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Christopher could label himself with an abundance of titles.
He was a talented lyricist.
He was a neat freak.
He was an attentive and empathetic leader, among other things.
He could write essays on his attributes and still have outside sources write several pages more after that, but Chris would, and had, never considered himself a good person. He had long since stopped going through moral dilemmas about what makes or breaks someone’s character. He was perfectly content with who he was, the good, the bad, the insane. He surprised himself daily, prided himself on how well he could maintain a spotless public image while still harboring such a sick mind. Perhaps it was simply because his darker urges had nothing to do with his fans at all, but instead his beloved members whom he had hand-picked and then watched age into what they had become today. Chris was softer on them now, a brother or a father figure that could guide them through the hardships of being a K-idol.
To be honest, it was like he raised them himself.
He knew them like the back of his eyelids, better than they knew themselves most days. He felt a form of responsibility over them, an ownership that he felt he had more than earned. It went past desire to protect them, it was possession in its dirtiest of forms.
They belonged to him.
So Seungmin’s words had surprised him. As well as he knew his precious puppy, he had never known he had been harboring such a heavy weight, about him of all people. Chris liked to think he had given each of them more than enough individual attention, catered to everyone’s specific needs the way they needed…but clearly some things bled through the cracks. There was still a level of attention Seungminnie was craving, begging silently for. The problem wasn’t that though. Chris could fix anything his members deemed broken, it was the fact that he could hardly focus on such a serious conversation when his pup was so damn pretty when he cried. Those pouty lips, quivering in an useless attempt to fight against how they were downturning. His little nose was such a perfect shade of pink, runny and wet much like his eyes that couldn’t stop the flow of fat tears down his cheeks. His doll lashes were clumping up, framing those big eyes of his in such an endearing way. And Christopher, yeah…he was eating it up.
At the sound of the first sniffle, the leader had dropped to his knees beside the boy, beckoned tissues over from the staff. He was being so caring, so sweet as he comforted one of his younger members, playing the role of the perfect hyung as if he wasn’t stiffening against the seam of his jeans at the fact that he was the one making the boy cry. Like he didn’t want to make him cry like this more often. Like he wouldn’t sell his soul to make Seungmin cry until he was sick from it, chest heaving sobs until he was a hiccupping mess. Chris would love nothing more than to rip him apart at the seams, admire the carnage, and then hand stitch him back together. what was the point of a doll if it wasn’t used? the toys that were loved the most had wear and tear to prove it. porcelain should be tarnished, fine china should have gold encrusted where it was broken.
christopher wanted him broken.
Pretty boys like Seungmin were almost begging to be hurt, used, loved.
After the episode of ‘Two kids, One room’, Christopher made it his mission to get Seungmin to room with him under the reasoning that after such a heavy conversation, they deserved a bit of healthy time together. The pup was easy to sway, too fuzzy headed from crying, too worn out to argue about how all his things were currently in Changbin’s room. So after a well needed dinner that consisted of leftovers and a fresh serving of veggies, Seungmin was tucked into the left side of Chris’ bed, wearing one of the leader's t-shirts and a pair of ash grey briefs. They didn’t even get to talk much before the boy’s tummy full of food started to weigh down his still-puffy eyelids. In the back of his mind, Chris knew the real reason he had wanted the boy here, but still for some reason he felt like he had won a prize with Seungmin curled up next to him.
Helpless.
Unaware.
He flicked off the TV, dousing them in complete silence save for the puppy’s soft and even breathing. There’s a saying about how people normally fall asleep quicker around people they trust. The sentiment warmed Chris’ heart, but it also brought that familiar tightness in his abdomen. His body was saddling up behind Seungmin before he knew it, a hand moving on auto to rest on one of the boy’s milky thighs. He was lying more on his stomach, one pretty leg hiked up. At some point he had kicked out of the blanket so Chan got the perfect view of his little balls bulging against the soft fabric of his briefs in the low reading light, his roughened finger now running along the boy’s inner thigh just to watch him twitch in his sleep.
“So responsive, minnie.”
Christopher’s voice vibrates foreignly in his own ears as he pressed his bigger body against his dongsang, the hand on the boy’s thigh starting to knead and grope at the flesh until he was hooking a finger into the waistband of those damned grey briefs and pulling them down carefully. He pulled until Seungmin’s pretty ass was on display, that perfect bubble butt sitting right above where Chan bunched up the fabric. The older man hissed, his fingers twitching as he palmed his member’s perfect ass. He had seen it plenty of times— they shared a dorm together, they grew up together, they had countless showers with the boys— but this felt just for him.
Finally.
He hooked his thumb between his cheeks, pulling the globes apart until he could see that perfect, pink rim greeting him. Seungmin must have felt the cool air if the way his hole was winking at Bangchan was any tell. The boy probably had no clue how pretty he was with his rosy little asscheeks, his untouched hole, and the soft dimples at the bottom of his spine. Chris rolled him fully onto his stomach, the man now climbing over him, straddling the back of his legs to pin him in place. He knew well enough that the boy would wake up from what he did next, he was far from caring. Seungmin needed him— needed this. Chris was helping him the way a good leader should, at least that’s what he kept telling himself as he freed his thick, aching cock. It was tan, blushed at the tip, and throbbing for his dongsang. Big hands spread open the pup’s cheeks again, bared that virgin hole like a trophy before spitting on it. He rutted against the slick, bit his lip at the unconscious whine Seungmin let out.
Taking a breath, Chris finally took a hold of his shaft, lining his tip up with the hole that was far too tiny for him, too unprepped. Bright pink met mauve as the leader pushed in with a slow roll of his heavy hips, opening the boy, splitting him, molding him imperfectly. The deeper he sunk in, the more Seungmin started to stir, and by the time the puppy was fully starting to come to, it was too late. Chris had already locked his strong arms under the boy, pinning him. The leader’s thick legs were keeping the boy’s own legs spread wide, keeping his now tightening hole on display. He was clenching, squirming, trying to reject the intrusion and wake up at the same time.
“H-hyungie—- hyung wha—,” the pup was choking out the title against the plush of the pillow below him, his hand weakly trying to find purchase on the bed.
Chris simply started to kiss down his neck, helping his baby relax. It would start to feel good soon, Seungmin was clearly made to take him.
“Shhh..Hyung just wants to make you feel good, don’t you want that?”
“No! Hyung please..it hurts.”
Chan ignores him but his cock does throb at how watery his voice already sounds. He draws his hips back, slamming them back down, forcing his way back into the boy with a satisfied sigh. He could feel Seungmin’s legs kicking, could feel his fingers clawing at his biceps. It all felt like white noise, pretty, pathetic white noise. The leader sat up on his knees, bringing the pup’s hips with him. The boy’s tears were already glistening down his cheeks, Chris saw the wetness right before he buried his face in the pillows.
“You feel so good around me, pup. Did you save this tiny lil’ pussy for your hyung?”
Seungmin was shaking his head, begging for it all to end. Clearly he was ungrateful, just for now, but Chris was sure he’d understand in the end. He drew his hips back, pulling his cock out until his tip was kissing the reddened and raw rim. Chris watched in awe as the boy’s cunt blew kisses at him, begging for more abuse just like the puppy needed. The leader slammed back in, banging the headboard against the wall and sending Minnie flying forward. Strong hands gripped at his frail hips, yanking him back, fucking into him like a pure toy.
“Don’t run from Hyungie, Min, be good.”
The boy was finally crying again, those pretty little sobs that made Chris so fucking hard. He fucked him nice and sweet just to keep hearing them, admiring the way his sniffles were starting to mix in with the wet suction sound of his boy hole on Chris’ cock.
“Get off me, I said it h-hurts hyung— I don’t want to—,” he was whining like a spoiled brat, making Chris sigh and cover his mouth with one hand. His other reached between the boy's trembling thighs to grab for his useless little dick. He was half hard despite his protests, a little pre wetting his tip. Christopher stroked him and fucked him in time, drawing new whimpers from him.
“I know what you need, just relax, yeah? Let me use this pretty pussy…You know I love you.”
His puppy was so sensitive, twitching in his hand. Seungmin wasn’t sure where to run, trying to escape his rough hand and his brutal cock at the same time. To Chris, it felt like the boy was trying to fuck back on him, his soft whimpers not helping his case. He could feel the thickness in his throat, his insides being churned just for his Hyung. It still hurt, horribly, but something else was bubbling up. It was that horrid part of him that liked being roughed up by his members, normally Changbinnie. He would have never expected this, and definitely not from his overworked leader. Seungmin was begging against the man’s palm, but he was so dizzy and sleepy that he stopped knowing what he was begging for. There was a building in his gut, his stomach hurt from it along with the steady jab of Chris’ cockhead against something deep in him. Fuck it felt…
He hated himself for being weak, for not fighting more. But he also hated the way his own dick was leaking onto the bed below him as his ‘pussy’ was fucked open like it was nothing but a claim to stake.
“Be a good boy, princess. Don’t you wanna’ cum for me? Come on,” the stroking got faster, his tight fist stroking Seungmin’s sensitive tip over and over until the boy’s eyes were rolling back. Chris could feel him drooling, could tell when all the fight finally left him. His precious dongsang was going to cum for him and him alone. Seungmin’s eyes were red rimmed and wet, his throat was sore from the pleading and the whining. Chris could feel his own orgasm coming so he angled his hips to drill into his prostate that much more.
Seungmin came with a broken and muffled shout, his vision whiting as he crumpled in Chris’ hold. The leader didn’t stop, he fucked him into overstimulation until his thick cock spilled hot cum into the pup’s used hole. His groan vibrated against the room as he finally released the boy’s mouth, focusing on rutting his seed deeper and deeper like a feral dog.
Christopher wasn’t a good person, and as Seungmin lay there twitching and sore, he finally was aware of this fact too.
________
The next morning Seungmin was up earlier than he had ever been in awhile, not that he had slept much at all. His rest was fruitless, jam-packed with tossing and turning galore. He eventually ended up sliding out of bed, peeling himself out of his hyung’s arms at a sloth’s pace in hopes to not disturb him. His first stop had been the shower, he hadn’t even bothered to turn on the lights. He sat there on the shower floor, allowing the scalding hot water to bathe over his skin. He washed after the water started to cool, and though he did most of this while zoning out, he vividly remembered the excess cum that spilled from his used hole.
He ended up in the kitchen next, dressed in another borrowed hoodie (Jisung’s maybe) and a clean pair of briefs. He felt clean, smelled clean too— Chris’ phantom touches were still dirtying him, still there. He wasn’t sure they would ever leave.
He busied himself with the coffee machine, fiddling with it in the low light of the sun trying its best to rise. He was dazed, but at least he still had the capacity to admire how pretty the floor to ceiling windows were in the early morning. He had never really seen the view before. Too bad it was clouded by his thoughts racing a mile a minute, trying so hard to decipher and analyze if he had dreamt the whole thing last night. Bangchan would never— he’d never hurt the boys intentionally. He wasn’t that type of guy for as long as they had all known each other, and that had been a long fucking time. But the soreness between his cheeks was there, the rawness of his hole…the exhaustedness of his muscles. His stomach was churning because no matter how much he tried to brush it off as delusion, he can’t deny the hickeys on his pale skin.
He flinched as the machine clicked, lighting up for him to start the pot of coffee. He did so absently, not even wanting the caffeine but instead something to focus on, a reason to be in the kitchen where it was starting to feel sickly safe.
Time passed but nothing changed, something Seungminnie was hoping to be a one-off became an ongoing routine. He may not go to bed with Chris, but he’d surely wake up tangled with him. Sometimes it was just cuddling, the leader’s heavy body keeping him warm while big hands soothed over whatever part of the younger he could reach. Other times it was a fist around his cock, tugging him until he messed up his clothes— or worse— until he was writhing from overstimulation. More often than not, it was Seungmin waking up to his hole being split open, a icky slosh of wetness in his ears and tears in his eyes. He’d beg and plead all the same, and just like the very first time, Chris didn’t seem to care. The dongsang was realizing now that it might be his tears and unwillingness that got the man off in the first place.
Months went by, and now they were at the tailend of their newest album’s promotions. Everyone was beyond tired, worn, and they decided to start their regular movie nights back up. It was a piece of normalcy that Seungmin hadn’t realized he missed. Being close, brotherly, carefree. Felix had picked something lighthearted that he didn’t catch the name of because it was an American film. The living room became nothing short of a family nest, blankets and pillows strewn everywhere, snacks speckling the space like stars, members pairing off to cuddle and giggle amongst themselves.
Seungmin had chosen his normal spot, a corner of the L-shaped couch that allowed him to burrow into the cushion like a small animal. He looked so cute in his government assigned Skzoo snuggie and a blanket thrown over him. His small sense of comfort started to crack when Chris made his way over to share the couch with him, crumbled when the man changed their positions to lay behind him, to share the blanket. Naturally, no one batted an eye. The group had been touchy-feely since forever, but the pup knew too much now to think of these actions as innocent skinship. Nothing was innocent about the way the leader kept adjusting until his semi was pressed just-so between the crease of Seungmin’s ass, or how his arm curled around the younger’s waist under the fluffy privacy of the blanket in pure claim. The puppy had stiffened, his breath shallowing. Chris had up until this point been keeping their relations secluded, shielded from the others like a dirty family secret. The idea of any of the boys finding out their leader liked to touch him…grope him.. fuck him; it would send the boy into an immediate death-by-embarrasment. Even now, he was hot behind the ears, probably redding in the face.
“Breathe, pup..,” and like he had been rebooted, Seungmin swallowed a large gulp of air. He hadn’t realized he actually stopped breathing, too focused on what was transpiring behind him.
The boys were all focused on the movie, or too engrossed in their phones to even have the heart to notice what was happening back on the couch. Bangchan knew he had the upper hand simply because he knew his boys well. It was why he showed no signs of shame as he slipped a large palm into the waistband of Seungmin’s shorts. The younger wished more than anything that his body would stop reacting so easily, his poor cock twitched in nothing short of interest as Chris fisted it. His hyung tugged at his soft length until it grew stiff, grinded his larger cock against Seungmin’s ass until he was spilling pre into the leader’s hand.
He didn’t dare make a sound, his teeth sinking into the base of his cheek. He was squirming just so, his body unsure if it wanted to get away or give in. Which would be easier…? With the glide of his pre, Chris’ hand felt good, too good, and Seungmin had always been a sensitive boy. If they weren’t surrounded by their members, he’d be tempted to beg his hyung to leave him be just this once.
“That feel good, pup? You’re practically fucking my fist all by yourself,” he was whispering it, but to Seungmin it felt like Chris’ voice was booming in his ear.
He shook his head, burying it away in the covers and the plush of the pillow. He could already feel that dumb coil of pleasure building in the base of his gut. The moment he got right on the brink, just seconds away from spilling his seed for the leader, the hand disappeared.
The dongsang screwed his eyes shut so tight his head started to ache, but it was better than whimpering aloud. There was more shifting behind him before his shorts were tugged down around his thighs. He flinched, reflexively reaching back in fear. No way was he going to do that right here! They were surrounded by their bandmates, there had to be a line drawn somewhere. Christopher wasn’t phased by the silent protest, or the way his pup was clawing at his arm and wrist to stop him. He continued on despite it, running the head of his now freed dick along the younger’s hole.
“Be good and I’ll get it wet for you, love. Or…,” Chris nudged him with his blunt tip in warning, “you can take it like this. You’re good at that.”
No, he wasn’t good at it. He had no choice. Seungmin was starting to believe the leader didn’t know the difference. He let his hand fall limp, curling it into the fabric of his hyung’s shirt instead. Here he was, once again, relenting, letting it happen. His bottom lip trembled, another sharp flinch racking him as Chris’ spit slick fingers circled his hole. One breached and then two, and that was enough to bring the tears forward. His eyes fluttered as his hyung fingered him open, and he found himself grateful for small reprieves. There was a lump forming in the base of his throat, no doubt his body wanting to release a broken sob but he held it in. His hips rocked back on their own, chasing that feeling Chris was training him to crave. His body was more obedient than his mind.
Finally the fingers were removed and for a moment Seungmin was stuck in a horrid limbo of being relieved but also deprived. He felt empty, desperate against his will. He wasn’t left hanging for long before Christopher replaced his fingers with his cock. No matter how many times he took it, the stretch was evil, he could feel his body making room, molding to be perfect for his hyung. The pup’s fist wrung at the older’s shirt, tighter, pleading. The smallest of broken whines left him as his leader pressed forward just an inch.
“Hyungie..please I can’t—,” he begged in a wrecked whisper, wanting to run from the stretch so badly, wanting to stop this before they got caught for real.
Seungmin’s teeth sank into his knuckle as Chris slid in another inch, slow enough that his body could do nothing but yield. He wanted to thrash, to shove his leader away, but the blanket pinned him down, and every tiny sound from the others in the room reminded him that any sudden movement could expose them.
Chris knew it, too. That was why he moved with unhurried certainty, rolling his hips in shallow thrusts until the pup’s rim finally gave and welcomed him inside.
Seungmin’s eyes watered. He couldn’t stop the next strangled whine that threatened either, so he buried his face deeper into the couch cushion. Every shift of Chris’ cock dragged heat across his nerves, and though shame burned hotter than anything, his body betrayed him, twitching around the intrusion, already clenching like it needed more.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” Chris murmured against his ear, his voice so low it vibrated along Seungmin’s spine. “Even when you’re trying to fight me. Especially then.”
The words made him crumble. His hips rocked back before he could stop them, a desperate little grind that shoved him down onto Chris’ length. He froze instantly after, mortified, but the damage was done, the leader caught it, rewarded it with a sharper thrust.
The couch creaked, barely audible beneath the movie’s soundtrack. Seungmin’s stomach dropped. They’d notice, they had to notice…
But nobody turned. Nobody said a word.
Chris smirked against his shoulder, hand snaking around to cup his cock again. “That’s it, pup. You’re doing so well… all quiet for me, even while I fuck you in front of them.”
The words were like a stinging slap in the face. Seungmin didn’t want this, he didn’t! But, he was being good, he was laying there and taking it. He was pathetic. What would the others think if they found out that Seungmin spent too much of his time taking on the role of a fleshlight for their beloved leader. He could cry for help, beg the others to rip Chris off of him, but then they’d see his hard cock leaking pre onto the couch. They’d see how perfectly Chan’s cock shaped his hole…his cunt as the leader called it sometimes. He could feel the tears running down his cheeks now.
Chris bottomed out with a slow grind that had Seungmin’s toes curling in the cocoon of the blanket. He felt full, stretched, too hot all at once, and yet his body pulsed with a need that shamed him more than anything else. Every careful roll of Chris’ hips sent sparks licking up his spine, while the hand around his cock stroked with lazy precision, milking him inch by inch.
He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. The movie was still playing, the boys were still chatting in low voices, one of them even laughing amongst each other. And here he was, trembling under the blanket, being taken apart in silence.
Chris’ lips brushed the shell of his ear. “So good for me. No one even knows, pup. Just me and you. Just my cock in you while they sit a few feet away.”
Seungmin’s body betrayed him again, clenching down tight, his hips jerking helplessly into Chris’ fist. He tried to muffle the gasp that broke free, burying it into the couch cushion, but Chris only chuckled low in his throat and rutted a little harder.
The rhythm built dangerously, slow thrusts turning sharper, deeper. His vision blurred with tears. His chest heaved with the effort to stay quiet, and when Chris twisted his wrist just right, thumb swiping his slit, the dam broke. Seungmin came hot into his hyung’s hand, his entire body shuddering as he clamped tight around the cock drilling into him with a vengeance.
Chris swallowed the sound of his release with a palm pressed firm over his mouth, grinding in deep and spilling inside him moments later. He could feel the leader's balls twitching, emptying rope after rope of hot cum into his awaiting hole.
The blanket hid everything like a veil and by the time the others glanced back toward the couch, all they saw was their leader curled up behind Seungmin, both of them tucked in snug like they’d simply drifted off during the movie. Like Chris’ cock wasn’t being warmed inside of him, plugging his cum inside. Only Seungmin knew the truth, knew that his heart was still racing, that his hole ached and leaked, that he’d just been used and filled in plain sight. And that no one would ever know because that’s how Bangchan liked it.
The credits were rolling before Seungmin even realized the movie had ended. His body still felt too warm, too sticky under the blanket, every nerve on edge from what had just happened. He didn’t dare move. If he shifted even slightly, someone might notice he wasn’t actually asleep. One by one, the boys stretched, muttering about food or showers, scattering out of the living room with no suspicion at all. Seungmin stayed curled up in the corner of the couch, his face half-hidden, praying they wouldn’t look too closely, and Chris, of course, didn’t rush. He stayed draped behind him until the room emptied, his cock softening inside the sticky mess he’d left behind. Only when the last door shut did he finally pull out, his cum seeping out hotly between the pup’s blushing asscheeks.
The younger flinched at the loss, curling tighter into himself. His cheeks burned. He didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to think about the fact that he’d just let his leader use him like that while the rest of their group sat only feet away.
A hand brushed over his hip, warm and steady. “Pup.”
Seungmin shook his head, his voice catching before he could stop it. “You— you can’t just—” His throat closed around the words. He couldn’t even name it, couldn’t even say the word. he let him rape him again. That’s what it was in the end right…?
Chris leaned closer, his breath stirring the hair at Seungmin’s temple. “Can’t just what? Touch what’s mine? Remind you how good you take me?” His tone was maddeningly gentle, as if he were soothing him rather than cornering him.
Seungmin’s lip trembled. His whole body ached with shame and the aftershocks of release. He wanted to scream, wanted to shove him away, but instead his fingers fisted tighter in the hem of Chris’ shirt, like some pathetic tether.
Chris smiled at that, pressing a kiss into the side of his head. “You were perfect, pup. Quiet, obedient… You made me proud tonight.”
The words hit harder than the act itself, making Seungmin’s chest cave in with something he couldn’t name. His ears burned hotter, tears threatening again. He wanted to deny it, to say no, to say never again. There was an off putting part of him that warmed at the idea of making his leader proud, of doing good. Maybe he really was puppy coded if he was this eager to please.
Even if it hurts.