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Their first promotions might have ended, but their schedules are still so packed that time rushes along like a runaway train on the tracks. It’s cherry blossom season now, but seeing the falling petals only reminds Sanghyeon that the days go by as fast as he can blink, that he has to fight harder to catch up with everyone else. He’s changing; that’s true, too. At times, Sanghyeon feels like a caterpillar curled up tight in a crystalline cocoon, waiting for warm weather.
With this forced metamorphosis comes stress, and a lot of it. Some nights he can't even sleep, and some days he digs crescent-shaped marks into his palms, bites his lips until they're chapped and bloody. It's exhausting work, but it's worth it, always worth it after everything Sanghyeon has done to achieve his dream.
Still, it’s often difficult for Sanghyeon to cope. He’s used to being coddled by his parents, sleeping more than four hours a night, having his own room, his own bed, his own time to watch Instagram reels, jerk off to embarrassing porn, and then feel bad about it afterwards— whatever other guys his age are up to.
Thankfully, Sanghyeon has a unique form of stress relief: his beloved Anxin-hyung. It had taken him a while to get used to it, to get over the guilt of doing something that was, for all intents and purposes, 'forbidden’ – contractually, morally, logically.
But Anxin had been the one to make the first move. The night after the infamous Pepero game livestream, it was Anxin who pushed Sanghyeon up against the wall—the projector still running some E-sports match that Sanghyeon had barely glanced at—and kissed him for real.
Before that, Sanghyeon had been worried that Anxin was upset at him.
u awake?
He had texted, his thumb sending the message before he could lose his nerve.
yea, Anxin replied. come up
Like he already knew what Sanghyeon needed. Even though Sanghyeon himself didn’t even know— at least, not yet.
—
“I’m sorry, hyung,” Sanghyeon mumbles, shifting back and forth on his feet. He casts a quick gaze to the closed bathroom door, where the sound of Xinlong showering was just barely audible. He had snuck up to their room, even though it was late and Junseo would probably scold him if he found out.
“Sorry… for what?”
“You know,” Sanghyeon says quietly, wondering if Anxin is mean enough to drag it out, just for the purpose of teasing him.
“I don't,” Anxin says, cocking his head to the side. He hasn’t wiped his makeup off, probably just about to shower after Xinlong finishes; it makes him look like a priceless porcelain doll. Sanghyeon feels naked and soft in comparison. He digs his teeth into his bottom lip.
“The game earlier. You seemed kinda upset afterwards.”
“Do you regret it?”
Regret it? The question is so off-base from Sanghyeon's assumptions that he can only blink stupidly for a few seconds.
“N-no. Well, if you— no, I don’t.”
Anxin doesn’t say anything. His eyes are suddenly stupidly big and round and dark and it’s making Sanghyeon’s palms sweat.
“Anxin-hyung,” Sanghyeon murmurs, unintentionally or perhaps intentionally tilting his chin down so that he’s almost looking up at Anxin, even though he’s the taller one. He barely restrains himself from jutting out his bottom lip in a pout, the one he usually gives to the camera.
Anxin steps forward, Sanghyeon feels the ghost of Anxin’s hand on his chest, over his pounding heart, and then they’re kissing.
He's really good at it, is the first thing Sanghyeon's mind registers. Then awareness seeps in like water— the minty taste of Anxin’s toothpaste melting on his tongue, the softness of his lips, the breathy noise he makes as he nudges Sanghyeon back towards the wall.
Anxin nips at Sanghyeon’s bottom lip none too gently and Sanghyeon shudders against him in response, his hands coming up to grip Anxin's shoulders. A mirror of the game they’d played only hours earlier, Anxin’s hand climbs slowly up his chest. His fingers burn like hot candle wax against Sanghyeon's neck.
Somewhere far away, the sound of the shower ceases. Sanghyeon rips himself away, heart pounding in his ears. Anxin opens his eyes slowly.
“You should go,” Anxin says, after a beat, and Sanghyeon feels a stab of despair. Anxin snorts loudly at whatever face he’s making, then claps a hand over his own mouth.
“It’s late, that’s why,” Anxin clarifies, possibly taking mercy on him.
Sanghyeon opens his mouth. Anxin shoves him towards the door.
“Tomorrow,” Anxin hisses, shutting it behind him with not much more than a click.
Sanghyeon stands blinking in the darkness of the dorm for a while. Then, he goes to wash the remnants of Anxin’s smeared foundation off of his face.
They've been messing around ever since then, though they've never gotten past making out and hand jobs.
Anxin is just as horny as Sanghyeon, if not worse, based on the videos he’d shown Sanghyeon one day when they had the entire dorm to themselves. He’s helping Sanghyeon as much as he isn’t helping; for every moment of stress relief, of forgetting his anxieties and fears, Anxin is feeding a growing pit in Sanghyeon. It’s more difficult to say ‘no’ to him by the day. Just one well-timed look and they're tumbling around in Anxin’s bed again. Or Sanghyeon’s. Or, one time so far, in the bathroom, crowded up against the counter like they’d run off from a party or something.
Sanghyeon has started inadvertently cataloging all of Anxin’s tells, the things that he likes, the way he reacts to even the mere brush of Sanghyeon’s fingers over the nape of his neck. It’s almost unconscious. Something he does for everyone, not only Anxin. But Anxin also has a few, distinct habits. Normal habits, annoying ones, even cute ones; Sanghyeon can’t help but notice these new lewd ones too.
First, Anxin is mouthy, which isn’t surprising at all.
You like that? he asks with his hand warm and tight around Sanghyeon’s length, eyes twinkling as he leans in to whisper against his ear. Sanghyeon can only nod frantically in response.
But Anxin is also kinda… clumsy, once the shock and awe of “oh my god his hand is on my dick right now” wears off. It’s cute, and it makes Sanghyeon wonder if he’s the first guy Anxin has ever messed around with. Anxin isn’t Sanghyeon’s first, but he sure is the prettiest.
“Your mouth,” are the words that had gotten them into this familiar position today. All the other members are gone from the dorm, so they’re sprawled out carelessly on Sanghyeon’s bed.
“What about it?”
“C-type,” Anxin teases, scooting closer to thumb at the corner of Sanghyeon’s aforementioned mouth.
“It’s a heart, actually,” Sanghyeon says, a tired argument. He’s much more focused on getting Anxin’s pants off as quickly as possible right now. Or his tongue into Anxin's mouth.
Anxin grips him by the chin, and Sanghyeon blinks dopily up at him. The room he shares with Geonwoo is sorely lacking any romantic mood lighting—he’s considered stealing a lamp from Sangwon or Junseo before—but they make do with a small light on the desk, plus the faint glow of the computer monitor. It casts the room in a faint glow, and Anxin’s face is softly illuminated as he leans in to lick at the place where they’re connected, over his own knuckles and Sanghyeon’s lips.
Sanghyeon sucks Anxin’s thumb into his mouth, pliant even as Anxin slips his pointer finger in besides it.
“You like having your mouth full, don’t you?”
Sanghyeon would usually laugh at such a cheesy line, something so typical of the cringy, over-produced, awkward videos he only watches when he’s truly desperate, but something about the moment makes him nod and stick his tongue out for Anxin to pet anyway.
Anxin ends up lying back against the pillows, his hands gripping his shoulders as Sanghyeon takes more and more of him into his mouth. Sanghyeon pulls back to wet his lips as he pumps Anxin’s cock, relishing in how undone he seems already.
His voice shakes as Sanghyeon tongues at the prominent vein on the side before circling the sensitive pink head. He ducks down again, sloppy but not shy as he nudges further and further down. Sanghyeon has basically no gag reflex, something that comes in handy as he finally takes Anxin into his throat and starts bobbing his head.
The closer Anxin gets to coming, the quieter he gets. When Sanghyeon senses his release is imminent—his legs start to tremble, his mouth slackens, only faint gasps and whines escaping—he pulls back to jerk him off quickly.
Anxin’s voice breaks in a moan as he spills over Sanghyeon’s fingers and all over his own stomach, entire body shuddering.
Sanghyeon crawls up to lick the cum off of his taut abdomen. Anxin's been working out in the dorm recently, and so far, it's done basically nothing except make his abs tighter. Sanghyeon takes the opportunity to put his mouth all over them, like he's been wanting to do every time he sees Anxin wearing a cropped shirt.
"Where did you learn how to do that," Anxin says, still trying to catch his breath.
"It's a secret," Sanghyeon replies, fixated on a mole slightly to the right of Anxin’s belly button— it's really sexy. Sanghyeon can't resist dipping his head to mouth at Anxin's too-sensitive dick, still softening between them.
"Bad dog," Anxin hisses, tugging Sanghyeon away by his hair. For a second, he sounds so much like Jiahao that Sanghyeon would laugh, if not for the fact that it's kinda turning him on.
"Sorry, hyung," Sanghyeon mumbles into the pale, smooth skin of Anxin's knobby knee. He leans forward until Anxin loosens his grip and nuzzles into the crease between his right thigh and his hip.
"Xiaozhu," Anxin says, sounding a bit unsure. Sanghyeon pouts up at him from in between his legs.
"Are you... a virgin?"
Sanghyeon laughs.
"Hey!" Anxin whines.
"I'm not," Sanghyeon says, relishing in the expression that crosses Anxin's face, there and gone in the blink of an eye. His hyung is so easy to read, sometimes.
"Did you do it... with a girl?" Anxin asks, his eyes growing hazy.
"Yes," Sanghyeon says. "And a guy, once."
"You fucked him?"
Sanghyeon shakes his head. "We just kind of..."
"Kind of?"
"It's hard to explain," Sanghyeon mumbles, flushing.
“Try,” Anxin says, not one to be refused so easily. He digs the tips of his slender fingers into the meat of Sanghyeon's cheeks.
Sanghyeon shakes his head. “I can't,” he whines, thinking of all the dirty words he’d have to use to explain what they'd done, his first night in the trainee dorms, on the bottom bunk of a bed that creaked with every tiny movement.
"Then show me," Anxin insists.
Sanghyeon begrudgingly pulls away from the heat of Anxin's bare skin. It's no wonder he sleeps without a shirt on.
"Like this," Sanghyeon says, bending Anxin's knees to his chest, thighs together. He slots himself in between them with a huff. He'd been growing harder throughout their entire conversation, and being gripped between Anxin's thighs is making him ache painfully for stimulation.
"And I just," Sanghyeon thrusts forward with a bitten-off whine.
"Ugh," Anxin gasps, still sensitive. He doesn't tell Sanghyeon to stop, though. After a few more slow thrusts, Anxin blinks slowly like he's trying to focus.
"What about the girl?"
She'd been older than him, a childhood friend, and he'd loved her long, sweet-smelling hair, the softness of her skin, her high-pitched voice telling him to call her noona. But even that memory pales in comparison to the sight in front of him now.
"Like this," Sanghyeon says, parting Anxin's legs and leaning forward, over him.
Anxin snorts, throwing his arms around Sanghyeon's neck. "Of course you'd do missionary."
"How do you even know that word?" Sanghyeon sighs.
"I know the important things." Anxin smirks. “So you’ve always been on top?”
“I guess,” Sanghyeon says, a bit awkwardly. He's not one to brag about sexual exploits like some other guys are.
“What would the fans say if they knew,” Anxin sighs theatrically, his hands wandering all over Sanghyeon’s bare shoulders. In the past six months, Sanghyeon has been growing taller and broader. He endures teasing from his hyungs about his endless appetite— an appetite that sometimes extends to more than just food.
Anxin likes it, though, Sanghyeon can tell.
“What would they say if they knew their baby wasn’t so innocent after all?”
"But you've never?" Sanghyeon asks, even though the answer is obvious.
Now Anxin is the one to flush, averting his eyes.
"Tell me, hyung," Sanghyeon teases, unable to resist in the rare moment where he has the upper hand.
Anxin kisses him hungrily instead, more aggressive than he’s ever been. Their teeth clack as Anxin pulls him down, then Sanghyeon tilts his head slightly and everything is wet and perfect. Their chests are flush together like this, and Sanghyeon can feel the frantic beat of Anxin’s heart pounding, feeling every gasp for air like it's his own.
"Can you," Anxin breathes when they finally separate. "Fuck me."
There’s no ‘please’, no coyness, no gentleness, only a single rushed demand, gasped out under what Sanghyeon knows is a blanket of embarrassment. It hits exactly the same anyway, like a sucker punch to the gut. To be asked for something by Anxin, something only he can do, is like Anxin offering himself up on a silver platter. Teach me, it intones. Teach me, because I don’t know how.
“I don’t have a condom,” Sanghyeon says, trying not to look the way he feels— that is, like he’s been hit over the head with a baseball bat.
“It’s okay,” Anxin says. “You used one before, right?”
Sanghyeon nods quickly.
“Then it’s okay,” Anxin says. Sanghyeon nods again, too desperate to get his dick wet to argue, even if he wanted to. “Do you have lube?”
Sanghyeon leans over to dig in the drawer next to the bed. There's a travel sized bottle at the bottom, something he'd once felt perverted for even buying.
Anxin holds his hand out for it.
“I’ll do it,” Sanghyeon says.
“Why?” Anxin asks, though he hands the bottle over anyway. Sanghyeon clicks the cap open, drizzles it liberally over his fingers. I want to be good for you, he thinks.
“Because I know how to do it,” he says instead.
“Like it’s hard,” Anxin scoffs, but he tugs Sanghyeon down and over him, the tip of his nose bumping into Sanghyeon’s cheek.
Sanghyeon’s quick to slide one finger in, knowing Anxin will quickly get impatient. He’s fairly pliant, though he squirms as Sanghyeon works it in and out of him methodically.
Sanghyeon slides another finger in then stills as Anxin tenses. His legs jerk like they want to close, but Sanghyeon’s body in between his thighs prevents that. He crooks his fingers, watches as Anxin's cock twitches and drools precum onto his stomach. Time slows into honey, heady and exquisite, as Sanghyeon curls his fingers into Anxin’s soft insides. He almost wants to make Anxin come like this— he’s so sensitive, reacting to every thrust of Sanghyeon’s hand.
“More,” Anxin demands, even though it’s obvious he isn’t quite ready. Regardless, Sanghyeon obeys, watches Anxin’s face contort first in discomfort and then in pleasure. He moans loudly, unabashed. Sanghyeon feels sweat trickling down his forehead.
“I need— more,” Anxin moans. Considering Sanghyeon's size, he should probably slow the pace, stretch Anxin out on three fingers, maybe even four, until he’s certain it won’t hurt him, but…
His hands are shaking as he strokes himself with lube, resisting the urge to fuck into his fist. He stills as he lines up with Anxin’s slick, shiny entrance.
“Can I,” he asks, almost begging, and watches a fire catch and burn in Anxin’s eyes. Anxin nods, as much of a ‘please’ as he’ll ever get. They both gasp as Sanghyeon bullies his way into Anxin’s body, relishing in the way he squeezes around him, like he’s already begging for more.
"W-wait," Anxin huffs, brow furrowing.
"It's okay, hyung," Sanghyeon says, gathering Anxin’s shaking hands from where they rest on his chest and pinning them above his head. "Just breathe."
He buries his face into the side of Anxin’s neck.
"It’s too much," Anxin whines, louder, and Sanghyeon nearly pulls out before he glances at Anxin's face, at his parted lips, his half-lidded eyes and pupils like black holes swallowing up all of the brown.
Sanghyeon has watched Anxin screech and squirm under Leo’s strong hands. He used to pick fights with Sanghyeon more often, but recently he’s started ducking away from him, not even trying to fend him off with his skinny arms. Still, Anxin teases him all the time, pushes all of his buttons, taunts him, entices him, prods him.
I know you, hyung, Sanghyeon thinks. And he does. Maybe more than anyone else in the world.
"You're too big, Xiaozhu," Anxin moans, looking up at Sanghyeon from under his eyelashes. His head is tilted back, skin flushed all the way up his neck. He’s so tight and wet and perfect that it almost feels like he’s made for Sanghyeon.
He grunts when Sanghyeon slams his hips forward mercilessly. Anxin doesn't want him to go slow or gentle. Sanghyeon knows that, even though he feels a stab of guilt at possibly hurting him. But Anxin wants it to hurt.
“That's not my name," Sanghyeon says, pulling out only to thrust back in, hard.
“Xiaozhu,” Anxin manages with a smirk, before his voice dissolves into a molten moan that makes Sanghyeon's ears heat.
He sets a steady pace, not wanting to lose himself in it when they’ve just started. The longer it goes on, the more unrestrained Anxin seems to get. He’s panting, meeting every one of Sanghyeon’s thrusts with a roll of his hips.
“Harder,” Anxin demands, letting out a pained gasping sound when Sanghyeon nails that spot inside of him he'd been mapping with his fingers earlier.
Despite that, despite the clutch and the friction of his hole feeling so good that he’s half-delirious, Sanghyeon slows.
“Harder,” Anxin hisses again, because he’s a spoiled brat. He digs his sharp heels into Sanghyeon’s back for good measure.
“Shouldn’t you ask nicely?” Sanghyeon says huskily. He barely recognizes the sound of his own voice, drunk on a feeling he's rarely ever experienced before.
“I'm older,” Anxin bites.
“And I'm fucking you,” Sanghyeon tightens his grip on Anxin’s waist.
Anxin opens his mouth but whatever he’s going to say dissolves into a yelp as Sanghyeon yanks him down the bed and folds him in half. Sanghyeon wants to watch Anxin lose his composure more than anything else, even more than his own pleasure. He watches Anxin take it, his eyes closed tightly and brow furrowed. His cock is flushed and bobbing between them, he’s shaking under Sanghyeon’s fingers like it’s too much but his legs are locked so tight around his hips that he can’t even pull out all the way.
Sanghyeon, for the first time, feels an inkling of why this might be a bad idea after all. After he's fucked Anxin once, he already wants to do it again and again— wants to make him beg and cry and whine, wants Anxin to drag him around on a leash and then let him loose. He wants to call him pretty, wants to dig his teeth into the straining tendons of Anxin's throat, wants to leave marks all over his milky skin, he wants, wants, wants.
Anxin’s close; he's started holding his breath in short intervals, brow furrowed and muscles tight. He probably doesn't even realize he's doing it, little huffs of air and whines that he usually bites back when they’re messing around, like he doesn’t want Sanghyeon to hear.
“How is it?” Sanghyeon asks through his own moans.
“’s good, ah,” Anxin gurgles, eyes rolling back in his head.
Sanghyeon isn’t faring any better. It is good, so good that it’s making his teeth chatter. It's never felt like this before, he thinks a bit wildly.
His brain fixates on Anxin’s crumpled face, his almost wounded noises, the tears slipping down his cheeks. Sanghyeon reaches for Anxin’s cock and jerks it in an unsteady rhythm. It must be good enough for him, because he flinches and comes undone with a cry so broken it’s more of a sob.
Sanghyeon focuses on moving his hand in tandem with his hips. He jerks Anxin’s cock until he whimpers, then presses their mouths together sloppily.
"Hyung," Sanghyeon moans into his mouth, chasing his own pleasure, now.
"Are you gonna cum in me?" Anxin rasps, hole tightening around him. "Then I'll be your first, too, right?"
Sanghyeon whines, too overwhelmed for words.
"Come, Sanghyeon-ah." The knot snaps as Sanghyeon watches Anxin's mouth forming his name. Sanghyeon folds over him with a gasp, tears pricking his eyes. He feels pathetic; he's probably being loud, but he can't find it in himself to care.
Anxin cups Sanghyeon’s face in his hands. Their lips find each other again, like magnets.
—
Sanghyeon understands Anxin even better now.
When Anxin needles him during a break from practice, calls him ‘Xiaozhu’ and teases him for not sticking to his diet, Sanghyeon lets it slide until Anxin creeps closer, his hands itching for a fight.
Now, Sanghyeon knows. He pins Anxin against the wall with a bang, heedless of Junseo jumping in his seat nearby, like he thinks they’re actually going to start fighting for real. Anxin laughs, breathily, and it sends heat to places it shouldn’t, considering that they’re at work right now. Sanghyeon looks up at him, venerating.
“What? Gonna kiss me?” Anxin smirks, hands coming to rest on Sanghyeon’s cheeks.
“Hey,” Geonwoo warns, giving them both an exasperated look.
“Leave it, you two,” Leo joins in, like he’s scolding a couple of puppies or something.
Sanghyeon leaves it, because at the very least he's a well-behaved dog, and settles back on the bench. He lets Anxin throw his legs over him, and in return, Anxin lets him dig his fingers into the soft meat of his thigh. Hard enough to bruise.