Archive of Our Own

Sundays had always been vastly appreciated amongst the members of Monsta X, ringing to their ears like a promise to sleep in, eat meat and enjoy time for themselves. And when the weather would start becoming warmer, with a light blue sky devoid of any clouds and sunlight flooding in their apartments, they felt grateful to be alive.
 
And on this Sunday, things seemed to take a pleasant turn, sunlight pouring in the spacious flat shared by half of the members, Kihyun, Minhyuk and Changkyun. The living room was a vast place, garnished with taste in light tones and modern furniture. Minhyuk was sitting on the couch, legs tucked under his body, like a cat basking in the warming light.

The large television displayed an action movie Minhyuk had mentioned he'd wanted to watch for a while, long-abandoned as the man's eyes were glued to his smartphone.

Sundays were all about this; poorly done multitasking and doing whatever they wanted without having a care in the world about anything else.

Changkyun entered the living room, waddling his way across the room, craning his neck, looking for something. Minhyuk did not budge or unglue his eyes from the screen, assuming the boy was just blessing the kitchen with an oh-so-rare journey out of his room for a glass of water or any snack he could put his hands on.

Changkyun's eyes swept the place in a glance, apparently not finding what he was looking for and, after a few seconds, his voice rose from the kitchen.

"Where's Kihyun Hyung?" he asked in a curious tone, deep voice carrying over the movie soundtrack.

Minhyuk, unfazed, looked up from his phone, looking vaguely around as well as if expecting to see Kihyun hidden behind a curtain, and getting back to his phone, answered in a disinterested tone, "Don't know, his room probably,".

And with that, Changkyun was gone, waddling out of the room, practically skiing across the floor as he flapped the sleeves of his oversized jumper around.

Changkyun had something he wanted to ask Kihyun because he knew the latter shared many interests with him, more often than not having the answers to his odd questions. Kihyun was smart, hard-working and always keen on broadening his horizons by learning new things every day, so much so that sometimes it was hard for Changkyun to keep up. Still, he did his best, reading the singer's book recommendations, listening to the podcasts he would share on Kakao Talk and discussing the topics with him until the late hours of night.

He liked it, enjoyed those moments spent with Kihyun, sprawled on each other's beds, contemplating the white ceiling or the starry sky through the window.

To tell the truth, Changkyun had been apprehensive of the new dorms arrangement, albeit thankful for the clever separation between light sleepers and snorers. He had never been really good at handling any big change; so when he found out that his two roommates weirdly matched, be it in their interests, conversations or tastes, he had been able to relax and slowly welcome the new environment, adjusting to domestic life with four members less than what he had been used to.

His room wasn't far from Kihyun's, and it would only take a heads-up through Katalk, a few steps and a knock on the door for the youngest to find his way into Kihyun's room and launch an intellectual conversation.

Sometimes it made sense; sometimes, it didn't. But it made his heart beat with contentment, and his brain cells scream in happiness whenever he was able to stimulate his brain with his favourite Hyung. It almost reminded himself whose son he was, speaking passionately about quantum mechanics or flying cars with Kihyun, who always welcomed any topic easily, eager to learn and vivify his intelligence.

Changkyun smiled to himself, reaching the door to Kihyun's room, as he thought about the book he'd just finished. It usually didn't take him a very long time to read through an entire book. Still, as the group had to juggle between schedules, it was two weeks after Kihyun had recommended the book to him that he finally found himself excitedly knocking on the singer's room, knowing that behind the door awaited a thrilling universe of reasoning, debating and frustrated explanations of each other's point of view on the book.

And so he knocked, waiting, bubbling up from the inside, already thinking about exposing to Kihyun how fascinating the dichotomy of good and evil had dominated the book throughout every single of its pages without the reader even realising, making a mental note to lead Kihyun astray from his dumbbells and personal work-out equipment in case the debate came to a heated peak.

What he heard, however, was nowhere near the promise of a long conversation.

"Whoever it is, fuck off," Kihyun groaned, muffled voice barely carrying through the closed door.

Changkyun's stomach plummeted. He was used to Kihyun's uptight personality, but the faint groan of pain following his statement made worry squirm inside his guts.

"Hyung, you okay?" he asked, scrutinizing the door, almost with the intent of drilling a hole into it to see what Kihyun was up to.

Changkyun usually wasn't one to be nosey, nor push his way in the cracks he shouldn't even know existed, but when it came to Kihyun, it felt different.

When it came to Kihyun, Changkyun wanted to push and to feel the other pull.

And, when no answer came to him, he pushed.

Kihyun's room was dark, feeling eerie and forlorn after the blindingly sunlit living room. The blinds had been closed shut, lights put out, and the refreshing scent coming from an essential oil diffuser cast a sweet perfume in the air, Changkyun recognizing peppermint in the fumes as he advanced carefully through the room he knew by heart after many nocturnal getaways.

Amidst the unusually wrinkled bedsheets, Kihyun's dark and shirtless silhouette stirred. A faint beam of light broke its way through the blinds' gap, fine dust twirling idly in the air. Changkyun would have found the serenity of the frame solaceful, had Kihyun not looked like he was on his death bed, as he shut the door behind him, silence overbearing.

"Hyung?" Changkyun repeated, his voice barely higher than a whisper.

The singer slowly turned, eyes screwed shut and face twisted in pain, not easing up Changkyun's worry in the least. His hair appeared damp from a recent shower, a bowl laying at the foot of his bed next to an empty cup and a box of medication.

A headache. Kihyun had to be screwed to his bed on one of those wonderful Sundays because of a headache. It was so unfair, that he had to deal with the pain on his only day off, and he had silently cursed whichever higher power would make a good culprit to blame.

Everyone in the group knew how bad Kihyun's migraines could get, exacerbating his senses and thus making any light, sound or movement unbearable, rendering him sick. And no matter how much Kihyun wanted to blame any deity he could think of, he knew it was mainly his fault today.

Kihyun had woken up feeling his temples under the unpleasant pressure of an upcoming headache. However, he had been stubborn, ignoring the pain, pushing it away to do his morning stretches, cook a decent breakfast for himself and the others, clean up the kitchen and nag around a bit more than necessary for health reasons. He had been forced to sit down, feeling a wave of pain-induced nausea wash over him as the pain had crept its way right behind his eyebrows and circled his skull, like an invisible hand crushing the bones together.

And he knew it then, that it was too late. Had he been more careful, drank more water, had he changed anything, he would have been able to enjoy the peaceful day off, taking care of his bamboo or working out, but the dull throb in his head had made him surrender.

"Changkyun," Kihyun's voice was strained, pleading almost, and the rapper felt his heart tighten, helpless before such a vulnerable looking Kihyun. "I want this headache gone. Please leave."

Sometimes, Kihyun considered having Changkyun and Minhyuk as flatmates a blessing; for they were understanding, rather calm, and they got along well. But more often than not, he would curse himself internally for having been made to live with the embodiment of a headache, also known as Im Changkyun.

So when Kihyun begged Changkyun to leave, he half hoped the boy would take the pain away as he would shut the door behind him. Of course, it didn't happen. Things were always unexpected and sudden when it came to Changkyun, and although Kihyun appreciated the intellectual stimulation or the good laughter he could get out of him, he knew he was screwed. Because it was Im Changkyun.

"Hyung, I think I can help," Changkyun blurted out, eyes lighting up with a glint Kihyun wasn't sure he recognized. Even if he wanted to, he much preferred keeping his eyes closed, letting the darkness engulf his poor optic chiasma and willing the new wave of nausea away with an impressive gulp of air.

"I highly doubt it, Kyun. I've already tried everything," and it was true.

He wished he was lying, wished he had only uttered these words to dismiss the man standing in the room. But the fact was that he had tried everything he knew of to try and get rid of the splitting pain in his head.

The first thing he had turned to was his magical remedy, as Minhyuk liked to call it, having tried it himself. It only took some paracetamol combined with caffeine, and it would make their headaches disappear in a matter of minutes. And, when twenty minutes later, Kihyun was burning his skin under a steamy shower, he definitely knew he was screwed. If the coffee slash medicine was not working, it was over for him. Still, he had desperately tried everything else, from the hot shower to the cold one, massaging his acupuncture points with peppermint essential oil, until finally, he had collapsed in his bed, hair still dripping wet on his bare torso.

It had taken him all the courage of the world to lift himself and close the blinds, feeling the pain lift slightly in the sudden darkness, and turn on the essential oil diffuser in a weak attempt to lure his senses into thinking he was okay. He'd laid back down in a last groan, pressing his palms on his eyes and shivering under the cold droplets of water travelling down his neck.

"Do you trust me?" Changkyun's deep voice broke the silence of the room, sounding much closer to Kihyun than the latter had expected, having kept his eyes closed during the short exchange of words. He could feel his eyelids twitch from the pain, and he just wanted to be left alone.

"No," he snorted in response because no one in their right mind would trust Changkyun in such a situation. But then again, Kihyun thought, Changkyun's moves had always been hard to anticipate, and perhaps he did have a solution to relieve him from the pain. In this instance, Kihyun felt pretty desperate for anything that could work; fighting fire with fire. He suppressed another snort.

"But I guess I don't have much choice," Kihyun added as an afterthought, and Changkyun's smile wouldn't have been brighter had he been told Christmas was advanced to an earlier date.

He stepped closer to Kihyun's bed, carefully pushing the bowl and empty cup away and knelt down, levelling himself with Kihyun's visage. Seeing him up close, he could make out the wrinkles folding his forehead as his eyebrows furrowed, the dimple on his chin that appeared when he was worried or tensed, the shiver running down his bare skin. He looked beautiful, and Changkyun suddenly felt a tug in his chest, overcome by the intense need to help the aching body.

Kihyun felt him scoot closer to the bed, eyes still closed, and he held his breath. A hand, gentle and cold, lowered on his forehead, and he leaned into the touch, welcoming the coldness of the fingers against his burning skin. He felt Changkyun push his wet strands of hair back, distractedly caressing his forehead in a soothing manner. The tip of Changkyun's nose rested against his cheek as he breathed ever slowly, almost afraid of triggering any wave of pain from an exhale only.

When he spoke again, his voice was a mere whisper, resounding like a gust of wind and washing over Kihyun's entire body with something oddly refreshing.

"Hyung," he breathed, "take your hands and bring them up to your neck."

And Kihyun felt weird, having his moves controlled by a murmur, by a voice, yet his hands moved up, reaching the crook of his neck and resting there unsure of what to do.

The rational part of Kihyun's brain was telling him to just kick Changkyun out of his personal space, out of his room and to nap the headache away.

But the rationality seemed toned down, like a badly tuned radio, overtaken by the pain and the curiosity which pushed Kihyun to tolerate the younger man's warmth crowding against his bed. For all he knew, he was maybe about to discover another magical remedy.

Changkyun's mouth opened and closed in hesitation.

"Good. Now, start rubbing your neck," he tried, feeling awkward in his instructions.

Rubbing slow circles on his skin, around his jawline and behind his ears, Kihyun breathed out to try and relax, still wary about how exactly a simple massage would relieve him of his pain. Changkyun didn't sound too keen on explaining what was in his brain either, afraid of upsetting the singer and worsening his pain if Kihyun was to shout his frustration out.

"Alright," he gulped, "lower your hands slowly," he whispered oh-so softly, and Kihyun felt his breath brush against his cheek again, palm still soothingly cold on his forehead. His fingers travelled over his collarbones leisurely, waiting for a stop to be voiced.

It came with a hitch of Kihyun's breath as his hands hovered over his chest, nipples hardened from the constant shivering. Suddenly feeling very exposed, he regretted not taking the time to put on proper clothes after his quick shower, only putting on his favourite pair of grey sweatpants and nothing else.

"Keep on massaging, Hyung," Changkyun's low voice rang in Kihyun's eardrum, slightly deeper as he gulped thickly.

Pushing away the lewd aspect of rubbing his palms over where his nipples were, Kihyun tried his best to follow the instruction, having to mentally remind himself that it was a mere pain-reliever. Surely, there was nothing strange about feeling himself under the orders of his friend and bandmate.

He applied more pressure, feeling his muscles twitch under his own touch as a new wave of goosebumps overtook his skin when Changkyun's hand shifted slightly on his face. It grew almost impossible for Kihyun to ignore the obscene perspective of the instructions as he felt the hard buds roll under the palm of his hands. His breath caught in his throat when Changkyun hummed in appreciation, rubbing his nose against Kihyun's jawline fondly.

And the proximity felt so incredibly intimate, Kihyun's eyes half-covered by the large hand, roaming his own up and down his torso, both breathing in unison in each other's space. He felt his body flush slightly, picturing the scene in his mind. Changkyun's voice sounded so much lower and deeper than usual, and Kihyun ignored whether it came from his tingling senses or if he had just never focused enough on the voice to make out the tone properly.

Kihyun's lungs were hard to fill with air as his breathing almost imperceptibly picked up under the treatment of his hands. He foolishly tried to cling onto the last grams of reason, coming up with the wild theory that he was applying too much pressure and thus compressed his lungs, so he slightly let go of himself. Because there was no way his nipples were sensitive. Absolutely no way.

He felt a pang of guilt somewhere in his sternum for making things weird and probably warping Changkyun's intentions. Even if it wasn't an exact habit of his to surrender the will he had over his body to someone else, surrender control and let someone else take the lead, he was feeling relatively calm and comfortable. He must have looked ridiculous, groping his own chest, but Changkyun didn't laugh. His breath as steady and deep as ever against his cheek, the tip of his nose as fresh as his palm, he wasn't laughing at all.

"Go lower, Hyung," the voice rang again, bringing a shiver down Kihyun's spine and a ticklish sensation in the pit of his stomach. Leaving his chest and ignoring the cold air enveloping his now completely erect nipples, his hands roamed lower, earning twitches from the tensed abdominal muscles, and by the time Kihyun's hands reached the waistband of his pants, he was sure his thighs were the next massaging spot, until Changkyun's voice disturbed his plans.

"Massage here, Kihyun Hyung," and Kihyun had never before considered his name particularly endearing or sounding more special than any other name, but rolling on Changkyun's tongue, his name sounded like it belonged to a God of some sort. It sounded so ethereal and yet familiar, felt forbidden but pulled closer.

And suddenly, his mind screamed at him, for he snapped out of his Changkyun-induced reverie, pulled himself away from the hypnotizing voice with many regrets, and his stomach lurched as his temples throbbed painfully.

As much as he had tried to welcome Changkyun's help, as much as he had pushed himself not to jump to conclusions, he couldn't hold himself back nor the train of thoughts his mind had taken; the remedy was obviously of a depraved nature. But, just like immobilizing a feral animal with obscurity, Kihyun felt trapped under Changkyun's bewitching aura, his calming hand and his voice that stirred something so deep within Kihyun's core.

His hands didn't resume any movement, yet they didn't leave his lower belly either.

"Changkyun, what exactly are we doing?" he whispered, fidgeting with his waistband, twirling the strings around his fingers distractedly.

"Well, helping you out..." the rapper blurted out, voice veiled with secrets.

Kihyun's patience was not to be tested, and Changkyun knew it; he felt the exasperation grow in Kihyun's voice, muscles pulling taut everywhere he had succeeded to make him relax. The rapper mentally slapped himself, feeling weirdly empty as guilt crept up his back.

He never wished to be Kihyun's headache, rather the gentle kiss on his temple. But his intentions, albeit backed up with medical theories and actual researches on the topic, were far from being strictly clinical. And Changkyun didn't want to cross lines, to make it weird between his favourite Hyung and himself, but he knew it was almost already too late.

"Kyun, please at least tell me what's the plan here?" Kihyun ventured in a whisper.

"Well, I just thought... You see, studies have proven that, like," the rapper almost felt like crying, ashamed at the thought of saying the next words out loud. But he owed Kihyun that much honesty, for the latter had allowed him in his space and in his pain. His fingers drew patterns on the singer's forearm unconsciously, pinched distractedly at the skin on his flank, trying to ground himself. "Many studies have said that m-masturbation is a great headache reliever..."

Before he could even end his sentence, he felt the body underneath him tense and try to get free from his hold.

Kihyun had tried so hard to justify Changkyun's words and directives, had tried not to warp the well-intended help, but if he just had to rub one out for his pain to vanish, he would just know about it.

Trying to sit up, he pushed away the hand on his forehead but gave up as he felt his stomach lurch.

"Changkyun, just because you can't keep your hands off of your dick doesn't mean it's a cure to everything," Kihyun blurted out with an incredible sigh, teeth clenching and unclenching in an attempt to control his nausea.

"It's scientifically proven, Hyung. There's this doctor that looked at people's brains and he found out that, like, there's this part of the brain called the nucleus cuneiformis," Changkyun rambled on, desperately trying to get Kihyun to believe his intention to be genuine and not make him out to be some kind of pervert. Even though he did think Kihyun was very pretty.

"And it's hypothetically an area of the brain that controls pain, but it was found to get activated during orgasm. And out of six hundred lads, more than half of them reported relief from sexual activity for their headache. And also-"

"Changkyun, yes, okay." Kihyun cut through.

That was the part of Changkyun he was the wariest about. Because on the surface, he was goofy and came up with the most random bullshit, but when he scraped beyond that, he would fall down the Changkyun's rabbit hole. The one where he would get lost in endless explanations from Changkyun, the one where he would get sucked into this attractive intelligence, catching him by surprise at the most unexpected moments.

Changkyun was made of impromptu complex explanations and shitty ideas that made a somewhat balanced mixture and had allowed the boy to live beyond the life expectancy his clumsy facade had considerably shortened, in appearance at least.

Refusing to think about how Changkyun had discovered the studies and had actually retained the content of the articles, Kihyun exhaled, flopping back onto his pillows and side-eyeing Changkyun through his half-closed eyelids. The boy was sitting back on his heels, kneeling at the bedside and fiddling absent-mindedly with his fingertips while his eyes were anxiously trying to decipher the expression on Kihyun's face.

There was something so heartwrenching about the utter dedication the youngest would put in the things important to his heart, helping Kihyun's ache being one of them at the very moment. And Kihyun must have been crazy, insane even, to bring his bands back up to his neck and start all over again, give another chance for the man to fulfil his self-proclaimed duty.

The rationality in Kihyun's mind was long gone.

But so were the walls he put up around his heart. Because Changkyun somehow had the power to melt it all, break through it with the lightest touch, an impenetrable strength and an unbending will.

Kihyun allowed him to slither in the cracks of himself he never let anyone else notice, tolerated his bullshit much more than he should be able to take. He let Changkyun steal in his plates of food and sneak in his bedsheets, let him ask personal questions and escape his chores.

And the soft spot that Kihyun had for Changkyun did not seem to stop at sharing or stealing; for it was made of constant pushing and pulling, a constant pulling at Kihyun's limits and pushing of Changkyun's luck. But it worked, somehow. Where three years ago, the singer would not have let anyone breath in the direction of his clean bedsheets, he was now about to agree to his downfall. Agree to just faceplant harder and deeper into Im Changkyun.

"Are you sure about the efficiency of it, Kyun?" he groped around, hesitation holding back his consent right behind his teeth.

"The studies showed a clear relief from the pain after the subjects climaxed, either from self-stimulation or from engaging in a sexual romp with a partner," Changkyun blurted out, seemingly having swallowed a whole book about Weird shits and their weird studies.

"Okay, okay," the singer mumbled, mentally screaming at Changkyun to stop speaking about such a crude topic with his monotonous and deep voice. "Let's just go back to the beginning, shall we?"

Changkyun blinked slowly, loud silence buzzing in his ears as he took in the meaning of the sentence, as he took in the fact that Kihyun was letting him test his stupid theories. Wiping his suddenly sweaty hands on his sweatpants, he nestled back next to the bed, pressing his palm against Kihyun's forehead once more.

Since when Kihyun had allowed himself to be guided through pleasuring himself, he did not know. But he could not bear seeing the disappointed look on the man knelt beside him, the boy who so lovingly offered help, and he knew it; that if Changkyun could take all of Kihyun's pain and suffer on his behalf, he would.

And somehow, that unspoken promise was enough for Kihyun to trust and let the most intimate parts of himself be seen.

His hands back at work, Kihyun slowly rubbed his neck, feeling the rapper's breath back on his cheek, brushing along his jawline.

"You're doing good, Hyung," the praise raised goosebumps all over his skin, voice dripping heat over his cheekbone, soon followed by the soft lips pressing a kiss on the tingling spot.

Feeling bold, the singer dragged his hands leisurely over his torso, the ticklish feeling of Changkyun's eyelashes giving him the indication that the younger was watching his every move very attentively. Kihyun rubbed slow circles, each time nearer to his nipples but never quite reaching them, listening to Changkyun's breath growing more irregular.

The dull throb of his headache seemed to tug at him, reminding him what he was here for and at last, he covered the hardened buds with his palms, and he sighed as he felt the rapper release the breath he'd been holding in. Scrap the weak convincing from his brain; his nipples were sensitive. He didn't know how, didn't know why, but Kihyun felt a whimper catch in his throat as he tried pinching one of them.

God, it felt way too good.

It was Kihyun's first time playing with something other than his dick, usually just annoyed at having to masturbate. He'd always considered it a chore, wishing he could will his erections away with a simple glance at it and trying to get it over with in the fastest way possible.

But this was entirely new. Feeling himself up, exploring his body under a new dimension, his guts seemed to have been replaced with boiling water, sending shivers down his spine and embarrassing sounds up his throat. And he would have felt mortified, had it not been for Changkyun's whimpers accompanying his, buried in the crook of his neck.

Kihyun felt so hot all over. The worries of the heat aggravating his migraine pushed to the back of his brain; his main focus remained on the treatment of his nipples and the rapper's low groans vibrating against his jugular vein.

"Kyun," Kihyun tried his hardest to swallow down the whine. "N-next, what's next," he asked, miserably failing at his attempt.

"Down, bring them down," Changkyun's voice was muffled, almost strangled. Still, the mere sound of it made Kihyun's hair stand on his body. As he followed the command, Changkyun pressed slow kisses where his face was hidden, sloppily making out with his neck and filling the room with wet sounds.

After all, Changkyun was here to help. And helpful he was; Kihyun let out a louder whine as teeth nipped at his skin, sucking softly, and he felt himself growing hard in his sweatpants. In his rush to collapse in his bed, he'd even omitted to wear a pair of boxers.

Halting the slow trail of his nails scraping on his skin lightly, Kihyun stopped once again at the waistband of his bottoms, catching a glimpse of his own bulge between the hand covering his eyes. It was so embarrassing, popping a boner right then and there, but he'd never felt so aroused. Changkyun's tongue billowing on his jawline, wet and hot, his deep voice humming appreciatively at each move, he'd driven Kihyun mad; and hard.

"Go on," the youngest encouraged, twirling a strand of hair between his fingers and biting the shell of Kihyun's ear. "I can close my eyes if you don't want me to see it," he whispered teasingly, hoping to build a trusting environment and sounding way bolder than he actually felt.

Kihyun chuckled nervously, spreading his legs a little to adjust himself. He felt his hard-on lay on his lower stomach, right under the elastic of his waist, as the fabric faintly rubbed along the skin. He needed more, wanted more, and he moved his lower body again just to try and feel the friction. Changkyun's breath was hovering right over that one sensitive spot under his earring, tantalising and giving away the reason why Kihyun's habit was to fiddle with his ears so often.

Sensing the hesitation in Kihyun, Changkyun started drawing delicate patterns on the inside of his arm, nails trailing softly at the milky skin, playing with the hair on his forearm as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss on the shell of his ear. Kihyun's breath hitched, hips thrusting involuntarily, and Changkyun smirked in the kiss.

Perhaps that was Kihyun's last straw; perhaps those were the last grams of desperation he could fight against. Crossing that last mental boundary and letting go of everything, surrendering to his pleasure in his last attempt at dominating his pain, he cupped himself through his sweats.

So soft, the moan breaking through Kihyun's lips; it resounded like music to Changkyun's eardrums, taking away all the air in his lungs. He watched as Kihyun palmed himself, hips rocking to meet the pressure of his hand through the fabric, and he swore he'd never seen anything so beautiful.

So ridiculous, to think of his bandmate in such a situation as beautiful, yet he could rake his brains all he wanted; no other word would fit to describe the scene unravelling before his eyes.

Kihyun was, undoubtedly, beautiful, splayed on top of the white sheets, knees stretched wide and palm flat, providing a harder surface for his hips to grind against. The singer felt heat rise in his chest and his cheeks as fire spread through his veins and pooled in his dick. Touching himself shouldn't feel so good, even more under such forbidden circumstances.

"Don't worry, Hyung, just do it like you usually do," Changkyun whispered, watching the shy movements of Kihyun's hand, clumsy and rushed, hips moving of their own accord.

"You said you'd help me," the mumble had been uttered so softly that Changkyun could have sworn he'd hallucinated. But the bright pink adorning Kihyun's cheekbones confirmed the words had come from him, eyes resolutely shut tight in an attempt to block reality.

Never would Kihyun admit out loud that he only knew how to stroke himself to completion and call it a day; yet he wanted the pace to stay as it'd started, building up slowly and steadily, changing his bones into soft jello, his brain into thick fog and his heart into a drummer having the time of his life on a Nirvana song.

Recovering from the slight shock, Changkyun smiled against Kihyun's skin, humming to acknowledge his plea. If Kihyun gave him free rein to help him climax, who was Changkyun to deny him the best orgasm of his existence?

"Whenever you're ready," he breathed against his jaw, never wanting to rush him or pressure him. Palming himself above the layer of his pants seemed like a good start for the both of them; Changkyun's mouth resumed its kissing and licking everywhere it could reach, his arm angled oddly for his palm to still lay flat on Kihyun's forehead.

His other hand explored, investigating each curve and edge, discovering the body he'd seen so many times all over again. The fingers felt the ridges of the muscles, earning twitches from sensitive spots, goosebumps raising in the path of his oh-so-soft touch. Kihyun's own hand was still working himself slowly, tugging a bit more desperately, the outline of his cock perfectly drawn against the thin beam of light.

Ever so slowly, Changkyun swept his fingers up Kihyun's torso, rising and falling repeatedly in sharp intake of breaths. And without further ado, he reached for his nipple.

The result would have made him moan had he not feared hurting Kihyun's eardrums by hovering right next to his sensitive ears; arching his back, the singer let out a choked whimper, gripping hard on his cock as if to ground himself.

Changkyun pinched and pulled and twisted, registering every sound and spasm in Kihyun's body, alternating between soft and hard caresses, revelling in the responses he got. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Kihyun slowly pulled down his pants past his hips, finally able to circle his fingers around his girth. The rapper couldn't hold the moan that escaped his lips, eyes sparkling as he devoured the cock's silhouette with his eyes.

"That's it, feel it up," he growled, realising a bit too late that he'd spoken out loud.

"Stroke yourself Hyung, don't go too fast," he guided Kihyun through his every move, mesmerized by the regular motion of the wrist. Up and down. Up and down.

Kihyun truly felt like he was losing his mind. His whole body was throbbing, the twitchiness of his senses tenfold; he didn't know if it was the headache or the arousal anymore, but he flicked his wrist and felt the fingers resume their dance on his nipple, and he was truly, entirely gone.

"Stop," the singer heard the command and whined as he followed it, confused and frustrated. Had he done it wrong? Did Changkyun want to retreat to his room and let him finish alone? His heartbeat picked up, not wanting to think about why he didn't want the youngest to leave his side.

"Tease the tip," the whisper made his whole body shiver, either in arousal or in relief, Kihyun felt overwhelmed with both, and he laughed throatily before sliding his fingers along his shaft, feeling something sticky coat his digits. Hesitantly, he fingered around the tip of his leaking cock, unsure of what Changkyun wanted.

"Press in the slit, Ki," the man explained, such as a mindreader guessing Kihyun's thoughts.

"Where did you learn to speak like that, Kyun," Kihyun breathed out, way too aroused by such straightforward words.

"You don't wanna know," Changkyun's giggle filled the room as much as it filled Kihyun's heart, as the latter lightly pressed his short nail along his urethra.

And he swore under his breath, repeating the motion over and over again, feeling himself burning up and not knowing what to do with himself. With his nipple and his slit abused in such a way, he wouldn't be surprised to suddenly hear a cherub's singing above his head and white light surrounding him. For it truly felt like he'd died and had been sent to heaven, gifted with the most amazing sensations one could ever feel throughout a lifetime.

Perhaps Changkyun had caught onto the sensitivity of the man; perhaps he just wanted to make the most out of the helpful hand he'd offered. But as he saw Kihyun's hands' motions getting more erratic and desperate, stopping at times as if his body couldn't handle the stimulation, Changkyun halted his own movements.

Way too gone, Kihyun barely registered anything happening around him. He barely registered the fingers stopping, the mouth pressing on the corner of his lips, barely registered the overwhelming desperation of wanting to be kissed, barely registered the warmth of Changkyun leaving his side. He whined, groping the air at his side, blindly trying to find a hand, a shoulder, anything that belonged to Changkyun that would relieve his worries of having been left alone to deal with something way too foreign to him.

Until he felt it; felt his bed cave in under an additional weight, felt the familiar heat surround his legs, felt the soft hands grip at his burning flesh, making his cock jump in his hand. Changkyun was there, closer than ever, his grip burning with the promise of future bruises. Invading his space a bit more, Kihyun sensed the body adjusting between his open legs, shifting into a comfortable position.

From this new angle, Changkyun could take in all the expressions on Kihyun's visage. Eyebrows knit together, a small crease shaped his forehead such as marble, those very same creases that appeared whenever the singer had to hit those painfully high notes. His eyes were still shut tight, proof of the relinquishing trust he had in Changkyun, lips parted in the most beautiful sounds.

And the young man was overwhelmed with fondness and affection, vaguely thinking about how the singer's traits seemed to carve into the same bliss, both when he was singing and pleasuring himself. He massaged the thighs he'd been gripping as if asking for forgiveness to the reddening skin through his touch, inching closer to Kihyun's crotch.

The latter's hand had not left his rigid cock, still following the occasional "faster" or "slower" instructions uttered by Changkyun, while his other fist clutched the cotton sheets at his side.

If they had been playing this game of push and pull until then, Changkyun knew he was about to pull out his last card, playing bold and risking it all. Kihyun was made of excessive clicking of his tongue and furrowed brows; he was made of walls around his heart he thought were made of steel, but that Changkyun had discovered to be made of cardboard.

And just like that, the rapper raised all-in; he pressed his palm on top of Kihyun's, easing his presence on him, taking his guidance to another level. From words to actions, he didn't want to play anymore, and after a few seconds of letting his hand just ride Kihyun's rhythm on his cock, he squeezed slightly.

When Changkyun felt his hand close in on the pulsing member, he knew then, that Kihyun had surrendered his everything to him. And how ready was he, to worship Kihyun to his last moan, carry his fears through a heaven set on fire and make liquid heat rush beneath his skin.

Kihyun had completely abandoned himself to Changkyun's voice, to his hands, to his warmth; his forgotten headache throbbing dangerously, but Kihyun did not care, dared not care. Throat sore from moaning so much, his hips squirmed and stuttered, thrusting into the expert fist tugging at his cock, tight and so, so fucking good. The bedsheets threatening to tear apart, Kihyun twisted and fisted at them, clenching and unclenching his grip, getting lost in the pleasure.

He was so close yet still not quite there, feeling the heat coiled in his lower back, like a flame licking his insides and growing menacingly, vowing to explode in a multitude of sparks and inflame every centimetre of his body. And all Kihyun needed was right there between his legs, the fuel required for his fire to be set free and ablaze.

Kihyun's cock glistened with precum, oozing out and spreading on Changkyun's hand, easing the strokes. Changkyun wanted more, wanted the quintessence of it all; watch it, touch it, smell it, taste it. He lowered his face, eyes glassy and unfocused, yet very much able to concentrate on the pretty cock poking out of his fist.

Like a cat lapping at milk for the first time, he peaked out his tongue, shy and testing, revelling in the way Kihyun's back arched, leaning into the touch.

"Kyun, Kyun, I need," the singer didn't even know what he needed anymore. Throbbing from head to cock, he felt sick with depravity and pain, unwilling to stop anything in fear of exploding from any end. He needed the pain to stop so bad, needed more than Changkyun's tongue on his cock, needed a release of any kind. Tears pooled at the corner of his eyes, and he almost screamed, gravely moans spilling out when he felt the mouth engulfing his dick.

He thought it was the end of him, thought this was it; they had reached the paroxysm of pleasure, of giving and receiving, of pushing and pulling, and yet the vibration around his cock sent him further up the clouds, feeling it in his balls and his ass. He cried out, begging for more yet wanting this pain to cease. He wanted the darkness to immerse him, all the while being surrounded by thick, white fog.

Changkyun eased his throat, moaning around the cock in his mouth, spit dripping down the corner of his stretched lips. It was so good; it felt amazing. Kihyun's cock felt so right in his mouth, heavy and so, so big, pulsing with life; it had been moulded to be shoved down Changkyun's mouth, and he took everything, feeling the tip hit the back of his throat.

Hollowing his cheeks, he bobbed his head up and down, gagging slightly as he fucked his own mouth, hand gripped around the base. He pulled away to breath, never taking it out of his mouth, tongue swirling around the tip, digging in the slit and tracing the veins along the shaft.

"Fuck, fuck, Changkyun- I think something's not right," Kihyun yelped, thighs trembling with each flick of the tongue along his sensitive tip.

"What is it, what's wrong Hyung," Changkyun whispered as he pulled away, cradling the slick dick in his hands fondly, pressing reassuring kisses on Kihyun's inner thighs.

"I think I'm going to, to have a seizure or- please don't stop," Kihyun babbled, crying out the last bit of his sentence.

The rapper chuckled, enamoured with the helpless tone in Kihyun's plea, and obliged. He dived back for the stiff cock, replacing his hands with his mouth. His own hard dick was pressing against his thigh, trapped between the weight of his body and the bed underneath. But he was adamant on finishing Kihyun off, one way or another, and so he sucked, moaning lewdly as he felt it slide all the way down his throat, swallowing around the tip and choking for air.
 
"Changkyun, move!" the urgent command came with an involuntary kick of Kihyun's legs. He felt it coming; whatever it was, it was about to kill him.

Kihyun was about to pass away from a headache - or a blowjob.

And Changkyun wasn't pulling away.

Picking up his pace, he took the cock the deepest he could go, whimpering pathetically as it hit his throat, straining his lips, hurting so good; he swallowed, gagging and choking, never pulling away and pressing his head further into Kihyun's lower belly. He wanted all of him, wanted to taste him; his nose brushed against the singer's pubis, and he was gone. Changkyun's eyes rolled back, feeling the cock pulse with life so deep inside him, feeling the twitch of Kihyun's whole body under his hands.

An ear-splitting moan pierced through the room as Kihyun came. Feeling his cock buried in Changkyun's wet and tight mouth, feeling him moan and swallow, the man was clearly enjoying what he was doing, and god damn, it was hot. Kihyun felt the fire spread through his whole being, a thin layer of sweat coating his body as all his muscles tensed. The flame licked inside his guts, spread through his cock and exploded; his cum shot out in thick, white spurts, all gulped down hastily by a hungry mouth, Changkyun's jaw gone slack with exhaustion.

Kihyun's whole body violently stuttered and shivered, spasms shaking him in waves as he rode his orgasm, long, drawn-out moans resounding loudly and shattering the initial serenity of the place with pure, unadulterated filth. His brain was enveloped in a horny mush, thighs trembling each time the tongue lapped at the cum still pouring out. A waterfall crackled in Kihyun's eardrums, heart beating alarmingly fast; he'd been wrecked.

In the middle of slowly coming back to life, Kihyun raked his weak brain, thinking back on all these times he'd jacked off, snorting as he recalled the usual spurts of semen and twitching of his abdominal muscles, which were nothing compared to what he'd just lived. He was convinced of it now, that he had just experienced his first, full-body orgasm of his life from the mouth of his bandmate.

The blissful experience had left him short of breath, drenched in sweat and strangely peaceful. It was like he'd been run over by a truck and thrown in a bed made of marshmallows and soft pillows; he felt warm and cold at the same time, his body was sticky, yet his soul felt cleansed. He felt the weight between his legs climb out of bed, and he didn't need to search for Changkyun this time, for he knew he was always there, for he knew before he could feel him sit back at his side that he'd come back to him.

Because Im Changkyun was made of impromptu complex explanations and shitty ideas, and he was made of unwavering promises and heart-wrenching devotion, Kihyun had trusted him, trusted that he would circle back to him. And there he was, hand back on his forehead, petting his hair and whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

"No fucking way," startling the both of them, Kihyun straightened up on his bed, grabbing Changkyun's hand in his own to sit up properly.

"W-what?" the rapper asked, blinking confusedly, cheeks flushing from the hand holding. He slapped himself mentally, reminding his brain he'd just held a cock with the same hand and that he had no business getting shy about such domestic intimacy.

Kihyun let go of his hand, stretching his back, feeling his temples with the pad of his trembling fingers. He shook his head carefully from left to right, up and down, circled it and flopped down on his bed.

"I can't believe it, Changkyun, it really worked," he smiled gleefully, still feeling his forehead and his neck with his hands. The throbbing headache had died down, reduced to a mere buzz that swished around his skull whenever he shook his head too strongly.

"You're such a weirdo, god," Kihyun resumed, heartily laughing and rolling on his side to face Changkyun, who was still kneeling at the foot of his bed and watching him with adoration in his eyes.

"Thanks", the rapper grumbled, knees cracking loudly as he stood up and stretched his arms. He was still hard in his pants, and he shifted uncomfortably as he tried to exit the room silently.

"Wait, didn't you want to tell me something?" Kihyun asked, his chin scrunched up in disbelief upon seeing the younger leave so promptly.

"It's fine Hyung, you just rest, and we can talk later," Changkyun started, an almost imperceptible ounce of something oscillating between sadness and regret in his voice; Kihyun hesitated, but still, he quickly grabbed the hem of Changkyun's shirt before he could get out of reach and pulled.

He pulled him, like he himself had been pulled, because it was enough of pushing.

"You can stay."

A whisper oh-so-soft, making Changkyun's stomach flutter and plummet somewhere in his guts, so different from the disgruntled Kihyun shooing him off through the door. He was on the other side of that door now, within reach of a thousand stars to explore inside Kihyun's galactical brain.

They stood there, looking at each other in the frozen peace, afraid of burning themselves were they to utter a mere word, a mere whisper. And yet, the sparks in their glowing eyes could have set a thousand fires. And Changkyun gave in; gave in to Kihyun's pulling. Pulling of his shirt, pulling of his whole being.

He flopped down on Kihyun's bed, admiring how beautiful Kihyun looked in the after-glow of his climax and the sheer relief on the traits of his face.

Changkyun was unsure of what to say, whether he should even speak, and all his doubts vanished when he heard Kihyun's voice break the silence.

"What did you say it's called? That part of our brain?" he asked, fiddling with his sheets, suppressed laughter shaking his voice.

Changkyun chuckled, breathing through his nose as the corner of his mouth flickered upward; he looked up at Kihyun, their eyes meeting, and his mouth suddenly felt dry, realising they hadn't looked at each other properly ever since he'd stepped in.

And he saw it, in Kihyun's eyes, in the way they sparkled, that the game was far from over, that they were going to push and pull until they'd break all the rules.

He smiled.

"Nucleus Cuneiformis."