Work Text:
When the secretary steps into the conference room, Minhyuk's close to the end of his presentation.
He's standing in the front of the conference table filled with twenty bald people in suits and he has his hands open and arms spread so you can perfectly see the green and violet dots on his tie. Behind him: a photograph the size of three Minhyuks attached to the board. On the photograph: a set of mealtime feeding plates forming two towers. Above the towers and consequently above Minhyuk's head: the logo of Food Buddies.
"Food Buddies make eating fun," Minhyuk singsongs again. It so happens that his voice perfectly mimics the audio recording. "Trust me. This jingle will get stuck in your heads."
The secretary knocks on the door that she's just walked through to get Minhyuk's attention. She moves her mouth exaggeratedly without saying anything aloud and Minhyuk immediately knows what this is about.
"Profitable, sustainable, and honest," Minhyuk says, closing his three fingers, one per each adjective. "It's something we all care about. I'm sorry, gentlemen, but I think I've got to leave early and allow you to marinate my proposal in your heads."
All twenty heads seem to turn to face the secretary. Minhyuk packs the pens into his briefcase and locks it.
"Everyone's got the copies? Eleven pages altogether. If questions occur, you know who to call." Someone opens their mouth and Minhyuk waves his hand. He's already walking towards the entrance where the secretary is, passing by each bald head on his way. "Yes, Mr Kim, that's totally valid feedback. I'll be glad to take it into consideration."
Someone else makes a rushed comment and Minhyuk points at them with his half empty coffee cup.
"Page seven. I already thought about it." He stops, lifts his coffee cup again, and says, "Call me, fax me, email me. You've got this, gentlemen. Thank you for your time."
He leaves the room.
Minhyuk meets Changkyun in the hall and immediately leads him to the men's room. On their way, they pass by a set of three giant posters: Roll it, Mold it, Transform it! in this order. It's the squishy stretchy foam that you can use to create just about anything that Minhyuk worked on last Christmas selling season.
"Where are we going?" Changkyun asks.
"Somewhere private," Minhyuk says. He finishes drinking and throws his empty cup of coffee into a bin. The distance is about three feet so five points.
"Did I interrupt anything?"
"I was just finishing anyway."
Minhyuk pushes the door open and Changkyun steps right behind. The door closes on its own. Minhyuk takes a look: nobody at the sinks. He turns around and Changkyun almost bumps into him and then Minhyuk grabs the collar of his shirt and brings their faces to a kiss.
"I got called by Mr Nam," Changkyun says when their lips part. "That's why I'm here."
"Vice president of casting and talent," Minhyuk provides.
Changkyun shrugs indifferently and he's already removing his tie. "Possibly."
"He's head over heels with you, this old bastard." Minhyuk checks which cabin is the cleanest and by the time he turns back around, Changkyun's tie is gone and his shirt is unbuttoned and his chest is showing. Sculptured. How Changkyun first met Minhyuk is Changkyun was posing in a pair of tight briefs and Minhyuk was advertising them.
Look! Now you can turn anything into a fabulous foam creation!
"He really wanted you for a few projects last year, but you got so expensive, baby," Minhyuk says.
Changkyun gives a laugh. He walks into the cabin that Minhyuk courteously opens for him. Minhyuk follows him, locks the cabin.
"Should I take the offer?"
"Will that mean that you'll be around here more often?"
"Possibly."
Next thing Minhyuk says can hardly be heard because his mouth is already sucking onto Changkyun's pectoral muscle in general and his nipple in particular. What comes out is a wet grunt.
Changkyun sighs. He's standing on his one foot, props the other on the toilet lid, and his eyes are looking up at the men's room's ceiling.
"How much time have you got?"
Minhyuk unsucks his lips, twists the nipple with his fingers instead. "For you, all the time in the world, baby."
Changkyun started squeezing his dick through his jeans and he's looking straight into Minhyuk's eyes.
Squish it back or keep it forever!
"Don't say shit like this to me."
Minhyuk makes an oppositional sound against Changkyun's other pectoral muscle and the muscle tenses, tightens, then relaxes. Eight out of ten photoshoots Changkyun takes part in involve removing his shirt. It's strangely erotic to know that the old vice president of casting and talent is just as interested in Changkyun's breasts as Minhyuk currently is. They're moving as if on their own, independent of the rest of Changkyun's body. The nipple that Minhyuk just stopped sucking is slightly reddened now and puckered, sad that Minhyuk moved on to the other one. Changkyun's reaction to all of this is mild. Nipples live the lives of their own, mostly in jealousy of one another.
"What you did last time hasn't been forgotten yet. Keep that in mind."
Minhyuk hums in acknowledgement.
His hands join the scene. They remove Changkyun's hand off his crotch and proceed to unzip the zipper of Changkyun's jeans.
"Still annoyed, huh?"
The jeans are pushed off Changkyun's ass. They are loose, easily fall to the floor. The briefs are tighter: Minhyuk's fingers slide under the fabric and use force to remove it. Changkyun's cock springs up against his stomach, chiseled.
"Maybe some things can't be ever forgotten."
The sight of how aroused Changkyun got in such a short period of time gets Minhyuk equally aroused. He fidgets with his zipper, clumsy with need, finally succeeds in bringing his own cock out too. Their cocks touch.
"What were you talking about, babe?"
Changkyun sighs, thus joining Minhyuk's sigh, making it one collective sigh of two sources and reasons. Changkyun's hands shoot in two directions, looking for something, anything to hold onto, like he's about to lose his balance out of the sudden pleasure. They eventually land: left on the cabin wall, right on the toilet tank. Minhyuk presses his body to Changkyun's and rolls his hips.
"I'm not going to sleep with Mr Nam, by the way," Changkyun says.
Another roll. Minhyuk's looking up at the ceiling now. He's still high on caffeine and pitching concepts always gets him horny. His eyes roll.
"A pity," he says. "Condoms?"
Changkyun fishes out of the back pocket of his jeans. Of course he'd have one there, in the most easily accessible place. Condoms is something Changkyun always needs to have with him. The realization makes Minhyuk giddy.
"You know what I pitched today and they totally bought?" Minhyuk asks.
Changkyun rolls his eyes too, not out of pleasure.
Minhyuk removes himself a bit in order to roll the condom onto his cock. His hands are a bit shaky with coffee and Changkyun sees it and helps him. He gives Minhyuk three long strokes. Minhyuk has always thought Changkyun to be exceptionally good at hand jobs. It's the bony fingers somehow.
"No idea.
"Food plates for kids," Minhyuk gasps under Changkyun's touch. "Are you stretched?"
Changkyun considers the question. "Enough."
Minhyuk grunts. "Fucked anyone today?" His cock pulses in Changkyun's hand at the question and Changkyun must know.
"You wish."
"Of course."
Changkyun doesn't let the moment linger for too long. He turns around and faces the cabin instead. His both hands press against the cabin wall and he leans a bit, sticking his ass out. His back arches and Minhyuk wraps his hand over Changkyun's muscled stomach. His cock slips in with ease which entertains Minhyuk more than it should. Changkyun clenches around him intentionally.
"What about the food plates for kids?"
"They're like majorly dumb," Minhyuk says. "What's the ad the vice president wants you for?"
Changkyun rolls his hips once, then makes an aborted sound. "Perfumes."
"Sexy."
With your own squishy foam, the fun never stops!
What happened last time that Changkyun is still annoyed by, Minhyuk barely remembers.
It was some kind of a new release interview, lots of people in suits present. The camera panned, then stopped, then closed on the two of them, Changkyun and Minhyuk. They were standing pretty close together and Changkyun was wearing a shirt Minhyuk was photographed in like a week ago. When the question came from the interviewer, of course Minhyuk said no. They were not dating.
"So what are we doing?" Changkyun asks in the present time, from their bathroom where he's removing the three layers of cover cream that can fill every acne hole in his skin to make it look even. Holy grail kind of product, ten out of ten.
Minhyuk waits for the water to stop running before he answers. "Living our best life and not overthinking it?" he makes an educated guess.
Changkyun appears in the doorway, makeup removed, his black hair pulled back into a bun but with some strands still hanging on either side of his face, partially wet. The expression he makes is enough to know how he judges Minhyuk's response on the scale from one to ten.
Minhyuk pretends to think about it. He's lying in their bed with the laptop open and he's re-reading his script from two days ago to give himself a fresh perspective. He's waiting for the sense of clarity to come.
And he's responding to Changkyun's question apparently. "We are having fun and not taking things too seriously?"
Changkyun doesn't change his expression. What he's wearing and Minhyuk's only now noticing is a nice and sexy dark blue bathrobe which is only formally tied around Changkyun's waist and technically hanging very loosely. Much skin is revealed.
"Hey, listen," he tries a different approach. "I just thought about this from a technical standpoint. Why would you want to lock yourself into a box? Wouldn't that negatively affect your work?"
He knows he's right in some way when Changkyun looks away. He starts patting the moisturizer into his skin instead, like the conversation doesn't fully absorb his attention. Changkyun's like that.
"On a side note, though." Minhyuk makes a table in his head, divides it into two columns, one column pros, the other cons, then scratches it. "Guys don't like guys who are taken."
"So this is about sex."
"Everything is an opportunity to grow or an obstacle from growing," Minhyuk says, now removing the glasses from his nose and pushing them into his hair. "I think it's nice that we settled this in the public eye."
A few days later Minhyuk's trying to be a nice guy. Kind gestures are easy to make but their echoes are truly endless. He arrives at the photoshoot around seven.
In one corner, there's a studio backdrop and reflectors and a crescent moon hanging from the ceiling on which one model in skimpy underwear is trying to look pensive and dreamy but fails and complains to the photographer and the assistants and the technical crew. The photographer's trying to take pictures. Behind the photographer, another photographer is taking pictures of taking picture.
Minhyuk keeps moving.
In the other corner, there's a bunch of models hanging around bored and Changkyun's one of them.
By the outfit he's wearing, tight sleeveless t-shirt, low-waisted jeans, motorcycle boots, Minhyuk guesses that he's done with his work for the day. He's talking to some guy Minhyuk vaguely remembers working with in the past with but can't remember the name of, and the guy looks pleased, relaxed, and that's all Minhyuk needs to see to know that they fuck.
Changkyun fucked lots of them: fellow models, photographers, B list actors, reality show producers, prop stylists, production coordinators, project assistants...
Changkyun's keeping his cool guy pose. He's a bit hunched, as if he's relaxed, but also like every second of looking relaxed makes him very tired. His chest is thrusted forward and his arms are crossed and this optically makes his muscles appear bigger but also limits his movement. He's blinking fast, a detail seen even from afar. There's a pair of sports sunglasses tucked on his t-shirt.
Minhyuk keeps moving, through the crowd of bored models.
Looking at Changkyun, at his lips moving, Minhyuk mouths to himself, "Oh really? It's your first time seeing me pose?"
Black hair, formal attire, the man laughs to Changkyun.
How Minhyuk hears Changkyun's voice in his head is a cassette on half speed mumbling.
"I hope they'll turn out great," Changkyun says through Minhyuk's mouth. Minhyuk's inner voice can even reproduce Changkyun's awkward laugh with the precision of a quiver of a lip.
He watches for a moment longer and then Changkyun slightly turns his head and notices Minhyuk.
Minhyuk approaches them. "Interrupting something?" he asks, smile rising to his lips in a record speed. "Lee Minhyuk," he introduces himself like he needs introductions. He mentions his position and company.
The guy outstretches his arm to shake Minhyuk's hand. The grip of his hand is strong. He fucks Changkyun well.
"Yoo Kihyun," the guy introduces himself, then his position and then his company.
Minhyuk snaps his fingers, guesses the name of the show Kihyun worked on. Kihyun smiles, pleased, nods his head. It's a fun game, the game of introductions. Everyone's three blowjobs and one screenplay removed from everyone else.
"You?" Kihyun means the relationship between Minhyuk and Changkyun. The motivation isn't even that subtle.
Changkyun: "We worked on some commercials before."
Kihyun: "Oh."
Minhyuk smiles very distantly. "Which is," he says, "what I'm coming here about. Remember the perfumes commercial? You got it. Congratulations."
Friday evening, like a few weeks later, Changkyun says that he's going on a date.
Minhyuk lifts his eyes off the screen of his laptop where he's trying to refreshen a script from last week before next week's pitch meeting. Current concept is: guy brings pack of chips into office, guy opens pack, everyone eats chips, everyone starts dancing. The tag line goes: You got Brand Name, you got a party!
"Who's the lucky guy?" he asks, pushing his glasses back, into his hair. Changkyun's silhouette gets more sharp in his field of vision.
"Kihyun." Changkyun's pulling clothes out of the closet, mostly shirts, tight t-shirts, tight jeans. He pulls one item out, compares it with another, throws one of the two onto the sofa where there's already a pile of them.
Minhyuk takes a moment to think about it. "Your new photographer?"
Shirt, shirt, jeans, shirt. "You know I don't fuck guys I currently work with."
"I could bring up a couple of exceptions from this rule, but I'm not gonna do it."
Minhyuk watches from the bed how Changkyun presses a shirt to his chest and looks at himself in the mirror, then throws a pair of dark blue jeans with glitter onto the sofa. He says, "Screenwriter," and Minhyuk immediately knows.
"Yoo Kihyun's taking you on a date," he says, in a tone like he's impressed. He whistles. "Again. How many dates has it already been?" The screen of his laptop turns black and he doesn't stir the touchpad to make it show the script again. He's no longer paying attention.
"We're going to a restaurant this time," Changkyun says, and either Minhyuk thinks there's smugness in his voice or there is smugness in his voice.
Minhyuk runs his tongue over the upper row of his teeth. "How very romantic of him."
The words and the tone in which he pronounces them successfully create a kind of tension that's immediately understandable between the two of them. Changkyun presses a top to his chest, which is tight as fuck and made of some shiny, stretchy fabric, and he turns around to face Minhyuk. "What about this one?" he asks for opinion.
The desired answer is obvious, a low hanging fruit, if Minhyuk's being honest.
He lets the moment stretch a little, making Changkyun wait. "You're gonna look like a slut," he says at last.
Changkyun doesn't respond. Not breaking the eye contact between them, looking Minhyuk straight in the eyes, he unties his bathrobe, lets it slide off his shoulders and fall onto the floor and he proceeds to pull the tight, shiny, stretchy fabric over his head and onto his chest. The top's sleeveless and a bit short so that it shows his belly button and both of his muscled arms. It emphasizes his breasts like it should. Changkyun fixes his hair.
"To a restaurant?" Minhyuk confirms.
Changkyun's eyes don't seem to be blinking. "Say that again."
"Say what again? That you look like a slut?"
"Uh-huh."
"You look like a slut. You're gonna make me so embarrassed if I let you leave home looking like this."
Changkyun's chest expands under the tight t-shirt, then he breathes out.
"Italian cuisine. He's going to pick me up at eight."
"Is he bringing you flowers?" Minhyuk asks, with a hint of mockery. "Does he kiss you on the cheek when he greets you?"
Now that he's thrown off his bathrobe, the lower part of Changkyun's attire is just a sad pair of white briefs. In them, Minhyuk can see the bulge forming and Changkyun knows that.
"I'll let you stay overnight if you ask me nicely," Minhyuk keeps going. Not taking his eyes off Changkyun, he closes his laptop and puts it aside, onto the bedside table. He stays sitting on the bed, doesn't move.
Changkyun's standing in the top and briefs, with a hard cock, good five steps away from Minhyuk. Their bedroom is big like this, the size of maybe three average bedrooms.
"Will you please let me stay overnight?" Changkyun asks after a while. His voice is low, quiet, but also a bit soft, intentionally soft. He's being a very very nice boy.
Minhyuk glances at the digital alarm clock, then back at Changkyun. "Call him," he tells Changkyun. "Tell him to be at half past."
Changkyun blinks his eyes.
"We need to make sure that your hole's stretched enough," Minhyuk says, in the most neutral voice that's possible. "It'd be rude not to."
When Changkyun makes the phone call, Minhyuk's already jerking himself off. When Changkyun says love you to his cellular phone, it catches Minhyuk off guard but it suceeds in making him fully hard and ready.
"That's the guy," Minhyuk says, leaning closer and lowering his voice, then remembering the music's too loud and raising it back again. "Yoo Kihyun. Television show screenwriter."
The twink that Minhyuk is sitting with tries to turn around and stare and Minhyuk slaps him on the arm with his hand. Surprised, Twink spills some of his drink. He groans a name of some fashion designer and says that it's a new collection, winter of this year. "Look what you did," he whines at Minhyuk.
Minhyuk rolls his eyes. "I'm gonna buy you another one. Jesus. Are you even listening to me?"
"So do I look or not?" the twink asks. He's maybe nineteen, a new muse of one of the fashion designers Minhyuk's vaguely familiar with. He has big eyes and round lips so he can look surprised each time he sucks dick.
"Look but be subtle."
Twink rolls his eyes. He slowly turns around, like he's checking his bag that's hanging on the back of his chair. He turns back to Minhyuk.
"Who's that he's with? Im Changkyun? That underwear model?"
Minhyuk sometimes wonders if it's even worth it making this much effort just for sex. "Yeah," he confirms. "And they're gonna fuck. Correction. They have been fucking. For two months now. Have you seen The Daily Heat? They landed a column for half a page."
Twink pushes the straw back into his mouth and sucks on it and hollows his cheeks and then looks at Minhyuk to see if he's looking.
Minhyuk's looking behind the twink, at the table that's approximately five tables away. Changkyun's sharing a sofa with Kihyun and there are some other people sitting beside them too, talking together and laughing, mostly models. Kihyun's hand's on Changkyun's thigh and Minhyuk can see it each time the spotlight beam moves onto them.
"They meet like every other day," Minhyuk says and realizes that he's drunk. He says things like this when he's drunk. There are six empty glasses on the table, all of them empty and belonging to him. He sees them when the spotlight beam moves onto their table. The party's mostly fashion related, celebrating some collection or other, Minhyuk doesn't remember anymore.
Twink stops sucking on the straw. "Do you guys even know each other?" he asks, with some pity or irritation in his voice.
Minhyuk runs a hand over his face. "I just told you he's--- Okay. Jesus. Forget this." Minhyuk downs what's left in his last glass. "Do you want to fuck?"
Twink rolls his eyes again and Minhyuk hates how that makes him look. "Duh," twink says. "I've been sitting here with you for over half an hour. My balls are starting to itch."
Minhyuk stands up. "Okay. Let's get going then. Chop, chop."
Twink stands up too. Minhyuk wraps his hand around his skinny waist. "Do you live close by?"
"Rest room will suffice. Let's not be picky."
As they maneuver between the tables and people, Minhyuk's eyes briefly meet Changkyun's.
"Your boyfriend's on tv," Minhyuk calls from the sofa.
Changkyun steps in from another room and he's currently buttoning his shirt. He looks at the plasma tv that's in front of the sofa. "Very funny." He sounds mildly irritated.
"Funny enough to me." Minhyuk points at Kihyun with the remote. "Guy presents himself terribly on screen. Look at how the lights make those strange cheek bones of his..." instead of finishing the sentence, he makes a facial expression.
Changkyun pauses. "Are you annoyed?" he asks Minhyuk.
Minhyuk finally looks away from the screen. "No."
"Do you want me to stop seeing him?"
Without missing a beat, "No."
Usually they do it in bars. Minhyuk points at a guy sitting across from them and asks, "How about this one?"
Or they're eating lunch somewhere in public and Minhyuk opens a glossy magazine, flips a page or two and lands with his finger on a photograph. "Him," he says. It's a bit like pitching a project at a project pitching meeting. "Look at the muscles. He could sit on your face and choke you with his thighs."
Minhyuk spots a dead fruit fly in his mug of latte and he pulls it out with his finger, and looking at it he says, "Fuck you fuck you fuck you," three times in a row like this, and he looks up and there's the advertising producer, creative producer, or post-production producer, one of these, standing in front of Minhyuk.
Minhyuk waves a hand at him. "Yup. Totally working on this right now," he says before removing himself from his spot.
Changkyun usually points a finger elsewhere, or flips the page entirely. He picks someone who's totally not Minhyuk's type, or who's not like either of their types. He finds someone Minhyuk works with or whom Minhyuk knows personally, and Minhyuk says, "No way," and Changkyun says, "Way," and Minhyuk says, "Bet," and he's happy when he loses. Changkyun fucks them like a pro.
The professional model slash actor that he is, the "It Boy" from the latest issue of The Daily Heat, Changkyun works like a chameleon when it comes to bed scenes. Sometimes Minhyuk watches as it happens and he's in the room with them, pouring himself gin or pacing around the hotel suite that they rent for the occasion, and Changkyun's splayed on the bed sheets, all of his black hair spread, his arms up and the guy's shaving his armpits and smelling them and kissing.
Advertising, creative, post-production, that guy follows Minhyuk around in the meeting room and Minhyuk finally stops running away.
"Didn't you say I can ask you questions all the time?" guy asks.
It's the Food Buddies project, fucking meal time feeding plates.
"That's exactly what I said," Minhyuk agrees. He can't drink this coffee ever since he found a fly in it. That's exactly what I said but it doesn't mean you have to do it. Keep them to yourself. Questions. All of them.
Give yourself the gift of Food Buddies. I personally guarantee your complete satisfaction!
"What about if we meet your parents?" Changkyun asked one time long ago, lifting his eyes off the The Daily Heat issue he was on the cover of so that Changkyun emerged from behind Changkyun. "What am I supposed to say then?"
Minhyuk was pitching a project. "That you left something at my place and that you're sorry to interrupt."
Endless cola refills: It's not over till I say it is.
Ten am, Minhyuk walks into the kitchen in a bathrobe and barefoot because the floor heating's on and there's someone in the kitchen who clearly isn't Changkyun.
Someone turns around. Yoo Kihyun.
"Sup," Minhyuk says.
Yoo Kihyun's in an elegant white shirt but it's not fully buttoned and it misses one button actually and it's all crumpled. He watches Minhyuk approach the fridge. He doesn't move. Only his eyes follow.
There's a water and ice dispenser built into the fridge and Minhyuk makes himself a drink. Why water and ice dispenser? Because hydration has an impact on your team's productivity and morale. He turns towards Kihyun.
"Why do I feel like you're more annoyed to see me in my own apartment than I am seeing you?" he asks. He takes a sip, starts chewing on ice.
"Is he still here?" Kihyun asks, just to make sure. The mysterious he. Must be Changkyun.
"Doesn't seem like it. I didn't find him in my bed this morning, that's for sure." More ice crunching. Where Kihyun's standing, his white shirt blends into the white marble countertop and where it's crumpled it matches the veins in the marble. Minhyuk thinks that Kihyun is hell of a lot like a white marble countertop. "From the sounds that I heard, though," Minhyuk continues, "I'd assume that it's you who's the last person to see him."
Kihyun winces, three seconds tops. "So he went to work."
Minhyuk pretends to look around. "It would seem so, indeed."
"Minhyuk."
"So how did it go?" Minhyuk leans with his one shoulder against the fridge, relaxing his muscles a bit, stretching himself like you do when you barely woke up. Where the white shirt ends, Kihyun's crumpled black suit pants start and they match the doors under the countertops. "Yes, I'm your pretty whore, treat me like the pretty whore I am. Milk my tits." Minhyuk takes a sip, looking Kihyun straight in the eyes. Kihyun, he looks increasingly scandalized. "He's one hell of a sick guy, huh?"
Kihyun's eyebrows go up, in surprise, then down, back into a frown, and he's thinking. "Listen," he starts all over again. "I'm sorry that I made you listen to this. I didn't know you were there."
"No, no. You misunderstand." Minhyuk tips his glass of water and ice in Kihyun's direction. "We like it this way. He likes it. I like it. Everyone enjoys it when Changkyun's having sex, alright? I have empirical data to support this statement. Big numbers."
"I know you're fuck buddies," Kihyun says like Minhyuk's words aren't all that important to him and he can easily go ahead and skip them. "I didn't know you lived together, though."
Minhyuk swallows an ice cube.
"Did Changkyun talk to you about me?" he asks. "Wow. I feel very distinguished."
What's great about marble is you can always sand it if it gets damaged. It's something you can't do with other materials.
When Changkyun comes back from somewhere, he appears as a shadow on the hallway wall and he's thrice his usual size and distorted. Then he comes closer, the shadow shrinks, and he's standing in the doorway. He knocks.
Last couple of weekends, Changkyun spent at Kihyun's or somewhere with Kihyun but Minhyuk didn't ask him where and didn't call him because why would he.
Minhyuk's lying in bed with his laptop opened, which he picked seconds after hearing the intercom beep to make himself look busy. But scripts is the last thing he's working on.
Changkyun looks very beautiful when he steps in, kind of ethereal even. He's hair is stylized and wavy, side parted, falling onto his one eye a bit. He's in the coat which is black and long. Some makeup is still on his face, which he probably didn't get removed after the photoshoot or maybe a fashion show after-party.
The screen of Minhyuk's laptop is the only source of light, lighting up Minhyuk's staring face, and then it goes black, and the only source of light is the streets outside the window, other windows with lights on in buildings around theirs.
Changkyun takes the coat off. Puts it aside. Half of his silhouette can be seen more distinctly than the other.
Neither of them says anything.
Sometimes Minhyuk thinks Changkyun's like one of those things that are easy to sell but hard to advertise.
Changkyun takes off his shirt and then pants and then what's under his pants. He's barefoot and naked when he climbs onto the bed and takes Minhyuk's laptop away. Minhyuk doesn't resist. There's a slight whiff of alcohol on Changkyun's breath so Minhyuk guesses it was an after-party after all. It's not a problem because Minhyuk's been drinking too. Before he heard the beep of the intercom and took the laptop to pretend to look busy, he put his glass to the dishwasher that has special wine stem holders.
"I told him that I love him," Changkyun says. Half of his face is seen better than the other, that side which is closer to the windows.
Minhyuk reaches for the nightside lamp, turns it on. Changkyun squints his eyes and blinks a couple of times. Then he refocuses his gaze and they're looking at each other again.
Then a long pause.
Changkyun removes Minhyuk's pants and underwear and the pause continues. He takes Minhyuk's cock into his hand, jerks it a few times to make it hard. Nothing difficult to achieve. He repositions himself, kneeling on Minhyuk's knees and looking rather small sized.
"I told him that I really want to spend my life with him," Changkyun says. Holding Minhyuk's cock, he slides it inside himself, half of it, with no effort and not much of a reaction on his face.
Minhyuk hums.
Changkyun slowly takes more of Minhyuk's cock until it's all in and he's sitting on Minhyuk, Minhyuk's pubes touching Changkyun's baby smooth ass.
"You did?" Minhyuk asks, like he didn't just hear it perfectly clear in the total silence of their eight room apartment on the fortieth floor.
"Yeah." Changkyun takes a moment to get used to the feeling of Minhyuk inside him, then places his both hands on Minhyuk's chest and lifts himself a little and drops back down. Minhyuk sighs, even though he tries not to. "I told him that I can't stop thinking about him."
Minhyuk narrows his eyes, blinks them very slowly. He's watching the expanse of Changkyun's chest, every muscle tensing when Changkyun lifts himself again and drops again. Changkyun's half-hard cock flaps against his stomach at the stronger drop. When his stomach tenses, veins appear below his belly button. "But I told him that I don't know if he'd ever want me."
Minhyuk hums. Up, down. Minhyuk's cock slips out and Changkyun puts it back in.
"Why wouldn't he want you?" Minhyuk asks.
"Because I'm such a slut."
Down. Changkyun's cock flaps and it's already leaking. Up and down onto Minhyuk's cock. Changkyun moans. "I told him that I slept with so many guys he can't even imagine."
"You did. You're such a whore for everybody. It's so embarrassing."
In one of the ads that Minhyuk pitches he tells his listeners, now imagine that the two cocktail bottles turn into hurricanes of galactic dust and then turn into two attractive men in underwear. He intended for the role of the Peach on the Beach to be played by Changkyun in blond when he was still, well, less known. They both approach the lady, and then the tag line is: Why choose when you can have both? "You get it?" he asked the bald men in suits. "Because you can mix and match and make your perfect drink."
Changkyun makes a loud moan and his voice cracks in the middle of it. He arches his back changing the position. His hands are now pressed against the mattress on either side of Minhyuk's knees. Changkyun's stomach hollows in. His chest is the complete five-week workout plan for an upcoming photoshoot. He's broad, big and sharp. When another shudder of pleasure runs through him, his whole body's shaking like he's very easy to break.
"So are you going to tell him?" Minhyuk has to remind Changkyun that they're currently having a conversation. He makes his best effort not to buck up, into Changkyun's tight ass, especially now that Changkyun is looking like this.
Changkyun blinks his eyes and they're all clouded, pupils blown. "Tell him what?"
"That you're a slut and you're ashamed of it?"
Changkyun blinks his eyes. "I have to."
"Are you going to ask him?" Minhyuk reaches up, puts his hands on either one of Changkyun's thighs, rubs his skin there, pets it. He touches Changkyun's cock and it spurs more precome and it's very pitiful.
"What do I have to ask him?" Changkyun asks, or more like pleads for Minhyuk to explain to him.
Minhyuk rubs circles into Changkyun's thighs. When Changkyun tries to lift himself and drop back down, Minhyuk presses his hands on Changkyun's both thighs and stops him. "If he could ever love a messed-up fuck like you are?"
Changkyun nods his head, very quickly. "I'll ask him," he says. He keeps trying to lift himself and drop down onto Minhyuk's cock but he can't. "I promise I'll ask him."
"Changkyun?"
Changkyun opens the eyes he's closed. Mr Nam's commercial that Changkyun took part in, one of the bald men in suits asked Changkyun if Changkyun could cry for them. That's what this one's about. It's about true feelings, sadness in particular. That's what this fragrance's about. Can he make true feelings on screen?
"Come back here," Minhyuk says, putting his hands on Changkyun's back and rubbing it. "Reposition. Flat on your back. Be good for me. Good boy."
Changkyun follows the order, not without occasional shaking. His ass is small and flat, legs look like they don't match the upper side of his body. Maybe it's because most of his photoshoots he takes part in are from the waist up. Minhyuk's cock slips back in and Minhyuk continues to hold Changkyun's hips still but now their faces are like centimeters apart and Changkyun's eyes are huge and make-up is smudged and his black hair's a halo around his head.
"Minhyuk," he says.
Minhyuk hums. His warm breath touches Changkyun's heated face. Changkyun's breathing is so shallow and irregular he can't close his mouth at all because he would run out of air.
"I love when you're doing this," Changkyun says in a low voice.
"Yeah?" Minhyuk's so turned on if he moved an inch he'd shoot his load immediately. "When I'm doing what?"
Changkyun shakes his head. Some hair strands fall into his eyes. He closes his eyes, opens them. Eyelashes are stuck together with sweat and tear. "Fuck," he pants out. "I don't know. Like, everything. I love it."
Minhyuk's using all of his willpower to stay still and to keep Changkyun still too. "So are you going to do this?"
Changkyun doesn't remember what this was all about. "Do what?"
"Talk to Yoo Kihyun."
Minhyuk leans closer, so close that Changkyun's cock becomes trapped between his stomach and Minhyuk's stomach and Changkyun hisses, biting his lower lip. Minhyuk's mouth finds itself somewhere in the area below Changkyun's jaw but not on his neck yet. He kisses Changkyun's skin. He bites his earlobe.
"Do you want me to?" Changkyun breathes out.
Minhyuk's holding Changkyun under his knees and they quiver. From the way Changkyun's body is tense and quivering, he's about to blow too. "New rules," Minhyuk says. "I don't want you to see men that I don't approve of first."
Changkyun's leaning over the washbasin.
He's wearing his bathrobe, which is tied around his waist but loosely. His makeup is removed, face freshly cleansed. His black hair is pulled back into a bun but with some strands still hanging on either side of his face, partially wet.
His figure occupies the mirror perfectly in the middle of it, with two sources of lights, each on either side of the mirror so that the skin of his face is evenly lit. There's no shadows, no wrinkles to see. Changkyun pumps two pea-sized doses of moisturizer which makes it together a cashew-sized amount of moisturizer and he spreads it in his hands and starts applying it in circular motions, first to his cheeks, then to his forehead and chin, finally rubbing it onto his neck too. His skin looks glowing. He looks sexual.
Changkyun lifts the container of his moisturizer and holds it by the side of his face in a way that allows you to clearly see the label. He changes his pose slightly in a way that lets the folds of his bathrobe part and reveal the strongly shaped breasts underneath. He smiles.
"Cut!" someone screams. "We got this."
Minhyuk claps from behind the crew and then everyone starts moving again and Changkyun can see Minhyuk.
"Such a good performance," someone says.
Foam is the ultimate party activity!