Hyunwoo asks.

“No, but Changkyun did.” Who knew they’d been conspired against, that this little patch of awkwardness had affected the group so much?

Hyunwoo gets up, and Minhyuk follows him to his room like he knew exactly where Hyunwoo would go. They sit next to each other on Hyunwoo’s bed, and his mind immediately jumps back to the last time they were here, two weeks ago. “Alright, let's talk.”

This is the ‘later.’ The moment they both put off for two weeks of unbearable sexual tension, only to unfold where it started, on Hyunwoo’s bed. “I missed you,” Minhyuk says, glancing down at his knees, “I don’t like not talking to you.”

Hyunwoo’s hand hesitates to find the space between Minhyuk’s shoulders, rubbing comforting circles into his back. “Me too.”

Instantly, Minhyuk’s mood perks up. He turns until he’s facing Hyunwoo, pushing his weight onto Hyunwoo’s chest. “You okay?” Hyunwoo can’t resist from this angle; he keeps tipping back and his head hits the pillow.

“Picking up where we left off,” comes Minhyuk’s devious answer, and Hyunwoo swears he’s dreaming when Minhyuk’s leg swings over his body.

“Woah, Minhyuk—” It’s not that Hyunwoo doesn’t want this, it’s just… “We have to be on the same page here.”

Minhyuk gives him an impatient look. “We’re both sexually frustrated men who are attracted to each other in some way. I think we’re on the same page.”

Well, then. For Hyunwoo, it’s near impossible to believe Minhyuk would ever reciprocate any kind of feelings for him, let alone something so risky. If they hook up and the media finds out, they won’t be the only ones with tanked careers. But Minhyuk is smart; he understands what opportunity costs are, and he’s clever enough to finesse any setup he wants.

And when Hyunwoo thinks about all of this, in a brief moment of understanding, how could he have denied Minhyuk from the start?

Hyunwoo slips his hands down to Minhyuk’s hips, holding him so the man has no doubt about what he wants. He’s still nervous—maybe Minhyuk is, too—but it’s nice to touch him like this. Have him right where he’s always imagined Minhyuk would look best, push light pressure into Minhyuk’s thighs with his thumbs.

“Hyunwoo,” He looks up when Minhyuk says his name, and then his face is being cupped in Minhyuk’s palms. The man leans in, kisses Hyunwoo quick and hot on the mouth. “That was easy, wasn’t it?”

It was. Far too easy; Hyunwoo’s been watching Minhyuk from afar all this time, and having him here, straddling Hyunwoo, ready to do anything with him—it’s odd. Both of them start laughing. They’ve never kissed before, and the feeling is new. Even though Hyunwoo has been thinking about this man for a long time, they’re still friends. And between them sits a childhood giddiness that ends when Minhyuk’s hands travel down to tug on Hyunwoo’s thin T-shirt. “Alright?” The wide grin can’t hide Minhyuk’s red face.

Hyunwoo nods, and shivers a bit when the sensation of Minhyuk’s cool hands find the skin of his stomach. This is them deciding to go further, and Hyunwoo’s logical side knows they shouldn’t, but it’s good to be selfish once in a while.

The space between their bodies is insanely hot, and Minhyuk must feel it, too—he sits back, and begins taking his own clothes off. Hyunwoo’s never been to a strip club, but this has to be better. His shirt goes first, revealing the firm stomach and milky skin Hyunwoo has come to know over the years. He’s seen Minhyuk naked before—they’ve all seen each other naked before, it’s unavoidable—but his body looks different when it’s curved in arousal like this. Irresistible. The pants are next, and Minhyuk definitely makes a show of letting his legs fall apart once they’re bare. The front of his tight blue boxers is tented.

Hyunwoo wants him to take it all off, but Minhyuk crawls back and appraises Hyunwoo with wild excitement filling his eyes. “Come on, your turn.”

All his best fantasies involve both of them naked, but Hyunwoo finds himself embarrassed. He can feel every nuance of Minhyuk’s gaze on him, fully clothed as he is, and the man bites his lip when Hyunwoo finishes what Minhyuk started in stripping off his shirt—who knew Minhyuk had this voyeuristic side? Hyunwoo sheds his clothes anyway. The shirt is easy, but as Hyunwoo peels his sweats from his legs he becomes nervous. He never realized how much he trusted Minhyuk until now; of course they trust each other, but Hyunwoo knows how deep-seated the feeling is when they’re both sitting in their underwear.

Almost without thinking, Hyunwoo draws Minhyuk back in for another kiss, sweet and firm. One kiss turns into a series, where each press of Minhyuk’s lips melt together in a way that’s hard to count anymore. Minhyuk is a fantastic kisser, knowing just when to shift from gentle to biting and messy.

He’s completely on autopilot now, pulling away from Minhyuk’s perfect mouth to give his throat some attention. Hyunwoo kisses down Minhyuk’s neck, sloppily sucking at areas where he can feel Minhyuk shiver under his lips. Slender hands tug at Hyunwoo’s hair, and he gets the message: Don’t leave a mark where someone could see. Hyunwoo trades rough pressure for softer contact, as tempting as it is to make purple bruises bloom up and down Minhyuk’s throat.

The atmosphere between them is so electric that Hyunwoo hardly notices the awkward angle of their bodies, the never-being-close-enough. And just when the angle becomes uncomfortable, Minhyuk pulls Hyunwoo’s head back up and leans forward, his gravity pushing Hyunwoo down on the mattress so Minhyuk can hover over him. The man’s legs fit on either side of Hyunwoo’s thighs—it’s easier, now, to completely surround himself with everything Minhyuk.

In this position, Hyunwoo decides he likes the feeling of Minhyuk on top of him. It’s exhilarating, how each curve of Minhyuk’s stomach can brush against his own skin, how warm Minhyuk is. His fantasies never manifested that human quality of breath and scent and reaction. And this is so real that Hyunwoo hardly knows what to do.

There goes Minhyuk’s hand, wandering down to cup Hyunwoo through his boxers. “Is this okay?” He looks directly into Hyunwoo’s eyes.

Hyunwoo decides to help him; he inches down where Minhyuk’s hands won’t dare to go and lets his cock peek past the elastic waistband. If Minhyuk had any doubt Hyunwoo was interested, he knows now. There’s a clumsy moment where neither of them can figure out how to get Hyunwoo’s boxers down his legs, but after that passes they return to heated exploration.

Minhyuk shifts back, fingers joining Hyunwoo’s around the shaft. He’s in control, and Hyunwoo imagined that’s how things would be with Minhyuk. He slowly strokes Hyunwoo like it’s somehow sacred, a look of awe on his face. “You have a very nice dick.”

Hyunwoo doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he says, “Thanks.”

Minhyuk is smiling; they both know he likes teasing Hyunwoo, getting under his skin. The man’s fingers brush the skin underneath his navel, sometimes trailing down to barely skim the base of his cock. Torture.

“If you aren’t gonna do anything, then come here,” Hyunwoo reaches forward to tug at Minhyuk’s hips until he’s seated on Hyunwoo’s lap again. It’s exciting, how easily he can handle Minhyuk.

“Whatever you want,” Minhyuk grinds down against Hyunwoo’s bare crotch in the most sinful way, only a single ply of cotton resting between Hyunwoo and Minhyuk’s ass. So hot.

The moan that Hyunwoo tries so hard to stifle is choked out of him in his painfully hard state. Only Minhyuk can make him like this—turn Hyunwoo into some assertive, sexual creature. “Min,” he catches Minhyuk’s hips and hooks his thumbs on the man’s boxer waistband, “Take it off. Please.”

And Minhyuk does, lifting his hips up to slowly slip his boxers down, and Hyunwoo’s mouth nearly waters when Minhyuk’s pink cock comes into view. Minhyuk moves away just for a moment, just to fully discard his underwear, but he goes back to straddling Hyunwoo immediately after.

It should be weird, or awkward, to be nude and pressed against one of his closest friends. But Hyunwoo is excited; every part of him craves Minhyuk and no one else. And the look in Minhyuk’s eyes is mesmerizing, how fixated he is on the space between them and the places they touch. He seems captivated by the intimacy, and Hyunwoo is, too.

Minhyuk is on autopilot, his hand reaching for his own dick so naturally, pumping it a few times. And then he sees the way Hyunwoo is reclined, perfectly happy with this view of Minhyuk, and he asks, “Having fun watching down there?”

It’s impossible to deny, so Hyunwoo doesn’t. Instead, he touches the slight curve of Minhyuk’s hip, encouraging him silently. Minhyuk absorbs the attention, one hand on his cock and the other light against Hyunwoo’s arm.

Minhyuk seems to remember something then, and without moving from Hyunwoo’s lap, feels around the bed for his discarded jeans. And from the back pocket, he pulls out a condom and a small bottle of lube. “Safe sex is good sex.”

Hyunwoo doesn’t know where he got them, and he doesn’t know how with managers always watching, but he’s glad. If anything, it shows Minhyuk wants this just as much as he does. “You came prepared.”

Minhyuk shrugs, but he’s grinning. Slim fingers uncap the lube bottle and Hyunwoo can only stare as Minhyuk deliberately slicks up his fingers. “You’ve got a front-row seat,” Minhyuk’s smile is beautiful. Hyunwoo keeps watching, mind caught up in how Minhyuk reaches behind himself. He knows what Minhyuk is doing, has imagined Minhyuk in this position before, and it breaks the line of what Hyunwoo can watch and what he needs to take part in. His fingers are thicker than Minhyuk’s—will he like that?

There’s no trace of pain on Minhyuk’s face, but that changes when Hyunwoo reaches to join Minhyuk’s finger in his ass. Minhyuk hisses at the stretch and Hyunwoo takes it slow, sliding his finger in and out between the man’s legs. “You’re okay, Min, I’ve got you.”

“No, it’s good,” Minhyuk assures him, pulling his own finger out so Hyunwoo has room for two, “Doesn’t hurt.”

Even just around his two fingers, Minhyuk is tight. Hyunwoo works him open, careful not to be too fast, and when he thinks Minhyuk is ready for a third, Minhyuk takes it so well. He lets out little noises each time Hyunwoo scissors his fingers even a bit, and Hyunwoo plants soft kisses to his shoulder for each one.

Minhyuk only takes a minute or so to relax completely, rocking back on Hyunwoo’s fingers like he wants more. “I think I’m ready,” Minhyuk cups his jaw for a kiss and says, “Still not too late to back out.”

“I’m not backing out,” Hyunwoo assures him, carefully lifting Minhyuk’s hips so he’s directly above Hyunwoo’s dick. He doesn’t dare to push in until he has Minhyuk’s permission and a condom, but Hyunwoo loves the feeling of his cock sliding against Minhyuk’s ass.

He’s aware of that shiny packet in the corner of his vision, especially as Minhyuk reaches for it and tears the wrapping open. “I want to do it,” he sounds determined, and Hyunwoo isn’t about to protest. His soft eyes follow Minhyuk’s every movement, from carefully taking the condom out to rolling it over Hyunwoo’s cock. The man sits back, obviously pleased with his handiwork, “Now I’m ready.”

Above him, Minhyuk grins wildly, twisting himself to get as close as possible to Hyunwoo. This alone is enough to get Hyunwoo off—it’s like a game, where every time Minhyuk fits Hyunwoo’s dick so it presses dangerously close to his entrance, Hyunwoo pushes him back and takes in Minhyuk’s groan. “You’re sure about this?”

Reaching behind him, Minhyuk’s warm hand grips Hyunwoo at his base and Hyunwoo can feel that tight ring of muscle right at the head. They’re really about to do this. “I’m positive, one hundred percent, I want your dick in my ass, Hyunwoo,” His words come tumbling out, impatient, “I’m going, okay?”

He seemed to realize, like Hyunwoo hoped he would, that he’s in control.

The smirk Minhyuk flashes is the last thing Hyunwoo sees before the other man sinks down on him. Their jaws fall slack at the same time; Minhyuk is so tight, teasing Hyunwoo’s cock into his body while Hyunwoo tries to resist the pull and go slow. He doesn’t know what Minhyuk’s thinking, but by the way he chokes out, “Feels amazing, fuck,” like a prayer, Hyunwoo can guess he wants more as well.

So he gives more. Hyunwoo waits a moment for Minhyuk to adjust, and when Minhyuk is fully seated on his dick, he grinds his hips forward. And Minhyuk throws his head back like he’s experiencing heaven. If it’s anything like what Hyunwoo feels, he might just be.  

This is filthy. Everything about this is dirty and wrong and Hyunwoo doesn’t want to hurt Minhyuk or make him regret this. It’s a bit like torture, having Minhyuk rock up and down in his lap, and all he can do is lay still and grip Minhyuk’s thighs.

As Minhyuk adjusts, his movements become more confident until he’s nearly bouncing on Hyunwoo’s lap, but it seems that isn’t enough. Minhyuk can’t do all the work—“Hyunwoo,” he whines, “Please,” Hyunwoo knows they shouldn’t be doing this, but fuck, does he love the way Minhyuk begs. “You can move,” Minhyuk’s voice sounds different during sex, rougher and lower. “Hyunwoo, come on, just fuck me please.” He rarely ever swears, but now Minhyuk’s coarse tone adds some commanding quality to each word.

Hyunwoo is so close to losing it. His legs are shaking, wanting more than anything to thrust wildly into Minhyuk. “Please,” Minhyuk keeps tempting him, “Don’t hold back. Just—”

One time. Hyunwoo does it one time to test the waters—thrusting up to meet the swell of Minhyuk’s ass. And Minhyuk reacts so well to him, gasping and scraping dull fingernails down Hyunwoo’s sides.

He’s vocal. Hyunwoo expected him to be—Minhyuk rarely stops talking, even when they’re just sitting around, but fucking him seems to draw out new kinds of vocalization from Minhyuk. His moans are hardly stifled, responsive to everything Hyunwoo does. Every single thrust, every bite rewarded with a delicious sound.

The rhythm they set is fast and hard, both chasing the same end. Hyunwoo grips Minhyuk’s muscled thighs and Minhyuk furiously grasps at any bit of Hyunwoo he can get, wild moans leaking from his ruined lips. “There, there, there!”—all of it ringing out into the hot air between them.

The way Minhyuk moves his hips is sinful; Hyunwoo has watched him in dance practice sometimes (or every time) and wondered if he’d move like that in bed, too. Hyunwoo isn’t disappointed now; Minhyuk makes sure that every thrust hits his prostate dead-on, snapping his hips down with expert timing.

“I’m gonna come soon if you keep—” Minhyuk’s words choke off into a moan, and he grinds down hard on Hyunwoo’s lap.

Hyunwoo reaches for him, takes Minhyuk’s leaking dick into his fist and strokes him in time with their thrusts. “You can come, Min. When you’re ready.” He can feel it in his own stomach, the impatient heat, the rising pleasure, “I’m close, too.” The word ‘baby’ almost slips past his lips in the moment, and Hyunwoo bites his tongue to hold it in.

Minhyuk doesn’t come right away; it’s like he’s never satisfied, riding Hyunwoo until his eyes won’t stay open. But Hyunwoo can feel how close he is, how his motions become less steady with every thrust. And Hyunwoo is determined to give Minhyuk the best orgasm of his life: he jerks his hips up to meet Minhyuk so his thighs hit the man’s ass every time, palm curled around Minhyuk’s dick and then—

“Fuck, I’m coming!” Minhyuk gasps, and Hyunwoo works him through his orgasm. It’s wonderful, the way Minhyuk clenches around him, the slight spasms of his body when the pleasure becomes too much. Just the visual of Minhyuk’s body overcome by ecstasy gets Hyunwoo driving toward his own end.

Minhyuk’s legs go weak and he becomes dead weight on top on Hyunwoo, and in a moment, Hyunwoo has the man flipped onto his back. It’s much easier like this, and Minhyuk’s thighs come up around his waist to draw Hyunwoo deeper. The younger man pulls Hyunwoo in to kiss him rough on the mouth, hands travelling over Hyunwoo’s skin. Hyunwoo cherishes the drag of his cock inside Minhyuk as he fucks into him, and he’s so close. The voice in his ear is what does it, the hoarse, “Hyunwoo,” that sends him over the edge. And all the times he’s jerked off to thoughts of Minhyuk, the release has never felt this good.

He’d describe it as euphoric, almost—not exactly the feeling itself, but the way Minhyuk clings to him. Just for an instant, it’s like they’re connected. Like when they’re onstage and he makes eye contact with Minhyuk—it’s like that, but far more intense. Hyunwoo doesn’t allow himself too much time to bask in the afterglow, but he wants nothing more than to hold Minhyuk close for hours.

Slowly, he pulls out of Minhyuk and neatly ties up the condom. And it feels natural, settling back down on the bed, when Minhyuk curls into his space with his face pressed into Hyunwoo’s neck. Minhyuk’s warmth calms him somehow, or maybe it’s his presence in general, and the adrenaline starts to fade.

It’s only after coming down from the high that Hyunwoo puts everything together: he just slept with this band-mate. And they were completely sober.

What can he possibly say to Minhyuk after this? Their relationship is changed forever. The worst part of it is lying right next to him: Looking at this man, Hyunwoo admits there’s more to it than lust.

Because Hyunwoo knows himself. Now that he’s been with Minhyuk, nobody will ever compare again. In the back of his mind, he’s already imagining all the other things he wants to do with Minhyuk—from eating him out to holding his hand. It’s wrong to be thinking like this, but Hyunwoo is already three years deep into this mindset and he’ll never be able to erase it.

But here’s Minhyuk, never one for an awkward moment, dramatically collapsed on Hyunwoo’s chest with heavy breath. Hyunwoo wrenches his arm from beneath Minhyuk’s body to pat him lightly. “Don’t fall asleep, we have to clean up.”

In an unexpected burst of energy, Minhyuk slaps Hyunwoo’s shoulder. “How could I not be tired now?”

“You can be tired. Just don’t get too comfortable.” He says that for himself, too.

Minhyuk’s groan is muffled by the sheets as he slides, lazily, off of Hyunwoo. “What, you’re kicking me out? I have to do the walk of shame back to my room?”

“No,” Hyunwoo winces at his words, “You’re a close friend of mine. This… might be a conversation for another time. Let’s just take a shower.”

A deep sigh comes from where Minhyuk’s face meets the sheets. “Don’t want to.”

It sounds final. So Hyunwoo lets him be; he inches over so Minhyuk has more room on the cramped bed, and carefully brings a blanket to cover Minhyuk. He’ll have to wash everything later, but for now, they lapse into a thoughtful silence.

True to form, Minhyuk props himself up and breaks this silence: “Would you do it again?” Minhyuk smiles up at him, rests his head on Hyunwoo’s chest. He’s done this so many times before, but nothing is the same anymore (or maybe it was always like this, and Hyunwoo’s head is too dizzy to think straight).

Hyunwoo swallows. “We shouldn’t.”

“But would you?”

All of Hyunwoo’s words catch in his throat, and he can only nod. In a heartbeat.

“Perfect.” Minhyuk turns his head into the nearest patch of Hyunwoo’s skin and places a kiss there, then works his way up until he can kiss Hyunwoo’s lips. It feels natural, and right, and Hyunwoo finds himself leaning into the man’s touch.

This kiss alone is softer than any moment during their round of sex, and Hyunwoo doesn’t know what that means on Minhyuk’s end. “Wait,” he breaks the kiss, against his wishes, “We need rules for something like this. Don’t we?”

“Rules?” Minhyuk makes a face, pecks his lips again, “Hyunwoo, what kind of rules do we need? Aren’t we kind of past that point?”

All Hyunwoo can think about is touching Minhyuk again. His fingers itch to explore Minhyuk’s body, completely ignoring all logic in his brain. “I just think—This is a serious situation, right? So we should have rules. At least one.”

At that, Minhyuk laughs, and the blanket slides off his shoulder in a positively seductive way. “Okay, one rule—” He cups Hyunwoo’s cheeks, gives him playful kisses again and again like he can’t get enough—“Don’t let Hyungwon find out.”

Crossing his better judgement, Hyunwoo moves to hover above Minhyuk’s face. And Minhyuk drags him down so Hyunwoo can speak against his mouth: “Sounds good to me.”