Sucker For You

by theproblematique

Summary:

Hyunjin tries out a new technique to help soothe his anxiety.

Notes:

I had so much fun writing this, I hope you enjoy reading it! As I have stated before, the day I don't give Hyunjin a specific fixation for Changbin's chest is the day you will know my body has been taken over!!

This fic exists in the same universe as Take It Easy in a vague and totally not plot-relevant way, absolutely stands alone without needing to read that fic to make sense of what's happening here! I just like grouping fics by theme, hence the 'series' 😊

I don't want to make light of anxiety by any means (especially as an anxiety-haver) but we are definitely not getting in the weeds of the condition here. There will be no overly detailed descriptions of anxiety, or any panic attacks to be found. This is plotless porn!

Details on the kink (SPOILERS)

- As tagged, it's tit-sucking: Hyunjin Pavlovs himself into sucking on Changbin's nipples to self-soothe and make himself feel better (and also he's just really into it).
- As you can imagine, terms relating to sucking get thrown around including 'nursing' and 'latching' etc. Sadly, due to being a healthy cis male Changbin does not produce any actual milk, but there are vague ~undertones of the kink
- In one instance, while mildly enebriated, Changbin nudges his nipple into Hyunjin's mouth to see if he'll suck him while asleep, and Hyunjin does. He wakes up shortly after, and neither of them have any issue with it
- Changbin... notices Hyunjin's feet a couple of times. That is all

“Don’t you think it’s funny that we’ve both been inside Felix?” Hyunjin asks him one drunken night.

Changbin blinks, shifting his focus from the scary movie on the television. The jump scares tend to make Chan, Felix and Jisung all squirmy and frightened, but he usually does pretty well with them. Hyunjin, similarly, isn’t one to startle much; he just drapes himself over Changbin and rests his head on Changbin’s shoulder or chest because he’s ‘more comfortable than a pillow’. At most he’ll hide his face in the valley between Changbin’s pecs.

“Uh. I guess?” he whispers back. Everyone is tipsy and probably a little bit horny after the alcohol Chan generously shared, so the subject matter isn’t insanely out of the blue, he supposes. Still: “What made you think of that?”

Hyunjin flicks his gaze pointedly to where Felix is sat in Chan’s lap on the other end of the couch, cradled sideways with a blanket strategically covering them. They are definitely grinding on each other when they think others aren’t looking; Felix adjusted himself during a jump-scare earlier and Chan has been half-dozing half-rocking his pelvis up into him since, jaw hanging open and lashes fluttering.

“How long do you think before our little club gets a third member?” Hyunjin smirks.

“Like, a day,” Changbin replies.

Hyunjin huffs a little laugh that sends his hot breath over Changbin’s shirt, right over his nipple. He’s sensitive there, so he feels a pulse of warmth in his groin at the sensation.

“Yeah.” Hyunjin nudges his forehead into Changbin’s chest, smile dragging along said nipple accidentally as he repositions himself. “I think you’re right.”

A few minutes later, it becomes clear that not only are both Chan and Felix asleep, but Hyunjin is nodding off also. Jeongin, sitting on the pouf on the floor, is paying rapt attention to the movie. Seungmin, Minho and Jisung are having some sort of strange turf war on the beanbag with each other, but Changbin feels the way Hyunjin is leaning the weight of his head on him change and he threads a hand through Hyunjin’s silky hair to hold him in place. He doesn’t mind it. It's nice, to be trusted.

Hyunjin snuffles happily on his chest for a little bit, slack mouth pressing into the curve of Changbin’s right pec, and then he wakes up during the next blast in volume from the television and tries to pretend he wasn’t sleeping, and that’s that.

All in all, a fairly uneventful Thursday.

*

They live together, is the thing.

They don’t hook up. A few months ago Changbin agreed to let Felix cockwarm him while he gamed, as a favor (and, well, because Felix is pretty), and he makes out with Minho when they go out sometimes, but him and Hyunjin haven’t crossed that threshold. They flirt all the time, and Changbin definitely would, but nothing physical has actually happened.

They have a special kind of comfortable friendship, and even though Hyunjin used to sleep with Felix back when they first met, he stopped once they became closer. Hyunjin doesn’t always do well separating his feelings from the physical stuff, usually picks one-night-stands over known entities for his no-strings-attached encounters, and Changbin never wanted to risk their friendship. It only got stronger after they became roommates, and Changbin considers Hyunjin to be his best friend. They moved in together less than a year ago, because Changbin’s parents own his apartment so he doesn’t have to pay rent, and Hyunjin had a dramatic break-up that led to him not having a place to stay, and it just made sense. Changbin’s apartment was too big for one person, anyway. Even with the amount of alone-time Hyunjin prefers, and the space he needed for his art (both literal and metaphorical), it worked. Works.

Changbin loves his beautiful best friend slash roommate, and he loves living with him.

It’s not always perfect. Hyunjin feeling things so deeply sometimes means that his coping mechanisms spill over into Changbin’s life, and not necessarily in constructive ways. They bicker, sometimes. Hyunjin gets tired of him, even though the reverse never happens, and Changbin finds himself missing him even when they are under the same roof. 

Sometimes, Hyunjin’s only way to destress seems to be having very, very loud sex with a stranger while Changbin lies in his bed across the hall from him. Changbin never begrudges him this, but Hyunjin gets very annoyed if Changbin brings someone home, so it’s a little hypocritical of him (Hyunjin gets annoyed if Changbin goes to the other person’s place, too, so Changbin’s options are limited either way).

It’s worth it, though. Having less casual sex is a small price to pay, in Changbin’s eyes. All of it feels like a smattering of cheap compromises, when his reward is getting to live with his favorite person.

“You okay, Hyunjin-ah?”

They are on the couch; another precious evening spent together, but Changbin can tell that Hyunjin is anxious. He has a gallery opening in two days, all pieces he had a part in choosing, and it’s the first time his supervisor let him take on such an involved role, including interfacing directly with the artist.

“Would it help you to... call someone?” Changbin presses, fearing for the integrity of Hyunjin’s fingernails. He just spent three hours hand-painting new checkerboard designs, and he’s been subconsciously gnawing on his thumb in a way that threatens the polish while he reads his novel.

“Like, a psychologist?” Hyunjin asks, glancing at him across the couch.

Changbin snorts. “Well, sure. But I meant call someone over.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen in comprehension, and then he flushes. “Ah.”

“...Seems like that helps you, sometimes.”

He nods. “It does. Sometimes.” He shrugs, a little put-upon. “Not always. I’m trying something new.”

The second he stops speaking, he’s back to putting his thumb in his mouth, so Changbin reaches over and grabs his wrist, showing him his own reddened, spit-slick hand.

“Ruining your nails?” he asks. “How is it going?”

Hyunjin tries to tug free, unsuccessfully.

“Hyunjin-ah. Come on.” Changbin tugs him in return, moving him with embarrassing (for Hyunjin) ease. As soon as Changbin pulls, Hyunjin loses his balance and falls face-first into his chest, huffing out a hot breath between Changbin’s pecs.

Changbin lets go of his wrists, but Hyunjin doesn’t move.

“What are you trying?” Changbin asks him.

Hyunjin shrugs, face still smushed against him. “I’m just not hooking up with random people,” he says, muffled.

“Okay.” That’s new. By Changbin’s estimation, the last time Hyunjin had sex was about a month ago. “How is it going?”

Changbin grabs the back of his neck in an attempt to pull him away, but Hyunjin shakes his head, slightly motorboating him. Accidentally, probably. He’s on top of Changbin in a sideways lean, so his long legs are still resting on the couch cushions beside him.

“Dunno. I’m a bit more tense, I guess?” Changbin mentally agrees. “And I have an oral fixation thing, so when I’m anxious it feels good to... do that.”

“Ruin your nails.”

“Suck on something.”

Changbin looks down at the top of Hyunjin’s head. Hyunjin’s face is still buried in his chest, his speech tickling the fabric of Changbin’s thin, loose shirt. He’s exhaling right onto it, warming Changbin’s skin.

“...Suck on something,” Changbin echoes. He's thinking about how Hyunjin never really bites down, when Changbin has watched him do it. It's more of a chewing, suckling motion.

“Yeah.”

Neither of them says anything more, or moves, for several beats. Changbin can’t deny that he. Well. Their positioning is rather suggestive. The word ‘suck’; the place Hyunjin’s mouth is pressed against. It makes him think of something fairly obvious.

“Okay I’m. M’gonna go to bed, I guess,” Hyunjin mumbles finally, pulling away.

Changbin lets him go, but he stays sitting on the couch for a while, heart beating a little faster than it should be. Thinking.

*

It doesn’t amount to anything for another little while.

Hyunjin’s gallery opening goes well, and he seems to have decided to hold steady on the strange new resolution to forego his one night stands. Unfortunately, new stressors do arrive—such is life. Family angst, new tension among the friend group (it’s always hard to tell whether Minho and Seungmin’s fights are real or just an analogue for flirting), other job hurdles... Due to the latter, Hyunjin sucks on his thumb so aggressively that he gets a little cut by the nail and has to wear a band-aid for a couple of days, which he is (a little disproportionately, in Changbin’s humble opinion) upset about.

“It’s interfering with my art,” he tells Changbin, again on the couch. Changbin was scrolling on his phone while Hyunjin read, as close to a routine they have together as Hyunjin will allow. They usually do parallel play before bedtime together.

“How?” Changbin asks, genuinely curious.

“It’s about the way I hold my paintbrush.” He huffs. “I’ll show you later, I’m just...” He adjusts his seat on the couch, looking uncomfortable; seeming uncomfortable. “Ugh. This is the worst. I’m. I don’t feel good.”

Changbin puts his phone aside, sitting forward and frowning. “Like, you’re sick, or...?”

Hyunjin shakes his head, his jaw ticking. Changbin can see the tension in the set of his shoulders, the lithe muscles bunched and contorted in his arms. His dear Hyunjin can look so relaxed, almost trance-like when he paints sometimes. Another one of his coping techniques—if the little bumpy band-aid is interfering with that, and Hyunjin’s strange self-imposed celibacy is still going strong, then no wonder things are getting worse.

“I’m. I feel.” He brings his unbandaged thumb up to his mouth, and that’s—no. That can’t be the solution.

Changbin leans into him and takes his hand by a skinny wrist, easy. “Come on, let’s talk about it.”

“I don’t wanna talk,” Hyunjin grunts, trying to wrest his hand back.

“Then let’s try something else!” Changbin pulls, but it’s not a wrestling match when Hyunjin is absolutely no match for him. Just as it happened last time, Hyunjin gets tugged forward and he falls into him. There’s a thump as his book lands on the floor, but Changbin is more distracted by Hyunjin’s body being partially on top of his again. It’s such a welcome weight, and Hyunjin always smells so nice.

“Ugh,” Hyunjin says into his shirt, pulling away quicker this time. He looks up at Changbin with a flush and a glare. “This isn’t helping.”

Changbin smiles down at him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders in the mockery of a cradle and rocking Hyunjin side to side.

It works in that Hyunjin’s glare softens, and a fondly exasperated look takes its place. “What is happening.”

“Is this helping?” Changbin asks, leaning down to maintain extra intense eye contact as he keeps rocking him back and forth.

It must be, because Hyunjin holds in a laugh for as long as he can (five seconds) before breaking into a giggle, his sweet-smelling breath fanning over Changbin’s face.

“Am I a baby?” he chuckles, punching Changbin in the chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m not hearing no!” Changbin cries victoriously, tightening his grip to bring Hyunjin up towards him and further bundle him in his arms. His hold squeezes Hyunjin’s upper arms to his torso, but Hyunjin is laughing at him now, and doesn’t seem bothered by the proximity like this. He never is, when Changbin hugs him.

Maybe he can hug Hyunjin’s stress away, Changbin thinks happily.

*

Of course, the first time it actually happens is when they are tipsy.

Changbin doesn’t know if it’s because they are drunk. Or just. Circumstantial. He’s not really engaging enough brain-cells to make that call in the moment, either way.

Hyunjin started it—he brought out the soju after they got home from another Thursday movie-night at Chan’s and suggested they ‘keep it going’. Changbin didn’t have much to drink earlier, so he’s got some room to go before things get sloppy or excessive, plus the suggestion comes with spending more time with Hyunjin, so he’s happy to agree. He loves being around his best friend. He loves Hyunjin so much. As a friend. Who he would totally sleep with. And live with forever. And marry, just for the excuse of throwing a party with all their favorite people to celebrate their love.

They put another movie on, a rom-com because Hyunjin prefers them to horror, and Changbin prefers whatever Hyunjin wants. The leads are both really hot, so a dumb debate about whether they’d rather sleep with the man or the woman leads to them drinking more, and everything feels funny and warm and good, being safe at home and pleasantly drunk next to the best person in Changbin’s life. He glances at Hyunjin to tell him, because he’s not the kind of person to keep this feeling to himself—and catches him.

“Hey! What did we say about your nails!”

He grabs Hyunjin’s wrist again, pulling his fingers out of his mouth a little harder than he might have if he was fully within his faculties, but Hyunjin can take it.

“Hyung!” he groans, letting Changbin manhandle him into that sideways position again, one arm around Hyunjin’s shoulders in a way that restricts his upper arms and immobilizes him. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I forgot!”

Changbin tuts down at him, hoping his thumping heart isn’t too loud in Hyunjin’s ear, positioned as he is against his chest to hear the giveaway. “Something making you anxious, baby?” he asks, trying to mask the real concern.

Hyunjin sighs, turning his face more into Changbin’s torso to hide. “It’s. I don’t know,” he mumbles. He grazes Changbin’s right nipple with his mouth for an electrifying moment, but Changbin forces himself to stay present. Hyunjin’s mind works in ways he doesn’t always relate to, but he really wants to understand. “Sometimes I feel like this without a clear reason,” Hyunjin adds. His eyes are closed.

“Hm.” Changbin rocks him a little, minute movements that aren’t meant for exaggerated comedic effect like how he did it last time. He doesn’t even decide to do it consciously, it just feels right to try. “I’m sorry.”

Hyunjin shrugs, which slides Changbin’s arm up a little so that it’s moreso bracing the back of his neck, as opposed to his shoulders.

“Comes with the pretty package,” he sighs, mouth twitching into a smile at the corners.

Changbin doesn’t like the idea of Hyunjin having to ‘pay’ for his supernatural looks by having a mental health setback, but he figures now is not the time to open that can of worms. “Pretty is an understatement for you,” he says instead.

Hyunjin fully grins, though his eyes are still closed and he nuzzles even further into Changbin’s chest, burrowing in there to conceal the expression.

Changbin holds him closer. He was right, about hugs being helpful to Hyunjin. Maybe this different kind of skinship will be a crutch for now, even if it’s a poor substitute for whatever it was that made Hyunjin moan so loudly when he had people over.

They don’t say anything more for a while; the movie plays on, Changbin idly watching while he cradles Hyunjin to his chest and intermittently rocks him gently, and Hyunjin fully tucked into him, breathing slowing, features relaxing. The way his head eventually gets heavier, and the weight of his upper body slackens, tell Changbin that he’s fallen asleep.

Changbin feels a sense of warm satisfaction start up in his stomach, filling him up. He helped Hyunjin relax enough that he was able to knock out, that must mean he’s doing an awesome job at this comforting thing. He smiles down at Hyunjin again, his stupidly gorgeous features, his trusting weight. One of Hyunjin’s hands is curled up between their bodies, so vulnerable, so sweet. His nails, for now, remain intact.

It’s as he watches him, full of love and warmth and feeling so grateful for their beautiful friendship, that Changbin sees Hyunjin’s mouth move.

At first, he thinks he’s about to sleep talk, which would be so adorable—Changbin didn’t know Hyunjin did that. But it’s not that. Hyunjin’s chin tips into the plush give of Changbin’s chest, his nose slightly smushed against it, and then he parts his lips and makes a... a sucking motion.

He gets some of Changbin’s skin-warmed shirt with the gesture, and he snuffles sleepily and a small noise ekes out of his throat. Even as Changbin stares, he does it again; he pouts a little, smacks his lips, and then starts mouthing at the fabric that covers Changbin’s pec.

What the fuck.

Hyunjin makes the little airy noise again and, apparently still totally unconscious, starts clumsily nosing around until he finds a place to latch. His tongue gets involved; hot, wet, warm through the shirt and swirling around Changbin’s nipple, the suction getting tighter, better as Changbin’s nipple hardens in response and likely provides a firmer target. The sounds coming from Hyunjin aren’t at all like the wanton moans Changbin used to hear through the walls; they are low hums, breathy, barely audible. He sounds content. His forehead is clear, relaxed, his cheeks hectic red and sweat already building at his hairline, but Changbin has never seen him look more serene.

He watches, transfixed, as Hyunjin’s free hand slides between his legs, thighs squeezing around it as he keeps sucking, noises getting higher in pitch but also quieter, more desperate in their silence. Is he hard? Hyunjin's socked toes are pointed, digging into the cushion. The low lighting makes it hard to see, but the way Hyunjin’s knees are pressing together makes Changbin think... is Changbin thinking? Is he capable of that right now? He’s hard. He’s so fucking hard that it hurts, and he needs to adjust his seat, but he’s worried he’s going to dislodge Hyunjin and break the seal—

“Mm-mh,” Hyunjin twitches, whole-body, and opens his eyes.

Changbin makes immediate eye-contact with him, the both of them suddenly frozen.

Hyunjin exhales, and jerks his head back. He can’t go far because Changbin is still holding him, but he lets go of his nipple, leaving an incriminating spit-darkened stain behind on the pink (now magenta) fabric.

“Uh.” He’s blinking, breathing shallowly. Tense, again; no longer that sweetly relaxed form he was. Changbin mourns the way the looked with a pang he can’t examine right now. “Wh. What did I.”

Changbin takes the opportunity to adjust his seating, making a touch more space for his erection. He is holding Hyunjin up to his chest so it won’t touch his lower back; he just can’t drop him.

“Fell asleep?” he says to him, kindly.

Hyunjin’s eyes are wide, his whole body braced in a way like he’s expecting Changbin to yell at him, or punish him, even though Changbin has never done such a thing.

“Y-yeah. Was I...?” his gaze flickers to the wet spot he left behind, the outline of Changbin’s nipple poking through the fabric. Obvious. “Did. I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay,” Changbin says. The question Hyunjin hasn’t asked yet, why didn’t you stop me, must surely be coming next. “You looked so relaxed,” he adds. An answer? Not really. A justification? Perhaps. It feels like an excuse.

“I... was.”

They keep staring at each other. Hyunjin wets his lips with a quick dart of his tongue, and Changbin stares at that too. There’s a reason Hyunjin’s mouth is like, a recurring theme in the friend-group’s jokes. It’s obscene.

“I didn’t mind it,” Changbin hears himself say. “Felt nice.”

Hyunjin keeps staring at him.

Changbin wonders if he’s questioning his roommate’s sanity right about now.

“I just mean, don’t feel bad about it. It’s. It was. Good. You looked so at peace,” there’s that excuse again. “So sweet. It was. I don’t know, it was good.”

Hyunjin inhales shallowly, and holds it. “It felt. Nice. For me.”

Changbin nods. “Great. Glad you... okay.”

This is definitely the most stilted conversation they’ve ever had. No matter what goes on around them, they are never awkward with each other.

“Sorry,” Hyunjin adds. “I didn’t realize.”

“S’okay, you were asleep. Better me than your nails, hm?”

At that, Hyunjin finally sits up, and Changbin lets him go to let him. He watches the way Hyunjin curls over his own legs, angled in a way where Changbin can’t check to see if Hyunjin was as turned on as he was. It gives him the room to bend his knees and hide, too.

“Okay. I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Sounds good. Good night, Hyunjin-ah.”

Hyunjin nods and gets up. “Good night, hyung.” And he walks the long way around the couch to go to his room, which still conceals his groin from Changbin’s eyes, and which feels like an answer to his question.

*

Changbin fists his cock to memories of Hyunjin sucking his chest every night after that one, and he doesn’t know how to gently suggest that they do it again without making it seem like the come on that it definitely is.

Lucky for him, the opportunity re-presents itself just a few days later.

“I feel bad,” Hyunjin grits out one evening, shutting the front door behind him.

Changbin was lying on the couch, but he scrambles to sit up at those words. “What’s wrong?” he frowns.

He’s not even thinking about Hyunjin’s mouth on his nipple anymore; he’s worried about this up-front admission. Hyunjin definitely went back to his nails the past few days, ruining the cute flowery design he’d drawn in record time.

“Tell me, Hyunjin-ah,” he says, following Hyunjin’s movements as he sheds his winter jacket, toes off his shoes, pads into the living room with undeniable tension in his every joint. “Please?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Hyunjin says, slumping down on the couch—in a way that puts his head in Changbin’s lap, the rest of him lying on the long cushions. He almost fits all the way longitudinally, just has to bend his knees a little or raise his legs to rest his ankles on the other arm; socked feet up in the air. Changbin bought it expressly for him, right after he moved in. “Here.”

He presents his wrists for grabbing, which makes Changbin’s brain short-circuit a little bit. He takes them in one hand, not gripping too tight. “You wanna bite them?” he asks, proud of Hyunjin for recognizing the urge and fighting it.

Hyunjin nods, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah.” He huffs. “You gotta stop me or I’ll do it.”

Changbin is happy to do that. The fact that his nipples tightened and perked up is not... anything. His shirt has a wide scoop-neck tonight; it’s old and worn, he thought about it before putting it on, but now it feels obvious. Revealing in more ways than one, to be wearing it.

“Can we watch a movie or something?” Hyunjin asks.

“Sure!” Changbin grabs the remote with his free hand, turning the television on and letting Hyunjin tell him which streaming service he wants, then picking out something with a title and a thumbnail that appeals to him. Changbin presses play at his request, and settles in to watch another rom-com.

Instead of turning towards the screen, though, Hyunjin shifts the other way. Into Changbin, his back to the television.

Changbin hesitates, unsure as to how to proceed. He wants to explicitly ask something, but he doesn’t know what—even the phrasing of the question escapes him. He wants to soothe Hyunjin, to smooth over the worry-wrinkles furrowing his brow, the hunch of his shoulders. He remembers, so vividly, how Hyunjin had looked that night, and wants that back.

“Can you raise the volume?” Hyunjin asks, face in Changbin’s stomach.

“Sure, baby.” Changbin does, and as he leans slightly forward to aim the remote again Hyunjin grabs the gaping neck of his shirt.

Changbin’s stomach flips, the anticipation making him feel crazy. The lightest of tugs brings the cloth down, revealing his chest, his heavy pecs so apparent because of the way he’s breathing, probably, and the slight lean forward. Gravity, and all.

Hyunjin’s face is beet-red; they left the lights on, there’s no concealment here.

“Is this weird?” Hyunjin mumbles, looking at the skin he is exposing, not at Changbin’s face. He seems... transfixed by the sight, as opposted to just avoiding. His gaze is hungry. Focused. "It's weird, right?"

Changbin is blushing too, without a doubt. “Um. Maybe? But I don’t care.”

“Are you sure?”

He shrugs. “Yeah.”

Hyunjin leans up and Changbin’s arm comes around him naturally, instinctually; a support for his upper body as he reaches to put his mouth on Changbin’s pec, tongue-first. He’s not hesitant; once he has Changbin’s permission he dives right in, making a low noise of satisfaction as he starts to suck, and Changbin holds him against his chest and feels a rush of blood towards his dick.

He watches Hyunjin’s face relax, sees, again, how the tension bleeds out of him and feels the way Hyunjin lets him support the weight of his upper body with his arm. It feels fucking heavenly—Changbin is fully hard within a minute, and he has to stop his hips from hitching or thrusting into the air. He’s always had sensitive nipples, but this is... something else. The sensation combined with the visual, Hyunjin’s face... and Hyunjin isn’t hurried about it, or too rough. He even takes breaks from the rhythmic sucking motion to nuzzle at it, or just breathe on it, before he goes back with a relieved little noise, so soft and grateful.

Changbin feels a surge of something that mixes protectiveness with boiling arousal and desire and love and gratitude of his own, and he lets Hyunjin keep going until he seems to relax so much that he falls asleep, slack-jawed and satisfied-looking, against Changbin’s bare chest.

Changbin lets him nap until the point where his arms get sore from holding Hyunjin up, which is a long time. It really makes him grateful for the time he spends at the gym; to have such a specific application for the muscles he cultivates. Let Minho rag him for having ‘vanity muscles only’ next time.

When Hyunjin wakes, he’s bashful and embarrassed, but not overtly regretful. He slinks away to his room right away, and Changbin gives himself a few beats before moving to his own.

His right nipple is kind of sore.

*

It’s scarily easy, to fall into something of a routine after that.

There isn’t a set time of day where it happens, though the movie-after-a-movie night does become a weekly fixture, but Hyunjin seeks him out at other moments too. He's shy about it, and never verbalizes the request, instead positioning himself in such a way that it makes it obvious, or starting to tug Changbin’s shirt up without meeting his eye until Changbin gets the idea and nods, or says: “You need it again?” feeling insane about what they are talking about, but never wanting to shame his darling Hyunjin about it.

Whatever helps Hyunjin makes Changbin happy, and this is... unconventional, for sure, and strange, but it’s working. Changbin gets to see the evidence for himself; Hyunjin truly lets go of his worries during their little sessions, becoming mindless and totally relaxed. Soothed, even. And Changbin is providing it. He’s turning to Changbin for that comfort, no one else.

It feels good, to be the source. To provide.

*

Changbin works from home a lot, his presence at the recording studio is sporadic and usually matched with Hyunjin’s shifts so that they are away at the same time, so he can be available and present when Hyunjin needs him. He did this on purpose even before they started whatever it is that they are doing, so that doesn’t change.

A couple of weeks after the new routine develops, Hyunjin finds him in the third bedroom in his overlarge apartment. Changbin converted the room into his home office, and he’s actively working when Hyunjin walks in.

“Had a bad day at work,” Hyunjin mutters, and strides over to get on his knees between Changbin’s legs, positioned between him and the desk.

“Uh, what—”

The bottom of his tee gets lifted up and Hyunjin ducks inside of it, leaving it over his head as he blindly seeks Changbin’s chest underneath. They’ve never done this here.

“Hyunjin, I’m, we can move to—”

“S’fine, just need a minute,” Hyunjin breathes, muffled, and sighs right before licking over Changbin’s soft left nipple, hardening it to a peak immediately. “Ah.”

Changbin is hardening in other ways, and having Hyunjin between his thighs is. Well. It’s not. Hyunjin's bare feet are splayed behind him, soles peeking out from the ends of his jeans. None of it. Helping.

“C’n you keep working?” Hyunjin slurs, then goes back to sucking, rather aggressively this time. “Mh, jus’, need a lil’ more, m’kay?” He switches pecs, a moving shape under Changbin’s shirt that he can’t see, and Changbin can’t see his laptop screen either, can’t concentrate on the lyrical review he was conducting, can’t do anything but slump back against his chair and try not to hump the air. “Ah.”

This noisier, wetter version of their routine has Changbin’s eyes rolling back; fighting the urge to push Hyunjin’s head in, the desire to bury his hand in Hyunjin’s hair and shove his chest into that perfect suction in counterpoint, fuck, he—

“Mh,” Hyunjin gasps, going back to the original side, and Changbin feels a trail of spit from one nipple to the other, and he almost moans aloud. Oh God. This is too much. It’s—he’s sensitive. He’s extra sensitive lately, because of what Hyunjin’s been doing, and today is—he’s getting positively abused, the pleasure spiking, dangerously high, he’s sweating, he can feel Hyunjin sweating in the overheated space under his shirt, the noises are obscene, the pressure—

His computer dings.

Hyunjin jerks back, as far as he is able within the confines of the shirt (it’s oversize, but not that big). Changbin picks up his head from where it had lolled back onto the headrest, and he tries to blink rapidly and focus his gaze, make sure his flushed cheeks and droopy eyes aren’t too apparent—

Hyunjin emerges from inside his shirt, sitting back on his butt with his knees bent, panting up at him, and then he scrambles away. “Thanks, hyung!”

Changbin’s gaze went straight to his crotch, and this time he thinks he sees a bulge to match his own at the front of Hyunjin’s jeans.

Fuck.

*

Another Thursday, another tipsy second movie at home, just them; just the volume turned up and Hyunjin lying across the couch with his face buried in Changbin’s chest. He alternated nipples again tonight, moving from one to the other after a while, and Changbin is torn between never wanting to leave his seat and fantasizing about getting to jerk off and come, his erection rubbing against the inside of his sweatpants with every twitch.

After the halfway point in a plot neither of them is paying attention to, Hyunjin gets so relaxed that he falls asleep; his sucking movements losing coordination, mouth eventually going slack. He ends up lightly snoring into Changbin’s pec, cheek smushed against it.

Changbin cradles him and watches, heart thumping, shirt rucked up around his armpits and his exposed nipple cooling as Hyunjin’s spit dries on it. Hyunjin looks blissed out. Happy. Totally relaxed and angelic.

Changbin remembers their first time; when Hyunjin had blindly nuzzled into him in sleep, mouthing and seeking out his nipple out of some instinctive desire that had transcended consciousness.

He hears a weird ringing in his ears, watching Hyunjin’s deep, peaceful breaths against him. He wonders if...

His brown nipple brushes Hyunjin’s lower lip, a feather-light caress, and Hyunjin’s breathing doesn’t change, his features remain slack and open, his mouth lightly parted. The sensation of his hot breath directly fanning over Changbin’s chest has Changbin twitching in his boxers, so hard he’s leaking. He’s a little drunk, but not crazy. He’s just—he’s so fucking hard, and he’s... curious.

Changbin gently, slowly repositions the arm cradling Hyunjin’s head so that Hyunjin is better angled to resume his ministrations, if he wants. It tips Hyunjin's head sideways just a little, making it so that it’s not his cheek that’s pressed into Changbin’s pec, but his mouth more directly.

Changbin’s nipple brushes against Hyunjin’s lips again, after the adjustment, and—fuck. Fuck. Hyunjin seems to sense the stimulation this time, because he licks, first, and then he latches on and goes back to sucking. Still fast asleep.

Changbin stifles a groan, hips shifting as his dick twitches heavily, leaking steadily now, the damp patch in his underwear growing. Fuck, he’s never come just from nipple stimulation, but... he might? Is he about to come untouched?

He brings his free hand up to Hyunjin’s head, brushing some of his hair back off his forehead, wanting to see as much of him as possible. He should stop offering to dim the lights before they do this; it’s better to see him. The lazy licks and sucks that make Hyunjin’s jaw work, his lips purse, his cheekbones stand out. The way his lashes flutter in bliss, the soft snuffles of happy, pleased noises, the image of his socked toes curling against the couch cushion. Changbin wishes Hyunjin would tell him what ails him, so that he could support him in all ways, but he is so glad they found a way for him to help. Truly, he is.

When Hyunjin opens his eyes a few minutes later, he doesn’t stop what he’s doing, just briefly meets Changbin’s gaze and goes back to gently sucking, an obscene rhythmic noise accompanying it. He looks zoned out, entranced. Like when he’s painting.

*

Escalation is, perhaps, inevitable.

They go out with Felix and Jisung, just for drinks around the corner from the apartment, and Changbin wears a nice shirt. A black button-up he happens to think looks pretty good on him, if he does say so himself—and if he unbuttons it just one notch below decency, well. It’s not like he’s thinking about tempting Hyunjin, or something equally stupid. Everyone knows Hyunjin likes chests (Jisung, particularly) and if it draws the eye, then great. It’s not like Changbin expects anything particular to happen after the bar. Hyunjin is in a good mood today, doesn’t seem all that anxious. He won’t need Changbin’s help tonight.

They meet in the living room to go out; Changbin already has his coat and shoes on, because Hyunjin takes longer than he does in getting ready, so he’s waiting for him. When Hyunjin comes out of his room wearing red lipstick and his hair slicked back, Changbin does a bit of a double-take, and doesn’t try to hide it.

“What?” Hyunjin asks, but he’s already smiling in anticipation.

“You look too hot for the bar,” Changbin says.

Hyunjin flushes, shrugs. They go anyway, and the moment they are spotted by their friends, Felix and Jisung both wolf-whistle.

“Why are you both overdressed?” Jisung cries, motioning to his own sweater. “It’s the bar!”

Changbin laughs and sheds his jacket, tossing it over the back of his chair, at which point Felix makes a cry of appreciation.

“Holy shit, hyung!”

Immediately, his insistent little hands are on Changbin’s biceps, which admittedly strain and tug at the sleeve after the pump from his evening gym session.

Jisung checks for himself too, eyes wide with admiration, and Changbin glances at Hyunjin to see if—

Hyunjin is scowling at the bartender, trying to get his attention.

Ah.

The night doesn’t get much better—the other two are happy to gossip with him, but Hyunjin is surly, mood seemingly soured in an instant, and Changbin is... confused. He was hoping for a corresponding double-take, or some mutual admiration, maybe that flushed little giggle Hyunjin gets when he thinks someone is good-looking, but he gets... nothing. Barely any interaction from his best friend.

They walk home early after cutting the night short, Changbin quiet and hurt, Hyunjin quiet and clearly angry.

Changbin waits until they are past the front door of the apartment to ask, voice wavering: “Hyunjin-ah, did I do something wro—”

Hyunjin rounds on him, shoving him against the closed door.

“Can I,” he says, impatiently opening up Changbin’s jacket and scrabbling with the buttons, exposing his shirt, sighing when he sees it. “Fuck. Need it, ‘kay? Gonna,” he mutters, and dives in.

Changbin gasps, the sideways tug of fabric baring his nipple to the air before Hyunjin is closing his lips around it, making a noise of guttural pleasure as soon as he does. Immediately, Hyunjin sucks harder, and his other hand slides up to grope blindly at Changbin’s chest, finding his other pec and squeezing.

“H-Hyunjin-ah, what—”

“Mm-hm,” Hyunjin hums, nonsensical, and the hand that was groping Changbin’s free pec paws at his shirt until he can get to the next button, and the next, until Changbin’s shirt is hanging open and Hyunjin is bent over his chest, frantic, an energy to him that Changbin finds deeply confusing.

“Ah, wait, gimme—” He pulls Changbin away from the door, making him stumble on their recently discarded shoes, and leads him to the couch but sits down before him. “Here,” he says, eyes feverish, sweat dripping down his temples.

He’s pointing to his lap.

“What do I—”

Changbin’s speed is apparently not fast enough, because Hyunjin grabs the backs of his knees and topples him onto him, seating him on his groin where—shit, an obvious erection is digging into Changbin’s ass, and Hyunjin whimpers and puts his arms around Changbin’s waist to draw him in, burying his face in his chest right away.

“Love your tits,” he mumbles in between sucks. “Fuckin’ tease. Don’t. Can’t do that t’me.”

Changbin opens his mouth to moan quietly into the air, resting his cheek on the top of Hyunjin’s head as they rock together.

“What’s. What are we.”

“Fuck,” Hyunjin whimpers. “I don’t know. I. I need.” He rolls his pelvis into Changbin, his erection feels huge and rock-hard. “Hyung. Fuck.” He’s whining, not relaxed, not calm, sounding so needy, and Changbin wants to soothe him again, to help, but he’s so off-kilter and turned on himself, the one beer Hyunjin’s sour mood led him to drinking sloshing uncomfortably in his belly.

“Baby, shh, it’s okay,” he tries, kissing the top of Hyunjin’s scalp, running his hands up and down his back. “I’ve got you, it’s okay, shh.”

Hyunjin is thrusting up into him, keeping his face attached to Changbin’s left nipple as he speeds up, their height difference putting him at the perfect level to do it.

“Ah, hyung,” he slurs. “Ah. Mh. Mm.”

Changbin grinds down into him, arching his back, and Hyunjin makes a small, reedy little noise against him and suddenly stills.

The heat of him coming is apparent even through the fabric of their clothes.

Changbin leans away to watch his face, not wanting to miss it, but Hyunjin makes a distressed whine and lunges forward to go back to what he was doing, licking him and gnawing at the sensitive skin as he comes for what feels like a long, brutal amount of time.

Changbin tilts his head to the side to watch, in the end, to bask in the way the tension melts out of Hyunjin’s features as he comes down. His sudden orgasm seems to have been the key to cracking tonight’s particular brand of angst; gone is the distress, the frantic need. Hyunjin slowly unwinds in the afterglow, sweat making him shine, his spit-slick lips drooling a little trail down his chin as he keeps sucking, his forehead clear. He left smears of red lipstick all over Changbin's chest.

It’s this, seeing him so blissed out, that makes Changbin release into his underwear.

His head falls forward, hanging off a gelatinous neck, and his dick twitches against nothing, no pressure or touch, just the image of Hyunjin sparking behind his eyelids as the orgasm makes his spine twitch and his pelvis jerk. He pants through it, mouth parted in a silent shout, and he keeps caressing Hyunjin throughout, hoping he won’t notice.

Eventually, Hyunjin leans back against the couch cushions and Changbin’s arms come up around his neck, so he can bury his face into Hyunjin’s shoulder. They breathe in silence together, minutes passing while Changbin’s rabbity heart-beat tries to slow down.

“You okay?” he asks Hyunjin finally, quiet.

He feels him nod. “Better. Yeah.” There’s a long pause, and then a deep sigh. “I think. If we’re gonna be out, can you cover up a little next time?”

Changbin tenses, and then snorts. “What?”

Hyunjin huffs out a little giggle. “This... habit. And you showing them off like that. It was making me want to... um. Do that in public.”

His stomach flips with delight, and he sits up to look at him. “Hyunjin-ah!”

“What—I had a... Pavlovian response!" Hyunjin retorts, bringing up a hand to dramatically cover his face. "I almost drooled into my beer!”

Changbin starts laughing fully, shaking against him, and he can see and feel that Hyunjin is laughing too.

“That’s so funny!”

“Shut up, it’s embarrassing!”

“My baby! You’re so cute!”

“Shut up!”

*

After breaking the seal, so to speak, it’s not so rare that the session will end with one or both of them coming.

Hyunjin usually does.

Changbin will hold him up against his chest while Hyunjin adopts his now-usual sideways lie on the couch and get to watch as Hyunjin’s hand sneaks down to rub at his groin, lazy and pleasurable, making himself feel good while Changbin takes care of him. It’s a feast for the eyes; Hyunjin’s face, Hyunjin’s body, the little sighs and whimpers Hyunjin will let slip out when he touches himself. That moment when it all culminates, and Changbin gets to watch, breathless, as Hyunjin lets it all go, is his favorite.

One night, Hyunjin slides the hand under his pants and jerks himself off skin to skin, offering Changbin a little peek of the tacky wet head of his pretty dick until he hums and comes, painting his stomach with it and making Changbin ache.

Another night, he flips over and humps the couch cushions while sucking Changbin’s chest, getting so into it by the end that he shoves Changbin’s pecs together and buries his face between them, licking the sweat there while he comes because all he can do is pant and sigh.

It’s so good. Changbin’s routine at the gym takes on a special focus, and his pecs are sore, but he’s really pleased with the results. He wears tighter shirts around the house, catches Hyunjin ogling him over and over, makes Hyunjin drop a mug by stretching his arms back, makes him drop a bowl by coming out of the shower shirtless. He's more aware of how prominent and heavy his pecs look than ever, but he loves it.

He thinks the soothing routine is beneficial for him too; to be of use makes him feel good, to be the cause of Hyunjin’s increasing happiness has always been his favorite. It’s why he loves making him laugh and playing up their flirting, why he loves spending time with him, caring for him, supporting him, loving him.

As. As a friend.

Right?

*

Right?!

*

“This can’t be news to you,” Seungmin says, skeptical, from across the table at the cafe. “Even you’re not that stupid.”

He sounds pitying, and Changbin goes home from their friend date with his head spinning.

*

Changbin hasn’t been on a date since they moved in together. He stopped having one night stands about a month in, because Hyunjin made his displeasure evident, and then he just sort of... waited.

Waited for what? For Hyunjin? For himself?

Why is Hyunjin under self-imposed celibacy? Why is Changbin? To the point of coming untouched from nipple stimulation because he’s so into his best friend and roommate?

“Hey... why did you decide to stop having sex?” Changbin asks him one evening, on the way back from dinner with Minho and Jeongin.

Hyunjin whips his head sideways to look at him. They are walking down the sidewalk; the night dark, the streetlamps little silos of too-far apart illumination. They decided to take a winter stroll because they were rameyon-warm and happily full from the rastaurant, but they already made it to their neighborhood, close to their place. At this point, the nightly chill has drawn Hyunjin close to him; both of them with jackets tight around them, bodies sharing warmth.

“I told you. I was trying something.”

Changbin nods. He ponders, again, the loud moans, the noises Hyunjin made when he brought someone over, how explicit and obvious they were compared to what Changbin has experienced. Yes, Hyunjin has had a mouthful in the way most of the times they’ve been together, but still there has been no doubt his pleasure has been real.

In Changbin’s memory, the moans he overheard become performative. Exaggerated. Surely that’s not what happened, but he feels like he’s misremembering the sincerity in Hyunjin’s voice. As if he was only being loud enough for Changbin to hear; as if it was about or for Changbin, somehow.

When they get home, Hyunjin’s hands make quick work of Changbin’s shirt, tugging it up his torso to expose his chest without taking it off all the way. He doesn’t even ask this time; he’s become more assured, as time passes, weeks turned to a couple of months of this thing Changbin never ever denies him or shames him for.

His fingers are cold, but his mouth is so, so warm.

*

One night, Changbin wakes to a creaking sound and has the initial, horrible thought that Hyunjin brought someone over. It sinks like a stone in his stomach, makes something inside twist with disappointment, and it’s not until he hears a soft knock on his own bedroom door that he realizes he made it all up in his head.

It’s just him and Hyunjin, and their home. No unwanted others.

“Hey,” he croaks, sitting up. “Baby, hey, everything okay?”

Hyunjin pads inside, just in a shirt and boxers, and climbs into bed with him.

He’s never done that before.

“Hyunjinnie?”

Hyunjin didn’t turn the lights on, so Changbin sees him advance as a lump and feels, more than anything, how Hyunjin lays himself down next to him in one long line.

The words come out before he can think to filter them: “Did you have a nightmare, baby?”

Hyunjin sighs and tugs the neck of Changbin’s shirt down—it’s the boat-neck loose one that Changbin had worn that first time, though not purposefully tonight. It’s so soft and well-worn, he does love it for himself, too.

“It was your wedding day,” Hyunjin mutters, positioning himself a little over him so that he has easy access. “I was your best man.”

Changbin waits for the horror, the punchline: and then a monster came, or and then our friends got hurt, but Hyunjin doesn’t elaborate further. He makes a relieved noise and starts pacifying himself with Changbin’s chest, and this time that’s where it stays. Neither of them get off, Changbin just circles him with his arm, and Hyunjin just melts against him, entering that state of Zen he seems to only achieve by doing this these days.

Changbin falls asleep first, this time, but at some point he wakes to Hyunjin lightly snoring on his chest, pillowed by it as he claims comfort in.

Hyunjin is gone in the morning.

*

They don’t talk about what happened, or what it meant, or what Hyunjin’s nightmare meant, all day. Granted, it’s a Thursday, so Hyunjin left for work by nine and Changbin spent a few hours in the studio with Chan, but he came back to Hyunjin painting in his room behind a closed door. Their first interaction is in the kitchen in the evening; Changbin there to refill his water, Hyunjin looking like he got caught reaching for the cookie jar when he realizes he’s not alone.

“Hey.”

“Hey." Hyunjin hugs himself, shoulders slumping. "Can we skip movie night with the others tonight?” he asks.

They wouldn’t have to leave for Chan’s until an hour from now, but Changbin was already looking forward to what tends to happen when they return.

“...What’s wrong?”

Hyunjin loves movie night. He loves seeing the others, and he may not express it well outright but Changbin knows that those nights are precious to him.

“I’m just feeling off.”

“Oh?”

No matter how many times that kind of statement is followed by a mind-blowing orgasm, Changbin still can’t get excited when he hears the words. He steps to Hyunjin with concern, ducking his head to force him to meet his eyes.

“What is it, baby?” He puts a hand under Hyunjin’s chin, capturing it in his palm. “You’ve had so much on your mind these past couple of months. Did something happen? Is it work?” He remembers the obvious. “Did you not get good sleep last night? Your nightmare?”

Hyunjin’s jaw works for a moment, and then he surprises Changbin by looking at him with wet eyes.

“Baby—" Changbin says, dismayed, and quickly gathers Hyunjin in a hug, right there in the kitchen. “Hey, what is it? Please, I know you keep saying you don’t want to talk but—"

“It’s you.”

Changbin cuts himself off.

He doesn’t move for a moment, processing. Did he mishear? He thought he was helping Hyunjin. For all his jokes, Hyunjin loves him, of this Changbin is certain. Surely he would have told him—

“It’s... wanting you,” Hyunjin sighs wetly, face buried in Changbin’s shoulder. He sounds utterly defeated. “It makes me sad.”

Changbin pulls back to look at him, cradling his face in his hands.

“You have me, Hyunjin-ah.”

Hyunjin sighs. He looks pretty always, but crying puffs up his face and creases it, makes it blotchy and uneven. The least picturesque version of him, another facet that Changbin loves.

“Not like. Not as a, a stress-reliever, or whatever. Not just for that.” Before Changbin can speak again, he goes on: “And not just as a friend, okay? I get it, friendship is precious, rah rah, I value my friends a lot, but I want you more.”

Changbin snorts. “Wow. Okay.”

Hyunjin huffs, groaning. “I do! I love our friendship, I just—I keep feeling like I’m happy but then I want to have a bad day, so that I can... be close to you, and then I do have a bad day! Because I don’t have you, and not having you makes me sick, and—”

Changbin puts a hand over his mouth, gently.

“Hyunjin. This is why I wanted you to talk.”

Hyunjin’s red eyes glare balefully at him.

“Can we sit?”

They go to the couch as one, though Hyunjin politely waits for Changbin to speak without needing to be muzzled.

“Being with you is the best part of my day,” Changbin tells him.

Hyunjin’s jaw drops.

“...Better than the gym?”

Changbin smiles. “Yes. Of course better than the gym, Hyunjin-ah.”

Hyunjin doesn’t seem to know what to do with that.

“This... thing you let me do,” he chokes, suddenly bright red. “It doesn’t gross you out? You don’t think I’m some. Some pervert who drools over your tits all day?”

Changbin gulps. His dick twitched at that.

“Uh. No, I. I like it. I like looking at your face and... just how. Relaxed you look. I like that.”

Hyunjin looks lost. “But I’m so into you,” he says, like a protest.

Changbin’s heart flutters with exhilaration.

“I’m into you too.”

Hyunjin starts to lean towards him, then puts a hand up between them, shaking his head.

“I don’t think you understand—I am some pervert who drools over your tits all day. I literally think about them twenty-four seven.”

Changbin feels his cheeks heat. “That’s... fine, I—”

“I want to buy you a bra. And a stupidly tight woman’s shirt that’s too narrow for you so that the buttons are about to pop.”

Changbin’s mouth goes dry. “Uh. Yes, that’s—I could get into—”

“Hyung, I want us to sleep in the same bed all the time so that I can suck you in the middle of the night, even if you’re asleep. Last night was the best sleep of my life, after that horrible nightmare.”

“Okay. Yes, I would... I slept good too, I would love to sleep together—” But he remembers, finally, that there’s something he doesn’t understand. “Wait, Hyunjin, what was the nightmare about?”

Hyunjin looks at him, really looks at him, and he looks pitying.

“You really didn’t get it?” he asks.

It was his wedding day. Hyunjin was his best man. Changbin got no other details. Maybe Hyunjin misremembered how much he—oh.

Oh.

Hyunjin must see it dawn on his face, because the pity turns to comprehension. Then, a small smile.

“You weren’t the groom,” Changbin breathes.

“Right.”

He looks so sad.

“Hyunjin, when I said being with you is the best part of my day... I didn’t just mean the. Uh. The thing where you...” He shuffles forward, taking his hands. “I meant being with you. Spending time with you. Seeing you in the mornings, at night, at home. Making you smile. Making you roll your eyes. All of it.”

Hyunjin’s fingers spasm around Changbin’s. “...Oh.”

“Yeah.” Changbin looks at him, tilting his head to the side. “You know I love you, right?”

Hyunjin tips forward and buries his face in his chest, arms coming around Changbin’s mid-back to brace himself.

“Is. What is happening.”

“I can’t process this while looking at your face,” Hyunjin muffles. “I need... safety.”

“My chest is safety, to you?” Why is he so endeared?

“Yes.” Hyunjin shudders, not mouthing or nursing, just breathing into the middle of Changbin’s pecs. “I’m. I love you so much.”

Changbin’s heart leaps.

“When we retell this story, can we exclude the part where my face is buried in your tits when I said this?” Hyunjin adds, still muffled. “I want it to be romantic.”

“This is plenty romantic,” Changbin giggles, patting the top of his head. “But I’d love to look at you.”

Hyunjin pulls back to allow it, gaze hesitantly meeting his. He’s so red.

“I stopped sleeping with other people because you weren’t acting jealous,” he breathes. “I tried, for months, to get you to... but you didn’t. So there was no point.”

Changbin sighs. “I hated it.”

“I hated it too. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They stare at each other. Several seconds pass.

"Can I kiss you?" Changbin asks him.

Hyunjin smiles, and Changbin kisses him. It's perfect, for all that Hyunjin wants to rewrite his own confession. It starts out sweet, tender, and slowly evolves and heats up, becoming deeper, exploring, wetter. Changbin sinks a hand into Hyunjin's hair and uses the other to hold the back of his neck steady. Hyunjin puts both hands on his shoulders in order to climb into Changbin's lap, mouths never parting, and then his hands slide down to start kneading and groping Changbin's chest almost immedaitely.

Changbin chuckles into the kiss, forcing them to part for a moment.

"What?" Hyunjin mutters, defensive. His hands stay cupping Changbin's pecs. "They were right there. Begging to be touched."

"If they are talking to you, we have other problems, baby."

Hyunjin tries to fight his laugh, but then it bursts out of him anyway. "Do you have any idea what it's been like to watch you walk around and not... constantly ask you to let me..."

"I thought it helped you feel better."

"It does!" Hyunjin sighs, now openly staring at Changbin's chest. "Even when I'm already feeling good, having one of them in my mouth feels better."

Changbin is blushing, maybe. Still, he asks the obvious question. "You wanna fuck them?"

Hyunjin freezes. Then he closes his eyes and whimpers, biting his lower lip in a way that looks frankly rather pathetic.

"Fuck, you're the man of my dreams."

Changbin laughs, and grabs him to carry him to his bedroom. He's still laughing when Hyunjin fumbles and drops the lube (twice) in his eagerness, and when Hyunjin accidentally pours out too much in the space between his pecs, getting gel all the way up to Changbin's neck. He's just so happy; giggling at Hyunjin's trembling excitement, pleased to once again be able to provide...

"This is the best day of my life," Hyunijn pants, breathless. "And if you don't quit laughing I'm going to bring up your foot thing."

It's said without malice, but it does get Changbin to shut up.

 

 

Notes:

Nina write a PWP without including a love confession at the end callenge FAILED once again!! Sorry!

Thank you so much for reading!!! Here is the twitter post for the fic if you want to share.

I would be so grateful if you took the time to let me know whether you enjoyed it, I live for feedback!!!!!!! 🥹

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Creative Coping Mechanisms