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“There’s a temporal fissure in the basement practice room.” Manager-hyung says, like that’s a thing that just kind of fucking happens.
On Jisung’s left, Chan takes in a breath like he’s about to fucking scream. “Right.” He says instead, remarkably even, all things considered. “And we weren’t informed of this because…?”
Manager-hyung shrugs. “We didn’t know.” He informs. Like it’s just another fucking Tuesday. “The only reason that we do know is. Well,”
And then he gestures to Changbin, who currently takes up half the room that he used to, on account of being back in his nineteen year old body once again.
“Yeah, thanks for the heads up, by the way.” Changbin snarks, and Jesus fuck, even his voice has gone back to the way it used to be. Slightly more nasal, with that rasp that Changbin always had. When did Changbin move his voice from his nose to his chest? Jisung can’t remember. “Really appreciate that, hyung.”
Changbin crosses his arms. It’s a lot less intimidating when he’s drowning in his t-shirt instead of threatening to burst out of it.
You could probably pin him down like this, Jisung’s brain chimes in, unhelpfully. Hold him in place, fuck into him like a doll.
Jisung blinks. Hey man, he thinks back, attempting to put himself into a mental chokehold. Can you like, chill? For two fucking seconds?
Wanting to fuck Changbin isn’t a new thing for Jisung. He’s wanted to fuck Changbin since, like, day one. It’s not even that this version of Changbin is hotter, or whatever. Jisung wants to fuck Changbin regardless of how fat his tits are or whether his ass claps when he walks.
He’s just not used to this specific version of Changbin. It’s been years since he last saw it, after all. Changbin’s been buff and hot for so long that Jisung almost forgot that Changbin was once small. Scrawny. Cute.
Breakable.
Manager-hyung’s still talking. Probably about something important, all things considered. Jisung tunes back in, just in time to hear, “…sectioned off, and researchers will be coming in to observe the anomaly. Practice is cancelled until further notice.”
“We have a comeback in a month.” Changbin says, flatly.
“Not when you look like that.” Manager-hyung shoots back. “The division’s going to discuss what to do, because we can’t release albums that don’t match the stage concepts.”
Jisung‘s brain rolls its metaphorical eyes and huffs, who gives a fuck about that? I wanna see Changbin’s stomach bulge from my cock.
Jisung thinks back, quite desperately, first of all, our dick is not that big, second of all can you please get a grip.
To which Jisung’s brain petulantly mumbles, Changbin should grip our dick with that sweet little ass of his.
“I’m going to kill myself.” Jisung says out loud. “I’m going to do it.”
Everyone’s used to him and his shit, so no one responds, save for Chan’s momentary and disapproving side eye, but Jisung gets one of those at least twice a week. “Anyways,” Manager-hyung continues, not even blinking. “I need to go talk to Div One about possible reshoots.” He leaves.
Chan sighs, the same world-weary sigh that he sighs whenever he experiences anything. “I’m going to take a nap.” He says, resolutely. And then he leaves as well.
Leaving Changbin and Jisung alone in the dorm.
Good thing Hyunjin’s off slobbering on Felix’s schlong, Jisung thinks. Normal Jisung, because the rest of his brain is in time out. Last thing we need is his bullshit right about now.
Changbin buries his face in his palms. “Temporal fucking fissure.” He grumbles, laughing a little incredulously. Jisung can’t help but join in. “I should’ve auditioned at SM instead.”
“With all the shit their creative team pumps out?” Jisung jokes, unable to stop himself from tracking the way Changbin’s jaw shifts with his smile. Again, it was always a fact, hell, it was a joke—the sharp angles of Changbin’s face, the way he used to be mostly edges before weight filled in the space between his features. But Jisung’s gotten so used to the fuller Changbin that he’s forgotten how fucking cute those angles used to be. How Changbin’s smile used to seem bigger because of how it’d stretch the limits of his face. How badly Jisung wanted to hug him, not to fall into Changbin’s softness but to try and fit Changbin into all of his own spaces.
“Jisung-ah?” Changbin is asking, and Jisung blinks out of his thoughts to find himself closer to Changbin than he was a moment ago. Much closer. Close enough to be crowding Changbin against the wall of the living room. “You’re. Um.”
“Oh.” Jisung mumbles, looking down at Changbin. God, he’s looking down. Sure, Jisung’s only got a single, measly centimetre over Changbin in terms of height, but it seems like an infinite space now. Now that Jisung is twenty-two, and muscled, and grown, while Changbin is back to being nineteen and scrawny all over again. “Sorry hyung.”
He doesn’t move an inch. He couldn’t, not even if he wanted to.
Changbin laughs, high and nervous. “Jesus, you’re broad.” He mumbles, slightly frenzied. He says it like it’s a realization. His eyes are almost entirely pupils, glassy and black and brimming with… something. Something lickable. Jisung kind of wants to lick Changbin’s eyes. “You got really buff, haha.”
“Haha.” Jisung echoes, fully losing his mind in that moment, not even thinking when the next words leave his mouth in the shape of, “Hyung, can I manhandle you sexually?”
The awkward smile drops off of Changbin’s face, quickly replaced by a strawberry red hue that colours his cheeks and reaches the tips of his ears. “Um.” Changbin wets his lips. Even his tongue looks small and cute. “I- Yes? Please?”
Jisung can barely breathe. “Seriously?” He blurts, hoping to every higher power that he comes across as excited instead of anything that suggests that he isn’t so incredibly horny.
“I really- I wanna be topped.” Strawberry has darkened to cherry. Changbin’s lips are parted with laboured breaths. Jisung’s never seen him like this, not in this body or his newer-older one. “If you want to, then- you don’t have to- I know I wasn’t- I’m not-“
The decision to kiss Changbin is made for two reasons. Firstly, because Jisung’s dick is ready to explode. And secondly, Changbin seemed ready to kill himself if he let another word escape him. Jisung pushes Changbin against the wall fully, taking that sharp chin into his hands and bullying his way past Changbin’s plush lips. Changbin’s hands—small and dainty and soft, lacking the callouses that come from years and years of lifting weights—tangle into Jisung’s hair as a whine bursts from Changbin’s chest.
“I want.” Jisung pants. He feels fucking deranged, dropping his hands to the small of Changbin’s waits and squeezing and fuck his thumbs can almost touch- “Hyung, I want to so bad, you’re the perfect size, you’re so small.”
“Fuck you.” Changbin moans, shuddering. The words seem to hit him like a tidal wave, his entire body trembling with them. “Go to he- woah-!”
There’s a twinge of pain in Jisung’s scalp as Changbin’s fingers twist and tighten among the strands, but he lets it slide. Partly because it feels good, but mostly because it’s a natural reaction to suddenly being lifted to the air. Changbin’s legs wrap around Jisung’s waist so naturally, as if on fucking instinct, and Jisung licks into Changbin’s mouth as he takes them down the hall and into his own room.
Changbin’s hips are arching off the bed when Jisung throws him down into it. “God.” Jisung groans. He feels crazed. Changbin’s now too-big shirt has dropped low enough for his collar bones to be exposed, flushed the same colour as Changbin’s ears. He looks like a slut. Jisung brings his teeth down to suck a mark into the hollow of Changbin’s neck and mumbles, feverish and frenzied, “I wanna snap you in half, hyung.”
The gasp that escapes Changbin’s lips is punched out, half a laugh and half a sound of pleasure. “Freak.” He admonishes, fondly, letting Jisung strip the shirt off of him entirely. He’s so compliant. It’s making Jisung dizzy. It never really dawned on him just how much of Changbin’s brazen brattiness came from bulking up, how Changbin was basically all talk before he started hitting the gym. This Changbin, the Changbin that he has beneath him, feels familiar in the way of a childhood bed, one that Jisung is relearning the longer he spends entrenched in its warmth.
“You’re so hot.” Jisung mumbles instead, because verbalizing any of that in a moment like this would probably make Changbin try to kill him. “You’re hot small and you’re hot buff. What’s your fucking problem?”
He yanks the shirt over and off of Changbin’s head, because as sexy as the too-big look is on him, Jisung needs to see more skin or he will explode. Then again, he just about explodes after Changbin gets his shirt off, so there’s no real winning, is there? “What?” Changbin coughs, slightly self-conscious, crossing his arms over his chest.
Jisung just shakes his head. “Your tits are magnificent.”
Changbin’s nervousness dissolves immediately, replaced by an ugly and incredulous snort that escapes him. “What tits?” He laughs, jokingly arching his back to push his nipples in the air. Jisung feels faint. “I’m as flat as a board.”
“All tits are good tits.” Jisung says solemnly, and Changbin laughs again, which is fine. Jisung is being serious, but he’ll let it slide, kissing down the flat planes of Changbin’s chest and right down to his stomach. He doesn’t have the love handles that Jisung’s thought about grabbing so many times, but he shivers when Jisung bites the edge of his belly button, which is still pretty good.
“Jisung-ah,” Changbin sighs, twisting a hand into Jisung’s hair. He lifts his hips shyly—a word that usually seems absurd to apply to Changbin. But it fits him perfectly now, pink cheeks and pinker ears and all. “My pants, can you-“
Changbin’s breath catches when Jisung uses one hand to hold his hips up to do his work. The pink grows darker, but that’s not what Jisung focuses on. It’s weird, now that he thinks about it—the fact that he’s never seen Changbin’s dick until now. They’ve lived together for so long, after all. Jisung didn’t really have any sort of expectations for it, but it’s released from the confines of Changbin’s briefs and Jisung looks at it and feels like he’s going to fucking go insane.
“Oh, hyung,” Jisung breathes, his hand almost covers the entirety of Changbin’s cock as he reverently wraps his fingers around the base. “God, that’s cute.” He mumbles to himself. Changbin seems to hear, but his little gasp is a sweet one, so Jisung keeps talking. “It’s still this big now, isn’t it? Big strong man with a tiny dick. Probably looks out of place with all your muscle.”
“You’re dead once I’m big again.” Changbin grumbles, but his pupils are blown wide and his hands are trembling as he passes Jisung a bottle of lube from somewhere, so Jisung doesn’t stop. It’d be pretty fucking hard for him to stop, at this point. The floodgates are open, and a torrent of thoughts that’s been at least six years in the making is unleashed, a constant stream of consciousness that Jisung stumbles through as he fingers Changbin open.
“My hands are going to bruise so pretty on your little thighs.”
“Do my fingers feel bigger now that you’re little?”
“Hyung I can hold you down with one hand, fuck, that’s so hot.”
“God, I can’t wait to split you open on my cock.”
“Would your throat bulge if I fucked your face?” He wonders at one point. Changbin—now glassy eyes and dazed, shaking around three of Jisung’s fingers and thumbing his own nipples for any sort of stimulation—cries out, a sharp and desperate noise that almost seems to echo.
“Please,” Changbin sobs, face splotchy and flushed. Jisung kisses the space between his furrowed brows on instinct. He’s so fucking little. “Just fuck me, Jisung-ah, please-“
“You like this,” Jisung notes, not quite a realization, but it’s close. Changbin hasn’t done anything to suggest otherwise this entire time, but it’s the intensity of his enjoyment that makes Jisung’s dizzy smile creep across his face the way that it does. “You like being little and easy to push and cute, don’t you hyung? Like being overpowered and held down and fucked like a bitch.”
Changbin throws up one of his arms to try and hide his face, but his muscles aren’t yet big enough to do the job. “Please,” Changbin repeats, soft and slurring, he looks fucking drunk on it, on just the thought. Of Jisung delivering on his threat. “Please- I need- hyung.”
The word must break Jisung’s brain; it almost seems to echo in his ears, and then he blinks, and then he’s looking down at Changbin cradled in his arms, pulled mostly into his lap, shaking and sobbing as Jisung holds him in place and fucks into him like a doll.
“I am your hyung, aren’t I?” Jisung mumbles, laughing unevenly. God, Changbin’s so tight and so fucking wet, lube dripping out of his hole with every thrust in. “You’re younger than me, right now.”
“Ji-Jisung-ah-“ Changbin chokes, voice breaking into a near scream as Jisung adjusts him in his grip and fucks up. “Hyung-“
“There w-we are.” Jisung grins. Changbin’s sweaty palms are scrabbling desperately at Jisung’s shoulders, the bite of his nails into Jisung’s skin a satisfying pinch. Fuck, there’s no way that he’s lasting long. “Let hyung do the work for today, okay?”
If Jisung wasn’t losing his mind, if Changbin wasn’t fuck dumb in his arms, he’d probably appreciate this more on a deeper level of some sort. Something about Changbin—always dependable, always the older brother, never once wavering or showing any sort of crack—fully falling to pieces in Jisung’s hold. And Jisung—always taken care of, always accommodated, never the pillar to tether or ground—finally being bigger, broader, stronger. Finally able to watch Changbin break. Finally big enough to catch all the pieces and put him back together.
Jisung grits his teeth, the threat of orgasm wound tight around the discs of his spine. His pace is slow but brutal. He’s fucking up and dragging Changbin down at the same time. “Cum for me.” He grinds out, vision going dark at the edges. “C’mon, Changbin-ah.”
And, without a finger on his cock, Changbin does just that—lashes fluttering and lips parting and fingernails digging into Jisung’s skin hard enough to bleed. He trembles, taut and tense, like he could snap right in half. And Jisung shouts, pulling Changbin impossibly closer, burying himself in Changbin’s warmth as he cums.
“Fuck.” Changbin eventually manages after a long moment, a hoarse sound smothered by Jisung’s skin that Jisung can’t help but laugh at.
“Yeah.” He sighs, still giggling. He moves to pull out. Stops when Changbin clenches. It’s not a terrible feeling, considering Jisung’s normal refractory period and his still mostly-hard cock, but it makes him pause regardless. “Uh.”
Changbin pulls away from Jisung’s shoulder. His little face is pink. His pupils are still dilated. “You don’t have to stop.” He mumbles, shyly, wetting his lips.
Jisung blinks, and then groans. “I'm in heaven.” He declares, and Changbin laughs through his moan as Jisung pushes him down and starts fucking into him again.
//
Jisung is almost falling off of the bed when he wakes up, which means that Changbin’s back to his present-day body. “The scientists are gonna be pissed.” He croaks, blinking sleep out of his eyes to meet Changbin’s somewhat nervous gaze. “There goes their data.”
“Haha, yeah.” Changbin coughs. His ears are red again. “Um. So. I’m back to normal.”
“Yup.” Jisung agrees, yawning.
Changbin winces. “Yup.” He echoes. He’s as broad as a goddamn mini-fridge, but his voice is so small. “So. Was that a one-time thing, or…”
Jisung blinks again, and then clambers up to his knees. “Hyung.” He says, surprisingly confident. Maybe it’s the haze of sleep that still clouds his head, drowning out any hesitation. Maybe it’s the sheer desire that strains the lining of his blood vessels, threatening to tear him open from the inside out. Jisung plants one hand on Changbin’s chest, and shoves him flat against the bed.
“Hey!” Changbin squawks, offended.
“Keep being so easy, and I’ll do this whenever you want.” Jisung states, ignoring him completely. “Shit, I’ll fuck you even if you don’t want to be manhandled. I wanna put my dick in your ass whether it’s concave or convex.”
Changbin’s flush races down his bruised neck, all the way to his chest. “Fucker.” He mumbles, shyly averting his gaze. “I should hit you for that.”
He doesn’t move an inch. Jisung grins, sleepy and satisfied, before clambering over Changbin to kiss him senseless.