boys with charm | heemin | nc-17
Title: Boys With Charm
Pairing: Heechul/Sungmin [Super Junior]
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: mention of prostitution, explicit sex, cross-dressing, theft, violence, murder
Summary: There's nothing more dangerous than a boy with charm.
AN: Inspiration and title both come from Christina Aguilera's Candyman. Full playlist here.
Sungmin takes him roughly in that seedy back alley. It should be mediocre but strangely all his senses are in overdrive, from the smell of sweat and piss he inhales at each breath to the tight heat clenching around his cock. The other is responsive, moans and high-pitched whines - probably fake; Sungmin couldn’t care less. He has him bent over with his silky dress bunched up around his waist and at each thrust he ripples around him in a way that feels too real, too good.
Sungmin comes with a grunt and the other shudders, scrambling for balance when he pulls out.
“See you,” Sungmin says, turning away. It’s still early and he’s got time for a few drinks before he has to go.
Sungmin finds him again later, leaning against his car. He makes a shocking picture, stark red of his dress clashing with the sleek white bodywork of the car. Sungmin notices the rivulet of blood dripping from his nose and refrains a frown.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m coming with you,” the other says. His voice is lower than expected and his blank expression is nothing like the lusty heat he displayed earlier. It pleases Sungmin. He likes seeing the real side of people and this guy, dabbing a shredded tissue to his nose, seems interesting.
“Alright,” he says eventually. “But I’m warning you, it’s a long ride.”
He gets a snort in response.
Inside of the car, it’s a strange picture, bizarrely erotic, to see him there, just an additional gadget that fits with the expensive crème upholstery and the shiny dashboard. Sungmin trails his eyes up his legs and thinks he can see a bruise or two hiding behind the fishnet.
“Here.”
He hands him his handkerchief and the other takes it with dainty, mistrusting fingers, eyeing him warily while he bloodies the snobbish Burberry pattern. Sungmin turns the ignition key and the motor purrs to life.
“I’m Heechul, by the way.”
Sungmin takes a smooth turn and drives them away from the city.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Sungmin.”
Heechul falls asleep after an hour or so and the lights from other cars will fleetingly illuminate his face as Sungmin passes by them. He likes driving on the highway at night because the road is his, he’s the fastest and the best, he can be alone, he can be whatever he wants.
When he stops later at a gas station for a refill and a coffee served in a paper cup, too bitter, Heechul doesn’t move an inch. Sungmin considers for a while before tossing the cup in a bin and opening the passenger’s door. Heechul’s hair is greasy and for the first time Sungmin notices the bags under his eyes, the hint of stubble above his lip and the smudges of dried blood. He shakes him awake gently, taking in the startled eyes.
“It’s me - Sungmin. Do you want to eat something?”
Heechul shakes his head, muted, and his eyes are huge as he watches Sungmin get back in the car.
When even caffeine can’t keep his eyes open anymore, Sungmin parks the car in the empty lot of a cheap motel; this time, Heechul wakes up and stumbles drowsily after him up the stairs to a room that smells musty, cold smoke and cheap detergent. There’s a single bed in the middle and Sungmin barely takes the time to tug his tie open and toe off his shoes; then he crashes, he’s gone.
He wakes up to sun filtering through the flimsy curtains and Heechul watching him, looking rested and relatively peaceful.
“I thought you were dead,” he tells Sungmin flatly. “I was wondering what I should do.”
He’s wearing a pair of briefs and a teeshirt; his long hair is clean and combed, falling messily around his face from which the remnants of makeup have been cleaned. Sungmin feels a stirring in his cock - he shoves the blankets off him and walks to the bathroom.
When he comes back Heechul is lying on the bed, legs spread and longs fingers wrapped around his cock. He smiles lazily at Sungmin.
“Come here,” he purrs. “I have to pay for the ride.”
Sungmin smirks at him, crawls back on the bed and takes his cock in hand, watches Heechul arch and moan when he strokes.
“You like that?”
Heechul’s cock is already lubricated and Sungmin’s hand makes slick noises as it jacks him off.
“What do you want?” Heechul pants. “My mouth or my ass?”
Sungmin considers before kissing him, for the first time. Heechul’s got the mouth made for it, and it’s almost a shame but:
“You can suck me off later.”
He has Heechul ride him and while he sways and moans above him, Sungmin pictures his lips wrapped tight around his cock; he strokes Heechul’s and watches him falter in his rhythm. His back arches and he pushes into the hand, tries to get Sungmin’s cock deeper into him.
“We still have a long road,” Sungmin murmurs. “Think about it. Think about all the times you’ll have to pay me back.”
Heechul gasps and his eyes slit open, darker than ever. He tightens around Sungmin and moans low in his throat.
“That’s it, baby,” Sungmin urges him, smug with the reaction. “Come on, come for me.”
Heechul flops down next to him afterwards; sweat is making his hair curl slightly.
“So,” he breathes. “Where are we going, exactly?”
“Don’t ask questions,” Sungmin says.
He gets an amused look before Heechul straddles him and Sungmin is about to push him away when he kisses him, brutally, teeth knocking together. Sungmin’s wrists are held loosely above his head and Heechul bites on his lower lip until they both taste blood; Sungmin gasps despite himself.
Heechul laughs:
“I’m gonna get changed. We’re leaving soon.”
From the corner of his eye, Sungmin watches Heechul apply red lipstick, carefully, eyes trained on the visor’s mirror. Earlier, Heechul left the hotel smelling of perfume and sex underneath, wearing Sungmin’s second pair of pants. The dress has been neatly folded and rests in the trunk.
Sungmin promises himself he’ll stop by a small town later to buy Heechul clothes and a new dress, maybe a miniskirt, maybe lingerie. Something he’ll get to rip off him.
Meanwhile Heechul fiddles with the buttons of the console and stops when he finds a pop station, bounces in his seat for a while - sings ‘oppa, oppa’ and hums in all the right tones. Sungmin trains his eyes on the road.
The glove compartment opens in a clatter and there’s a short, shocked gasp.
“Don’t ask about the gun.”
“Okay,” Heechul breathes.
They’re on edge for the rest of the ride, until Sungmin stops at a deserted diner. Heechul storms to the bathroom without a glance at the owner who yelps:
“You have to order first!”
Sungmin fixes him with a glare and pointedly lets his jacket fall on a banquette, before following Heechul inside of the bathroom. He finds him splashing water on his face, smudging mascara around.
“What’s wrong with you?” Sungmin asks.
Heechul straightens up and eyes him furiously, before stalking up to him and punching him in the jaw.
“What the fuck!”
It barely hurt but that’s not the point.
“Next time you tell me about the gun in the glove compartment,” Heechul hisses.
They have lunch at the diner and Heechul is entirely uncaring of the owner blatantly staring at him. Sungmin is watching him, too, but probably for different reasons. He finds himself fascinated by the fluttering of Heechul’s lashes or the way his lips, painted red, purse around his straw.
Sungmin buys him a pack of cigarettes before they leave and Heechul smokes the first one leaning against the car, watching Sungmin walk up to him with a cocky smirk.
“Hey,” Sungmin breathes. “Can I have a drag of that?”
Wordlessly, Heechul holds the cigarette to his mouth and Sungmin tastes the ashy sweetness of his lipstick.
A few days later, Sungmin comes back to the car and drops a large bag in Heechul’s lap. He bites his lip while he waits for the reaction, Heechul rifling through the items. His expression switches from curious to amused when he digs out the lacey contraption.
“That’s sexy,” he murmurs. “I like it.”
“I picked some men’s clothes too,” Sungmin says nervously. “I didn’t know if…”
Heechul’s eyes focus lazily on him:
“I’ll wear them,” he says slowly. “But,” he adds, pulling out the prim and proper white dress Sungmin had picked out of sheer fondness, “this won’t fit.”
“How do you know? You haven’t-”
He’s interrupted by Heechul slipping out of his seat and on Sungmin’s lap. He smells good and his breath is hot in his ear when he whispers:
“It’ll suit you just fine.”
Sungmin kisses him then, desperately, just to make him shut up, wanting to feel Heechul’s tongue in his mouth and his hands on his skin.
Before long they’re scrambling with buttons and zippers and Heechul’s pulling him to the backseat, head bumping against the ceiling. Sungmin sprawls on the seat and watches Heechul settle between his legs. He licks his lips, laughs low when he catches Sungmin look.
“I’m gonna suck you off,” Heechul says then. “You’re gonna come so hard, you won’t believe it.”
Sungmin whimpers, worrying at his lower lip, tasting the old cut and remembering Heechul putting it there.
He’s already half-hard when Heechul starts sucking at him and after that it’s a quick fall, punctuated by Sungmin’s rapid breaths and the soft suckling sounds Heechul makes.
Sungmin likes having him by his side; it blunts the sharp fear of getting caught, of running out of options. It’s reassuring to wake up and find Heechul’s body next to his. They’re starting to talk in the same fashion, to smell the same scent - starting to look alike despite their differences just like old couples do after a long relationship.
Without talking much they’re learning everything about each other and it’s mostly about contact, proximity.
Some morning, when they wake up in cheap nylon sheets, Heechul will say ‘don’t move’ and trail kisses around his shoulders; Sungmin giggles when he feels the wet, soft brush of a marker on his skin.
“What are you drawing?” he asks softly. His voice is still rough after the night they had.
“Not drawing anything,” Heechul answers, “just writing that you’re mine.”
When it’s Sungmin’s turn, he gathers Heechul between his thighs, back to his chest, and sweeps up his long hair until the pale expanse of his neck is free, unblemished save for a purplish mark Sungmin left there a few day ago.
The tip of the marker stays held in the air for a long time before Sungmin finally presses it to Heechul’s skin.
“So?” Heechul’s voice is amused. “What did you draw?”
“Nothing,” Sungmin whispers back. “Just wrote my name on you.”
The ink takes a long time to fade and even after, Sungmin thinks he can still see shadows of letters on his left shoulder blade.
For a while Sungmin drives them from small town to small town, mostly at night, choosing to spend the day resting instead. Heechul has given up wanting to know where they’re headed; instead he paints his nails, reads, takes blurry pictures of flowers and birds on the roadside. He’s also the one who spots the motels where they sleep and who dictates their pace. Fucking and driving and eating and living, it’s all becoming timed by Heechul.
Once when they’re making out like teenagers and Sungmin is straddling Heechul, they get caught up in the kissing and it goes on without either of them pushing things further than that. Later on, Heechul combs his fingers through Sungmin’s hair and laughs, thumb tracing at his lips.
“I got red on you.”
He angles Sungmin’s chin towards the small rearview mirror.
“Look.”
Sungmin sees a thoroughly debauched creature with lips tinged red. The vision rips through him, leaves him breathless, while Heechul sucks hickeys like large flowers, plums ripening on his neck.
It’s what eventually leads him to say ‘yes’ to Heechul when one night, in the privacy of their bedroom, he walks to Sungmin with his brushes. Heechul grins, wide, boyish, out of place; Sungmin feels his breath catch.
He keeps his eyes closed all the while except when Heechul murmurs at him to open them so he can trace a thick line of black at the edge of each eyelid. It’s overall a soft sensation of feathers brushing against his skin; the air between them smells like powder and the cigarettes Heechul smokes. Sungmin kisses him chastely before he applies the lipstick on and is rewarded with a thumb stroking down his jaw.
“Don’t move,” Heechul mumbles. “I don’t want it to smudge.”
Heechul stays at his side while he helps him dress up. With his hand splayed on Sungmin’s stomach, he rolls his stockings up, tightens the little ribbons and straps, zips the white dress closed.
“You can open your eyes.”
Sungmin sees himself, a pretty girl - maybe a bit on the stocky side, but she can be a swimmer, he thinks, making up a backstory on the spot. She has beautiful lips and huge eyes and she’s attractive, he realizes, really attractive. He wants to say that to Heechul, who’s trailing little kisses from his shoulder up to the column of his neck, but he finds that he can only stare at their reflection in the mirror.
“Tonight,” Heechul whispers against his skin, “I’m gonna lay you down on that bed and then I’m gonna fuck you.”
Sungmin whimpers, yes, lets himself be tugged and pushed down.
It seems like Heechul plays his body during hours, starting by arranging Sungmin carefully on the bed, propped against pillows, as comfortable as he can get. Heechul combs his long fingers through Sungmin’s short hair, makes him purr in delight until the knot of tension has melted into a more subdued, sensual tension. Then Heechul strokes Sungmin’s face, lingering on his cheekbones and his lips and they’re both silent, only breathing and watching each other - never leaving the other’s eyes.
Heechul is playing doll, making Sungmin curl and uncurl his fingers with soft strokes of his own, arranging the folds of the dress - at one point he straightens up, straddling Sungmin, and reaches for the nightstand where he left his cellphone.
Sungmin hides his eyes behind his arm in shame so Heechul coos and cajoles:
“Look at me, come on. Come on, I want to see your eyes. You’re so pretty, baby girl.”
It burns hot and molten through Sungmin, makes color rise to his cheeks at the same time he opens his eyes, looks up at Heechul behind his eyelashes.
Heechul takes a picture, then two, then three and at each click Sungmin feels himself leave his body a bit more to become her, the girl. It feels good. It feels liberating, like the pressure is slowly being lifted from him.
After that he’s putty in Heechul’s hands, lets him kiss and stroke him and stretch him, and Sungmin whines, arches his back when Heechul pushes inside him. It’s perfect, this cock filling him up slowly; Sungmin wants it, he wants to be fucked and had and taken.
For a week or so they play like this every night, sometimes both of them girls, sometimes only Sungmin, or only Heechul. More rarely they’re both boys. It gets them exhilarated, driven by the desire to surpass themselves. At day they travel and buy clothes and accessories for each other. Sungmin likes to see Heechul flirting with both genders, a girl in a too-wide men’s shirt, a boy with eyes darkened by liner and long lashes. When Sungmin is a girl, though, Heechul likes her perfect and he spends hours working on every detail until she’s the ideal girl. The game dizzies them; they’re losing control and it seems like their attraction to one another is only magnified by the shadow it casts on their relationship.
There’s a slight problem, though, that they’ll have to remedy fast:
“Heechul,” Sungmin says, closing the trunk of the car with a thud. “We’re running out of cash.”
Heechul watches him with eyes half-lidded and doesn’t answer.
“What are we gonna do?”
Heechul throws the butt of his cigarette to the ground and crushes it beneath his heel.
“I don’t know, Min. Where did the money come from on first hand?”
Sungmin didn’t tell him and he’s not about too. There are some things he’d rather forget about.
“Fine,” Heechul snaps. “Don’t tell me, but don’t come complaining afterwards.”
“Fuck you,” Sungmin grits out. “You liked being in control of things, didn’t you? You should have thought of this before.”
Heechul snorts and tugs Sungmin to him by the lapels of his jacket.
“This is what this is about, isn’t it? Control?” He licks a wet warm stripe up Sungmin’s neck and purrs: “You can have your control too, baby. Just come and take it.”
They’re half-laughing and half-snarling when Sungmin wrestles Heechul to the backside of the car and once there the feeling is back, Sungmin keeps Heechul’s wrists pinned to the crisp crème leather and they’re both breathless with laughter, aching with passion.
“I do have a plan,” Heechul says later, basking in the afterglow while Sungmin traces hearts and ribbons and music notes over his ribs.
“Oh?”
“We’ll just have to take what’s ours,” Heechul exhales, and there’s fire and smoke in his voice, so Sungmin kisses him.
They’ve crossed so many barriers already, bodies and genders and this thing others call normalcy that this new adjustment in their lives is just another factor to take in consideration - now they stop for a refill of cash just how before they stopped for a refill of gas.
It ads a thrill and soon they become entirely nocturnal creatures, sleeping during the hot summer afternoons and rising shortly before sunset.
They paint their faces then, hide their bodies, behind glitter and shimmering patterns, and Heechul takes him clubbing, teaches him how to move like a girl. They dance together, enlaced, as if made of the same unearthly clay, and it works.
They get watched, but it’s not as a bizarre circus attraction anymore. People - men - are attracted to them. So they’ll lure them and they’ll pretend to enjoy the heavy, clumsy touches, but it never lasts and before long Sungmin and Heechul are back to belonging to one another, they can exchange sweet kisses and hold each other, they’re the only lovers on this planet.
And their pockets are full as they drive away, farther and farther.
It’s one of those nights and Heechul has strayed away somewhere, following a pretty girl with shocking pink hair. He pressed a soft kiss behind Sungmin’s ear before he left, making it alright - Heechul always makes it alright.
Sungmin is dancing, alone, enjoying the eyes following his every move.
He doesn’t expect the heavy hand around his arm but it’s not entirely unwelcome when he sees the dark hair and beautiful mouth of the stranger. Sungmin smiles at him fleetingly, lets himself be tugged around for a while before escaping the man’s hold and swaying around him, staring him up and down. He wants to assess the quality - this one looks like he’s filthy rich.
“Buy me a drink?” Sungmin asks coyly. He doesn’t need to pitch his voice higher: it’s swallowed by the throbbing music of the club, but the meaning is clear and the stranger hurries to comply, watching Sungmin sip at his straw with hungry eyes.
It’s easy to play him around and Sungmin makes sure he’s watched when he goes back dancing, when he stops and throws a look over his shoulder before walking out. He hears the man’s footsteps echo after him in the street, leads him through alleys and narrow streets, passing by clubs and bars and restaurants.
By the time they reach the small parking lot where Sungmin is supposed to meet Heechul the stranger is right on his heels, close enough that Sungmin can hear his rapid breathing, though he doesn’t sound exhausted. Just impatient.
Sungmin smirks and slowly turns back.
“That’s a nice car,” the stranger says in a low voice. His eyes, raking all over Sungmin, make him feel small and fragile. He’s not sure he enjoys the feeling - he’s not sure he dislikes it either. The attention and the desire he seems to be inspiring are welcome; Sungmin is flattered that his and Heechul’s little trick could fool someone like that man, with his expensive shoes and designer suit. Sungmin’s eyes flicker to the beautiful watch on the man’s wrist.
However, he’s doesn’t know what to make of the predatory, barely hidden hunger the stranger radiates. Sungmin takes a step back, cautiously, feels his back bump against the cool bodywork of the car and he’s back on familiar grounds; the taste of so many kisses shared with Heechul in the exact same position is branded on his tongue.
Sungmin grabs the guy by the tie and kisses him, to distract them both. He’s pushed more forcefully against the car and the door handle digs into his lower back so he shifts, wincing at the discomfort. It doesn’t deter the guy, though, and he bites Sungmin’s lip before pushing his tongue into his mouth. This time the pain only ignites a curl of fear and nausea through Sungmin.
He sends a blind punch, doubles it with a kick once the guy has stepped back, but he’s not strong enough and the shove sends him slamming hard into the car, gasping at the gun pointed at him.
“Okay, Lee Sungmin”, the guy says. “Now we’ve been acquainted, tell me where the money is.”
There’s the beginning of a bruise on his cheekbone and blood smeared around his lip - Sungmin’s probably. The urge to spit in his face is hard to overcome, but Sungmin manages, only held back by the fear pounding at his ribcage.
“I don’t have the money,” he taunts. “What are you gonna do about it?”
The first punch catches him in the stomach and Sungmin cough, retches, before he’s sent to the floor by a vicious kick in the ribs that’s followed by a hail of blows. Sungmin curls into a ball to protect himself, fleetingly thinks of the pretty dress Heechul had spent so much time picking. It’s probably going to be ruined.
The two shots cut right through the rain of kicks but the pain subsists long after in Sungmin’s body. He rolls on his back and watches Heechul prod the man’s body with a dainty foot, before rushing at his side.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine - take everything he has.”
Sungmin staggers to the car and collapses in the passenger’s seat, watching Heechul empty the dead man’s pockets. His skin feels like it’s swelling up slowly and in the rearview mirror Sungmin sees his makeup is all smudged. What a shame.
Heechul slides in the driver’s seat and drops the shiny wristwatch in his lap.
“Let’s bail.”
They drive until the road stops and watch the sun rise over the sea.
Pairing: Heechul/Sungmin [Super Junior]
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: mention of prostitution, explicit sex, cross-dressing, theft, violence, murder
Summary: There's nothing more dangerous than a boy with charm.
AN: Inspiration and title both come from Christina Aguilera's Candyman. Full playlist here.
Sungmin takes him roughly in that seedy back alley. It should be mediocre but strangely all his senses are in overdrive, from the smell of sweat and piss he inhales at each breath to the tight heat clenching around his cock. The other is responsive, moans and high-pitched whines - probably fake; Sungmin couldn’t care less. He has him bent over with his silky dress bunched up around his waist and at each thrust he ripples around him in a way that feels too real, too good.
Sungmin comes with a grunt and the other shudders, scrambling for balance when he pulls out.
“See you,” Sungmin says, turning away. It’s still early and he’s got time for a few drinks before he has to go.
Sungmin finds him again later, leaning against his car. He makes a shocking picture, stark red of his dress clashing with the sleek white bodywork of the car. Sungmin notices the rivulet of blood dripping from his nose and refrains a frown.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m coming with you,” the other says. His voice is lower than expected and his blank expression is nothing like the lusty heat he displayed earlier. It pleases Sungmin. He likes seeing the real side of people and this guy, dabbing a shredded tissue to his nose, seems interesting.
“Alright,” he says eventually. “But I’m warning you, it’s a long ride.”
He gets a snort in response.
Inside of the car, it’s a strange picture, bizarrely erotic, to see him there, just an additional gadget that fits with the expensive crème upholstery and the shiny dashboard. Sungmin trails his eyes up his legs and thinks he can see a bruise or two hiding behind the fishnet.
“Here.”
He hands him his handkerchief and the other takes it with dainty, mistrusting fingers, eyeing him warily while he bloodies the snobbish Burberry pattern. Sungmin turns the ignition key and the motor purrs to life.
“I’m Heechul, by the way.”
Sungmin takes a smooth turn and drives them away from the city.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Sungmin.”
Heechul falls asleep after an hour or so and the lights from other cars will fleetingly illuminate his face as Sungmin passes by them. He likes driving on the highway at night because the road is his, he’s the fastest and the best, he can be alone, he can be whatever he wants.
When he stops later at a gas station for a refill and a coffee served in a paper cup, too bitter, Heechul doesn’t move an inch. Sungmin considers for a while before tossing the cup in a bin and opening the passenger’s door. Heechul’s hair is greasy and for the first time Sungmin notices the bags under his eyes, the hint of stubble above his lip and the smudges of dried blood. He shakes him awake gently, taking in the startled eyes.
“It’s me - Sungmin. Do you want to eat something?”
Heechul shakes his head, muted, and his eyes are huge as he watches Sungmin get back in the car.
When even caffeine can’t keep his eyes open anymore, Sungmin parks the car in the empty lot of a cheap motel; this time, Heechul wakes up and stumbles drowsily after him up the stairs to a room that smells musty, cold smoke and cheap detergent. There’s a single bed in the middle and Sungmin barely takes the time to tug his tie open and toe off his shoes; then he crashes, he’s gone.
He wakes up to sun filtering through the flimsy curtains and Heechul watching him, looking rested and relatively peaceful.
“I thought you were dead,” he tells Sungmin flatly. “I was wondering what I should do.”
He’s wearing a pair of briefs and a teeshirt; his long hair is clean and combed, falling messily around his face from which the remnants of makeup have been cleaned. Sungmin feels a stirring in his cock - he shoves the blankets off him and walks to the bathroom.
When he comes back Heechul is lying on the bed, legs spread and longs fingers wrapped around his cock. He smiles lazily at Sungmin.
“Come here,” he purrs. “I have to pay for the ride.”
Sungmin smirks at him, crawls back on the bed and takes his cock in hand, watches Heechul arch and moan when he strokes.
“You like that?”
Heechul’s cock is already lubricated and Sungmin’s hand makes slick noises as it jacks him off.
“What do you want?” Heechul pants. “My mouth or my ass?”
Sungmin considers before kissing him, for the first time. Heechul’s got the mouth made for it, and it’s almost a shame but:
“You can suck me off later.”
He has Heechul ride him and while he sways and moans above him, Sungmin pictures his lips wrapped tight around his cock; he strokes Heechul’s and watches him falter in his rhythm. His back arches and he pushes into the hand, tries to get Sungmin’s cock deeper into him.
“We still have a long road,” Sungmin murmurs. “Think about it. Think about all the times you’ll have to pay me back.”
Heechul gasps and his eyes slit open, darker than ever. He tightens around Sungmin and moans low in his throat.
“That’s it, baby,” Sungmin urges him, smug with the reaction. “Come on, come for me.”
Heechul flops down next to him afterwards; sweat is making his hair curl slightly.
“So,” he breathes. “Where are we going, exactly?”
“Don’t ask questions,” Sungmin says.
He gets an amused look before Heechul straddles him and Sungmin is about to push him away when he kisses him, brutally, teeth knocking together. Sungmin’s wrists are held loosely above his head and Heechul bites on his lower lip until they both taste blood; Sungmin gasps despite himself.
Heechul laughs:
“I’m gonna get changed. We’re leaving soon.”
From the corner of his eye, Sungmin watches Heechul apply red lipstick, carefully, eyes trained on the visor’s mirror. Earlier, Heechul left the hotel smelling of perfume and sex underneath, wearing Sungmin’s second pair of pants. The dress has been neatly folded and rests in the trunk.
Sungmin promises himself he’ll stop by a small town later to buy Heechul clothes and a new dress, maybe a miniskirt, maybe lingerie. Something he’ll get to rip off him.
Meanwhile Heechul fiddles with the buttons of the console and stops when he finds a pop station, bounces in his seat for a while - sings ‘oppa, oppa’ and hums in all the right tones. Sungmin trains his eyes on the road.
The glove compartment opens in a clatter and there’s a short, shocked gasp.
“Don’t ask about the gun.”
“Okay,” Heechul breathes.
They’re on edge for the rest of the ride, until Sungmin stops at a deserted diner. Heechul storms to the bathroom without a glance at the owner who yelps:
“You have to order first!”
Sungmin fixes him with a glare and pointedly lets his jacket fall on a banquette, before following Heechul inside of the bathroom. He finds him splashing water on his face, smudging mascara around.
“What’s wrong with you?” Sungmin asks.
Heechul straightens up and eyes him furiously, before stalking up to him and punching him in the jaw.
“What the fuck!”
It barely hurt but that’s not the point.
“Next time you tell me about the gun in the glove compartment,” Heechul hisses.
They have lunch at the diner and Heechul is entirely uncaring of the owner blatantly staring at him. Sungmin is watching him, too, but probably for different reasons. He finds himself fascinated by the fluttering of Heechul’s lashes or the way his lips, painted red, purse around his straw.
Sungmin buys him a pack of cigarettes before they leave and Heechul smokes the first one leaning against the car, watching Sungmin walk up to him with a cocky smirk.
“Hey,” Sungmin breathes. “Can I have a drag of that?”
Wordlessly, Heechul holds the cigarette to his mouth and Sungmin tastes the ashy sweetness of his lipstick.
A few days later, Sungmin comes back to the car and drops a large bag in Heechul’s lap. He bites his lip while he waits for the reaction, Heechul rifling through the items. His expression switches from curious to amused when he digs out the lacey contraption.
“That’s sexy,” he murmurs. “I like it.”
“I picked some men’s clothes too,” Sungmin says nervously. “I didn’t know if…”
Heechul’s eyes focus lazily on him:
“I’ll wear them,” he says slowly. “But,” he adds, pulling out the prim and proper white dress Sungmin had picked out of sheer fondness, “this won’t fit.”
“How do you know? You haven’t-”
He’s interrupted by Heechul slipping out of his seat and on Sungmin’s lap. He smells good and his breath is hot in his ear when he whispers:
“It’ll suit you just fine.”
Sungmin kisses him then, desperately, just to make him shut up, wanting to feel Heechul’s tongue in his mouth and his hands on his skin.
Before long they’re scrambling with buttons and zippers and Heechul’s pulling him to the backseat, head bumping against the ceiling. Sungmin sprawls on the seat and watches Heechul settle between his legs. He licks his lips, laughs low when he catches Sungmin look.
“I’m gonna suck you off,” Heechul says then. “You’re gonna come so hard, you won’t believe it.”
Sungmin whimpers, worrying at his lower lip, tasting the old cut and remembering Heechul putting it there.
He’s already half-hard when Heechul starts sucking at him and after that it’s a quick fall, punctuated by Sungmin’s rapid breaths and the soft suckling sounds Heechul makes.
Sungmin likes having him by his side; it blunts the sharp fear of getting caught, of running out of options. It’s reassuring to wake up and find Heechul’s body next to his. They’re starting to talk in the same fashion, to smell the same scent - starting to look alike despite their differences just like old couples do after a long relationship.
Without talking much they’re learning everything about each other and it’s mostly about contact, proximity.
Some morning, when they wake up in cheap nylon sheets, Heechul will say ‘don’t move’ and trail kisses around his shoulders; Sungmin giggles when he feels the wet, soft brush of a marker on his skin.
“What are you drawing?” he asks softly. His voice is still rough after the night they had.
“Not drawing anything,” Heechul answers, “just writing that you’re mine.”
When it’s Sungmin’s turn, he gathers Heechul between his thighs, back to his chest, and sweeps up his long hair until the pale expanse of his neck is free, unblemished save for a purplish mark Sungmin left there a few day ago.
The tip of the marker stays held in the air for a long time before Sungmin finally presses it to Heechul’s skin.
“So?” Heechul’s voice is amused. “What did you draw?”
“Nothing,” Sungmin whispers back. “Just wrote my name on you.”
The ink takes a long time to fade and even after, Sungmin thinks he can still see shadows of letters on his left shoulder blade.
For a while Sungmin drives them from small town to small town, mostly at night, choosing to spend the day resting instead. Heechul has given up wanting to know where they’re headed; instead he paints his nails, reads, takes blurry pictures of flowers and birds on the roadside. He’s also the one who spots the motels where they sleep and who dictates their pace. Fucking and driving and eating and living, it’s all becoming timed by Heechul.
Once when they’re making out like teenagers and Sungmin is straddling Heechul, they get caught up in the kissing and it goes on without either of them pushing things further than that. Later on, Heechul combs his fingers through Sungmin’s hair and laughs, thumb tracing at his lips.
“I got red on you.”
He angles Sungmin’s chin towards the small rearview mirror.
“Look.”
Sungmin sees a thoroughly debauched creature with lips tinged red. The vision rips through him, leaves him breathless, while Heechul sucks hickeys like large flowers, plums ripening on his neck.
It’s what eventually leads him to say ‘yes’ to Heechul when one night, in the privacy of their bedroom, he walks to Sungmin with his brushes. Heechul grins, wide, boyish, out of place; Sungmin feels his breath catch.
He keeps his eyes closed all the while except when Heechul murmurs at him to open them so he can trace a thick line of black at the edge of each eyelid. It’s overall a soft sensation of feathers brushing against his skin; the air between them smells like powder and the cigarettes Heechul smokes. Sungmin kisses him chastely before he applies the lipstick on and is rewarded with a thumb stroking down his jaw.
“Don’t move,” Heechul mumbles. “I don’t want it to smudge.”
Heechul stays at his side while he helps him dress up. With his hand splayed on Sungmin’s stomach, he rolls his stockings up, tightens the little ribbons and straps, zips the white dress closed.
“You can open your eyes.”
Sungmin sees himself, a pretty girl - maybe a bit on the stocky side, but she can be a swimmer, he thinks, making up a backstory on the spot. She has beautiful lips and huge eyes and she’s attractive, he realizes, really attractive. He wants to say that to Heechul, who’s trailing little kisses from his shoulder up to the column of his neck, but he finds that he can only stare at their reflection in the mirror.
“Tonight,” Heechul whispers against his skin, “I’m gonna lay you down on that bed and then I’m gonna fuck you.”
Sungmin whimpers, yes, lets himself be tugged and pushed down.
It seems like Heechul plays his body during hours, starting by arranging Sungmin carefully on the bed, propped against pillows, as comfortable as he can get. Heechul combs his long fingers through Sungmin’s short hair, makes him purr in delight until the knot of tension has melted into a more subdued, sensual tension. Then Heechul strokes Sungmin’s face, lingering on his cheekbones and his lips and they’re both silent, only breathing and watching each other - never leaving the other’s eyes.
Heechul is playing doll, making Sungmin curl and uncurl his fingers with soft strokes of his own, arranging the folds of the dress - at one point he straightens up, straddling Sungmin, and reaches for the nightstand where he left his cellphone.
Sungmin hides his eyes behind his arm in shame so Heechul coos and cajoles:
“Look at me, come on. Come on, I want to see your eyes. You’re so pretty, baby girl.”
It burns hot and molten through Sungmin, makes color rise to his cheeks at the same time he opens his eyes, looks up at Heechul behind his eyelashes.
Heechul takes a picture, then two, then three and at each click Sungmin feels himself leave his body a bit more to become her, the girl. It feels good. It feels liberating, like the pressure is slowly being lifted from him.
After that he’s putty in Heechul’s hands, lets him kiss and stroke him and stretch him, and Sungmin whines, arches his back when Heechul pushes inside him. It’s perfect, this cock filling him up slowly; Sungmin wants it, he wants to be fucked and had and taken.
For a week or so they play like this every night, sometimes both of them girls, sometimes only Sungmin, or only Heechul. More rarely they’re both boys. It gets them exhilarated, driven by the desire to surpass themselves. At day they travel and buy clothes and accessories for each other. Sungmin likes to see Heechul flirting with both genders, a girl in a too-wide men’s shirt, a boy with eyes darkened by liner and long lashes. When Sungmin is a girl, though, Heechul likes her perfect and he spends hours working on every detail until she’s the ideal girl. The game dizzies them; they’re losing control and it seems like their attraction to one another is only magnified by the shadow it casts on their relationship.
There’s a slight problem, though, that they’ll have to remedy fast:
“Heechul,” Sungmin says, closing the trunk of the car with a thud. “We’re running out of cash.”
Heechul watches him with eyes half-lidded and doesn’t answer.
“What are we gonna do?”
Heechul throws the butt of his cigarette to the ground and crushes it beneath his heel.
“I don’t know, Min. Where did the money come from on first hand?”
Sungmin didn’t tell him and he’s not about too. There are some things he’d rather forget about.
“Fine,” Heechul snaps. “Don’t tell me, but don’t come complaining afterwards.”
“Fuck you,” Sungmin grits out. “You liked being in control of things, didn’t you? You should have thought of this before.”
Heechul snorts and tugs Sungmin to him by the lapels of his jacket.
“This is what this is about, isn’t it? Control?” He licks a wet warm stripe up Sungmin’s neck and purrs: “You can have your control too, baby. Just come and take it.”
They’re half-laughing and half-snarling when Sungmin wrestles Heechul to the backside of the car and once there the feeling is back, Sungmin keeps Heechul’s wrists pinned to the crisp crème leather and they’re both breathless with laughter, aching with passion.
“I do have a plan,” Heechul says later, basking in the afterglow while Sungmin traces hearts and ribbons and music notes over his ribs.
“Oh?”
“We’ll just have to take what’s ours,” Heechul exhales, and there’s fire and smoke in his voice, so Sungmin kisses him.
They’ve crossed so many barriers already, bodies and genders and this thing others call normalcy that this new adjustment in their lives is just another factor to take in consideration - now they stop for a refill of cash just how before they stopped for a refill of gas.
It ads a thrill and soon they become entirely nocturnal creatures, sleeping during the hot summer afternoons and rising shortly before sunset.
They paint their faces then, hide their bodies, behind glitter and shimmering patterns, and Heechul takes him clubbing, teaches him how to move like a girl. They dance together, enlaced, as if made of the same unearthly clay, and it works.
They get watched, but it’s not as a bizarre circus attraction anymore. People - men - are attracted to them. So they’ll lure them and they’ll pretend to enjoy the heavy, clumsy touches, but it never lasts and before long Sungmin and Heechul are back to belonging to one another, they can exchange sweet kisses and hold each other, they’re the only lovers on this planet.
And their pockets are full as they drive away, farther and farther.
It’s one of those nights and Heechul has strayed away somewhere, following a pretty girl with shocking pink hair. He pressed a soft kiss behind Sungmin’s ear before he left, making it alright - Heechul always makes it alright.
Sungmin is dancing, alone, enjoying the eyes following his every move.
He doesn’t expect the heavy hand around his arm but it’s not entirely unwelcome when he sees the dark hair and beautiful mouth of the stranger. Sungmin smiles at him fleetingly, lets himself be tugged around for a while before escaping the man’s hold and swaying around him, staring him up and down. He wants to assess the quality - this one looks like he’s filthy rich.
“Buy me a drink?” Sungmin asks coyly. He doesn’t need to pitch his voice higher: it’s swallowed by the throbbing music of the club, but the meaning is clear and the stranger hurries to comply, watching Sungmin sip at his straw with hungry eyes.
It’s easy to play him around and Sungmin makes sure he’s watched when he goes back dancing, when he stops and throws a look over his shoulder before walking out. He hears the man’s footsteps echo after him in the street, leads him through alleys and narrow streets, passing by clubs and bars and restaurants.
By the time they reach the small parking lot where Sungmin is supposed to meet Heechul the stranger is right on his heels, close enough that Sungmin can hear his rapid breathing, though he doesn’t sound exhausted. Just impatient.
Sungmin smirks and slowly turns back.
“That’s a nice car,” the stranger says in a low voice. His eyes, raking all over Sungmin, make him feel small and fragile. He’s not sure he enjoys the feeling - he’s not sure he dislikes it either. The attention and the desire he seems to be inspiring are welcome; Sungmin is flattered that his and Heechul’s little trick could fool someone like that man, with his expensive shoes and designer suit. Sungmin’s eyes flicker to the beautiful watch on the man’s wrist.
However, he’s doesn’t know what to make of the predatory, barely hidden hunger the stranger radiates. Sungmin takes a step back, cautiously, feels his back bump against the cool bodywork of the car and he’s back on familiar grounds; the taste of so many kisses shared with Heechul in the exact same position is branded on his tongue.
Sungmin grabs the guy by the tie and kisses him, to distract them both. He’s pushed more forcefully against the car and the door handle digs into his lower back so he shifts, wincing at the discomfort. It doesn’t deter the guy, though, and he bites Sungmin’s lip before pushing his tongue into his mouth. This time the pain only ignites a curl of fear and nausea through Sungmin.
He sends a blind punch, doubles it with a kick once the guy has stepped back, but he’s not strong enough and the shove sends him slamming hard into the car, gasping at the gun pointed at him.
“Okay, Lee Sungmin”, the guy says. “Now we’ve been acquainted, tell me where the money is.”
There’s the beginning of a bruise on his cheekbone and blood smeared around his lip - Sungmin’s probably. The urge to spit in his face is hard to overcome, but Sungmin manages, only held back by the fear pounding at his ribcage.
“I don’t have the money,” he taunts. “What are you gonna do about it?”
The first punch catches him in the stomach and Sungmin cough, retches, before he’s sent to the floor by a vicious kick in the ribs that’s followed by a hail of blows. Sungmin curls into a ball to protect himself, fleetingly thinks of the pretty dress Heechul had spent so much time picking. It’s probably going to be ruined.
The two shots cut right through the rain of kicks but the pain subsists long after in Sungmin’s body. He rolls on his back and watches Heechul prod the man’s body with a dainty foot, before rushing at his side.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine - take everything he has.”
Sungmin staggers to the car and collapses in the passenger’s seat, watching Heechul empty the dead man’s pockets. His skin feels like it’s swelling up slowly and in the rearview mirror Sungmin sees his makeup is all smudged. What a shame.
Heechul slides in the driver’s seat and drops the shiny wristwatch in his lap.
“Let’s bail.”
They drive until the road stops and watch the sun rise over the sea.