Chapter Text
The transition to the new dorm for Enhypen was supposed to be a temporary logistical shuffle, a brief period of shared space before the management finalized their permanent individual rooms. The layout of the new unit was tight, and the furniture was functional rather than luxurious. For Sunghoon and Sunoo, this meant a return to a dynamic they hadn't experienced in years: sharing a bunk bed.
"I'll take the bottom," Sunoo had stated firmly as they hauled their suitcases into the narrow room. He didn't even wait for Sunghoon to argue.
Sunghoon, standing by the window with his arms crossed over his chest, simply shrugged. "Why so eager for the bottom bunk? Usually, people want the top for the privacy."
"Because I'm a restless sleeper," Sunoo lied smoothly, flashing a dimpled smile. He didn't want to admit that he planned on sneaking out to Heeseung’s or Jake’s room for late-night snacks and movie marathons. "If I'm on top, the ladder will creak every time I move, and you’re a light sleeper. I don't want you getting annoyed with me."
Sunghoon looked at the wooden frame of the bed, his gaze lingering on the sturdy slats of the upper bunk for a second too long. "Fair enough. Bottom is yours."
The deal was struck: Sunghoon on top, Sunoo on the bottom.
A week into the arrangement, the routine was set. Sunoo was pushing himself harder than usual for an upcoming performance, often staying behind in the practice room for hours after the others had collapsed into their beds.
It was nearly 1:30 AM when Sunoo finally dragged himself back into the dorm. The living area was silent, the air heavy with the quiet breathing of his members. He moved like a shadow, slipping into the bathroom for a quick shower and an abbreviated version of his ten-step skincare routine. His muscles were humming with fatigue, his mind a hazy blur of choreography and exhaustion.
He crept into their shared room, barely making a sound. The room was dark, save for the thin sliver of moonlight filtering through the blinds. Sunoo sighed in relief, seeing the silhouette of the bunk bed. He crawled into the bottom bunk, sliding onto his back and staring up at the ceiling or rather, the underside of Sunghoon’s mattress.
He was about to close his eyes when something caught the light.
Directly above his chest, hanging through a gap between the wooden slats, was an object. Sunoo blinked, his vision adjusting. It was long, dark, and impossibly thick. It hung straight down, perfectly still in the quiet air.
What the hell? Sunoo thought, his brow furrowing. Is that... a dildo?
He felt a flush of confusion. Why would Sunghoon have a toy like that? And more importantly, how did it hang through the bed? It looked massive, girthy and rock hard, its silhouette intimidatingly large in the dim light.
Sunoo shifted his weight, trying to get a better angle to see if it was attached to something. The bed frame let out a sharp, metallic creak.
Immediately, the "object" reacted.
It didn't just swing; it flinched. The dark length twitched, pulsing visibly as it grew even more turgid. Sunoo’s heart did a violent somersault in his chest. He realized with a jolt of pure electricity that this wasn't silicone or plastic. He could see the faint, rhythmic throb of a vein. He could see the way the tip was slightly flared and heavy.
This was no toy. This was Sunghoon’s dick, poking straight through a hole that shouldn't have been there.
Sunoo’s breath hitched, the sound loud in the silent room. He lay perfectly still, his eyes wide and glued to the sight. It was right there, hanging just inches above his face, a raw and pulsing reality that shattered any thought of sleep.
Sunoo’s heart was drumming a frantic rhythm against his ribs, the sound so loud in his ears he was sure it would wake the entire dorm. He stayed frozen, his back pressed into the mattress, eyes wide as they strained to make sense of the sight.
The moonlight caught the edge of the gap in the wood,a clean, circular hole that definitely hadn't been there when they moved in. Through it, the "object" hung like a heavy, living pendulum. Up close, the detail was terrifying. It wasn't just long; it was impossibly girthy, the skin stretched so tight over the pulsing muscle that it looked like polished marble.
It’s not a dildo, Sunoo’s mind screamed. It’s him.
As if to confirm his realization, the bed creaked again as Sunoo shifted his legs. The response was instantaneous. The dick flinched, a violent, rhythmic twitch that sent a shiver through the entire bed frame. It wasn't just hanging anymore; it was reacting, the head swelling and darkening as it hardened to its absolute limit. It looked like it was the size of Sunoo's entire forearm, a dark-veined beast that seemed to have a life of its own.
Sunoo found himself leaning upward, his neck straining as he moved his face closer to the hanging length. He was so close now that he could feel the radiating heat coming off the skin. It smelled of Sunghoon’s body wash,that cool, crisp scent but underneath it was something deeper, a raw, musty musk that made Sunoo’s mouth go dry.
Suddenly, another flinch. This time, the dick jumped downward, the blunt, flared head brushing squarely against Sunoo’s bottom lip.
Sunoo gasped, the contact feeling like an electric shock. He felt a drop of something wet and viscous smear across his mouth. It was heavy, slick precum, leaking from the slit and glistening in the dim light. Without thinking, his tongue darted out, instinctively licking the drop away.
It was salty, rich, and strangely addictive.
Sunoo’s head spun. Does he know? he wondered frantically. Have the hole always been there? or did he carve this hole on purpose? Unable to contain his confusion, Sunoo quietly slipped out of his covers. He stood up, his knees trembling as he peered over the edge of the top bunk. Sunghoon was lying face-down, his head buried in the crook of his arm, the blankets pulled up to his waist. He looked "dead asleep," his breathing deep and steady, his features as calm and handsome as a prince in a fairy tale.
Sunoo stared at him for a long minute. From this angle, Sunghoon looked completely innocent, as if he had no idea his lower half was currently protruding into the bunk below. But as Sunoo looked back down at the hole, he saw the dick twitch again, sensing the movement in the room.
Sunoo climbed back into his own bed, his skin humming with a sudden, sharp arousal he couldn't explain. He lay back down, his face mere inches from the hanging, leaking monster.
He didn't know much about dicks as he didn't have one, and they were usually just a vague concept to him. He wondered if they were always this hard, or if Sunghoon was trapped in a permanent wet dream. He reached his hand out, his fingers hovering just a hair’s breadth away from the throbbing skin.
He wanted to touch it. He wanted to see if it felt as powerful as it looked.
Sunoo’s breath hitched, the sound swallowed by the heavy silence of the room. He remained perfectly still, suspended in a state of disbelief and dawning fascination. The hole in the wood was too clean, too deliberate to be an accident of construction. Sunghoon had made this, a portal between their worlds.
As Sunoo hovered there, his face so close he could feel the radiating warmth of Sunghoon's skin, the dick flinched again. It wasn't a random twitch; it was a rhythmic, intentional pulse, as if Sunghoon were flexed and hardening it in response to the heat of Sunoo's breath. The heavy, dark-veined length swayed slightly, and the blunt, flared head brushed squarely against Sunoo’s parting lips.
A thick, viscous smear of precum landed on his lower lip.
Sunoo’s heart did a violent somersault. He didn't pull away. Instead, his tongue darted out, tentatively licking the drop away. It was salty, rich, and carried the intense, musky flavor of Sunghoon himself. To Sunoo's surprise, it didn't just taste "okay" ,it tasted good. It was a forbidden flavor that sent a jolt of heat straight to his core.
Does he know I’m doing this? Sunoo wondered, his mind racing. Is he waiting for me to react?
Driven by a need to see the "Master" of this display, Sunoo quietly slipped out from under his covers. The bed frame let out a soft, metallic groan as he stood on his tiptoes, peering over the edge of the top bunk.
Sunghoon was a vision of tranquility. He was lying face-down, his dark hair messy against the pillow, his face turned to the side. The blankets were bunched around his waist, leaving the broad, pale expanse of his back exposed. He looked "dead asleep," his breathing slow and rhythmic, his features as composed as a marble statue.
To anyone else, he looked like a prince lost in a deep, dreamless slumber. But Sunoo looked back down at the gap between the slats. From this angle, he could see where Sunghoon’s hips were positioned directly over the hole. The dick was still there, hanging into the darkness of the bottom bunk, twitching with a life of its own every time Sunoo’s shadow moved.
Sunoo climbed back into his bed, his skin humming. He lay back down on his pillow, facing upward. The 11-inch beast was right there, a heavy, weeping shadow in the moonlight. He realized that whether Sunghoon was "awake" or not, he was presenting himself.
Sunoo reached his hand up, his fingers trembling as they hovered just an inch away from the throbbing skin. He’d never seen a dick this close, let alone one that looked like it was carved from solid muscle. He wondered if dicks were supposed to stay this rock-hard for hours, or if Sunghoon was trapped in a fantasy he was currently living out through the floorboards.
Sunoo lay back down, but sleep was a lost cause. His eyes were wide, fixed on the heavy, dark silhouette that dominated the small space between the bunks. He leaned in again, his nose nearly touching the pulsing skin.
A wave of scent hit him, a heavy, musty dick smell. It was raw and masculine, a concentrated aroma of sweat, salt, and pheromones that had been brewing under the blankets. By all accounts, Sunoo should have found it repulsive, but his body betrayed him. Instead of pulling back, he inhaled deeply. The scent was intoxicating, a primal trigger that made a sharp, sudden heat pool in his own lower belly.
Is it always like this? he wondered, his heart hammering. Is he having a wet dream, or is his body just… waiting?
He couldn't help himself. He reached out, his fingers finally making contact with the skin. He gasped. It was scorching hot, vibrating with the force of the blood pumping through it. He slid his palm along the length, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. It was huge. From the base at the wood slats to the weeping tip, it was easily the size of Sunoo’s entire forearm.
Curiosity turned into a desperate need to know the scale of it. Sunoo raised his second hand, bringing both palms together. He tried to wrap them around the center of the shaft, but his fingers barely met on the other side. It took two of his hands just to fully encompass the staggering girth.
The moment his skin closed around the heat, the dick gave a violent, powerful jump. It throbbed against his palms, the flared head weeping even more precum that trickled down over Sunoo’s knuckles. Sunoo felt a thrill of terror and excitement. It felt like holding a living, breathing creature, one that was trapped in the bed frame, waiting for him to do something with it.
He looked up at the slats, seeing the way the wood slightly groaned under Sunghoon’s weight. Sunghoon was still "sleeping," but down here, in the dark, Sunoo was holding the Ice Prince's most guarded secret in both hands. It was too big, too hard, and far too tempting to let go.
Sunoo’s breath came in shallow, jagged hitches as he felt the sheer power of the organ in his hands. It was like holding a live wire electric, humming, and dangerous. He’d never done this before, but his body seemed to know the motion. He tightened his grip, his small hands barely meeting around the thick, pulsing trunk of it, and began to slide them upward.
The skin was like silk over iron. As he pulled his hands toward the tip, the dick flinched violently, the base slamming against the wooden hole with a muffled thud. Above him, Sunghoon let out a low, barely audible groan in his "sleep," but he didn't wake. He stayed perfectly still, his body offering itself up for Sunoo’s curiosity.
Sunoo took another stroke, then another. He was mesmerized by the way the veins bulged under his palms and the way the head grew even darker, purple and engorged, until it looked like it was about to burst. He pumped faster, his rhythm clumsy but determined, fascinated by the heavy, wet sound of his palms sliding over the slick coating of precum.
Suddenly, the dick gave a massive, final shudder.
Sunoo didn't even have time to blink before the 11-inch beast erupted. It wasn't a trickle; it was a violent, pressurized splurt of white liquid. The first jet hit Sunoo square in the face, hot and thick, splashing across his cheek and over his startled, parted lips. The sheer volume was staggering, it kept coming, pulse after pulse, a massive amount of cum that drenched Sunoo’s hands and soaked into the front of his fresh pajamas.
Sunoo gasped, the sudden warmth dripping down his chin and wetting his collar. Some of it landed in his mouth, and he instinctively swallowed. It was heavy and bittersweet, the taste of Sunghoon’s release filling his senses.
He froze, his hands still loosely wrapped around the now-throbbing, sensitive length as it began its slow, twitching comedown. He looked up at the top bunk, terrified that the sheer force of the climax would have woken Sunghoon. But Sunghoon was still "sleeping" handsomely, his face turned away, his breathing deep and undisturbed as if he hadn't just flooded the bottom bunk with his essence.
Sunoo’s heart was racing as he looked at the mess. His skin was sticky, his new clothes ruined, and the scent of fresh cum was overwhelming in the cramped space. He felt a surge of frustration, he was the one left to clean up the evidence while the "Ice Prince" rested in peace.
He climbed out of bed, his legs shaking, and grabbed a fresh set of clothes. He crept to the bathroom to wash the white streaks off his face, the taste of Sunghoon still lingering on his tongue. When he returned, he wiped down the remaining spills on his sheets and lay back down, staring at the now-limper but still substantial length hanging through the wood.
He eventually fell into a restless sleep, the ghost of Sunghoon’s heat still warming his palms.
Sunoo woke up to the soft light of morning and the distant sound of the dorm’s coffee machine. He sat up abruptly, his eyes immediately darting to the underside of the top bunk.
The hole was there, a clean, circular void in the wood but the 11-inch beast was gone. There was no trace of the heavy, pulsing length that had dominated his night, nor any lingering scent of the "musty musk" that had driven him to distraction. It was as if the night had been a fever dream, except for the faint, lingering tightness in Sunoo's chest.
He dressed quickly, his heart hammering as he headed toward the kitchen. He didn't know what to expect. Would Sunghoon be blushing? Would he look tired? Or worse, would he be angry?
When Sunoo rounded the corner, he stopped dead.
The manager was there, leaning against the counter and checking his tablet. Jay and Jungwon were bickering over a toaster. And right there, sitting at the small breakfast table, was Sunghoon.
He was the picture of "Ice Prince" perfection. He was dressed in a crisp, clean shirt, his hair perfectly swept back, looking refreshed and dangerously handsome. He was calmly sipping from a mug of black coffee, his eyes fixed on his phone.
Sunoo felt a wave of heat wash over his face. He stood there for a beat too long, paralyzed by the sight of Sunghoon’s calm hands, the same ones Sunoo had imagined gripping the bed slats while he milked him just hours before.
"Morning, Sunoo," the manager said without looking up.
"Morning," Sunoo squeaked, his voice a pitch higher than usual. He forced himself to walk to the fridge, keeping his head down, pretending to be deeply interested in a carton of orange juice.
"Morning, Sunoo-ya," a calm, steady voice said.
Sunoo’s grip tightened on the carton. He looked up, meeting Sunghoon’s gaze. Sunghoon wasn't looking away. He wasn't awkward. He wasn't even smirking. He looked at Sunoo with a neutral, friendly expression, his eyes clear and steady.
"You look tired," Sunghoon noted, taking another sip of coffee. "Did the bed creak too much last night?"
Sunoo’s brain short-circuited. Did he just say that? "I... no. I just stayed up a bit late. Practicing," Sunoo stammered.
"Well, we have a long schedule today. Make sure you drink some water," Sunghoon said, his tone perfectly elder-brotherly. He turned his attention back to his phone as if Sunoo hadn't spent the night with his face inches from his leaking cock.
The entire day followed that same maddening pattern. During rehearsals, Sunghoon was professional and sharp. During lunch, he shared his food with Sunoo as he always did. There was no secret smile, no lingering touch, no sign whatsoever that he realized his dick had been poking through a hole and erupting all over Sunoo’s face.
By the time they returned to the dorm after the schedule, Sunoo was exhausted and frustrated. He had spent the whole day looking for a crack in the armor, but Sunghoon was a fortress.
Maybe he really doesn't know, Sunoo thought as he watched Sunghoon head into the shower first. Maybe he’s just... a very heavy sleeper.
But as the bathroom door clicked shut, Sunoo looked at the bunk bed in the corner of their room. The hole was waiting. And despite himself, Sunoo felt the familiar, sharp pull of curiosity and hunger starting to ache in his throat again….