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He Talks In Stereo // Sounds So Good To Me

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Hyunjin blinks his eyes, and the radium green letters remain imprinted on his lids.


The place where his skull meets his neck burns with an antagonistic fire. Do it. Do it, because the virtual reality system wasn’t just for remote reconnaissance and detonation. In fact, wouldn’t even have such modules if they weren’t there for a reason.


Chan gave them all the codes, in discreet encrypted message of course. This was done with the intent of cutting down on jealousy, bickering, and distractions between them in the field. Of course, there was the implied intent that they’d stop fooling around with each other, or at least slow down.  

Of course, that really didn’t happen.

The modules were good, but they were far from perfect. What good is having anyone you want, if you really have nothing at all?  At best, all they do is fan the flames of desire.


If he stops to think about it, really think about it, it pisses him off. Changbin fucks everybody. Well, not everybody. He’s pretty sure that Woojin and Jeongin are still lost in their own, strange little world where it’s just the two of them. But Changbin fucks a lot. He’s with Chan and Jisung the most, and they don’t even try to hide it when they’re all together. Chanbin, Chan and Jisung have strategy meetings that go on into the night and into Chan’s bedroom. 

He’s not sure if Changbin has been with Minho, but Minho’s got it bad for Jisung, and so it seems likely. He can hear him and Felix through the air vents, and Seungmin has a big mouth and told him all about the laundry incident.

So, if Changbin fucks everybody except for him? Then it’s got to be a problem with him.

One time Seungmin suggested, “have you tried asking?” Because apparently that’s all that it takes.

In reality, it’s much harder to actually say anything. Changbin is stationed on a sub-basement far below him, in a server room. From there, he runs everything, from their defenses to the stale recycled air that is pumped through their compound. He rarely has the time to join them, and when he does he’s usually at Chan’s side, prepping for upcoming maneuvers.


 Hyunjin enters line, after line, after line of code. Reading back each sequence as it rapid fire flies across his field of vision makes him shiver. He shouldn’t, it’s just that when Changbin does join them, there are lots of people vying for his attention.

When they do interact one another it’s touch and go at the very best. Changbin is as playful with him as he is the rest. That is to say, his charm quickly slides into the itchy feeling of annoyance. Changbin pats his sides, and leans into his space until there are scant inches between them. Of course, Hyunjin responds to the game that Changbin initiates. His hands rest on his thighs, or their pinkies link together when they fall onto the dilapidated common room sofa.

But all too soon Changbin is called away. The warm place where their bodies touched feels like a caustic burn on his skin. Never seen to completion, these interactions make Hyunjin feel disingenuous.


But so far Hyunjin has only stuck his toe in the river of what it means to be disingenuous. Frustrated, and fitful, he is more than willing than to dive in head first.  Hyunjin enters the final passcode, confirming the specifications entered into module. A shower of static rains over the visual plane, transporting him far, far away from the subbasement.

Growing up, Changbin had a lot of free time. He was sick all the time, and when he was at home he watched a lot of really stupid movies and read a lot of stupid books. The ones that he thought were good? Well he became obsessed with them.

He watched a movie that was literally older than the internet about an archaeologist. So, for the longest time, Changbin wanted to become an archaeologist. That was all well and good until he read a book about people who summited mount Everest long before he was born. They all died. In that book they gave a million reasons why they should’ve known better than to go on. Made it seem like they almost deserved to die.

And the natural response Changbin had? Well he wanted to be a mountain climber after he read that one.

On one hand, it’s just a little bit odd that all of these heroic figures that he used as placeholders for himself were at best masters of nature, and at worst naked emperors left out in the elements. Because now?

On one hand, it’s odd. On the other, one of the very last movies he saw before he met Chan was this one where everyone was plugged into the internet, and a few people broke free. So instead of climbing Everest, or being an archaeologist, he just picked another movie.

Changbin cannot recall the last time he’s seen the honest to god sun. His set up is in the sub-basement of a sub-basement, but even way back then the sun was most frequently viewed through thick black smog.

It doesn’t matter so much now. and his primary mission is to watch, cipher, encode. Over, and over and over.

Changbin isn’t just good at what he does, he’s too good. Woojin says that he has a third eye, but he really has no idea. All seeing, Changbin watches the opposition with burgeoning ire, and the inhabitants of their compound with morbid curiosity.

Voyeuristic curiosity.

Right now, one of the VR consoles has logged new geodata suggesting that it has been removed from the terminal room. Interesting, is one word to describe the data that’s being run through the system.  Vulnerable, is of course another.

Hyunjin attaches the gloves slowly, watching each finger become enveloped in wire mesh, wires poking out of the frame like veins jolted to rest above his skin. Before he puts on the ocular overlay, he sits in a room with water stained walls and ceiling. The paint is chipped across the floor. In the shallow space between levels, the ceiling not even tall enough for him to stand in the room, he both praises and curses whoever was smart enough to drag a stained mattress down here. They’re rarely if ever alone, and so this place for all its awfulness has become some kind of sanctuary.

 After he puts on the ocular overlay, he’s transported into a world long gone. The hardwood floor is covered by a soft navy shag rug. His bed is covered by a red down comforter, dozens of pillows, and all of it is shielded by the long opaque bed canopy that he begged his mother to hang from the ceiling. It filters out the light and makes it oh so easy for him to sleep in, even when he shouldn’t. These details, big things, things that he looked at every day are reborn here with complete accuracy.

But for a split second, he has to wonder what details he has failed to recreate. Did he have two striped pillows, or only one? With what certainty can he say he had a photo of himself and Jisung on his desk? They knew each other, but he can’t remember if they were particularly close before. What about the family photo nestled against the cork board?  They could’ve gone to Tokyo Disney, but what if it was actually a trip to Universal Studios in Osaka? He runs his fingers over the framed photos on his desk. Not a speck of dust is displaced by the action. At least that is correct.   

Hyunjin always liked his space best when it was clean.

Hyunjin turns back towards his bed. Laying upon his bed with all the playful confidence that he possesses in real life, Changbin watches him examine his things with a smirk. “I read your diary while you were messing around downstairs.”

“Yeah?” Hyunjin arches his brow and throws it right back at Changbin. He doesn’t keep a diary. Even though this is a scenario entirely of his own design, he wouldn’t have it any other way. He wants it to be as real as possible, wants Changbin to be as simultaneously cute and annoying as possible. “Find anything good?”

Hyunjin looks away for a split second. His eyes focus on his Red Velvet poster. His brother teased him about having a poster of girls hanging up on his wall, but he really just wanted to learn the cute dances and sing about liking boys.

Then, his eyes snap back to Changbin. He’s wearing far less now. First, the program enters in something he’s seen Changbin wear before. A pair of designer underwear, several years old with the waistband beginning to rip from the fabric. With the shake of his head in disapproval, the underwear is rerendered into a plain black pair, unworn and undamaged.

“You’re really nasty Hwang Hyunjin.” Changbin rubs at the front of his underwear, as if Hyunjin hasn’t been staring at the bulge that strains against fabric already. “I want Changbin-hyung,” and he’s using the fake cute voice that Hyunjin should hate, but does his best to tease Changbin into using anyway. “To—”

Changbin doesn’t have a camera in that room. There’s kind of a silent and unspoken use for that space. But he can extract basic data. Hyunjin’s vitals tell just as much, if not more than the code being fed through the VR console. Elevated heartrate, erratic breathing pattern, increased skin conductance…If it were anyone else he’d tab over to another camera feed.

Except, he’s always had just one little problem with Hyunjin.

No matter how many times he sits down in his lap, slaps his ass, or runs his hands up his thigh, Hyunjin freezes.

But here’s the thing. Seungmin, has told him all about what Hyunjin is capable of. This was done accidentally of course, in the excited, playful kind of way that happens when you finally hook up with someone you’ve been after a long time.

Yeah, the way Seungmin told him was nothing at all like the way Minho charged down into the subbasement to tell him all about how Hyunjin sucked Jisung’s cock like it was candy.

Not to mention, he’s pretty sure that Hyunjin likes him. He can feel the weight and the heat of his gaze constantly whenever they’re in the same room together. Because he sees everything, he sees the way that Hyunjin diverts his own gaze as soon as Changbin raises his own eyes to meet him.

Some things are just static, unchanging. The video feed from the third ward. The undeniable fact that Minho is a bastard. Other things, are less static, and more permeable. Whatever the hell happens when he’s trying to get Hyunjin’s attention? That’s changing.

One time when he was down in the subbasement, he saw a faded tube of cherry Chapstick on Chanbgin’s console. For this reason, he programmed Chanbgin’s lips to be extra soft, and taste like wax and artificial cherries. The rest is the work of his personality file, spliced into fantasy. And for this reason, his virtual Changbin is an intoxicating mixture of relentless, addictive, and obnoxious.

As soon as their lips brush, Changbin’s forcing Hyunjin’s mouth open, plunging his tongue inside, and retreating just as soon as he begins to really kiss him. All of this accompanied by tickling touches against his jeans, feather light and infuriating.

“Changbin,” Hyunjin huffs, already submerged and swept away by the program’s realism.

“Listen,” Changbin husks into his ear. “I’m older than you. I know more about this than you.” And any form of protest is hushed immediately when Changbin latches onto Hyunjin’s neck and sucks a deep purple mark at the place where his skin is the softest.

“But,” the tips of Hyunjin’s fingertips hum underneath Changbin’s bare skin. He can feel every twitch of muscle beneath his fingertips and every bob of Changbin’s cock beneath tight black briefs. Hyunjin closes his eyes, and in a split second renders his own body naked. “I’ve wanted this so much more.”

Changbin pulls off of his neck with an obscene suck-pop noise. His jaw is slack, and his eyes are blown wide in shock, as If he hadn’t considered this before.

Hyunjin takes Changbin’s confusion between his hands and does his best to explain with his body. He pushes Changbin to the mattress, and hooks his thumbs into the waistband of Changbin’s briefs. Yes, he could simply have them disappear with a wave of his hand, but no he wants this. He wants the reveal, and he wants the heavy, vulnerable moment where he’s looking at Changbin naked, and Changbin is looking at him.

So, he does just that, watching Changbin’s cock spring free from over the top of the waistband.

It takes sixty-four seconds to summon the lurching old elevator to life. Not that he’s counting on the Casio he wears strapped to his wrist every day. It takes seventy-eight seconds for the elevator to make the crawl up to the space between floors where Hyunjin is hidden, not that he’s counting on the Casio that Jisung pulled out of a garbage can in the city and presented to him like it was made of gold. In those seventy-eight seconds Changbin talks himself out of it and back into it a half-dozen times.

And Hyunjin justifies it all in less than a half a second.

The lighting is scant in the crawlspace, but from what he can see, Hyunjin makes the bare, stained mattress dragged into the crawlspace look like paradise on Egyptian cotton sheets. Hyunjin sits on his knees with his pants bunched down around his knees. Hyunjin works himself with a firm grip, lavishing attention on the tip and smearing pre-cum across it with his long thin fingers. With the VR console shielding his eyes, Hyunjin’s entire expression is reduced to his plush lips parted slightly.

A single word spills from his lips, and then his sharp jawline clenches tight. Bright white teeth press into his red lower lip as he draws in a rushed breath. “Changbin.”

“Hyunjin please,”

“Hmmm,” Hyunjin drags his fingers upward, flicks his wrist, and lets go of Changbin’s cock. “No.”

“It’s not fair.” Hyunjin can be obnoxious too, and…he wants the upper hand here. He may not ever have it in real life. “Just do it already.” Changbin scoots across the duvet and tries to wrap his leg around Hyunjin’s middle.

Hyunjin catches his ankle, and holds him firm. “Maybe…Maybe if you suck my dick.”

For what cannot be more than a few seconds, but drags on like hours, Changbin cannot do anything other than watch Hyunjin. The sound is nothing like the frantic, almost painful tug-jerk that comes with trying to get off in an overcrowded bunk room. He touches himself with a feather light precision that indicates that this is special, like he wants to make it last.

Hyunjin’s other hand, the one strapped into the VR glove, rests upon his knee. Shining metal contrasts with pale white skin.

Changbin waves his arms for good measure. Coughs, and the noise makes him jump, but does nothing to draw Hyunjin out of his own hypnotic state. The clink of his belt buckle being undone echoes in the vast, empty crawlspace and accents the rustling sound of skin against skin as Hyunjin jerks off. Undoing his zipper sounds like tearing his jeans apart, and drowns Hyunjin out completely.

Changbin jams his hands down his pants, and as his jeans fall to his ankles he awkwardly moves forward. And it’s stupid, so damn stupid, like he’s forgotten how to do anything right. Haphazardly, Changbin shuffle-trips across the floor pumping his cock as he moves before finally dropping to his knees inches away from the mattress on the floor.

Even with his lips wrapped around his cock, Changbin’s true antagonistic nature shows through. In the scant seconds between grasping Hyunjin’s cock into his hand and taking him into his mouth, Changbin pauses and looks at him with smug satisfaction.  “It’s good right?”

Hyunjin threads his fingers into Changbin’s thick hair and pulls him back down onto his own cock. “So good, Changbin.”

He can take all of him in at once, and this is something that Hyunjin believes isn’t just a fantasy but the honest to god truth. His cheeks hollow and his throat bobs as he moves up and down, up and down, pausing only to lavish more attention on the tip of Hyunjin’s cock. Tracing the ridge and teasing the slit, he does this over and over again all the while teasing his balls in his hand.

The sensation on his cock, not the avatar of himself, but his real cock changes slightly. It feels better than just his hand teasing him slowly, but it has got to be the power of immersion.

Hyunjin grips himself by the base, but keeps the tip of his cock in Changbin’s mouth. Jerks himself until the program catches up with what he wants and shows the image of him spilling into Changbin’s mouth, across his lips, nose, and chin. Hyunjin watches Changbin lap it up with a devilish grin.

It was stupid of him to pretend that he possessed any shred of caution, and so he tosses aside any remaining shards.

Changbin’s hand roams over Hyunjin’s body, first over his hip and the muscle defined place where stomach meets crotch. Then he moves down his thighs, first the outside, and then the inside. Changbin wraps his arms around Hyunjin’s middle, and he digs the tip of his fingers into the soft skin and hard muscle of Hyunjin’s body.

Pressed chest to chest, but still wearing their shirts, the way that he embraces Hyunjin is awkward. His hand constantly bumps against the large cold auxiliary cord plugged into the VR console. “Hyunjin,” he can’t even be certain if he says it aloud or if he just thinks it. “You’re wrong.”  These words are certain he says out loud. He can feel the puff of his own hot breath intermingle with Hyunjin’s.

Changbin presses his mouth to Hyunjin’s and Hyunjin’s lips fall open, allowing him to press his tongue inside of Hyunjin’s mouth. The kiss is sloppy. Spit pools in the corner of Hyunjin’s mouth and becomes smeared across Changbin’s lips as they kiss.

The sticky wet sounds of their lips parting and crashing back together should be embarrassing. The soft whimpering sounds that Hyunjin makes should tug at his heart until he feels the pang of guilt rise up from his gut. Instead, it only spurns him on more.

When Changbin pulls back to wipe the saliva from his own mouth, he replaces his lips with his fingers. First, he tests Hyunjin’s plush pink lips, and then plunging his fingers into his mouth as Hyunjin greedily accepts them. Then, his fingers are coated in saliva and Hyunjin is moaning against his fingers like it’s the best thing in the world.

After that?  

Changbin sees his own hand in front of him, but it looks strange and foreign. Like a strobe light in a dark room he can see some of his actions, while other key pieces are missing. He doesn’t see his hand lurching forward, so all that he’s left with is the image of his hand wrapped around the root of Hyunjin’s cock. All he feels is the pulse of a vein beneath his skin and the heat of Hyunjin’s body. Hyunjin’s hand knocks against his clamped tight fist as he continues to jerk himself slowly.

Changbin holds his breath and moves his hand in time with Changbin once up the length of his shaft. He allows himself to breathe again only when he murmurs against Hyunjin’s ear. “I want it more.”

Hyunjin’s ready to go again, because his body can do anything in simulation. Hyunjin watches with rapt fascination as Changbin turns over onto his stomach, cradles his own favorite pillow against his chest, and arches his back.

The very best part? It’s all for him.

The tips of his fingers dig into the soft flesh of Changbin’s ass. Hyunjin doesn’t have to do anything to get Changbin ready because his body can do anything in simulation. This doesn’t stop Hyunjin from allowing saliva to pool in his lower lip, nor does it stop him from spitting on Changbin’s hole and watching it slide across his entrance and perineum. He’s here to be indulgent, and so shame was cast aside long ago.

“I’m not going to beg,” Changbin throws his head back and taunts. “I tried that already. It didn’t work, so you missed out.”

“You’re not?” Hyunjin drags his cock down the length of the crack of Changbin’s ass pressing his cheeks together all the while. “I mean. This is good too,” he says repeating the action. “I can get off from just this.”

“Yeah, but that’s boring,” Changbin counters.

“But I’m just so young, and so inexperienced,” Hyunjin twists Changbin’s words from earlier and throws them back at him. Humping against Channgbin, and doing nothing for him is fun. Reaching around to tease his cock, and then let go is even more fun.

If this were real, there would be more bickering. Now? Changbin yields with a simple, fuck drunk whine, “please.”

Hyunjin slides in smoothly, watching the band of skin at Changbin’s entrance stretch around him.  He doesn’t have to wait for Changbin’s body to adjust. Of course, this is another perk of simulation.  He’s absolutely free to drown in delicious friction, the drag and the pull that feels just right. So he does just that with roll after roll of his hips.

The sounds that Changbin makes only spurn him onward. Gone is the forced voice that drips saccharine. In its place is something deeper and more guttural, as if each slam of Hyunjin’s hips tears out something deep and personal from Changbin. “Hyunjin-Hyun-Hyun,” melts into the sound of their own frantic gasps and the rhythmic sound of skin slapping against skin.

The sensation on his skin feels so different from when he’s used the system in the past. Bursts of warmth appear on his body, and vanish just as quickly. The grasp on his cock no longer feels like his own, and it’s too good to question.

Changbin turns back to look at him with flushed cheeks and slack jaw.

“Are you close Changbin? Just from my cock?”

Changbin nods.

“Me too,” he admits. “Where do you want me to cum?”

The response is automatic. Never mind the fact that he knows this kind of thing pisses him off. Minho told him that much too. “My ass.”

Although he’s done his best to build it up slowly, and make it last, his orgasm tears through his body quickly and powerfully. It’s something to be felt from the curl of his toes to the tingle in his scalp. It’s so incredibly strong that it feels as if he’s been punched in the gut in the very best kind of way.

As he ends the simulation, he continues to feel hands upon his body hear the unmistakable sound of a cock being furiously jerked.

Changbin takes both of their lengths into his hand and ruts against Hyunjin. He knows that Hyunjin is so worked up. He knows that Hyunjin isn’t going to last. This is made true by the flick-twist of Changbin’s wrist as Hyunjin cums in powerful erratic spurts into his hand.

But this isn’t enough for Changbin, and he cannot stop now.

Boldly, stupidly, he takes his own cock back into his hand and pumps furiously.

Hyunjin says nothing as he fidgets with the dial on the side of the console ending the simulation, but he’s got to know. Slowly, purposefully, Hyunjin removes the glove from his hand first.

Then, Changbin ups the ante on his own stupidity. With the hand that isn’t wrapped around his own cock, he tugs at the console strapped to Hyunjin’s face.

Hyunjin does the same.

Together, they lift off the headset. For a moment, Hyunjin’s bangs are lifted up by the goggles before falling back into his face. In that moment Changbin can see a thousand or more emotions intermingled with thoughts and questions in Hyunjin’s expression.

A sharp gasp cuts through the tension, and in that moment they are both forced to violently, irrevocably collide.


The thunder of the sound of Changbin’s own heart is deafening. The rush of blood to his head pounds in his ears, hammers at his temples, and makes his vision tunnel.

Hyunjin’s long, sticky fingers bunch into Changbin's shirt and pull him forward. His lips are soft, warm, and inviting.