Chapter Text
Minho is still drilling the choreography, which shouldn’t surprise Changbin at this point. He’s a perfectionist, which extends through to the rest of the members when it comes to performances.
Minho tuts, wants to see everyone’s work on the bridge before the chorus, needs the formation tightened for the right effect. So he says.
“Ahh, hyung,” Jisung starts, “You said we’d take a break an hour ago.”
“If hyung was happy with our progress an hour ago, maybe we would have.” Minho fires back, and scrolls the track to a few measures before the bridge. Jisung, thankfully, shuts up.
It’s the first verse, so it’s Changbin’s part. They all jump and wiggle a bit and then hop right into the routine, just as he’s miming his words in addition to the hip movement. Changbin thinks for a second that maybe they’ve found their groove, but then the music cuts off before the chorus.
“Chan-hyung,” Minho says, “Wasn’t you who said that we should be surprising everyone with this new side of us? How we should be putting out a whole new Stray Kids?”
“Uh,” Chan replies, a little confused, “Yeah, this comeback’s a bit different.”
Minho scratches his chin comically, taking exaggerated steps around the practice room. “So why is it,” he pauses, “that some of us are still dancing like little boys?”
“I’m not sure I follow you, Minho-yah.” Chan says.
“This is an edgier concept, which needs an edgier dance, yes? So why are we moving our hips like they’re fused with our spines?” Minho makes a face, “I feel like I’m chaperoning a middle school dance.”
“Now I wouldn’t go that far-”
“Yah, hyung!”
There’s a clamor of protests, and Minho puts his hands up in surrender. Then, of course, his gaze hardens. “Prove me wrong, then. Hyung’ll show you how the hip move should go, and then you’ll all demonstrate that you were already doing it perfectly and that I had no reason to stop us. Deal?”
Changbin is a little too old to take the bait, but there’s a fire in the rest of their eyes. Chan just looks tired, but he shakes his head in fondness.
The track is rolled back, and Minho first illustrates the move without the music, talking through how he swivels his hips in slow motion. Then, the track plays the bridge and Minho’s dancing powerfully, as usual. It’s definitely sensual, definitely a move their fans haven’t seen before. At least, certainly not in a title track.
Now, Changbin’s zeroed in on the motions in the dance, the aggressive smoothness of the movement. He’s pretty sure he’s got it, but he’ll wait his turn.
“I’ll start with the ones I’m not worried about.” Minho says, “So, Jinnie-ah, let’s see it.”
“You’re so cruel, hyung.” Seungmin pouts from his spot on the floor.
“You should try not to concern me, then, Kim Seungmin.”
Jisung touches Seungmin’s skin briefly, miming recoiling his hand when he makes a sizzling noise through his teeth.
Hyunjin hits the choreo perfectly, his hips looking almost possessed with the rhythm. Changbin’s not certain how he got so good with sexy dances like this, but he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
One by one, Minho calls up the members, till the bridge is imprinted in Changbin’s brain. It plays through his mind even when the room’s silent, only the sound of Minho’s critiques and guidance in the large space.
By the time Minho gets to Changbin, he’s pretty sure he’s the last of the boys to be summoned. Changbin wonders for a second if that means he’s the one Minho has to worry about the most. Changbin’s suddenly determined to knock it out of the park.
Minho queues up the bridge section one more time, and Changbin gives it, quite literally, his all. He’s even rapping, grinding his hips in what he hopes is an approximation of what Minho was illustrating earlier.
Weirdly, Minho’s just staring at him as it plays through the chorus. He half-dances like he’s expecting Minho to still want to observe him.
Finally, Minho turns off the track. “Well, Changbinnie. Color your hyung impressed.” He is smiling, one of his proud smiles that brightens his face.
Changbin ventures a glance out at the rest of the members. Seungmin’s covering Jeongin and Felix’s eyes, Hyunjin’s mouth is hanging open, Jisung’s whooping, and Chan-
Well, Chan is very, very red. From his cheeks all the way up to his ears.
Changbin laughs, because what else would he do? “That bad, huh?”
“Are you kidding, hyung?” Jisung looks like he can’t quite believe what he just saw. “I kind of hope there won’t be a live audience because someone could and would literally die after watching that.”
Jeongin moans painfully, “We can’t afford a lawsuit, please. It’s too sexy.” He’s taken up the mantle of covering his own eyes.
“You’re not changing that. At all. It’s hyung’s order.” Minho says, with the odd finality he always seems to have when it comes to discussions.
They continue on for just a few more minutes, and Changbin’s not sure if the rest of them realize it, but Minho definitely punked them. He’s a master motivator, in his own way. Deliberate intimidation is motivation, as far as Changbin is concerned. Whatever’ll get the kids to dance for just a little longer.
They’re all sweaty messes as they pile into the vans back to the dorms. Changbin’s tried to make conversation with Chan twice as they were packing up, but Chan wouldn’t meet his eyes, or respond with more than a few words.
Changbin didn’t think that today was especially tiring for him, or, at least he’s not abandoning the rest of them to go overwork in the studio till 5:30 in the morning. So, why does it seem like Chan’s ignoring him?
It’s not worth overthinking about, however, especially when a hot shower and an empty room are calling his name. He grins to himself as they ride the elevator up, abnormally proud for defying everyone’s expectations. He thinks that’s his favorite thing to do, anyways.
-
Preparing for a comeback is always exhausting. But, it’s the kind of exhausting that feels meaningful, like he’s training for the Olympics. There’s filming, and practice, and interviews, and practice, and variety shows, and practice. It’s so incredibly taxing, but Changbin’ll catch the eye of another member and find them grinning back at him with a wry excitement in their gaze.
Except for Chan. Chan will look at him, sure. But there’s no boyish fervency to be found. Instead, he’ll only glance and then look away, saying whatever he was planning to say to the mirror, or to the wall. And Changbin can’t put any other label on it other than shy. What reason does his hyung have to be shy around him?
Changbin almost cannot recall a time before Chan’s eager loyalty, before Chan would drape himself on Changbin like a wrinkly shirt. It’s been days, however, since Chan has even touched him.
A bolt of anxiety goes through Changbin, then. He wonders if the distance is his fault, something that he did to make Chan not feel comfortable around him. He’s never been one to beat around the bush, though. So upon his realization, he makes his way to Chan’s studio to talk it out.
He knocks lightly because if Chan’s working on something he won’t be able to hear him anyways.
Changbin opens the studio door, and there’s Chan, of course, sitting at the desk with his headphones on. His laptop is open to a video, it seems. Changbin cranes his head to get a look at it, and it’s a dance practice video. They use them to check their lines, their formations, and to spot any problems.
But this is a funny practice video. It’s just Changbin. And Changbin can hear the brief melody of the bridge before Chan can stop it. The video is cropped to just Changbin, doing his rap before the chorus in the first verse of Maniac. Changbin can’t forget it, not after how many times Minho ran them through the move.
Changbin’s mouth goes a little dry as he puts the pieces together. Chan’s watching essentially a fancam of one of their practices, where the focus is him. But, fancams of practices don’t exist, especially not one from the middle of their comeback preparations. So how did he even-
“Oh! Hey, Bin-ah, um, what’s up?” Chan slams the laptop closed, his voice rising at the end to nearly a squeak.
“I came to talk to you.” Changbin plows through the fuzz in his brain. “Just wanted to ask a question.”
Chan’s face is impossibly red, looking like Changbin took both his palms and slapped Chan on either cheek.
“Um, alright, sure, hyung can help. Whatever you need.”
Chan’s always like this. Will lay down everything to the benefit of his kids. When Chan says whatever you need , he means it seriously. Hearing it floods Changbin with warm respect and familial comfort. He loves Chan, he really, really does.
“Did I do something to hurt you, or to make you feel uncomfortable? If I did, hyung, I want you to tell me honestly.”
Chan sputters, “What? Bin, no, n-never.” His eyes are bouncing around, tracking everything but Changbin.
“Why are you avoiding me, then? You won’t look at me, even here.” Changbin tries not to let any emotion bleed into his voice, but he misses Chan’s attention like a limb.
“Oh,” Chan sounds guilty, and raises his face to finally meet Changbin’s. “I’m sorry, Binnie. I-I guess I’m getting in my head about this comeback, um. Hyung doesn’t mean to ignore you.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Changbin asks, openly. He brings his hand up to lay it on top of Chan’s, squeezing a little.
Curiously, Chan blushes again. It’s not a typical response, especially not a deep enough flush for Changbin to notice.
“A-ah, no. Hyung’ll take care of it. Just need to get some confidence back.” Chan smiles at him, in that little crooked smirk that’s full of nothing but empty reassurance. His neck is flushed, too. It’s all so strange.
“Okay, hyung. I’ll stop bothering you about it then.” Changbin rolls his eyes, fondly, only mildly frustrated that Chan refuses to talk his emotions out. It’s typical for him, but Changbin’s mature jutdae is all about open communication and Chan knows that, tries to foster that in the group. Can’t take any advice for himself.
“What are you working on, then?” Changbin changes the subject.
“Nothing,” Chan says quickly, and then adds, “Just reviewing some dance practices.”
“In here? We never watch them in the studio, hyung.” Changbin counters.
“Mixing it up never hurts, Bin-ah.”
“Maybe this is why you’re in your head about it, hyung. If you don’t spend some time away from the comeback, how’re you supposed to rest?” Changbin rests his forearms on the top of the other chair, bending forward to get into Chan’s space.
“Rest? Me?” Chan laughs, and Changbin knows he’s just trying to avoid the topic.
They talk for a few more minutes, and then Changbin resolves to let Chan work through this alone. He did all that he could.
-
Chan gets slightly better, interacting with Changbin mostly normally. Though, it’s not quite back to before. They’re doing final run-throughs of choreography, music shows looming on the horizon, when Changbin cracks the whole thing wide open.
Just to see, Changbin spares a few glances towards Chan while they’re dancing, and every single time he looks back Chan’s eyes are glued to Changbin’s lower half. Changbin would almost try to scold him for being distracted, if Minho didn’t get to it first.
“Ah, hyung!” Minho shouts over the track, “Where the hell are you looking? Do you think fans will want to watch you perform for the dirt? Because that’s the only thing you’re making eye contact with.” Minho’s got an exasperated expression, but he’s smiling.
“Sorry, Lee Know!” Chan shakes his head, blushing, and then gets back into the game.
In the space of a moment, Changbin understands. All the pieces come together, and Changbin feels a flush on his own chest, that has nothing to do with the sweat that’s pouring off of him.
When they’re released, surprisingly early, the ride back to the dorms is quiet and dark. Changbin’s brain is turning restlessly.
The apartment is quiet, save for the hum of the heaters. Changbin takes a quick shower, and tries to think it all through.
He goes to the kitchen for some water, and Chan’s there. He’s shirtless, at the counter facing the wall, so Changbin doesn’t really know what he’s doing.
Changbin gives a careful listen, hearing Jisung’s latest game coming from his room. Hyunjin never makes any noise. It’s as good a time as ever for Changbin to test his theory.
He comes up behind Chan, though he’s sure Chan can hear him. Changbin rests his chin on Chan’s naked left shoulder.
“Hey, hyung,” he says, low, “Good work today.” His arms rest on the edge of the counter now, effectively caging him in.
Chan goes stiff. He tries to laugh it off, typical.
“What’re you doing, Bin-ah? You can’t already miss me, we, uh, just saw each other.” Chan’s fingers are twisting together.
“Just wanted to ask you a question.” Changbin says, “Just wanted to see if I’m right.”
Cutely, Chan can’t get more than a word out without pausing. “Um, sure, y-yeah. W-what can I answer for you?”
“Have you been watching me?” Changbin is careful to say this quietly, not pressing up against Chan at all. He’s pretty sure he’s right about this, but he doesn’t want to scare Chan away. Chan’s so reticent to letting himself have anything remotely enjoyable.
Chan says nothing, but Changbin can hear him breathe. He decides to press on.
“Huh, hyung? Have you been thinking about me?”
Chan replies, so soft Changbin almost misses it.
“What’d you say?”
“Yes. I have.” Chan stutters out a breath, “I have been thinking about you.”
Changbin hums. Got him.
“What have you been thinking about, hm? Can you tell me, hyung?” He lets his exhale fan out over the back of Chan’s neck. Letting him feel Changbin’s closeness without overwhelming him.
“I-” Chan hangs his head, “It’s embarrassing. I can’t, uh, say it.”
“Can I guess?” Changbin feels a heat between them, the tension they’re building together in the small dorm kitchen. It’s electrifying.
Chan nods.
“Have you been thinking about my cock, hyung?” Changbin moves his hand up to slide his thumb against Chan’s jaw.
“Y-yeah.” Chan is shaking. His hands are trembling. Changbin feels drunk on the warmth.
Chan is so beautiful here, unmade and rumpled, shirtless in the kitchen. Changbin wants to hear him beg.
Changbin takes the opportunity to press himself against Chan’s naked back. He pulls on Chan’s arm, till it rests against the countertop. He wants Chan to feel stable. Chan’s practically vibrating in his arms.
It’s enough to get Changbin hard. Their bodies meet conspicuously, with Changbin’s cock pushing right at Chan’s tight, rounded ass. He gives a slow drag of his cock against Chan, rolling his hips in a mockery of a deep, slow thrust.
Chan gasps on an inhale, his other hand reaching out for the counter. He sways on his feet, just a little.
“Bin,” Chan’s breathless. “I-I, uh,”
“You what, hyung? You want me to fuck you? I’ve seen how closely you watched me dance this month. You want me to grind my cock into you like I’ve been practicing?” Changbin says it barely above a whisper. Despite how hot it feels, Changbin has to remind himself that they aren’t alone.
Chan keens, reedy and high and like Changbin’s never heard. His hyung, reduced to this with just a grind. It’s endearing. Maybe Chan will finally let go and have what he wants.
Changbin leans forward, taking a few steps until he can feel Chan’s hip bump the counter. He puts a little weight on Chan, cornering him.
He’s fully hard now, his lounge shorts pulled taut over his dick. Changbin wants to do what he said, wants to fuck Chan with these slow, tortured thrusts.
“Tell me, hyung. What do you want?”
“I-,” Chan breathes, tongue working in his mouth, because Changbin can hear the subtle noise of it. “I want you to. T-to take me right here.”
Oh. Changbin’s brain turns to mush. He grinds forward, the weight of it delicious as he makes Chan cling to the countertop.
“Hyung,” Changbin’s lips are behind Chan’s ear, “You want me to fuck you in the kitchen? Where anyone could walk in and see you taking my cock? See it pumped into you so deep?”
Chan is full on moaning, now, definitely audible for anyone who even came close to the front rooms.
“Please, Bin-ah, just keep going. Wanna feel you.” Chan surrenders, fully bending over the kitchen counter and presenting his ass for Changbin to thrust against.
Changbin doesn’t waste a second, breathing hard as he keeps his hips moving slow and measured. His cock is so hard, and he can tell that he’s going to come if he keeps on.
It takes a particularly heavy drag for Changbin to feel Chan’s ass spread for him, noticeable through the layers of fabric. Changbin groans loud enough that he’s nervous for a minute, but it doesn’t stop him.
The friction of it all is just enough to stimulate him, and Chan, too, if his noises are anything to go by. It’s so, so hot, the two of them too eager to even pull their pants out of the way. Changbin just continues to grind into Chan’s ass, slow and nasty, never picking up his pace, just giving Chan enough to feel, to imagine.
“Hyung wants it, Bin” Chan’s face is pillowed in his folded arms. “Hyung wants it deep. You’ll put it inside, yeah? Been thinking about it. Watching you do that move has been driving me crazy. I-”
Chan gets less composed as he’s talking. The heat between them builds, just like the crescendo of their breath. Changbin leans forward, too, once again with his chest meeting Chan’s naked back.
It’s so close to fucking, so intimate and right, with a few more rolls of his hips he starts to stutter against the swell of Chan’s ass. Changbin, unbelievably, comes in pants in the kitchen from dry humping his hyung.
It’s not twenty seconds after Changbin’s come that he notices Chan’s forearm is in his shorts. He’s jerking himself off furiously, panting hotly underneath Changbin. Chan’s hips jump, and a few strokes later, Chan comes, too. He moans so high and sweet, it’s intoxicating. If it had been just a few minutes later, Changbin thinks he could get hard again. As it is, his cock just gives a weak twitch in his stained underwear.
They catch their breath, and Changbin thinks it’s warranted a bit of affection. So, he gives Chan’s shoulders and neck a few languid kisses. Chan’s so delirious he just melts.
Changbin steps back and rubs a hand over his face. He turns to grab a towel and-
Jisung is rooted in place, eyes as wide as saucers. Changbin nearly screams before he realizes who it is. Chan senses his alarm, and turns. He meets Jisung’s gaze, and Changbin looks between the two of them.
“ Shit. ” Jisung says, as eloquent as ever.