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Sanghyuk thinks he hasn’t blinked in the past three minutes. It’s hard to look away from the stage, from the colorful lights and the flashy setup, much less from the semi-naked gyrating body in the middle of it. There’s a moment of sheer and irrepressible panic that Sanghyuk isn’t meant to do this. He might be a decent dancer, a diligent aspiring performer, but he isn’t sure if he’s able to move on stage with such abandon and sensuality.
He’s pretty sure he doesn’t have the body for it – all overgrown limbs and bones with no defined muscles to speak of, and he’s sure as hell isn’t as handsome as the guy performing right now.
Hongbin, as the host introduced him just now, is a vision: sinewy body moving gracefully with the music, powerful but delicate, and the expression on his beautiful face is enough to make Sanghyuk’s breath catch in his throat. The flimsy white shirt he’d ripped open flares behind him, a pretty hand brushing down his sweat slicked torso before he finishes on his knees, head thrown back and barely-covered cock thrusted in the audience’s faces.
The thunderous applause that follows drowns out Ken’s words as the host climbs up the stage, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all.
“That was the ever so gorgeous Hongbin, ladies and gentlemen,” he crows, casually stroking the underside of the dancer’s chin as he passes by. “Thank you, darling.”
Hongbin doesn’t seem affected by it, taking the stairs down to the backstage lightly, and Sanghyuk wonders if there’s something going on between them. Although Ken had actually called the Leo guy from before chickadee - and got a deadly glare for it in return.
On stage, Ken pauses dramatically and the crowd quiets down. The host beams, satisfied with the effect he gets, before launching off again. “Now, this is the part of the night you’ve all been waiting for, even if you don’t know it yet,” Ken grins, sharp and pleased. “I introduce to you, our legendary battling duo, N and Ravi!”
Sanghyuk remembers Sungjae telling him about this act, even before he’d recommended Sanghyuk to try out for a position. And, honestly, Sanghyuk doesn’t really want to think about how his best friend knows so much about the ins and outs of an all-male strip club.
A lone figure appears onstage amidst the blinding spotlight, a tall and well-built silhouette. He starts moving to the beat and the innate dancer in Sanghyuk can’t help but bop along, until the lights come back on and he gets distracted by the guy entering the stage. He’s slighter than the first, but his rhythm is impeccable, every move fluid and just bordering on obscene. They’re both performing to their own groove, but somehow they’re complementing each other, bodies moving in such harmony that Sanghyuk can’t tear his eyes away.
Until the beat drops, and they suddenly live up to their act’s name. It’s a battle to be the best attraction, shirts discarded and pants yanked off in provocative moves Sanghyuk can’t even imagine pulling off. They’re face-to-face now, almost dancing for each other, but they’re still fighting over the top spot, one swivel of hips more erotic than the other. The smaller guy slides across the stage, legs splayed and limbs pliant, bared golden torso slick with sweat and oil. He’s staring the patrons down, eyes heavy lidded, and Sanghyuk wonders how he can look so submissive yet predatory at the same time.
Sanghyuk’s so immersed that he momentarily forgets about the other dancer, until he approaches his partner, tangling his fingers into jet black hair, pulling at it. The guy glides up against the other’s leg, open mouth trailing along a muscled thigh, chest heaving with exaggerated panting. The one standing clenches his eyes shut, stomach muscles contracting with barely-there control, enjoying the attention. In a brief instant it’s gone, the two of them springing apart, writhing with loss, hands running tenderly over their own bodies before they go bolder, gyrating together with the music. It’s a battle again, hair yanked and necks bared, illusions of a touch and faces so overcame with lust Sanghyuk feels himself throbbing in his jeans. They finish facing each other, a breath apart, almost like kissing, except for the smug grins on both their faces as the audience roars wildly.
The host only climbs on after they left, fanning himself and whistling into the mic. “I don’t think anything can be hotter than that,” he declares, and the crowd cheers in agreement.
Sanghyuk’s still slightly dizzy from witnessing the performance, remembering bits of what Sungjae told him about the infamous N and Ravi – how their rivalry extends beyond the stage, supposedly not even talking to each other when they’re off it. Sanghyuk wonders how true it is, how that tension he sees a couple of minutes ago translates into real life. After all, he’s about to be their colleague, and he would hate to step on anyone’s toes, so to speak.
Ken is wrapping up the night, thanking everyone for coming and spending their money, and enticing them to come again soon. Sanghyuk jumps a little at the soft pat on his shoulder, turning around to find the owner smiling at him. He’s met the man exactly twice, when he came in for an audition, and earlier tonight before he was asked to observe the seniors and get the feel of what he was about to jump into.
“Ready to meet them?” he asks, and Sanghyuk feels himself twitching with nervous energy even as he nods.
Sanghyuk is led through the backstage door, passing by two burly security guys, and ends up in front of what appears to be the waiting room. It’s raucous even from outside, and he sees more than hear the owner sighing, possibly too used to the situation after a show. He pushes the door open and walks in with Sanghyuk in tow, raising his voice to be heard.
“Guys, I have somebody I want you to meet,” he says, as soon as the noise level comes down. “This here is Sanghyuk, he’s our new addition.”
Sanghyuk doesn’t really know what to do but bow in greeting. “Hello, nice to meet you. I’m Sanghyuk.”
“Hyogie!” Ken exclaims, grinning widely at him from where he’s leaning against a dressing table. “That’s what we’re going to call you.”
Hongbin glares at him side-long, knocking him with an elbow. “Who says you’re allowed to make that decision? You suck at coming up with names.”
The owner raises his hands, a long suffering look on his face. “I’ll give you guys some time to get acquainted, okay? Then we’ll decide. Please show him the ropes, I’m counting on you all.”
N, who’s slumped on the couch, salutes the owner. Suddenly Sanghyuk’s left alone in the middle of the room, hands clasped in front of him, hyper aware of how much he doesn’t look like a stripper.
“How old are you, Sanghyuk?” N asks him.
“Uh – I’m twenty.”
N nods, his lips pursed. “You’re the youngest, then. I thought so,” he hums, then surprises Sanghyuk with a bright grin. “I’m Hakyeon, by the way.”
“Hi, I’m Jaehwan!” Ken adds, waving at him enthusiastically only to get his hand smacked by a frowning Hongbin.
Hongbin turns to Sanghyuk with a warm smile, though, dimples flashing. “I’m Hongbin.”
Jaehwan coos, pinching his cleft chin and making a face. “Baby here doesn’t need a stage name, he’s that awesome.”
Hongbin groans and elbows him again, but Jaehwan just keeps on grinning at him. They’re perpetually pressed against each other, Sanghyuk notices, and it isn’t long until the look in Hongbin’s eyes soften. Sanghyuk looks away, feeling like he’s spying on something intimate.
A soft voice from his left startles him. “My name’s Taekwoon. Nice to meet you.”
Sanghyuk smiles and turns to the only person who hasn’t introduced himself. Ravi is sprawled on the opposite end of the couch from Hakyeon, looking bored out of his mind. He tilts his head and smiles at Sanghyuk, eventually.
“Wonshik,” he says, the low timbre of his voice somehow matching Sanghyuk’s expectation of him.
Hakyeon leaps off the couch and approaches Sanghyuk, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “If you ever need any help, you can always come to me, you hear?”
Wonshik scoffs, a mocking expression on his face. “Don’t you fall for that,” he tells Sanghyuk. “You go to him once, and he’ll attach himself to you like an octopus.”
“Shut up,” Hakyeon snaps, scowling. “You’re just jealous I only cling to adorable people like Sanghyuk here.”
Wonshik’s eyebrow arches, and he smirks lazily. “Yeah, okay.”
“Stop it,” Taekwoon interrupts, gentle but firm. “You’re making Sanghyuk uncomfortable.”
At the sound of Taekwoon’s voice, Jaehwan seems to remember that someone new has joined them. “Let’s go have some drinks, guys. Let’s celebrate!”
There’s a chorus of protests all around, and Jaehwan pouts ridiculously, perching his chin on Hongbin’s shoulder. Hongbin unwraps what appears to be a candy and feeds it to him wordlessly.
“I’m tired, I’m going home,” Taekwoon says, earning him noises of agreement from Hakyeon and Wonshik.
Jaehwan turns to Hongbin, lower lip still jutting out. “What about you, Binnie?”
“I have to come with you, don’t I?” Hongbin sighs. “You’re my ride.”
“Oh, yeah,” Jaehwan croons, rolling his hips against Hongbin’s leg suggestively. “You can say that again.”
Hongbin shoots him a glare and shoves him away. “Stop being gross,” he groans. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”
Jaehwan just beams at him, unrepentant, and hops onto his back unceremoniously. Hongbin rolls his eyes but allows him the piggyback ride, patting his tailbone as they say goodbye and exit through the back door.
Sanghyuk turns to Taekwoon, possibly with a lost expression on his face, because he’s given an apologetic smile and a calming pat on the back.
*
After showering off the oil and sweat, Hakyeon’s standing in front of his dressing table, trying to rearrange his bangs into a professionally mussed look, even if he’s only going to go back home and sleep. He accidentally knocks a tube of lip balm to the floor and is bending over to pick it up when someone pinches his ass. He whirls around, ready to deliver his mean right hook, possibly a swift kick to the groin.
It’s Wonshik, grinning like an idiot.
“What the fuck, Wonshik?”
He keeps on grinning, reaching out to tug on Hakyeon’s belt loops. “Did I startle you?”
Hakyeon grumbles, turning back to his mirror. “What do you want?”
Wonshik stares at him through their reflection, lips curled mischievously, jerking his chin in a familiar gesture. His hair is still damp from the shower, and he’s wearing his sunglasses indoors, at night. He looks ridiculous.
“You’re fucking unbelievable.”
Wonshik smirks, slow and cocksure. “Do you not wanna?”
Hakyeon doesn’t even acknowledge that with a reply. He finishes fiddling with his hair, collects his keys and wallet and walks out of the club with Wonshik trailing close behind him. They manage to hail a cab within two minutes, and Hakyeon idly gives the driver his address, slumping into the backseat. They don’t even talk during the ride over, there isn’t any need to, both swiping through their phones to catch up on what they missed while they were at work.
A cab’s backseat is rarely big enough for two sprawling tall guys like them, though, so they’re constantly brushing against each other. Hakyeon sneaks a glance at Wonshik, and he still looks ludicrous in his tank top and basketball shorts, like a horny schoolboy with his obvious hard-on tenting, and – Hakyeon really shouldn’t be so turned on by that.
He might have been staring too long, because Wonshik rolls his head against the seat to look at him, and smiles knowingly. Hakyeon really hates his boyfriend sometimes.
They’re barely inside the apartment when Wonshik tackles him in a hug, giggling into the messy kiss, noses bumping and teeth clacking. Hakyeon refuses to let him take the lead, so he kisses back with more ferocity, and leaps up to cling to Wonshik’s neck, legs wrapped around his waist. Wonshik grunts but doesn’t break the kiss, cupping Hakyeon’s butt to support him. They maneuver blindly through the hallway into the bedroom, falling together on the bed, Hakyeon whining at Wonshik squishing him.
Wonshik eases off, pecking him on the lips repeatedly before standing up to strip. Hakyeon follows suit, only much slower, laughing when Wonshik groans at his teasing, wrenching Hakyeon’s jeans off his legs impatiently. He instantly kneels between Hakyeon’s legs, latching onto his clothed dick. Hakyeon gasps, hands shooting out to knot in Wonshik’s hair, clawing at his scalp when Wonshik wets his hardness through the cotton. The boxer shorts are damp by the time Wonshik pulls it off, Hakyeon’s cock springing up against his belly, and Wonshik hums appreciatively. Hakyeon knows what to expect next, so he props himself up to watch, moaning softly as Wonshik laps at the underside, suckles the tip and swallows him down. Neither of them mind the mess, spit and precome dribbling, Wonshik alternating between sucking, stroking, and rubbing his cheek against the length. Hakyeon loves admiring Wonshik as he does this – sleepy eyes meeting his, deliberately seductive, mouth and tongue and throat worshipping and endlessly tasting, sultry and reverent at the same time.
Hakyeon pulls him off just before Wonshik starts to deepthroat him again, coaxing him up onto the bed by the back of his neck. He can tell that Wonshik hopes to suck him off again, for Hakyeon to fuck his mouth as he lay in bed writhing helplessly. So Hakyeon anticipates the desperate keening when he just grabs Wonshik’s thighs and pushes them up and back, spreading and bending, puckered hole on display. Wonshik’s whimpers escalate quickly into pleased moans when Hakyeon tongues him open, pausing only to jab inside with tapered fingers and seek the spot that renders Wonshik into a blubbering mess, kissing the soft inside of his thigh as he whines and begs.
“You’re going to tell me exactly what you want,” Hakyeon taunts, taking pleasure in watching the subtle roll of Wonshik’s hips, wantonly seeking for his dick. “Or you’re not going to get any.”
Wonshik whines, high and desperate, relenting only when Hakyeon starts pressing kisses up his thigh. “Want you inside,” Wonshik breathes, eyes clenched shut. “Now, please.”
“What do you want me to do, Wonshik-ah?” Hakyeon grins, stroking his legs, holding him open.
“Fuck me – want you to fuck me,” Wonshik pants, finally looking straight at Hakyeon, eyes dewy and pleading. His pink lips are parted, slick with spit, and his tongue darts out to lick at the bottom one.
Hakyeon hums, pleased, rubbing the head of his cock against Wonshik’s hole. “You look so pretty begging. You need to do it more.”
“Ah, hyung,” Wonshik whimpers, hand scrabbling for Hakyeon’s ass, pulling him in. “Please, now. Please, I can’t—”
“Don’t you need more prep?” Hakyeon asks quietly, although Wonshik’s already wet and loose for his tongue and fingers a moment ago.
Wonshik shakes his head, cheeks flushed crimson. “I’m – I fingered myself in the shower,” he stutters, sweat beading at his forehead. His fingers now trace lazy patterns against the flat of Hakyeon’s stomach. “I need your dick now.”
Hakyeon obliges, pushing in smoothly, stifling a moan at how wet and tight Wonshik is inside. Wonshik doesn’t hold back, always so responsive and vocal when he’s this horny, mumbling about how he’s grateful that Hakyeon’s so big and good at filling him up. Wonshik stays in position as Hakyeon bends him nearly half to get a good, fast pace going, squirming and keening when Hakyeon brushes against his prostate. They can easily come like this, but Hakyeon thinks it’ll be a waste.
He pulls out to Wonshik’s helpless moan, swatting his butt to get him to straddle him instead. “Go on and ride me, sweetheart.”
Wonshik shoots him a cold glare. “Told you not to call me that.”
“As you wish, my love,” Hakyeon smiles saccharinely, immediately regretting his snark when Wonshik sinks down in one fluid move and starts rocking rhythmically. “Fuck.”
“Yeah? You’re gonna come inside me,” Wonshik coos, eyes fluttering as he finds the perfect angle. “I’m going to milk you dry like this.”
Hakyeon groans, snapping his groin up and grinning at Wonshik’s startled sob. “How’s that, pretty baby? C’mon and come, honeybun. Beauty before brains and all that.”
Wonshik chuckles softly, breathless from meeting Hakyeon’s thrusts. “Do you mean beauty before age—oh!”
Hakyeon loves how Wonshik’s whole body trembles when he’s coming, prick twitching as he shoots ropes and ropes of thick jizz all over himself and Hakyeon. It’s worth it to topple right after, fucking through the high, spilling everywhere from how tight Wonshik gets.
“God, you’re the best,” Hakyeon sighs thoughtlessly when it’s over, buzzing from the orgasm.
Wonshik nibbles at his nipple and laughs throatily, deep voice muffled against his chest. “I know.”
Hakyeon shoves him off, satisfied at the undignified squawk it earns him, but letting Wonshik spoon him later, after they’re done bickering over who needs to get up and grab the washcloth to clean up (Hakyeon ends up doing it, because Wonshik is still technically a guest in his house and his mother raised a gentleman).
“You’re buying breakfast tomorrow,” Hakyeon says, tapping the back of Wonshik’s hand.
Wonshik makes an indignant noise. “Used for my body and my money.”
Hakyeon doesn’t point out that he’s the one who initiated all this. “Shut up and go to sleep. I need my beauty rest.”
“How much prettier do you want to be?”
Hakyeon smiles but doesn’t respond, letting the rise and fall of Wonshik’s chest lull him into slumber.
*
Wonshik wakes up slowly, the bone-deep satisfaction singing through him before his other senses become aware of his surroundings. His eyes catch sight of Hakyeon’s frilly white canopy, his nose catches the scent of freshly brewed coffee, and his boyfriend’s fingers are in his hair, stroking him like a cat. Wonshik yawns, stretches, and rolls to his side.
Hakyeon’s sitting in bed reading, glasses on as he continues petting Wonshik, and he looks so fucking enticing Wonshik’s almost drooling. “Come on and get up. We have a meeting about setting up an act for that Sanghyuk kid.”
Wonshik whines, throaty and feral, but Hakyeon doesn’t look away from his book. “Hyung.”
“What?” Hakyeon hums, flipping a page. Wonshik’s almost certain he’s doing it on purpose. He flicks his bangs off his eyes and inadvertently sees Wonshik, sheets clearly distorted by his morning wood. Warm laughter escapes him, and he flicks Wonshik’s forehead playfully. “Are you kidding me?”
Wonshik puts on his best pout, nuzzling Hakyeon’s bare stomach for added effect. “Hyung.”
“We’re gonna be late, Wonshik-ah,” Hakyeon reasons, ruffling his hair. He sighs when Wonshik starts kissing around his navel. “What do you want?” he laughs indulgently, tugging lightly on one ear.
Wonshik looks up, making smooching movements with his mouth. Hakyeon rolls his eyes, but the dazzling smile doesn’t leave his face. He kisses Wonshik once, slow and deep, then pulls the sheets off to get to his cock. Wonshik leans back and breathes out a moan as Hakyeon wraps his lips around the tip and takes him in inch by inch.
“I have to make it quick,” Hakyeon says, pulling off to fist at the length, jerking him off.
“Hyung, I don’t think you can—ungh-”
Wonshik loves battling Hakyeon simply because he’s fucking fierce and competitive, but also because they both always win, in the end.