Chapter Text
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, ohhh…” I moan in whispers, fingers wrapped and working around my cock while my other hand holds a phone playing a Giselle fancam through the screen.
The moment Giselle turns around in the video to execute a move that involves arching her back, my own sperm shoots out of my cock abruptly, landing multiple streaks on my belly and some on my abdomen. My post-nut clarity nears me until my best friend, Kai, beats me to it by barging into the room without knocking.
With the first thing he sees being me with my dick out, torso painted white, all while the fancam of Giselle dancing to Whiplash continues to play loudly on my phone, Kai quickly shuts the door behind him and throws a cum rag at me.
“You need to STOP jerking off on my fucking bed, dude. You’re disgusting,” he says, sounding more tired than angry.
I scramble to press the home button on my phone to silence the now overstimulating background music. “Sorry, you were taking forever heating up one bowl of nachos. Sounds like you’ve got the bigger problem,” I shoot back.
“I made myself a sandwich and a drink while your nachos were in the microwave. The last thing I want to see as a reward for being a hospitable service friend is you cranking your fucking hog to some girls dancing.”
“I’ve been so pent up lately, man. My bad.” I toss my phone aside before taking the cum rag and cleaning up the sperm streams on my stomach with it. “And don’t act so innocent. You literally do the same shit.”
Kai places the bowl of nachos onto the bedside table. “At least I’ve got taste. Let me recommend some groups for you to thirst over. Ever heard of Le Sserafim? Seventeen?”
My face scrunches in disinterest. “Eh, not really big on HYBE groups.”
“You’re kidding. They’re the hottest in the industry right now.”
“I don’t really care about who’s popular nowadays. I fuck with the weirdo freak music these SM artists make,” I say as I pull my shorts back up to finally cover my limp worm. “None of that eat zucchini bullshit.”
“The fuck?” Kai glares at me, gravely offended. “The lyricism from your weirdo freak artists isn’t any better, buster. Talking about bullshit when they sing about ‘walking with the cheese’ and shutting your ‘tongue’. How the fuck does that work?”
“At least they’re hot. Majority of HYBE idols look like the Frooty Loops Studio logo. And a lot of them are much younger than us; no thanks to literal children.” I throw the cum rag right at Kai’s direction with much force, but he dodges it easily because he’s finally learned from the first couple times he got face-shot by the same rag.
“The fuck does that even mean?”
I grab a nacho from the bowl. “I know you’re never serious when you try to tell me they’re worth stanning.”
“Enhypen is worth the try. You’ve heard me play their songs before.”
Enhypen? The boy group whose entire concept orbits around vampirism? I immediately recall. “Oh, yeah, them. I have some of their songs on my sex playlist.”
“They used to be one of HYBE’s biggest groups. Hell, nearly on the same level as BTS, if I had to be honest.” Kai leans over and steals a chip from my nacho bowl. “But ever since their ace, Heeseung, left… everything just kinda went downhill.”
Usually I’d be uninterested, but I’ll admit that Enhypen is quite a phenomenal group, so I can’t help but be intrigued this time. Kai stupidly takes his sweet time chewing on a nacho before finally swallowing to continue.
“They’re struggling to sell out concerts now. Even the album sales aren’t doing so good either, and this is their third comeback already without Heeseung. Poor bastards,” Kai says with a saddened expression, crossing his arms.
“And Heeseung?”
“Solo career. He goes by the name Evan now. Pretty rad, huh?” Kai smirks, almost bitterly. “And he’s killing it. Endorsing for countless brands, winning music awards front and back… got his own fandom now too and everything, whereas Enhypen’s engene land is still a full blown warzone.”
Kai then proceeds to explain the rest of the dramatic lore to me, talking about endless fanwars between “OT7”s, “OT6”s, “Evers”, and solo stans. This boy group must be going through absolute hell.
A good ten minutes pass, and Kai is almost finished running his mouth about this like it’s something worth putting in a history textbook. He shows me a few photos of the Enhypen members on his phone.
“Oh, and this one is Sunoo,” Kai points to the picture of a pretty black-haired boy wearing a pair of fox ears. “The angel of the group, by the way.”
I hum. “Looks the part.”
“His solo stans don’t.”
I glance at Kai, confused. He locks eye contact with me. “Some of the sickest motherfuckers you’ll ever meet. On twitter they act and move like a cult, holding zero morals that make degenerates like us look like the Virgin Mary.”
“Fuck?”
Kai snorts. “Oh yeah. Don’t fuck with them.”
He swipes to the next photo. A tall, handsome boy with snow white skin and thick dark eyebrows greets my thirsty eyes. Holy fucking eye candy.
Kai lets out a low whistle. “This one’s my personal fave, Sunghoon.” He looks at me. “What d’ya think?”
“This is the group’s visual for sure.”
“You sure got it. The amount of times I’ve beaten it to this guy is more than enough to put my name on a watchlist,” Kai laughs, zooming in a little on the photo with his fingers. “Boy is ripped under all this unnecessary clothing, too.”
Kai goes on. While the Enhypen members did pique my interest for a bit, my final verdict did not end with the willing decision to stan them. This frustrated Kai, calling me uncultured and a virgin (this is false). He eventually managed to shake it off, however, and introduced a different boy group to me this time named Cortisol (I think?), sharing halfway that he regularly jerks off to compilation videos of Juhoon speaking in english. And when I found out that Juhoon is barely of legal age, I called Kai a pedophile.
“I can see your computer logs from my system. This is your second warning,” my boss, Mr. Ueno, tells me in a stern tone. He crosses his arms over his chest as he looks at me with disappointment across his work desk. He lets out a long, frustrated sigh.
“If you don’t stop watching ‘[MPD직캠] 키스오브라이프 나띠 직캠 4K 'Sticky' (KISS OF LIFE NATTY FanCam) | @MCOUNTDOWN_2024.7.4’ a hundred and seventy-two times on your work computer everyday, I’m going to fire you and have someone replace you right away as office assistant. I don’t care.”
Ouch. My heart prickles of hurt just a little bit, before answering, “Yes, Mr. Ueno. I apologize. It won’t happen again.”
Correction: it will happen again, just not on my work computer. Fuck you, Mr. Ueno, but I must follow your orders because this job pays way too well for me to argue with your tasteless boomer ass. I can still watch my favorite Natty fancam a hundred and seventy-two times on my phone, anyway. I’m still winning.
After the sermon from Mr. Ueno, I get up and walk out of his office. One of my ugly stupid co-workers, Chen, walks right up to me like I’m hot shit and begins nosing around my business.
“Why’d you walk out of boss bitch’s office like you just got yelled at?” Chen asks me. His breath reeks of saucy lamb chops.
“Because I kinda did, but no yelling,” I answer.
“Did it have something to do with his hot secretary?”
“Fuck no. It was just the Natty fancams.”
“You’re still on that? What a loser.” Chen smirks, pinching my left ass cheek. I jolt in surprise. “You need to get yourself a real bitch immediately otherwise you’re not gonna make it past thirty.”
“I’m almost at my limit, Chen,” I sigh, admitting how pathetic I am. I wave him off when we finally get to my cubicle. “I’ll just look for a quick fuck after clocking out.”
Chen bursts into laughter, sounding just as ugly as he is. His voice fades off as he walks away, and now I have to spend an extra couple minutes deleting all the fancams and deepfakes of various kpop idols I’ve downloaded on my work computer, hidden in a discreet folder labeled “Miscellaneous Data Logs”.
I watch some of them for a bit one last time, and now I’m sporting a rock-hard erection urgently demanding to be released from jail A.K.A my tight work pants. And it’s only twelve in the afternoon. Dang, I need to get up and rub one out to a photo of Lee Jeno’s armpits in the restroom real quick.
The sales rep named Kenji from the next cubicle peers his head over the divider wall, about to give me a handful of loose documents. “Hey could you make copies of— where are you going?”
“I’m going to release some seed. It’s urgent,” I answer bluntly, not even sparing Kenji a glance as I swiftly walk past him on my way to the restroom.