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It takes twelve hours after getting the vaccine for the symptoms to show up. Everyone had told Seungmin to lay off work for the day, but he hadn’t listened, predictably. And so his vocal lesson of the day gets cut short when the fever strikes.
He’s shivering and sweaty by the time Changbin picks him up. His eyes, his mouth, his hands all feel an uncomfortable kind of warm, but his teeth clatter like he’s in a snowstorm.
“God, you’re so dumb. Didn’t I tell you to stay home today?” Changbin scolds him.
Seungmin shrugs. Despite his annoyance, Changbin carries most of Seungmin’s weight, holding him up all the way to his dorm. The motions become a haze in Seungmin’s muddled brain. He tries shedding his clothes when Changbin leaves him in his room, but his arms feel too weak to even lift his hoodie. Pathetically, he sits on the edge of the bed and sighs.
Changbin comes back with a glass full of water, an ibuprofen, and a frown. He puts everything aside and chides him some more before helping Seungmin out of some layers of clothing. In a minute he’s left in a t-shirt and boxers.
“You’re really burning up. Take this, okay?” he guides Seungmin to sit against the bed’s headboard and hands him the ibuprofen.
Seungmin throws the pill past his burning lips and gulps down half the water offered to him.
“Hyung,” he mumbles, unsure himself of what he means to say. “I’m fine. You can get back to work if you want.”
“You’re not fine,” Changbin says. He nudges his shoulder until Seungmin lays down on the pillows. As a testament to how feverish he really is, only then does he realize that this isn’t his bed or his room at all.
It’s Changbin’s. The familiar smell coating the pillows and all around him immediately lulls him into a sense of calm.
“I’ll be alright,” he amends after a minute of nuzzling further into the bed.
Changbin’s fingers feel cold against his skin when he brushes away the hair strands stuck to his sweaty forehead. Sighing again, this time half contented and half in pain, Seungmin leans into the touch. A thumb swipes across his cheekbone.
“You can’t kick me out of my own room,” he points out. “We should bring your temperature down. I’ll bring you a wet towel, yeah? Be right back.”
Seungmin barely processes the words, but he whines at the loss of contact when Changbin pulls away. He presses the side of his face against the pillows and takes a deep breath, blinking to keep himself awake. God, of all possible symptoms, fevers are the worst. The air feels like sandpaper on his skin and his shirt clings stubbornly to his back.
He’s halfway through taking the t-shirt off when Changbin comes back into the room and helps him with it. He hooks his fingers on the hem and pulls it over Seungmin’s arms and head with devastating care.
“Okay, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he whispers into Seungmin’s ear, smoothing a palm down his shoulder. “Lay back down for me. Good, there you go. Why don’t you try to sleep?”
There’s a rush of coolness from where Changbin carefully presses the wet towel on Seungmin’s forehead. Seungmin closes his eyes and lets himself be taken care of. The violent shivers than run through his body every few seconds leave him weak and on the edge of sobbing. This is awful. He just wants it to stop.
He drifts in and out of sleep for the next several minutes. Changbin brings another wet towel and pats it on Seungmin’s chest and shoulders. Seungmin watches him through lidded eyes, and his stomach churns when he truly realizes the gentle way in which Changbin treats him. His breath fans over his face as he dabs the towel across his collarbones, over the curve of his shoulders, on the sides of his neck. It leaves a path of goosebumps behind.
As the ibuprofen takes effect and the shivers die down, Seungmin’s exhausted brain only wants Changbin closer. He paws at Changbin’s wrist, trying to deliver the message, but he just shushes him and lightly swipes the towel down his chest. Seungmin pouts. Touch me properly, he thinks, yet fails to say.
“Didn’t I tell you to sleep?” Changbin says. Unbridled fondness coats his voice, and Seungmin much prefers that instead of the deep worry from before.
“Don’t wanna,” he mutters.
Changbin pauses, dropping the towel on Seungmin’s stomach to turn the one on his forehead onto the colder side. He presses the back of his knuckles against his cheek, and Seungmin grabs his wrist and keeps him there.
“You’re still too warm,” he says, letting Seungmin nuzzle into his hand. “When you have some energy maybe you could take a shower. That should help.”
“No.”
“No?”
“I’m fine here,” Seungmin insists. “You can take care of my temperature.”
Changbin huffs. “Ah, I forgot how bossy you can get when you’re ill.” He pokes at Seungmin’s cheek, shaking his head. “Fine. Can you sit up for me?”
Seungmin obeys wordlessly. With Changbin perched on the edge of the bed, Seungmin sits up and lets him hold his weight, dropping his head until it rests on his shoulder. Changbin pets his hair with one hand and dabs the cool towel down his back with the other. Seungmin shivers at the sudden feeling, before crumbling in Changbin’s hold.
He smells so good all of this seems worth it. The way Changbin drags the towel along the curve of Seungmin’s spine has his head spinning for reasons entirely unrelated to the fever. His hands are certain yet gentle. His warmth, unlike the heat simmering under Seungmin’s skin, is comfortable as it envelops him from various angles. In the quiet of Changbin’s room, Seungmin finds himself in the juncture between being miserable and feeling so loved he could choke on it.
Seungmin gathers all his strength to pull at Changbin’s shirt so the collar is stretched wider. Mindlessly, lazily, he kisses across the tan skin, again and again and again as long as Changbin doesn’t stop him. He follows the line of his collarbone up to the crook of his neck, then higher until he finds Changbin’s steady pulse. Seungmin drags his mouth over soft skin, breathing in the scent of Changbin’s soap.
“What are you doing?” Changbin asks in a low voice, right next to his ear. Seungmin shrugs to the best of his ability. “Your lips are warm. Want some water?”
What is he talking about?
“No,” Seungmin scoffs, pulling back just one or two inches. “Kiss me.”
He feels distraught when Changbin huffs a laugh instead of immediately leaning closer. “Where do all your manners go when you’re ill?”
Seungmin doesn’t grace that with an answer. He raises an eyebrow and Stares until finally, finally Changbin dips forward and kisses him. It’s true that Seungmin must be warm, because Changbin’s mouth is cooler than his. But it’s still heavenly, as it has been every other time—it still fits perfectly against his own, it still makes his heart jump. Changbin kisses him so gently it’s devastating, yet it’s even worse when he draws back. He doesn’t even give in when Seungmin chases after him.
Why is he suddenly so mean?
“Now you wanna kiss?” Changbin says. “You should be resting.”
“No rest. Feel better already,” Seungmin swears. “Kiss me again.”
It’s good to know that, even sweaty and flushed and weak to the bone, Seungmin remains someone Changbin can’t say no to. They cycle through several repetitions of the same thing—‘You should rest.’ ‘Kiss me.’—with Changbin giving in every single time until Seungmin is breathless and his lips are slick with spit.
He licks at the seam of Changbin’s mouth until he gives in, and obediently parts his lips for Seungmin to sink his tongue into his mouth. Seungmin lifts a weak hand and curls his fingers in the short hair at the back of Changbin’s head, pulling him closer. Changbin hums into the kiss and holds him up by the waist with one arm.
Curse his body for still feeling like shit. Changbin brings everything to a halt the moment Seungmin makes the tiniest noise of discomfort. He sighs, presses his lips to Seungmin’s forehead, and firmly pushes him down against the pillows once more.
“That’s it, I mean it,” he says. “If you don’t want to sleep, we just have to wait until the fever breaks. How do you feel?”
Seungmin considers his options. The ghost feeling of Changbin’s hands on him has left something stirring in his gut.
“Awful,” he replies eventually. “Distract me until I’m better.”
“How should I do that? Wanna watch TV?”
That is obviously not at all what Seungmin wants right now. For all answer, he grabs one of Changbin’s wrists and brings his hand to his face. He kisses the palm, the knuckles and the tips of his fingers before dragging Changbin’s hand down his chest and his abdomen, towards the waistband of his boxers.
Changbin freezes when he finally gets it, and Seungmin inwardly smirks at the startled look on his face.
“Seungmin-ah,” he warns. “You must be delirious.”
“I’m not.”
Changbin isn’t convinced. He does a halfhearted attempt at removing his hand from Seungmin’s grasp. “We’re not going to… while you’re feverish. You can’t even think clearly.”
“Hyung, the medicine works, my head is clear right now,” Seungmin says, looking straight into his eyes. “I want this.”
It is true that, while his body still aches and his skin feels raw and burning, the fever has gone down enough for Seungmin to be able to think properly. Otherwise he wouldn’t have realized the effects Changbin’s treatment was having on him.
Changbin, however, hesitates.
“You need your energy, I don’t think doing anything will be good for you.”
“You don’t want to do it?”
The pause that follows is just long enough for Seungmin to think, Got you. All of Changbin’s little tells are on full display in front of him. The dart of his tongue to lick his lips; the guilty glance down Seungmin’s almost naked body; the unconscious twitch of his hands; the bob of his Adam’s apple.
“That’s not what I said.”
“Then what’s the matter?” Seungmin prompts.
“I…”
The thing is, being feverish and being turned on have some things in common—Seungmin is vulnerable and sensitive and heat pools in every corner of his being and he wants. The ghost of Changbin’s mouth on his keeps him wanting. He needs it everywhere.
“If you won’t do it,” Seungmin says, “then I will.”
“What?”
In lieu of a response, Seungmin lets go of Changbin’s hand to pull off his own boxers. Changbin makes a choked protest at the back of his throat, but Seungmin ignores it. Throwing the underwear to a random corner of the room, he reaches for the bedside table and produces a small bottle from the drawer.
“You don’t have to stay,” he tells a gaping Changbin. “But you can watch if you want.”
“What are you doing? And why are you already…” Changbin shoots a look at Seungmin’s crotch.
He’s half hard already. At some other point he might’ve been embarrassed, but right now Seungmin is pretty convinced this is all Changbin’s fault. This reaction is the only reasonable outcome.
With the bottle of lube in one hand, he reaches for his dick with the other, and hisses at the slightest contact. As he’d expected, his skin is too sensitive for this to be comfortable. Ignoring Changbin’s warning nudge on his thigh, Seungmin coats his fingers with some lube. The next time he touches his dick, the cool feeling pulls a sigh from his lips.
He wraps his fingers around himself and starts a slow up and down. Soon he’s fully hard, hot and throbbing in his hand. Seungmin throws his head back and quickens the pace. His breathing grows quick and uneven, and small noises of pleasure slip from his mouth. He doesn’t try to stop them. There’s nobody else at the dorm except Changbin to hear him, so there’s no need to be quiet.
And he knows first hand what hearing him does to Changbin.
Seungmin cracks an eye open and finds Changbin watching his every move, transfixed and a little scandalized. His hands are tight fists on his lap, and he doesn’t seem to be aware of what he’s doing when he licks his lips. The attention has Seungmin flushing all the way from his ears down to his chest. He swipes his thumb over the head of his dick and quickens the pace, panting heavily.
It’s a thrill of its own, to be watched like this. Changbin’s always had a way to follow him everywhere with his gaze, sometimes without even realizing, which used to make Seungmin stupidly nervous. Now, instead, he relishes it. He holds back a smirk at the confirmation that in Changbin’s eyes he’s something worth admiring like this. Being exposed and observed in such an intimate way makes his stomach twist.
But it’s not enough. Nothing will be enough as long as Changbin stays there without touching him. Seungmin slows down as soon as he feels himself getting close, whining in frustration.
“Hyung. Why won’t you touch me?”
He faintly hears the hitch in Changbin’s breathing. “Baby, you’re not feeling well. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Stupid, caring idiot.
“You won’t,” Seungmin insists. He leans up on his elbow to look Changbin in the eye. “Please, I want this. I want you to fuck me.”
Changbin’s eyes go wide. He’s still so prudish sometimes.
“Seungmin-”
“I’ll even get myself ready for you, yeah? Look.”
He stops jerking himself off, coats his fingers with more lube, and shifts until he can reach around. Changbin’s eyebrows raise high into his forehead. Clicking his tongue, Seungmin prods at his entrance with the pads of his fingers. Slow and a little awkwardly, he slides the first finger past the tight ring of muscle.
He sighs, barely moving until he gets used to the intrusion. Then he brings the second one in, tensing up before relaxing again. His fingers start slow in and out motions, and soon he’s panting at the slide of skin against his walls. Wet, kind of filthy sounds fill the room together with his tiny whimpers.
This would be so much easier if Changbin would just do it himself. But they’re a stubborn bunch, the both of them. Seungmin makes sure Changbin is watching as he slides the third finger in. The stretch is uncomfortable only for a few seconds. Seungmin gradually melts into the pillows, pumping his fingers in and out of himself, relishing the feeling of being filled even if it’s not the way he’d like it.
It’s true, however, that the fever had left him with barely any energy left. In just a couple of minutes his muscles start trembling under the strain. The bed sheets feel rough against his skin whenever he moves, and he’s covered in sweat again. With all of this, though, it’s still not enough. He needs more.
“Hyung, fuck me already, come on.”
“You- you’re such a pain, oh my god,” Changbin grumbles, running a hand over his face. “I can’t touch you like that when you’re ill. It can’t be good for you.”
Seungmin halfheartedly glares at him through heavy eyelids.
“I know I’m ill, but you could make me feel better. You could make me feel good,” he argues, voice choked. “Why won’t you- hah- why won’t you just do it?”
Changbin looks at the ceiling. “I’m doing my fucking best to hold back for your own good—but you’re making it really damn difficult.”
“I don’t need you to hold back, that’s the point,” Seungmin says.
Growing even more frustrated, he stops fingering himself and takes a moment to regain his breath. Then he reaches for the bedside table again, and he brings out something that makes Changbin swear under his breath.
It’s the silicone dildo Changbin had teased him open with a few weeks back. Trusting it will do a better job than his fingers, Seungmin lathers it up in lube. Not once does he take his eyes off Changbin, who starts furiously chewing on his bottom lip, jaw and shoulders tense.
“This could be you, hyung.”
Seungmin settles back against the pillows and holds his breath as he positions the head of the dildo against his asshole. He should do this more carefully, but he runs out of patience and pushes the dildo all the way in in a single thrust. The sudden stretch burns, making him hiss through his teeth.
Changbin’s hand flies to his thigh. “God, at least be careful.”
Seungmin shrugs him off. What’s a little more discomfort? His body already feels like it’s been put through the wringer. And anyway, with the way all his attention zeroes on the weight of Changbin’s hand on his thigh, any uncomfortable sensation vanishes. Seungmin only manages to wait until he’s mostly adjusted to start fucking himself with the dildo. It is much better than his fingers, filling him up properly, pulling moans out of him as it drags against the tight walls of muscle.
“Changbin-hyung… fuck.”
Seungmin is too rushed to mimic the way Changbin fucks him. He’s always more thorough with him, sometimes slow and steady, sometimes so rough Seungmin sees stars, but all the while he reaches spots Seungmin can’t seem to find.
“Seungminnie, I’m seriously…”
Tears gather in Seungmin’s eyes. “Please, please, hyung, I need you to fuck me, please. I can’t-” he chokes on a broken moan. “I want you inside me, please, this isn’t… it’s not the same-”
Heat pools in his lower belly, his toes curl, and Seungmin can feel the orgasm coming. Somehow this is only more frustrating. He doesn’t want to cum, he wants Changbin, and in the more irrational, fever-flooded parts of his mind this all feels terribly cruel.
“Please…”
They all mean it, when they say Seungmin is the most aggravating one out of the whole group. It’s deceiving, because he has a cute face and a charming smile and a soft voice, so you’d think he must be a delight. And that’s where you’d be dead wrong.
It’s also really fucking inconvenient, because years ago Changbin decided that was precisely the one he was going to care for into oblivion. It quickly devolved into Seungmin worming his way into the very core of Changbin’s heart before proclaiming it his own—without realizing, mostly—and Changbin hasn’t known peace since then.
This, right now, is certainly the furthest he’s ever been from peace.
He closes his eyes and still fails to escape it. Seungmin is never this loud of his own accord. What had started as little pants and whimpers that made Changbin’s stomach churn is now full-out, shameless whining. His words are slurred, incoherently strung together—each takes away more of Changbin’s sanity. This must be some kind of cosmic punishment for something he’s done very wrong. When Seungmin adds a pleading tone to his rambling, Changbin almost evaporates on the spot.
He opens his eyes and immediately bites back a curse. Seungmin is flushed red all the way down to his chest, a thin layer of sweat collecting on his forehead, making his hair stick to his skin and ruining all of Changbin’s work to wipe him clean before. His chest heaves rapidly, his mouth stays parted open, slick with spit. He’d spread his knees apart so everything he’s doing is in full display for Changbin to watch.
Changbin runs a hand through his hair just to make sure he’s keeping his hands to himself. He’s bitten his lips raw, and no matter how hard he tries, his eyes keep drifting south. If they don’t land on Seungmin’s throbbing dick dripping on his stomach, they go to his hand pumping the dildo in and out of himself.
By this point Changbin is dizzy, aching with lust. It quite literally aches inside his pants. It’s with great will-strength and a lot of pinching his own thigh that he keeps reminding himself Seungmin is too weak to actually withstand having sex. Probably. No, definitely. Fuck. He’s not sure anymore. He doesn’t even want to be.
But Changbin will not break.
“Hyung, please,” Seungmin sobs. “I promise… I’ll rest later.”
He will not break. (His eyebrow twitches. Seungmin arches his back just slightly, pushing the dildo deeper into himself. It makes a filthy sound.)
“It’s not- it’s not the same if it’s not you. I… hah… I want your dick, hyung, please.”
He. Will. Not. Break. (He’s the worst person on earth. How dare he deny Seungmin of anything? He’s never even made him beg.)
“Shit, shit, I’m…” Seungmin voice raises half an octave. “Close… I’m going to…”
Changbin sees red.
“Ah, fuck that.”
His body snaps into motion like a rubber band under too much strain. He slaps Seungmin’s hands away, gathers his wrists and holds them together above his stomach with one hand, getting him to freeze with a broken gasp. Nudging Seungmin’s knees farther apart, Changbin positions himself in between his legs.
Seungmin is silent all of a sudden, struggling to catch his breath. His eyes, however, soon go from surprised to something big and pleading, and the message is clear.
“You are,” Changbin says, leaning over him to pin his arms above his head, “the most unbearable,” he runs his free hand over Seungmin’s thigh, “obstinate,” he hovers close to Seungmin’s ear, “insufferable person I have ever met.”
He lets go of Seungmin’s wrists to wipe at the stray tears clinging to his lashes. God, no one should be allowed to be this beautiful. Even towering over him like this, with the brat pliant and at his mercy, he has Changbin on his knees, in the palm of his hand.
Changbin brings his lips to his temple, his cheekbone, the corner of his mouth, and then trails a wandering path down his neck, collarbones and chest. Seungmin heaves a full-body sigh, going soft against the pillows. The sweetest little noise escapes him when Changbin swirls his tongue on one of his nipples.
One of Changbin’s hands finds purchase on Seungmin’s waist. The other one, while he moves to the other nipple, finds the base of the dildo where it’s still buried in Seungmin’s ass. He’d initially meant to slide it out right away. However, Seungmin breathes a tiny whimper when Changbin jostles the dildo the barest amount—that’s enough to convince him against the pacifist route for once.
He takes the dildo out halfway before sliding it back in, slow and steady. Seungmin gasps, lifting his head to look at him. Changbin makes sure to have all his attention on the gorgeous boy’s face when he repeats the motion. The way his mouth falls slack, the way his eyes flutter closed… all of it is too perfect for anyone’s good.
“What… are you doing?”
Changbin smirks. He begins slowly fucking Seungmin with the dildo, in no hurry to build a quicker pace.
“Why? I’m having fun, aren’t you?”
He slides his free hand down to Seungmin’s hip, tracing with his thumb the glorious shape of his hipbone jutting under the skin. He skirts his fingers across his thigh, hooks his hand under his knee, and follows the same path with his mouth next. Distantly, he makes note of the fact that Seungmin is still considerably warm, if not half as feverish as he was at the beginning.
“I thought… ah, hyung… I thought you were going to fuck me,” Seungmin whines. He curls his fists on the sheets and trembles after a particularly deep thrust.
“Well, I never said that, did I.”
“Oh, come on.”
Changbin shakes his head with a devilish smile. Still working the silicone dick in and out of Seungmin’s ass, he decides to take this up another notch.
Seungmin closes his eyes, and Changbin takes the opportunity. He bends lower and wraps his mouth around the head of Seungmin’s cock.
“Fuck!”
A violent shiver wrecks Seungmin’s body at the touch. Changbin hums in satisfaction and circles his tongue around the head, wrapping his fingers at the base of his dick, intent on breaking Seungmin apart.
“What are you… hyung, oh my god.” His voice comes out wavering and thin, and the end of the sentence morphs into a high-pitched moan that Changbin might remember forever.
He lets go of Seungmin’s dick with a lewd pop, then he licks a long stripe from the base to the tip a few times, purely for the thrill of tasting him. Before Seungmin can get used to any of it, Changbin speeds up the thrusts with the dildo, which makes him arch off the bed with a string of curses and whimpers.
Maybe he’s enjoying this a little too much. Still, Changbin figures he can probably push it a little further, for all his troubles. He swipes his tongue over Seungmin’s slit and then dutifully takes him in his mouth. Seungmin jerks in his hold, making a high keening sound from the back of his throat. Every time they have sex, Changbin feels like he has the mission to find out what kind of noises he can get from him. He’s never disappointed.
He bobs his head up and down a few times, in time with the thrusts of the dildo. Seungmin fails several attempts at speaking a coherent word, and eventually he gives up, tangling a hand tightly in Changbin’s hair. When he pulls, Changbin almost chokes on a groan.
He raises his head, letting go of Seungmin’s dick to quirk an eyebrow at him. Seungmin tugs at his hair more insistently.
“I can’t…” he rasps. God, he sounds positively wrecked already. “Please. Please just fuck me.”
At the end of everything, no matter how far Changbin is pushed, he is still a weak man. Giving in to Seungmin’s demands feels like coming home, it feels right.
He kisses Seungmin’s hipbone and holds him still as he takes the dildo all the way out. He tosses it aside on the bed, sitting up to lower his pants and underwear. Seungmin watches expectantly the whole time.
Changbin sighs as he frees his painfully hard cock from the clothes. He grabs the lube and smears a generous amount over himself before returning to his place between Seungmin’s legs. Holding his knees apart, he nudges the head against Seungmin’s rim and slowly, carefully inches forward.
For once, Seungmin is quiet, but his mouth is open around a soundless gasp, eyes tightly squeezed shut. Changbin breathes through his teeth, digging his fingers into Seungmin’s flesh to keep himself grounded. As heat and wetness surround his throbbing dick, he feels the last traces of sanity vanishing.
“Fuck,” he groans breathlessly as he bottoms out. “You’re so… You feel so good, Seungminnie.”
The boy whimpers. “Move then.”
Changbin nods, presses a kiss to his collarbone, and gradually pulls out almost all the way before pushing back in. The ridges of the muscle sliding against Changbin’s skin send electric sparks all throughout his body. When Seungmin opens his eyes, they’re filled with tears again.
He’s the most beautiful person in the world and Changbin gets to have him. Changbin gets to see him naked and panting, folded in half and squirming against the bed sheets. Changbin gets to fuck him, starting out slow and gentle, a steady pace of thrusting in and out that makes them both breathless. He’s the most beautiful person in the world, but Changbin is the luckiest.
Finally, when he thinks Seungmin’s had enough time to get comfortable, he adjusts the angle slightly before slamming forward. There. Seungmin’s eyes roll backward and his hands fly to his mouth, but they don’t manage to muffle the broken cry ripped from his throat. It bounces on the walls and sends a thrill down Changbin’s spine. His vision swims, his hips start moving back and forth of their own accord.
The fever must have done a lot to bring Seungmin’s defenses down. He gives up on trying to cover his face and brings his hands to claw at Changbin’s back instead. Changbin gets to watch him unabashedly—the sheen of saliva coating his lips, the dark pit of lust in his blown pupils, the slight furrow of his brow when he pulls back and the O shape of his mouth when he hits the perfect spot.
White flashing heat coils in the depths of his stomach. Changbin barely manages to not ram into Seungmin too roughly, even if his mindless pleas sound something like harder, harder. Skin slaps against skin with lewd noises. Changbin bends Seungmin until his knees almost hit his shoulders, distantly grateful for the boy’s elasticity.
“Hyung, hyung-” Seungmin is openly sobbing by this point. It’s pathetic in a way that shouldn’t be so arousing.
“Baby,” Changbin pants. “It’s okay, I got you. You gonna cum?”
Unbidden tears fall from the corner of Seungmin’s eyes towards his hairline. His lips are swollen with how hard he’s bitten them. He’s breathtaking—Changbin wants to swallow him whole.
“Are you- ah- close?”
Changbin clicks his tongue. “Yeah. Just- just a little more.”
Seungmin nods, choking on another sob. When he throws his head back, Changbin nips at his neck, licking over his pulse and breathing in his scent. His thrusts grow more erratic and desperate by the second, and Seungmin’s whines more high pitched. Finally Changbin drops his forehead on his collarbone, huffing for air.
He slams particularly hard on Seungmin’s weak spot and the boy comes between both their stomachs with a cry turned moan that leaves him shattered, trembling. He clenches tight around Changbin, and that’s the end of him. Changbin closes his eyes and white fills the back of his eyelids as the orgasm crashes through him. He rolls his hips a few more times to ride it out, and Seungmin whimpers at the over-stimulation.
Slowly, practically breathing into each other’s mouths, they both come down from the high. Seungmin can barely keep his eyes open. As soon as he shakily comes back into himself, Changbin pulls out carefully, feeling softened to the bone. Seungmin lowers his legs, presses his cheek against the pillow and hiccups.
For a minute Changbin just sits there and looks at him. His fingertips are still tingling with the aftershocks of his orgasm, his muscles pleasantly burning from the effort. Spread out over his sheets, naked and stained and teary, Seungmin is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
Eventually he gathers the strength to clean them both up. He takes care of Seungmin first, so he can burrow into the pillows and rest as soon as possible, and then he sheds his own sweaty clothes and cleans himself. He’s putting on his pajamas when Seungmin cracks an eye open and reaches a hand in his general direction.
“Where’re you goin’?” he slurs, barely moving his mouth.
Changbin smiles, grabbing his hand. “Nowhere, baby.”
With what little strength he has left, Seungmin pulls on his hand, and Changbin obediently follows until he’s sitting next to him on the bed. He brings his lips to Seungmin’s forehead and relaxes upon confirming his fever is practically gone.
“We sleep now. C’mere.”
“Oh.”
His chest tightens and he feels inclined to break down and bawl over how strongly he feels for this stupid singer. Instead, Changbin climbs into bed with Seungmin and guides him to rest his head on his chest, securing an arm around him. His hair tickles on Changbin’s chin. As Seungmin grabs hold of his free hand and brings it near his face, Changbin glances at the ceiling.
“I love you, you know.”
Seungmin is already asleep.
“I was going to say you were lucky Changbin-hyung had a mostly free day to take care of you,” a voice breaks through the haze, “but I think he would’ve dropped everything no matter how busy he was.”
“Oh, shut up.”
When Changbin wakes up, he’s alone in his bed, his bedroom door is ajar and voices stream in from the kitchen.
“No, really! You should’ve seen the way he went out running the moment you texted him,” Jisung says in his annoying teasing voice. “Did he take good care of you, at least?”
Changbin sits up and rubs the sleep off his eyes with the back of his hand. It takes him a great amount of willpower to get up instead of going back to sleep. He doesn’t like where the conversation outside is going, anyway.
“At first he refused to, actually. He was so mean to me for no reason, you know?” Seungmin muses. He has his back turned to Changbin’s door, so he doesn’t see him coming. “But he treated me right eventually. And he did a great job, see, I’m all better now.”
“Why wouldn’t he-”
“He doesn’t mean what you think,” Changbin cuts in before Jisung can finish the question.
Seungmin doesn’t have the decency to even look surprised when he turns around. He makes grabby hands for him and curls against his side when Changbin reaches him.
“Hey, hyung,” he says. “What are you getting me for dinner?”
Changbin is, with no shame over it, the weakest man in the world.
“Anything you want.”