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TL;DR RULES1. post anonymously unless linking to a fill posted somewhere else ( Read more... )
TL;DR RULES1. post anonymously unless linking to a fill posted somewhere else ( Read more... )
Across the room, Jongin has dozed off with his head pillowed in Joonmyun’s lap. Baekhyun leans against Joonmyun’s other shoulder, fingers clinging lightly to Joonmyun’s wrist. Tao and Jongdae have fallen asleep in a tangle that would have been endearing in any other situation, but now, the way their fingers are interlaced speak more of desperation than friendship. They’ve been here for over a day, the time for the concert is long gone and passed, and, if he’s still thinking right through the dull haze and ache of hunger and thirst, they’re half through with this sick experiment. That is, if whoever’s on the other side of that speaker had been telling the truth.
Minseok lets his head fall to one side, his eyes resting on the way Lu Han and Yixing are curled around Kris, as if their physical presence can shield him from the devil curling inside him. The feverish burn in Kris’s eyes had been enough for Minseok to understand a hint of what he and Jongin must have been feeling. He catches Lu Han’s eyes before they both look away, turning in unison to the clock.
Five minutes.
Yixing stirs, blinking sleepily up at Lu Han. What time is it? Minseok thinks he mouths to Lu Han in Chinese, because Lu Han nods at the clock and says something back too quietly for Minseok to catch. Kris shifts between them, and his and Jongin’s breathing is loud in the room.
When the speakers sound, the collective flinch is almost funny in how expected it is. Minseok’s eyes dart around the room - there might be repeats - they’d said, and the words echo through his mind now from the way Joonmyun rests a hand comfortingly on Jongin’s back, the way Sehun curls tighter into himself, Jongdae’s eyes closed lightly as Tao stiffens and grips at Jongdae’s hand. Kris meets his eyes for a fleeting moment, before Minseok looks away, but not before seeing the protective curl of Lu Han’s arm around Yixing’s shoulders. What a good gege, Minseok thinks to himself.
At least, until he hears:
“Number 1-”
He lets his head fall back against the wall, the breath of air he hadn’t realised he’d been holding falling apart in a slow exhale.
“-and Number 2.
Without looking, he knows it’s Lu Han. A slow numbness fills him as he opens his eyes. Lu Han’s eyes are wide and unfocused, and Minseok’s lips press together in resignation.
It is only faintly that he hears the speaker comment in an amused voice that “the bread isn’t poisoned, you know,” as he drops his gaze to his feet.
“Lu Han.” It’s Yixing’s voice. Kris is leaning against the wall, knees up and hands clasped, his breathing harsh. “Lu Han.” More insistent this time, as Yixing shakes Lu Han’s shoulder.
Minseok gets slowly to his feet. There are nine pairs of eyes on him, he thinks. He doesn’t look.
There’s a soft shuffle as Lu Han stands up as well. “dui bu qi,” he hears Kris say softly. Sorry. Minseok exhales. Lu Han chuckles.
“bu yong xie,” Lu Han says, and Minseok wonders if there’s another meaning to those words beyond you’re welcome.
“Let’s go,” he says quietly, and turns to the smaller room without waiting for Lu Han to follow him.
He is distinctively aware of two things, as Lu Han closes the door behind him: that they are the oldest, and how clearly he can hear Lu Han’s breaths.
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“I’m sorry.” Lu Han’s Korean is soft around the edges, his arms are soft around Minseok’s waist, and his breath is soft against Minseok’s neck. Minseok’s heart is pounding in his chest, and he can’t tell if the pulse is his or Lu Han’s.
“I like you, just as a friend,” Lu Han murmurs.
Minseok lets out a harsh laugh. “It doesn’t matter now,” he says. He walks away from Lu Han’s loose grasp and sits heavily on the mattress. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Lu Han stands for a moment, his head down and arms hanging loosely by his side. Minseok avoids his eyes - there are too many misunderstandings here, too many missed words and missed touches, but they have known each other for years and Minseok knows what Lu Han does not say. A moment, and then Lu Han begins methodically unbuttoning his jeans, kicking his pants off, tugging his shirt over his head until he’s standing there in nothing but his underwear. Lu Han’s arms are well muscled and toned, and his abs ripple under his skin with every movement. This is not the first time Minseok has seen his bandmate shirtless.
“You…” Lu Han speaks hesitantly, licks his lips. “You should take off your clothes too.”
“I know,” Minseok says, as if they were discussing the weather.
He takes off his shirt first, and then his pants, and only then does he notice that his hands are trembling. He swallows. A quick glance tells him that Lu Han is shaking as well, that the Chinese boy is resolutely not meeting his eyes, and that despite himself, there is a growing bulge in his briefs. Minseok chuckles, but it is not one of amusement.
He’s barely gotten his pants off before Lu Han walks over and pushes him back until he’s lying down on the mattress. The mattress isn’t uncomfortable, and Lu Han brushes against the insides of his thighs.
It is unavoidable to meet his eyes now, and Minseok wonders at the apology there. He looks away.
“Just…close your eyes,” Lu Han says. His voice trembles under the effort to hold it steady. “It might be easier if you pretend I’m a girl.”
Minseok doesn’t know what to say about that, so he complies. They are going to have sex. They will have sex. There is probably someone watching. At some point, Lu Han (or had it been Chanyeol? Or both? ) had run his fingers across the walls, peering into cracks, but had come up negative for any cameras. That didn’t mean there weren’t any. If someone was capable of getting twelve not-unknown young men on their way to performing at a concert and into some creepy ass locked room, forcing them to have sex with each other under the threat of death - well, he doubted that installing cameras they couldn’t find was too difficult of an ordeal.
Lu Han still hasn’t touched him. Minseok opens his eyes and props himself up on his elbows, giving the other boy a questioning look. Lu Han is sitting back on his haunches, his arms resting loosely against his thighs, his fingers laced tightly together. Even from this distance, Minseok can see the way Lu Han’s nails dig into the back of his hands. The way Lu Han’s chin trembles. The way his eyes stare at his hands, without seeing anything at all.
It’s a look Minseok knows well. It’s a look they all know well.
He clears his throat awkwardly. “Hey…” he begins, and Lu Han’s head jerks up as if a firecracker had sounded somewhere in the room, his eyes wide and startled, his lips parted ever so slightly, a hint of pink tongue just visible. If Lu Han had been a girl, it would have been a very pretty look. It’s not the first time Minseok’s thought it - but being an idol, these things become open conversation. It’s easier to acknowledge the things everyone talks about instead of brushing it away. Or, to put it another way, it’s impossible to brush it away.
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The words you don’t have to are almost on the tip of Minseok’s tongue, but that’s stupid, because that’s false, because “we have to.”
“I know.” And this time, the smile on Lu Han’s face is the one for the cameras, the one that makes his eyes crinkle prettily, his cheeks puff up, shows a flash of teeth. The one that Minseok can’t help but smile back at - it’s almost Pavlovian, camera ready in a heartbeat.
“Close your eyes,” Lu Han says again, but Minseok shakes his head.
“It’s okay,” he says. He believes it. In a way. “Just…the faster we do this…”
Lu Han seems to hesitate, his fingers tightening around themselves before he nods, hand reaching out slowly for Minseok’s cock lying flaccid between his legs, but stopping an inch or two away.
Minseok bites his lip. “Should I…?” he says, one hand sneaking down, but Lu Han shakes his head, and before Minseok has a chance to register what’s happening, there’s a hot, wet mouth around the head of Minseok’s cock and he slams his head back in surprise with a groan.
Lu Han was right. Maybe he should close his eyes.
His elbows give out under him, and Minseok lies there on his back, his knees slightly raised, feet flat against the floor. There’s a mouth around his cock, sucking, tongue lapping at the head in a way that makes him moan whether he wants to or not. A hand on his balls, the touch sending a wave of electricity against his skin, lips that tighten around his cock and slide up and down, slick and hot and messy.
It takes a while for him to remember that it’s Lu Han’s mouth on the other end.
He tries to imagine that it’s a girl. He’d dated a girl, once. She’d been a trainee too. He’d been a trainee for maybe a year, maybe more, maybe less. Long enough that it seemed like he’d been there forever, but not long enough to feel like he was losing hope.
“It’s hard to date once you’ve debuted,” she’d said, and taken his hand in hers and looked up at him all shyly through her lashes, smiling her with her pretty pink lips and they’d been close enough he could see the make-up on her face. “Oppa.”
They’d had sex a few times. Nothing adventurous. He doesn’t remember how they broke up - they never really broke up. She’d left the company, and here he still was, getting sucked off by a band mate. She’d never given him a blowjob. He wonders if it would be much different. Maybe the hand around his shaft right now would be more delicate, but Lu Han’s fingers are fine and pretty just like any girl’s, and the way they twist and slide in conjunction with the tongue teasing his slit is smooth and firm, and it’s hard to imagine it’s a girl because Minseok doesn’t know what it’d be like if it was a girl.
“Lu…Lu Han.” His words stutter, and when he opens his eyes, Lu Han lets Minseok’s cock fall out of his mouth with a wet sound, sitting back to look at him.
“Yeah?”
Minseok doesn’t trust his voice. He opens his mouth, swallows, tries it again. “Maybe we should…”
This time, Lu Han’s smile is the one he saves for when they’re at home, the one he has when he’s on the phone with his parents, on chat with one of his old friends. It’s a soft smile that reaches his eyes, but what’s there isn’t joy, only resignation.
“You need to be hard first,” Lu Han says, as if he’s discussing their flight schedule, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and Minseok is mostly hard, but that doesn’t stop Lu Han from wrapping a fist around Minseok’s cock and giving it another slow pump.
Minseok swallows. “Let me,” he says.
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“You’re enjoying this.” Minseok doesn’t mean to say it, but he says it anyway, and a stone of guilt drops in his stomach when Lu Han looks at him and shakes his head.
“I…I don’t. I’m not,” he says. Lu Han’s eyes are trembling as he crawls over to where Minseok is still lying, hand around his cock. From somewhere nearby, Lu Han tosses him a small square package.
“Condom,” Lu Han says, as if it weren’t obvious. Minseok arches an eyebrow. Lu Han rolls his eyes. “Put it on.”
“I know what to do with a condom,” Minseok says. “I’m not a virgin.”
“That’s good.” Lu Han speaks calmly, and Minseok becomes uncomfortably aware a second too late of his own short words.
Minseok tears open the package and looks away. “I’m sorry,” he says. Lu Han hums a response.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, and Minseok swallows as he rolls the condom over his cock with shaking hands.
“What now?” he says. His cock is stiff and wet with a mix of saliva and precome, and it sounds like a dumb question, and it probably is.
Lu Han answers by gently pushing him back onto the mattress. Lu Han’s eyes are focused somewhere down at his stomach as he straddles Minseok’s body, before slowly lowering himself onto Minseok’s dick.
It feels nothing like Eunmi.
Lu Han is tight and hot around him, and Minseok squeezes his eyes shut. A band of pressure tightens around his cock, and Minseok groans at the sensation. It’s not supposed to feel this good.
Fingers flutter near Minseok’s hips before they settle in firmly, gripping around the sharp jut of bone, digging into the soft give of flesh and Minseok lets out a shuddering breath. Lu Han moans, soft and desperate, and Minseok tries to close his eyes even tighter, as if it will block out the sounds that slip out of Lu Han’s mouth, the same ones he sometimes hears when he accidentally walks into the bathroom when Lu Han’s in the shower, first thing in the morning and he knows he should say something but instead he just backs out as fast as he can.
“There was this girl,” Minseok suddenly remembers Lu Han saying. 2009, he thinks. Or maybe 2010. Eunmi had just left, and Minseok was a little drunk, and Lu Han was drunk on exhaustion beside him. He’d paused, rested his chin against Minseok’s shoulder, the same way his fingers are digging into his hips now, rough, jagged, unsure. “There was this girl I liked. Everyone knew I liked her. She did too.”
“What happened?”
Lu Han had shrugged. “Nothing. We graduated. I went to Korea. She went to Beijing Tech. She was always too good for me. I think…that’s what I liked about her.”
A sharp roll of Lu Han’s hips has Minseok groaning, his fingers digging into the mattress as Lu Han clenches around his cock. There’s a thin sheen of sweat against Lu Han’s neck and his eyes are barely closed, and with each slide of Lu Han’s ass against his length, Lu Han moans softly, and Minseok feels pleasure wind at the base of his stomach almost against his will.
“I think…it’s better to want something you can’t have, than to have something you don’t want.” Lu Han had said this slowly, as if he’d been struggling for the words, but the way his finger had traced a slow pattern against Minseok’s thigh suggested a struggle for something else entirely.
“What if you have what you want?”
“But that never really happens, does it?”
It’s happening right now, Minseok thinks, but by this point, he’s not thinking so much as feeling the hot pressure around his cock, the smooth friction, the heat, and his cock is so, so hard and there’s a heady rush as he gasps, and suddenly he’s coming so hard there are stars in his eyes as he moans, his hips bucking up as he thrusts into Lu Han’s ass, orgasm spilling over in a rush of pleasure and release. His body falls limply against the mattress, his limbs still tingling as he feels everything go soft.
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He sinks into a crouch, head against his knees. There is talking in the other room. Maybe they’re waiting for them to come out. They should have given them the medicine by now, right? Jongin and Kris…they should be okay for now, right?
Minseok laughs silently, bitterly. Okay for now. None of this was okay.
Lu Han stirs behind him, and Minseok dresses quickly, tucking his cock into his underwear without a second glance.
“Are you…okay?” Lu Han asks, and Minseok pastes a smile on his face before he turns around.
Lu Han is smiling as well, and Minseok blinks, as he lets the muscles in his face slide back into place. A moment later, Lu Han does the same.
“Honestly?” Minseok asks, but presses his lips together as soon as the words leave his mouth. He shakes his head, and hands Lu Han the rest of his clothes instead.
“I’m sorry,” Lu Han says. The shells of his eyes are moist, as if he’s going to cry. Minseok knows Lu Han better than that.
So, “I’m sorry too,” Minseok says.
He turns around, and opens the door.
-
u_u
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“What if you have what you want?”
“But that never really happens, does it?”
It’s happening right now, Minseok thinks
that entire part just slayed me u__u thank you for filling this, and wonderful job
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you have broken me
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