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The dorm lights were off except for the faint blue glow from the practice room monitors someone forgot to shut down. It was past 3 a.m.—everyone else dead asleep after another brutal all-nighter refining the new title track choreo. Seonghyeon had slipped out to the living room couch to scroll through melody ideas on his phone, legs tucked under him, oversized hoodie swallowing his frame. He looked soft like that: sharp jaw relaxed, dimples peeking when he smirked at a dumb meme.
Keonho padded in barefoot, hair still damp from a quick shower, wearing only loose gray sweats that hung low on his hips. He didn't say anything at first—just watched Seonghyeon from the doorway, eyes dark, predatory. The maknae energy was gone; this was the side only Seonghyeon ever saw.
"Hyung," Keonho finally murmured, voice low enough not to wake the others. He crossed the room in three steps, dropping to straddle Seonghyeon's lap without warning. Seonghyeon's phone clattered to the floor.
"Keonho—what the—"
Keonho silenced him with a hand over his mouth, thumb pressing gently against soft lips. "Quiet. You don't want the hyungs hearing how pretty you sound when I wreck you, do you?"
Seonghyeon's eyes widened, breath catching. He could feel Keonho already hard against his thigh through the thin fabric. Heat flooded his face—he hated how fast his body betrayed him around the younger one.
Keonho leaned in, nose brushing Seonghyeon's ear. "You've been teasing me all day. Bending over in the mirror during practice, letting your shirt ride up. You think I didn't notice?"
Seonghyeon mumbled against the palm. "I wasn't—"
"Liar." Keonho pulled back just enough to slip a black leather collar from his pocket—one they'd bought together online, discreet packaging, puppy charm dangling from the O-ring. He fastened it around Seonghyeon's throat with practiced ease, not too tight, just enough to remind. "There. My good pup. Now stay still."
Seonghyeon's pulse jumped under the leather. He whined softly—embarrassed, turned on, already half-hard in his shorts.
Keonho reached into the side table drawer (they kept "supplies" stashed there for nights like this) and pulled out a silk blindfold. He tied it over Seonghyeon's eyes, plunging him into darkness. "No peeking. Just feel me."
Seonghyeon's world narrowed to touch: Keonho's fingers trailing down his chest, pushing the hoodie up to expose skin, pinching nipples until he arched with a muffled gasp. Then lower—palming him through fabric, slow circles that made his hips twitch.
"So needy already," Keonho teased, voice dripping mock disappointment. "Pathetic, hyung. Bet you'd let me fuck you right here on the couch where anyone could walk in."
The free-use fantasy hit hard. Seonghyeon shuddered, leaking into his underwear. "Keonho—please—"
"Not yet." Keonho yanked the shorts down, freeing him. Seonghyeon was flushed dark, throbbing, tip slick. Keonho wrapped a hand around him—loose at first, then tighter, stroking agonizingly slow. He edged him ruthlessly: building, stopping, building again. Three times. Four. Seonghyeon's thighs trembled, quiet sobs escaping.
"You're doing so well," Keonho praised, kissing away tears soaking the blindfold. "My perfect hyung, holding it for me. But you're also such a desperate little slut, aren't you? Dripping just from my hand."
The mix of praise and degradation made Seonghyeon's head spin. He nodded frantically.
Keonho finally let go, flipping Seonghyeon onto his stomach across the couch arm. He bound Seonghyeon's wrists behind his back with soft cuffs from the same drawer—click, secure. Then he spread him open, thumbs pressing into the crease.
"Look at this pretty hole," Keonho growled. "Gonna mark it up first."
He leaned down, biting the soft skin of Seonghyeon's inner thigh—hard enough to bruise, then soothing with tongue. Hickeys bloomed across hips, lower back, ass cheeks. Seonghyeon keened, pushing back for more.
Keonho slicked fingers with lube (always prepared), sliding one in slow, then two, scissoring. Seonghyeon moaned into the cushion, rocking desperately.
"Shh, pup. Take it quiet." Keonho added a third, curling to hit that spot. Seonghyeon jolted, a choked whine slipping out.
When he was loose and trembling, Keonho pulled out, lined himself up—thick, hot—and pushed in one long, deep thrust. Seonghyeon arched, mouth open in a silent scream.
Keonho set a punishing rhythm: hard snaps, hips slapping skin. One hand fisted the collar, tugging lightly—breath play tease. "Breathe for me, hyung. In… out… good boy."
Seonghyeon's vision whited behind the blindfold with every tug. Pleasure-pain sparked down his spine.
Keonho's other hand wrapped around Seonghyeon's throat—not squeezing, just holding, possessive. "Gonna fill you so full. Breed this tight hole until you're leaking me for days. Everyone will smell it on you during stage—no one will know it's your maknae's cum dripping down your thighs."
The filthy words pushed Seonghyeon closer. "Keonho—close—please—"
"No." Keonho pulled out suddenly, leaving him empty and clenching. Seonghyeon sobbed in frustration.
Keonho flipped him onto his back again, re-entering in one brutal slide. This time he went slow, grinding deep, hitting prostate on every pass. Over and over. Seonghyeon's cock leaked steadily, untouched, twitching.
"Come untouched for me," Keonho commanded. "Show me how much you love being used."
Seonghyeon shattered—back bowing, crying out as he spilled across his stomach, untouched, clenching around Keonho. The sight pushed Keonho over: he buried deep, pulsing hot inside, groaning low against Seonghyeon's neck.
They stayed locked together for long minutes, panting. Keonho gently removed the blindfold, cuffs, collar—kissing every mark he left. "You okay, hyung? Color?"
Seonghyeon blinked up at him, dazed, soft. "Green… really green." His voice was wrecked.
Keonho smiled—genuine now, the soft maknae peeking through. He scooped Seonghyeon up bridal-style (easy, despite the height difference fans loved teasing about), carried him to their shared room. Cleaned him with warm cloth, applied soothing cream to bruises, dressed him in fresh hoodie and boxers.
They curled under blankets, Keonho spooning from behind, lips brushing Seonghyeon's nape. "You were amazing. My best boy."
Seonghyeon hummed, already drifting. "Love you, brat."
Keonho squeezed him tighter. "Love you more, pup."