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“Yeahhhh, let it fucking RIP,” Felix rumbles, whips his elbow back and launches his beyblade into the arena with a force that Seungmin can barely compete with. Predictably, his top hits the stadium at a perfect angle, and starts swirling around Seungmin’s which has found a home smack-dab in the centre of the big plastic arena. A sliding launch. Fuck.
Seungmin’s top doesn’t stand a chance. It takes only 3 collisions with Felix's for it to fly apart.
Felix hollers, victorious, and throws his launcher in celebration. It lands half under the sofa, and he has to crawl over to get it back.
Seungmin groans, flops back against the carpet with a thud.
Felix is still cackling when his face pops into Seungmin’s field of vision, eyes scrunched up, his freckles pretty and distinct on his freshly washed face.
“You knew I was using my attack blade! You should’ve done a weak launch, those …”
“… those are most effective against attack blades, I know, I know,” Seungmin deadpans, forcing his eyes away from Felix’s sparkling ones.
“Then why didn’t you? Hm?” Felix needles with another giggle, poking Seungmin’s waist with his finger where his hoodie has ridden up. The tips of his fingers are soft and warm.
Seungmin mumbles something unintelligible. He doesn’t know why he didn’t.
“What was that?” Felix chirps.
Okay, maybe he does know. Maybe he was a little distracted. By Felix. Cursing. In English. With his stupid, sexy accent and his deep voice and his fratboy charm and his pretty face. Sue Seungmin for getting distracted by his boyfriend.
Seungmin sits up, fast enough to nearly knock his head into Felix’s.
“I want a rematch.”
Felix raises an eyebrow.
“A rematch? Seungminnie, we’re playing for points, and I’m in the lead by like 30.”
“I want,” Seungmin repeats, obstinately, fixing Felix with one of his looks, “a rematch.”
Felix stares back, narrows his eyes.
Seungmin ignores him like they’ve both been ignoring the takeout containers on the kitchen counter that Felix has convinced Seungmin not to put away, dragging him, instead, to the living room floor to play beyblades. Now, the mess has been joined by the empty beer bottles on the side table, whose contents have made their way into Seungmin’s bloodstream and are making his cheeks burn hot, and his eyes get stuck on his boyfriend even more than usual.
It’s just another evening at their dorm. Another evening of takeout and a beer or two—and an overly competitive round (or ten) of battle tops. Normal.
Seungmin reaches over, drags his box of beyblades closer, and starts rummaging around in them until he finds the parts he’s looking for and starts assembling his next blade. A little bit of stamina, a lot of defense. That’ll show him.
He gets into position, so does Felix. Seungmin is still not looking at him. He needs to stay focused.
But then Felix decides to kneel on the carpet as he gets ready to launch, making his stupid, ugly, loose, checkered blue boxers ride up, exposing the soft inside of his thighs, all milky skin, downy hair and the faded purple of a hickey Seungmin remembers sucking into his skin last week, his mind replaying the weak, breathy moan Felix had gasped into the silence of his room when Seungmin’s teeth scraped hot skin—
Seungmin’s launch sucks. There’s no other way to say it. It’s too flat. His top hits the arena and starts spinning around the outside of it, once, twice, three times, all while Felix’s sits pretty, defensively, on the inside. Seungmin doesn’t have to look to know what happens next. His top will lose momentum until it finally reaches the middle, where Felix’s will still be spinning perfectly and with enough force to make Seungmin’s stop dead in its tracks and fall over.
He doesn’t have to look to see it play out, so he takes the opportunity to stare at Felix some more, whose big, expressive eyes are glued to the arena.
Seungmin hates those boxers. They look like the ones your Mom would dig out of a bargain bin, not like something someone as hot, as ethereal as Felix would or should wear. But Felix is part deity, part gremlin, and ‘he likes the airflow’. And right now, Seungmin can’t for the life of him find fault with them.
Plastic collides with plastic, and then there’s the sad sound—or absence of a sound—of only one top still spinning, and Felix’s cheers.
Seungmin flops right back against the carpet. The world spins a little, and he can feel the warmth that has pooled in his abdomen slowly make its way into his cock. He throws his arm over his eyes dramatically.
“What was that???!” Felix screeches, kicking his feet against the carpet way too loudly for 10pm. Seungmin can practically feel the wrath of their downstairs neighbours seep through the floor.
He doesn’t dignify Felix with a response. He doesn’t have one anyway. It’s not like he sucks at playing battle tops in general, he really doesn’t. Usually, he can keep up with Felix just fine, sometimes he even wins. But tonight … yeah, he sucks.
Felix’s laughter peters out into a soft giggle, and Seungmin can hear him crawl across the carpet before he feels him climb into his lap. Soft, lithe limbs collide with his own.
“Aw, Seungminnie… It’s okay!”
Felix’s skin is warm, always is, but especially now, when his legs tangle with Seungmin’s. It makes a soft shudder of contentment run through him. He collapses on top of him with a happy little sigh, slotting himself between Seungmin’s legs and letting his head rest on his chest.
“It’s okay that you suck,” Felix repeats with faux sympathy. Seungmin grumbles, deep in his chest, right against Felix’s cheeks, and the latter barely suppresses a giggle.
With his favourite boy this close to him, it doesn’t take long for the slight chub between Seungmin’s legs to turn into something a lot more solid; and a lot more noticeable. And if there’s one thing about Felix, it’s that he doesn’t need much more than that to get him going. He has the libido of a kitten in heat. Seungmin can barely keep up on a normal day.
As if he can read his mind, something in Felix’s demeanour changes. He shifts against him and his breathing goes a little quieter, his body still—until he presses closer to Seungmin, arches his back and presses their groins together with a soft hum. And that’s all the words he needs. When Seungmin lifts his arm from his face and looks down, Felix is already staring up at him. Stars in his eyes, and something else. Something darker.
He leans up just as Seungmin leans down, and their lips meet in the middle. Practised, familiar, a soft press of lips, then, immediately, something more. His hot tongue, prodding at the seam of Seungmin’s until he, predictably, gives in.
Felix kisses like he lives. Without thinking and without holding back any of the boundless enthusiasm contained in his skinny little body. He’s all heat like this, messy and eager, wearing his heart and his desire on his sleeve.
When they first got together, Seungmin hadn’t known what to do with all of that. It was overwhelming. But now, letting his guards down and kissing Felix back the same way comes like second nature. Like a breath of relief. He’s safe here, with him.
Felix is eager tonight. Pulling himself away from Seungmin’s lips, his own wet and pink, his palm finds Seungmin’s chest as he plants his knees into the carpet and grinds down. He was soft mere minutes ago, but now he’s hard. Seungmin can feel the outline of him, small and stiff, through the materials of his own, thin sweatshorts. The familiar shape of him makes Seungmin’s mouth water.
His hands find Felix’s waist and when Felix rolls his hips properly for the first time, Seungmin can feel the pleasure shiver all the way into his toes. Then Felix does it again and moans, deep and guttural, throwing his head back in pleasure.
They could get off like this, Seungmin knows. Have done, before. Right here, on this very rug. There’s probably still a stain somewhere. But Felix sits up. When he does, the length of his hard cock tents the front of his boxers obscenely, makes Seungmin stare. Felix reaches down, circles his hand around the base of himself and gives himself a hard little tug over the fabric. Yeah, no, Seungmin fucking loves those boxers.
When Seungmin’s gaze meets Felix, he knows he’s been caught. He’s wearing a shit-eating grin, the kind that Seungmin knows means he’s up to no good, but there’s also a sense of pride gleaming in them, and his body straightens out like it sometimes does when he’s just about to go on stage. He scoots back until he’s straddling Seungmin’s legs at the knee, settling down with his back arching prettily—then he places his warm palms on Seungmin’s thighs and slowly slides them up. His eyes never leave Seungmin’s. They’re dark, and they sparkle in the low light. He’s beautiful, as always.
“Seungminnie …” Felix breathes. His fingers dig into the muscles in Seungmin’s legs, lithe as they are. But it doesn’t seem to bother Felix. He kneads Seungmin’s body with the same delight he does his other hyungs. Seungmin is glad for it—otherwise he may have to start hitting the gym with Changbin, and he really doesn’t want to do that.
Thank God, Felix seems to think he’s hot. If the fire burning in his eyes as his fingers slip underneath the hem of his shorts is anything to go by. No, Seungmin’s doing Felix a disservice. He never skirts around his feelings and never hesitates to tell Seungmin about them. Anything from “you look so cool with your new haircut” to “I can’t believe the stylists would put you into an outfit this slutty for the world to see”. Or, that one time, in the dressing room at Mucore: “this jacket is making your shoulders look so wide. I need to suck your dick right now” (which he did. In one of the changing cubbies, with the noise of the other members right outside. Seungmin had never come so fast and so hard in his life. He’d discovered that maybe he was into exhibitionism that day—or maybe it was only because it was Felix.)
But no one can blame him, he thinks. Not really. This is Lee Felix. Ethereal, beautiful, talented Lee Felix. Coveted all over Korea for his visuals. Incredible dancer, singer, rapper, nothing he can’t do. On the cover of countless magazines, stacked on a shelf in his room.
And this Lee Felix, the same one that smoulders back at him from the covers of Elle and Harper’s Bazaar on the shelves of the convenience store, has decided he likes Kim Seungmin enough to sit on the floor of their shared apartment, play beyblades and stick his hands down (up?) his shorts to palm over his cock.
Seungmin gasps when small fingers wrap around him. Two hands. Seungmin’s cock isn’t small, sure, but it definitely doesn’t warrant two hands. But Felix doesn’t seem to think so. He wraps both of his hands around Seungmin’s cock and starts jerking him off.
He’s too good at it. His small hands feel divine, even if it’s dry. They wrap around him with just enough pressure, enveloping most of his shaft in their warmth. And he knows exactly what Seungmin likes. He’s embarrassingly close already, but then he opens his eyes; Felix kneeling between his legs, his own cock bobbing between his legs, working him over with two hands, tiny fingers wrapping tight around him, watching him intently, blushing cheeks and pupils blown wide—
Seungmin nearly comes on the spot. He doesn’t know how he deserves this debauched angel’s hands on his cock, but he’s not about to complain.
But his angel is decidedly too far away right now.
Seungmin sits up quickly, nearly knocking into Felix again, but this time it’s Seungmin’s palm that finds the delicate slope of the back of Felix’s head and pulls him into a kiss.
Felix’s hands stutter on his cock when Seungmin wraps his lips around his bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth, almost lose their grip entirely when Seungmin licks into his mouth, demanding and filthily. Felix loves it filthy. Seungmin learned that early on. Felix had been so nervous, when he’d told him that he liked it a little rough, giving or receiving. Like he hadn’t expected Seungmin to be on the same page. Seungmin was almost offended. What did Felix think, that it was all missionary in Seungmin’s head? They’d fucked like rabbits that night; and the other members had been horrified when Felix showed up to dance practice the next day with bruises in the shape of Seungmin’s fingers on the sides of his neck. It was just a coincidence that the matching ones on Seungmin’s hips were covered up by his sweats.
Felix slides one hand into Seungmin’s hair and pulls and Seungmin groans into his mouth before winding his arm around Felix’s waist and wrestling him onto the floor.
“Hm— ah!”
Felix yelps. He nearly jumps off the floor, only stopped by Seungmin’s body blanketing his. With a disgruntled look on his face he reaches behind him—and pulls out a bright orange beyblade.
Seungmin sputters out a laugh first, but Felix soon follows, throwing the top to the side and burying his face in Seungmin’s neck as he giggles. Then he pulls back and stares up at Seungmin, even bites his lip for good measure (as if Seungmin needed convincing).
“Bed?”
Seungmin smiles at him, and with one last, lingering kiss to his lips, gets off him and helps him to his feet.
Seungmin automatically steers towards his own bedroom, and before they even cross the threshold, Felix’s eager little hands have rid him off his sweatshirt and the shirt underneath it. Seungmin leaves Felix in his t-shirt and boxers, only drags him onto the bed with him and right on top of him. Felix goes willingly, sinking into his arms with a happy hum, pulling Seungmin straight into another kiss.
They make out like that for a while, sinking into the comfort of the sheets, the comfort of each other. No rush, only tongues tangling, the slick slide of them filthily loud in the quiet room. Felix’s hands are slowly wandering over Seungmin’s chest, down the side of his waist, up his arms, prodding and kneading whatever part of Seungmin he can reach. His cock is pressed against Seungmin’s thigh and the longer they kiss, the more insistently it presses against him, until Felix starts rutting against him in small, aborted movements.
Seungmin’s hands are all over Felix. It’s like he can’t keep them still, can’t get enough of feeling him. Slipping under Felix’s loose shirt, chasing goosebumps over his skin wherever he touches, letting his nails scratch through the smattering of hair on Felix’s chest—hair that has finally grown back again, after he had it shaved for a couple concerts they had back to back—letting the tips of his fingers linger on his nipples until Felix shivers and twitches in his arms.
Slowly, torturously so, he follows the dip of Felix’s spine until he reaches the waistband of his boxers. Felix’s hand curls around his jaw and he kisses him hard when Seungmin’s hand finally slips beneath it and gets a mean handful of his ass.
Seungmin moans into Felix’s mouth. His ass is perfect. Small and round, a truly perfect handful. He takes his time kneading it, swallowing down every whimper Felix breathes into his lips as he grinds and shakes until he becomes so fidgety he nearly squirms out of Seungmin’s grasp.
Felix detaches his lips from Seungmin’s with a lewd pop, panting hot and heavy against his cheek before rasping out a wrecked “you’re the one who got hard from beyblades, why are you teasing me?”
Seungmin grins.
“Because you’re so fun to tease. Not my fault I have a thing called stamina.”
He lets his fingers brush lower, temptingly close to Felix’s rim, and the boy in his arms keens in frustration. Then, like he usually does when he wants something from Seungmin, he decides to try flattery.
“I’m just so horny for my boooyfriend,” he hums, licks a sloppy kiss into Seungmin’s parted lips and bats his lashes. Seungmin’s cock twitches in his shorts. “My boyfriend with his long, pretty fingers and his big, fat co—“
Seungmin shuts him up with his lips just as he brushes his pointer finger over Felix’s hole—but he’s surprised when, instead of being dry and tight, he finds it wet and slightly loose.
“Felix,” he growls, like a warning or a prayer. He dips the tip of his finger inside and his walls give immediately.
Felix moans wantonly, happily, pleased as punch when Seungmin’s hips stutter up, rubbing his erection against Felix’s hip. Seungmin sinks the rest of his finger into him, and he melts into Seungmin’s arms with a satisfied, punched out moan. Blindly, barely conscious, Seungmin reaches out for the bedside table, knocking his glasses, then his lip balm down before his fingers close around the little bottle of lube.
“I got horny in the shower, so I fingered myself. Was gonna ride you, in case you were too tired,” Felix mumbles out, before fucking himself back against Seungmin’s fingers greedily. Seungmin’s belly does a heavy swoop, endearment at Felix being so considerate mixing with a kind of mind-melting arousal at the thought of being half asleep and having Felix ride him at will.
Like in a trance, Seungmin shakily pops the lid of the lube bottle, slicks up his finger with way too much lube and gives in to Felix’s wordless begging, adding a second digit. Felix fucks himself back on the intrusion like it’s all he’s been waiting for.
Felix shouldn’t have worried. Seungmin’s not tired. Not tonight.
He crooks his fingers right into Felix’s prostate and nearly gasps when Felix’s fingernails dig into his chest and scrape down. That’s going to leave a mark.
“Oh, fuck, right there, baby,” Felix moans out in English and Seungmin’s cock weeps into his shorts.
He scissors his fingers, rubs into Felix’s prostate harder. “There?” he asks, the English feeling a little awkward on his tongue. But it’s worth it when Felix nods and slurs out a slew of yeses, his voice breaking on every one of them. Seungmin lets his own hips grind up, chase an ounce of relief against Felix’s soft skin.
Seungmin works him open like that; touching Felix’s prostate just enough to keep him boneless and pliant, until he’s three fingers deep and there’s a trickle of Felix’s saliva slipping down his collarbone. Until his boyfriend sobs and slurs out an almost drunken “‘m ready, ‘m ready, I promise, I need it” that makes Seungmin’s teeth ache with desire.
He’s a patient man; but even the most patient man can only master his urges for so long when faced with the most beautiful boy in the world begging for his cock.
“You wanted to ride me, didn’t you?” Seungmin rasps out, his own voice betraying just how affected he is. His dick hurts, he’s so hard. “Then why don’t you?”
He thinks he hears Felix whimper, sniffle. He knows he doesn’t want to do any work when he’s like this. Wants Seungmin to manhandle him into whatever position he wants and pound into him until he’s crying. But, really, it’s his own fault because Seungmin can’t stop thinking about Felix riding him, now that he put that thought into his head. He also can’t resist when he knows how prettily Felix will thank him when he finally does get what he wants.
So Seungmin tugs at Felix, until he reluctantly kicks his boxers off his feet and towards the end of the bed and throws his leg over Seungmin’s waist to straddle him. His movements are slow, his body seemingly heavy, and yet oversensitive, twitching when Seungmin’s cock brushes against his taint. It’s already so wet there, but Seungmin still uses his still-wet hand to slick up his cock, his eyes threatening to flutter shut when he finally gets a hand around himself.
Felix sniffles again, a deep pout on his pretty lips, but there’s also determination in his flushed face when he looks Seungmin in the eye, takes his cock into his palm and sinks down on it in one, smooth movement.
Seungmin forgets for a second why he did this, his thoughts stuttering to a halt, brain empty except for the feeling of Felix’s tight, wet hole fluttering around him, the boy whimpering brokenly above him. He clenches around him, and Seungmin’s eyes roll into the back of his head. Blindly, hastily he wipes his hand on the sheets next to him before he reaches for Felix’s thighs, lets his palms drag up and down the soft skin, a wordless ‘take your time’ that Felix seems to understand. His own hands find Seungmin’s, lace their fingers together as he rolls his hips, grinds against Seungmin, adjusting to his girth inside of him.
After a moment, their fingers still interlaced, Felix lifts up and lets himself fall back down. It punches a soft moan from his lips. Then he does it again, and this time he rolls his hips a little. His moan is longer. When Seungmin flutters his eyes open he finds Felix’s closed, a little furrow between his brows as he starts setting a slow rhythm, his cock bobbing against the hem of his shirt with every soft bounce, leaving a little wet spot against the thin fabric. Seungmin unclasps one of his hands from Felix’s only tug up his shirt, waiting until Felix takes the material from him, clasping it against his chest.
There are freckles on Felix’s stomach, dusted like stars all over his pale skin, and a coarse trail of hair leading from the little dip of his belly button down to the little bush above his cock that Seungmin is fucking obsessed with. There’s a hint of abs, hidden underneath the tiniest bit of pudge that has taken hold on his body after weeks of ramyun in venue waiting rooms. It suits him so well, it makes Seungmin a little dizzy. He brings a hand to his hips, feels the softness underneath his skin, digs his thumbs in just enough to make Felix’s back arch on his next bounce, making Seungmin’s cock slip just a little deeper, making them moan out in unison.
It doesn’t take long for Felix’s legs to start shaking. He was too high-strung to begin with, Seungmin knows. Not expecting to be made to pleasure himself on Seungmin’s cock, too sensitive even for his dancer’s body to make up for it. So when his bounces have turned into a slow grind and his thighs are shaking against Seungmin’s sides; when his head falls forward, and he gives Seungmin a desperate, pleading look through the halo of his messy blonde hair—Seungmin takes mercy on him.
He tugs Felix forwards until he falls over him, hands digging into the pillows on either side of Seungmin’s head. Then he finds a fistful of Felix’s hair and drags him into a kiss.
Felix squeals at the sudden change of pace, but the way he instantly melts into it, meets Seungmin’s tongue with his own, the way he clenches around Seungmin’s cock still inside him, betrays him. Seungmin kisses him like that for a moment, hard and deep and all-consuming, until he can tell Felix has all but forgotten about their position, too eager to give Seungmin everything his demanding mouth is coaxing from him—and then, without breaking the kiss, he flips them over, Felix’s head hitting the pillows with another pretty squeal. When Seungmin pulls back his eyes are dazed and sparkling. Seungmin grins at him, and Felix smiles back. Seungmin has to rein in his galloping heartbeat.
He sits up, gently pulls out of Felix—not without soothing his whine of complaint with a solid thumb against his hip—before giving him a firm slap on the plush of his ass.
“Up,” he orders, and Felix’s eyes widen, glimmering with excitement. “Face the wall.”
Felix obeys, scrambles to sit up, pull his shirt over his head and turn around. Though before he can scoot back and plant his hands, Seungmin shuffles forward and crowds him against the wall, crushing their pillows somewhere half underneath Felix’s bony knees, half between his thighs and the wall.
Felix gasps when he feels Seungmin’s hips hit his, his cock slide wetly between his ass cheeks. Seungmin’s eyes are transfixed by the view of it, the excess of lube glistens on Felix’s skin, the way his ass is slightly red from where he was bouncing on Seungmin’s lap just a moment ago. The freckles that dust his body everywhere also dust over his lower back, his body hair softer there, a blonde-ish down that sticks to his skin when Seungmin fucks his cock between his ass cheeks and leaves a trail of pre-cum smeared against it.
Felix squirms, makes a desperate little noise in the back of his throat, wiggles his ass. Seungmin watches as Felix rubs himself against his cock, jiggles it around. He feels fucking insane.
In one swift movement, he finds Felix’s wrists where he’s supporting himself against the wall and pulls them back. Felix slumps forward, his chest and head thumping against the wall loudly. He moans, his back arching, ass pushing harder against Seungmin while Seungmin manhandles his arms to cross behind his back. It’s one thing his big hands are good for. They fit around Felix’s bony little wrists perfectly.
With Felix pinned underneath him, he pulls back, lets his cock drag against Felix’s ass, first above, then, when he pulls back further, downwards, over his wet hole, his sensitive taint and balls. Felix gasps, then whimpers eagerly. He squirms in Seungmin’s grasp, but he can’t contend with Seungmin’s iron grip. Seungmin repeats the motion, letting his cock drag against Felix’s fluttering, desperate hole in a steady rhythm, until it starts to catch on it with every thrust, making Felix mewl wantonly where his cheek is squished into the wall. He whines like a slut. “I-Inside, Seung- ah Seungminnie, pleeeaseee”
When Seungmin’s cock finally catches and slides inside, it takes both of them by surprise. Seungmin sees stars. Felix nearly arches out of his grip, but Seungmin’s body, slumped against his, keeps him in place.
He briefly considers stilling there, sheathed to the hilt inside his boyfriend, let him get used to it or something—but decides, in a mad, split-second, that he won’t.
So with the same rhythm he had set with his cock against Felix, Seungmin pulls out and fucks into him.
And fuck … Felix nearly screams, his moan tipping into something wanton, deranged. Seungmin gasps for air, his lungs forgetting how to breathe on their own with the pleasure thundering through his body, the blinding desire radiating from his groin. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Every thrust is better than the last, Felix so wet, so hot, squeezing him like a vise, fluttering like his body still can’t get enough.
Seungmin’s mouth finds the slope of Felix’s shoulders as his hips keep fucking into him, steady and deep, so fucking deep. He moans into Felix’s skin like a man possessed.
“I- I won’t last,” he gasps out, grits his teeth when Felix meets his next thrust, fucking himself back against him.
“Ah! Me neither, me neither oh fuck, Seungminnie,” Felix gasps out.
Seungmin’s hips pick up the pace as if on their own.
“Didn’t you- fuck … come, earlier in the shower?”
Felix shakes his head, as well as he can with his face pressed against the wall.
“D-didn’t,” he breathes out, cuts himself off with a high-pitched moan when Seungmin slams his hips into him even harder, chopping up his sentence with every pointed thrust of his cock, “wanted— to— wait— save— my— self— for— ah, fuck, yes”
It’s like Seungmin sees red.
He lets go of Felix’s wrists, shuffles forwards, forces Felix closer to the wall, wraps his hands around his hips on either side and starts pounding into him.
Felix nearly screams, his palms scrambling against the wall for purchase as the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the quiet room. His knees slip just a little further apart, inch by inch, until he shivers, jerks in Seungmin’s grip, his moans taking on a crazed note. At this new angle, Seungmin’s cock is dragging over his prostate every time he fucks into him.
Seungmin can already feel it, the orgasm tugging hotly against his insides, but he holds on. With a patient precision that he has no idea where he takes it, blind with need as he is, he jackhammers into Felix, his hips slapping against Felix’s ass until his skin is red and a similar red blooms under his fingers where he’s holding onto him by his hips.
But Felix is close. Seungmin can tell by the way every single thrust punches a wild, loud ‘ah’ out of his chest, high-pitched, despite his usually deep voice, and almost disbelieving.
And by the way his body is pliant and limp, but twitches helplessly with every thrust, until one of his hands blindly scrambles higher on the wall, and he sobs out a wild “Minnie- Minnie- ah, ‘m coming, ‘m coming oh my GOD …”
And he comes, squeezing around Seungmin so hard he thinks his dick might fall off. His cock, untouched except for the constant drag against the pillows bunched between his legs, twitches, his cum hitting the wall in erratic spurts, dripping down into the pillows. Seungmin can’t find it in himself to care.
Felix sobs, nails dragging down the wall as Seungmin fucks him through it madly, desperately, chasing his own high that’s so close he can taste it with Felix’s orgasm making him pulse around him, making his body shake and arch into him.
“C-can I … inside?” Seungmin rasps out, sounding more desperate than he thought possible.
Felix nods vigorously, reaches behind himself, finger scrambling for purchase on Seungmin’s ass, trying to pull him closer, deeper.
Seungmin comes with a shout, shoves himself as deep as he can inside Felix’s hot body, pressing him against the wall with his entire body, and unloads.
Felix whimpers quietly, twitches as Seungmin fills him up. His hand is still on Seungmin’s ass, he fucks himself back weakly, milking Seungmin for all he’s worth. Seungmin’s pretty sure he’s gone to heaven.
It takes him several seconds to catch his breath, and another few before he can peel his eyes open.
It’s then that he feels Felix’s hand in his hair, carding through the strands tenderly.
“Fuck,’ Seungmin breathes out, and Felix giggles quietly. He nods. “Yeah. Fuck.”
All at once, Seungmin notices that he still has Felix pressed against the wall. He presses a lingering kiss to Felix’s shoulder before he peels himself off his back. Felix swears under his breath when Seungmin’s cock slips from his hole. Seungmin watches, in awe, as his hole clenches and then, slowly, it starts leaking. His cum. His boyfriend. His Felix.
His cum drips onto the sheets and Seungmin watches. The members always make fun of how much of a stickler for tidiness he is. Keeping everything in order, from his suitcase when they’re on tour to the collection of cables and chargers he carries with him everywhere.
If only they could see him now. Takeaway boxes left on the kitchen counter, beer bottles on the living room floor; Felix’s cum all over the wall and his pillow, his own dripping onto the sheets for good measure. And Seungmin doesn’t give a fuck.
Felix stirs, tries to unfold himself from his position but suddenly hisses, and it goes through Seungmin like a bolt of lightning.
He wraps himself around Felix again, but this time to support him as he slowly slides down his cramping arms, helps him un-arch his poor back, fragile as it is. As softly as he can, and whispering praises all the while, he unfurls him until he can guide him towards the foot end of the bed, the only place on the bed that isn’t covered in lube or some bodily fluid. Seungmin lays him down, unfolds the duvet from where it had gotten shoved to the side, and places it over him. Felix is still hissing when he moves, but when Seungmin kisses his forehead, he smiles. Seungmin smiles back at him. He runs a hand through Felix’s sweaty hair. He looks so content like this. Angelic.
“Let me get my bed ready and warm up the shower, okay?” he hums, and starts to get off the bed, but Felix stops him with a hand wrapping around his arm. Seungmin turns and finds him cuddled up under the duvet, only his blonde head poking out, a sleepy, content smile on his face. Seungmin blinks.
“Cuddle first,” Felix mumbles. His voice is deeper again, raspy from the exertion, rumbly with sleepiness.
“But …”
Felix shakes his head, tugs at Seungmin until he has no choice but to go and let Felix scoot over and drag him under the sheet. It’s so warm under there, heated up by Felix’s little body. It makes Seungmin yawn.
“We’ll fall asleep,” he notes.
Felix shrugs, lifts Seungmin’s arm and slips underneath it, not caring at all if Seungmin is sticky and sweaty. He tucks his face into the crook of Seungmin’s neck and presses a soft kiss to his collarbone.
“Don’t care. We’re cuddling,” he states, “I won at battle tops today. I make the rules.”
Seungmin tries to sigh, but the only thing that comes out is another yawn.
He’ll have to figure out how on earth he’s going to get the cum off the walls tomorrow. They’ll have to wash the pillows as well as the sheets. The leftover pad thai is going to stink up the kitchen.
Seungmin will curse himself tomorrow.
With one last effort, he frees one of his legs from the duvet and stretches, stretches until he can hit the light switch with his foot. The room plunges into a pleasant half darkness, only the light of his bedside table lamp illuminating the messy bed and the blonde crown of Felix’s head.
As he drifts off, he thinks it’s worth it.