Chapter Text
Chan looks up at the building, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. It’s a huge contemporary-styled house, more residential than commercial in its design, a behemoth of wood, stone, and glass. Despite its size and grandeur, it seems to melt into the forest around it, with its natural materials and organic silhouette. It looks warm and inviting, like a cosy den burrowed into the landscape. It soothes him; he thinks he might have backed out if the place seemed too cold and sterile.
He’s not sure how he feels about a spa getaway—the idea of all those strangers’ hands all over him makes him anxious—but Sana insisted he go. She got the ticket in a freebie hamper at some industry event, but claimed she was too busy to use it. Chan’s surprised she couldn’t make time for it, seeing as she spoke so highly of the place. She had really pushed for Chan to go, though, and in the end, he couldn’t say no to his best friend.
All the windows have some sort of reflective coating, like a one-way mirror, so Chan can’t see inside at all. It’s a nice touch, he thinks; it really does bring the landscape into the architecture. Okay, that’s enough pretending you like architecture to delay the inevitable, Chan thinks to himself. He gulps down his nervousness, drags his suitcase up the steps, and presses the fancy electronic doorbell.
“Coming!” someone hollers, the sound muffled behind the grand door.
“I’ve got it!” Another voice shouts.
Chan’s not sure what he expected—something slightly more slick and polished, an automatic door and a receptionist, perhaps—but the environment seems very domestic, and, strangely, it puts Chan at ease.
The door swings open with no drama, and Chan is met by two extraordinarily pretty guys dressed in casual loungewear.
“Hi, Chan,” one of them says. He has sharp features, juxtaposed with a sweet smile.
They know all their clients by name? Chan thinks, bewildered. He almost laughs. It’s truly crazy what money can get you.
“Um, hello,” Chan says. He’s not sure what to say next. Luckily, the guy gives him no time to start rambling.
“I’m Jeongin,” he says, smiling widely. “This is Felix,” he points a thumb towards a guy with long hair and freckles, who waves a tiny hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Before Chan gets a chance to speak, another pair rounds the corner, a short, well-built guy with a handsome face dragging a taller man by the elbow. The tall one is startlingly beautiful, and he’s fighting to apply glittery pink lipgloss while he’s being towed across the room.
“I’m not ready yet,” he whines pitifully, peering into his little compact mirror. The front part of his hair is clipped in a roller. The short guy ignores him, dragging him right up to the door.
“Chan! Nice to meet you, I’m Jisung!” He says excitedly. “This is Hyunjin, he’d say hello but he’s busy being vain as shit.”
“Hey!” Hyunjin says, looking wounded. He closes his lipgloss and looks Chan up and down. “Hey,” he drawls salaciously with a wink. Chan blushes intensely, ducking his head to hide his red face.
“Hyunjin, don’t be weird,” a fifth guy calls as he enters the foyer space. Where are all these beautiful men coming from? Chan wonders. The newest guy is wearing silk pyjamas, in contrast with the others’ sweaters and tracksuit bottoms. His clothing and attitude are sophisticated, but his face Chan can only describe as adorable.
He, too, approaches the door, joining the group in front of Chan. “Good morning, Mr. Bang. My name is Seungmin,” he says, extending an arm between two of the other guys for Chan to shake. He obliges, subtly wiping his sweaty palm on his jeans beforehand. The handshake is firm, but not overbearing. Seungmin has big, soft hands. "How are you today?" He asks.
“Morning,” Chan laughs a little awkwardly. “Nice to meet you. All." He eyes the gaggle of people around him, deciding to be honest. "I'm… pretty nervous."
"Aww," the drop-dead gorgeous one (Hyunjin?) coos. "You're so cute!"
Chan blushes furiously, his hands coming up to cover his ears reflexively. He opens his mouth, searching for an appropriate response to that, and comes up empty. His eyes dart around the room, desperately avoiding eye contact, and land on even more new additions to the group.
A tall, slim man with an unmistakable air of authority stands at the back of the foyer. He’s dressed strangely, like the others, but looks sharp and stately, in a pyjama set with a matching robe.
“Kids,” he says sternly. “Don’t crowd him.” He’s flanked by another stern-looking guy with huge muscles and tattoos peeking out from his black clothing. Somehow, the slim one seems scarier.
“Sorry, hyung,” Jisung says immediately, taking a quick step back from the door and bowing his head. Jeongin, Felix and Hyunjin back away at a more leisurely pace, while Seungmin stays near Chan.
“I’m Minho, and this is Changbin. This is all of us, I’m sure you’re glad to hear,” says the man in the robe, taking in Chan’s evident nervousness. Changbin smiles slightly, nodding at Chan.
“Welcome to Haebang,” Seungmin announces. “We’re so excited to work with you this week.”
Work with him? The phrasing seems a little much for a spa visit, but Chan brushes it off as a rich-people thing. Seungmin continues, “I’ll show you to your private bedroom in a moment, but you’re completely free to use any room in the house at your discretion. This is an entirely private location; nobody other than yourself and the seven of us will enter the house during the week.”
Huh?
“Am… Am I the only customer here?” Chan asks hesitantly. That can’t be good news.
“Of course!” Seungmin says calmly. “Given the nature of the retreat, we only take on one client at a time, so don’t worry. Your stay will be completely discreet.”
“The… nature of the retreat? What do you mean by that?” Chan asks, clueless.
“Well, since it is a sexual liberation program, we—” Seungmin stops when Chan chokes on his own saliva, doubling over to cough violently. He straightens back up, wiping his wet eyes, too shocked to be embarrassed.
“A what program?” He exclaims. “I’m sorry, my friend told me this was a spa retreat!”
A moment passes in silence. Then, Hyunjin snorts, breaking out in gleeful cackles. Some of the others follow, cracking up. Jeongin, the one with the pretty smile, doubles over. Jisung hits the floor. Even the most serious ones crack a smile. Somehow, Chan doesn’t feel like they’re laughing at him, and their mirth is contagious; he smiles, then begins to chuckle, and soon he’s out of breath, the whole group feeding off each other’s laughter.
“That is a first,” Felix says, wiping his eyes where he’s teared up from laughing so hard.
“One hell of a spa,” Jisung remarks breathlessly, setting off Jeongin and Hyunjin once again.
“Guys,” Seungmin chastises, unable to hide his smile. He turns to Chan. “Haebang is a sexual liberation retreat, which means we work with clients to improve their sex lives. While we are all trained therapists, much of our work is done through personal relationships and interactions with clients. That is to say, we are also sex workers.”
Chan’s expression must change, because Hyunjin crosses his arms, his expression taking on a dark edge.
“If you have a problem with that, just leave now,” he hisses. Nobody reprimands him for the comment, and Felix places a soothing hand on his arm. Chan wonders if maybe he’s faced some opposition for his line of work before.
“No, no problem at all,” he says. So they’re sex workers… Presumably the ticket didn’t come in a hamper, then. “I suppose maybe,” he offers, “and this is not to imply that all sex workers know each other, like some sort of hive mind,” he winces at his own weirdness, before barrelling on, “but maybe one of you knows Minatozaki Sana?”
Suddenly, all their guarded expressions lift.
“We do know Sana!” Jeongin says. Then he peers at Chan with a mixture of confusion and suspicion. “You know Sana?”
“Hey!” Chan accuses lightly, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I meeean…” Hyunjin cuts in, gesturing at Chan’s hair, clothes, shoes, glasses—at his everything, really. He has a point. Sana has looked red-carpet ready every day for the last decade, while Chan’s never even touched a bow tie. All Sana’s other friends look like idols… like these guys.
“We’ve been friends since we were babies,” Chan says as justification. “And now we work together.” He’s levelled with seven disbelieving looks, and rushes to clarify, “She’s my boss, I’m her accountant and personal assistant.” Disbelief turns to understanding. “She bought my ticket here… and lied to me to get me to come.”
“Atta girl,” Changbin grins.
“Well, it’s up to you whether you’d like to stay or leave,” Seungmin says, “but I’d highly recommend you let us ask you a few questions and stay to hear our proposed plan for the week before you make your decision.”
“Oh… Sure,” Chan says, looking down at his scuffed trainers as he tries not to think too hard about these gorgeous men and sex at the same time.
“Great,” Seungmin smiles, then glides over to a console table and picks up a clipboard. “Shall we move to the front lounge? I’m sure it’s more comfortable than the doorway,” he quips, smirking at Chan, who steps inside quickly, blushing.
“Jisung, bring in his suitcase,” says the scary one.
“Yes, hyung.”
Chan changes into the house slippers they offer him, and they all walk through to an adjacent room, which is decorated in a way that is clearly expensive, but not at all flashy. There’s a large fireplace, lit and crackling, faced by an immense sectional which wraps around three sides of a giant reclaimed wood coffee table. Seungmin sinks into the sofa cushions and invites Chan to sit beside him. The others trickle into the room afterwards, many of them bringing drinks—Jisung offers Chan a peppermint tea, his favourite, before going to sit at Minho’s feet—or bowls of snacks to add to the low coffee table.
“Ah,” Seungmin says as he sits down, “I should mention that we always speak casually at Haebang, regardless of age, so as not to foster uneven power dynamics. You might hear others using honorifics,” he says, his eyes darting towards Jisung and Minho, “but we will not be using them with yourself unless previously discussed. Is that okay with you?” Chan nods. He doesn’t see a problem with that. “Now, let’s start easy,” Seungmin says, smiling reassuringly. “How would you describe your sexuality?”
That’s starting easy? Chan gulps.
“Uh… I’m gay,” he mutters, looking down at his interlaced fingers. It’s not that he’s uncomfortable with being queer or anything, it’s just that he doesn’t get a lot of practice talking about it.
“What else?” Seungmin looks at Chan impassively.
What else? What else is there to say?
“Um… Pardon?” Chan feels like a deer in the headlights. Seungmin smiles kindly, and so do the others.
“Could you broadly describe your sexual interests? Likes and dislikes? Any specific kinks or fetishes?”
Chan blinks.
“I… I don’t know?” He feels pathetic, but he braves a glance around the room and sees no judgemental looks, only friendly faces.
“That’s okay,” Seungmin says easily, still smiling. “Can you remember any specific interactions with previous partners that you enjoyed?”
It’s an easy question. The easiest yet. Because the answer is no. Chan feels a rush of hot shame and humiliation pass over him. Just say it quick and get out of here, he thinks.
"I, uh… I haven't had any," Chan says, so quietly that it's almost a whisper. He can feel the flush burning through his face and neck, his ears feeling hot.
"That's fine," Seungmin says, brushing it off as if Chan's just said he’s a vegetarian, rather than admitted he's a twenty-five year old virgin. Seungmin places the clipboard down on his lap, capping his pen. The form is practically blank. Chan cringes. "Do you have any other experience with physical intimacy? For example, kissing?" He poses the question casually, as if it's part of a Buzzfeed quiz rather than a seven-on-one interview about Chan's sexual history.
“No,” Chan says. He feels oddly soothed by the man's unbothered demeanour. He realises that, although he feels a little awkward, his anxiety is gone. There’s something comforting about laying everything out, totally systematic and objective.
“Great,” Seungmin says. “You might not believe me, but I think you could really benefit from our services.” Chan balks at that, and Seungmin is quick to reassure him. “Haebang isn’t Fifty Shades of Grey; we won’t be rushing you into anything extreme within the week, rather we would like to work with you to familiarise yourself with your own sexuality. Having a deeper understanding of your sexuality promotes self confidence and self esteem, as well as fostering open-mindedness and respect and compassion for others. It strengthens interpersonal relationships of all types, not just sexual ones.” Seungmin looks at Chan knowingly. It feels like he can see straight through him.
“That sounds…” Chan trails off. It sounds strange. It sounds scary. But also, beneath that, it sounds good. It sounds freeing. Should he just say yes? It would easily be the most impulsive thing Chan had ever done, and that scares him.
“Here is the schedule we would propose,” Seungmin says, handing Chan a sheet of thick paper. “You would have full control over this, of course. At any time, you can cancel, reschedule, or swap any of the plans. Needless to say, your consent will never be assumed, during or outside of meetings, and can be withdrawn at any time without need for explanation.”
Chan nods, and looks down at the schedule. It doesn’t tell much. Each day of the week is assigned a name or two from the group, and a theme. The schedule for today says “Felix: Intimacy”. Chan’s eyes flicker to Felix on instinct, and he’s met with a warm gaze. Felix is gorgeous, needless to say, and now that it’s on the table, Chan can’t keep the idea of sleeping with him off his mind. He swallows thickly.
“So uh, what will actually happen in each of these… lessons?” Chan asks tentatively. “I mean, in terms of… sex.”
“Whatever you want,” Seungmin says. “If you’d prefer, we can outline it now so that you know what’s coming,” he suggests. Chan nods, and Seungmin nods back at him. “What is it you want to have done by the end of the week?”
“Uhm… Sex?” Chan says, his voice cracking embarrassingly. The guys don’t react, except for Hyunjin, who seems to find it cute.
“What kind?” Seungmin asks placidly. “Oral, anal, giving, receiving,” he prompts.
“Uh… All of them? Would be… nice?” Chan says in a choked whisper. Hyunjin coos, and Seungmin gives him a sharp look.
“Wonderful,” Seungmin plucks the itinerary from Chan’s hands gently, setting it back on his clipboard and writing quickly. “In that case, I would recommend a fairly linear path. You know, the ‘traditional’ order of things,” he says, doing air quotes. “Kind of like first base, second base, et cetera.” A few of the guys chuckle at that, and Chan cracks a small smile.
Seungmin hands him back his schedule. He’s written short, straightforward notes next to each entry, specifying sexual acts. Chan blushes again. “But that’s still just a guide. You’re always free to change your mind and take things in a different direction or rescind your consent, as are we.”
“Great,” Chan says, his throat dry.
It’s one hell of a proposal.
Sex. A week of sex. With some of the most attractive men he’s ever seen. Just like that: sex.
It’s a completely foreign idea to Chan, who’s never even come close to having a romantic relationship. Sure, he’s had girls confess to him before, in Australia as well as Korea, but obviously he turned them down. Maybe if he’d stayed in Australia, he would’ve dated, but he left long before he came out. Being gay in Korea is still a big deal, and Chan doesn’t want the extra attention—negative or positive. So, he’s stayed in the closet, and he’s stayed single.
It’s not that Chan’s unhappy being single, of course not—he has his friends, and his family—but he does wonder if he’s missing out. Every time his sister talks about dating, or his parents ask if he’s seeing anyone, he feels like he’s missing out. When he balances Sana’s books, seeing the vast amounts of money people spend on sex, he feels like he’s missing out. Maybe it’s time to find out if it’s true. And what does he have to lose? As Seungmin said, his stay at the ranch is discreet; there are literally no strings attached.
Fuck it.
“Okay! I’m in!” Chan says with conviction.
“Wonderful!” Seungmin says, looking mildly surprised but mostly just happy. “Jeongin will show you to your room; take the rest of the morning to make yourself at home, and Felix will see you back in the lounge at one o'clock.”
Jeongin leads him up the staircase and herds him into the first room at the top. It’s quite plain but still luxurious, like a freshly-cleaned hotel room. The bed is unfussy, a simple but attractive wooden frame with white silk sheets and an inviting stack of pillows. His suitcase is already there, lined up neatly by the door.
“So, this is your room,” Jeongin says, smiling his sweet smile. “The closet has sheets and towels, and clothes that I bought for you based on your profile.” His smile turns impish. “Well, based on Sana’s profile of you, I guess. That’s your bathroom,” he says, pointing at a door, “and it should have everything you need as well, but if you want anything else, let us know.”
“Thanks,” Chan says, because he’s not sure what else to say. Jeongin bought him clothes? This must have cost Sana a fortune. But, Chan supposes, if anyone could afford it, it’d be her.
“The clothes are organised into outfits,” Jeongin continues, his eyes twinkling, “but you can feel free to ignore that if you’d rather style yourself.”
Chan nods, a little dazed. Jeongin is so energetic. “Well okay,” he says, “I’ll stop bothering you now.” And he turns to leave.
“You’re not bothering me,” Chan calls after him, a little pointlessly.
“I know,” Jeongin calls back. “And by the way,” he says, poking his head back through the door, “I think you’re really handsome, and I’m really excited to get to know you.” He smiles again and leaves, shutting the door gently behind him.
Chan stands there in the middle of the room with his jaw dropped for a long beat. Jeongin thinks he’s handsome? Jeongin, whose smile is so pretty that Chan’s heart is still fluttering in his chest… He flops on the bed face-first, grabbing one of the plush feather pillows and burying his face in it, his smile wide.
After a moment, he throws the pillow back towards the head of the bed and gets up, walking across the plush carpet to the wardrobe. When he opens it, he almost gasps out loud. It’s packed with expensive-looking clothes, each garment brand new. They’re mostly streetwear-type items—the kind of thing Chan often sees on Instagram and secretly wishes he could pull off. Maybe he could pull them off. Sana seems to think so—and Jeongin, too, apparently.
Out of pure curiosity, and because he’s buzzing with nervous energy with nothing better to do, Chan carefully takes down a hanger with an outfit that caught his eye. It’s simple and non-threatening (which is more than he can say for the neon green faux-fur peeking out at the other end of the rack), just baggy black cargo pants and a matching vest, to be layered over a simple oversized t-shirt. Jeongin has included accessories, too, a handful of silver rings and a chunky curb chain.
Suddenly, Chan realises something.
He’s seeing Felix at lunchtime. To explore “intimacy”.
That means he has a date!
Chan eyes the outfit, then glances down at his own jeans and plaid shirt, and without further consideration, begins to strip. Sure, maybe he’s being a little over-eager, but Sana’s paid for everything, so he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make the most of it. He finds a drawer filled to the brim with designer underwear (and if he sees any lace peeking out at the back, he staunchly ignores it) and pulls on a pair. Huh. It really is comfier than the supermarket own-brand he normally wears. Who would’ve thought?
He pulls on the rest of the outfit, one beautiful garment at a time. He’s surprised when even the simplest elements are elevated. The t-shirt looks like cotton but feels like clouds on his skin. Up close, the rings are gorgeous, all smooth hewn silver and masculinity. Once he has on the whole ensemble, he steps in front of the full-length mirror.
Wow. Chan has never been one to put much stock in clothing before, but he can see a real difference in himself. The clothes suit his build, emphasising the results of his hours at the gym without being revealing. Somehow, he looks taller. He rakes a hand through his hair, pushing it out of its neatly combed style, letting it fall into his eyes. It suits him now, when before it always just looked messy. He even finds his body language and posture relaxing into something approaching cool, the rings giving him something to distract himself with, without looking like he’s fidgeting.
He looks hot. He only hopes Felix will agree.
—
Chan arrives early to his first workshop. Seven minutes early, his watch says. He sits down on the sofa, then gets up, wondering if it would be weird to be sat down when Felix gets there. Or would it be more weird to be standing? His palms are sweating. Is Felix just going to grab him and start kissing him or something? He sits down and stands up twice more before the younger man arrives.
Felix breezes through the door, dressed in a soft, oversized yellow hoodie and black skinny jeans. He’s carrying a picnic basket.
“Hi, Chan!” He chirps. “How are you?”
“I’m good, thanks,” Chan replies. “And you?”
“Yeah I’m doing great,” Felix says. “I’m so happy I get to see you first. All the other guys are so jealous,” he grins. Chan doesn’t know what to say. “Come outside with me,” Felix says, heading for the French doors at the back of the room which open onto a gorgeous clearing filled with wildflowers.
“Are we having a picnic?” Chan asks as he kicks off his slippers and heads outside. It’s the middle of summer, so it’s dry and warm enough that the grass isn’t cold on his bare feet.
“Yeah! I bake a lot,” Felix says, “so I’ve made us some snacks. It’s not much.”
It is much. When they get out into the clearing, Felix unrolls a picnic blanket and begins to unpack his ‘snacks’. There are sandwiches, bagels, sliders made on little brioche rolls, cookies, muffins, pastries, scones with cream and jam, macarons, éclairs, and more.
“Eat whatever you want; leave whatever you want,” Felix says. “The guys will finish whatever we don’t. They’re like vultures.” He chuckles, and so does Chan.
“You really made all this?” Chan asks, tentatively picking up a miniature chicken sandwich.
“Yep,” Felix says. “Minho-hyung helped me with some of the cooking, but I baked all the breads, cakes, cookies and stuff from scratch.”
Chan bites into his slider, and the flavours explode on his tongue. The chicken is juicy and well-seasoned, enveloped in a crunchy golden coating, and pairs perfectly with rich mayonnaise and zingy pickles. However, the star of the show is the bun. Felix has nailed it. The brioche roll is soft and bouncy, slightly sweet with a hint of acidity, and Felix seems to have toasted it to add a little extra flavour and crunch for the slider. Chan hums his approval.
“This is incredible, Felix!” He raises a hand to cover his mouth as he speaks through his mouthful, too thrilled to wait until he’s swallowed it to talk. Felix smiles beautifully at the compliment, showing off his pretty white teeth.
“Thanks!” Felix says.
They eat and chat for a while, talking about menial things like television and the weather. Chan watches Felix reverently whenever he’s not looking. He’s great company, obviously, and gorgeous, obviously, but strangely, Chan is completely distracted by his hands. Felix has these dainty little hands that are ridiculously cute but also, inexplicably, so sexy. Chan thinks he’d like to see and feel those hands all over him.
Everything Felix eats, he tears into little pieces to pop into his mouth, his little fingers digging into fluffy bread and sinking into mini quiches. He always licks them after he touches food, his pink tongue slipping over his tiny fingers. Chan is losing his mind.
As they dig into the sweets, Felix seems to remember something. He glances around, looking for something, then looks back towards the house. “Oh, one second,” he says, holding up a finger. “I left something in the kitchen,” he says.
Felix dashes off back to the house, bounding across the clearing as if he can’t wait to get back to Chan. He’s adorable, Chan thinks. Felix appears again only a few seconds later, with a plate in his hands and that same gorgeous grin on his face. When he arrives back, he stands in front of Chan and presents him with the plate. On it are triangular slices of thick white bread, covered with butter and multi-coloured sprinkles.
“This is called—” Felix starts.
“Fairy bread!” Chan exclaims in English, jumping up to his feet in shock. “You’re Aussie? I’m Aussie!”
“Yooooo!” Felix shrieks, grabbing Chan by the hands and jumping in a circle manically. “Aussie Aussie Aussie!” He screams at the top of his voice.
“Oi! Oi! Oi!” Chan responds, loosening up and joining in with Felix’s infectious zeal. Felix breaks away, jumping and clicking his heels in the air, before doing a front roll on the grass as he yells ‘Aussie Aussie Aussie’ again. He lands in a seated position, looking up at Chan expectantly, and Chan’s not sure where his inhibition goes, but as he volleys back his ‘Oi! Oi! Oi!’, he finds himself breaking out his best gym rat party trick: walking on his hands.
They both end up breathless with laughter, collapsing back down onto the picnic blanket. Chan lies there on his back, and is surprised when Felix’s voice comes from right by his head. They’ve landed a lot closer than they started.
“Ah, it’s so good to find someone who understands me. You know, you’re the first Aussie I’ve met in Korea,” Felix says.
Chan had been too preoccupied before to really notice how smooth and deep Felix’s voice is. It’s doubly rich right next to his ear like this. It makes him want to shiver.
What did Felix say again?
“I, uh… Um, yeah,” Chan chokes out. Felix doesn’t reply straight away, but rolls over and props himself up on his elbow so Chan can see his face from where he’s laid out flat on the blanket. Up close, he has freckles. Chan is mesmerised.
“What’s on your mind?” Felix asks.
I like your voice, Chan thinks.
“Uh, cookies,” he says, saying the first thing he sees in the spread of food around him.
“You want a cookie?” Felix says with a grin, leaning over Chan to grab one. As he does, his silver necklace drops out from the neckline of his hoodie, the dainty pendant dangling over Chan’s face. It’s hypnotising. Chan looks past it and he can see the soft-looking skin of Felix’s chest. He gulps.
Felix pulls back to hover over Chan, cookie in hand, and Chan looks away quickly, staring right up into Felix’s dark eyes. Felix seems to see something in Chan’s expression, or maybe the position they’re in affects him like it affects Chan, because his demeanour changes, subtly but instantly, slipping into something smooth and dark like chocolate.
“How ya doin’?” He asks softly, nose inches from Chan’s.
“Good,” Chan whispers.
Felix’s lips are so pretty, so pink and smooth and soft.
“We could share it,” Felix says.
“Huh?”
“The cookie,” Felix says, lifting it up where Chan can see it. It looks soft and gooey, with rich puddles of dark chocolate and flakes of sea salt on top.
“Uh huh,” Chan nods. He’s not sure what he’s agreeing to, but he doesn’t care. Whatever it is, he’s in.
Felix breaks off a small piece of cookie, his fingers pressing into the soft dessert, and puts the rest back on the plate. He brings his fingers to his mouth, licking off the traces of chocolate. Chan practically goes cross-eyed watching.
“Share it with me, then,” Felix says, then he places the piece of cookie between his teeth and leans in, so close to Chan, yet so far.
Chan’s mind goes blank. His breathing is fast and shallow, his vision a little blurry, and his thoughts come thick and syrupy, like wading through molasses. It takes him a little too long to realise that Felix isn’t going to do anything, that it’s up to Chan to make the move.
Chan swallows thickly, then opens his mouth and lifts his head to capture the dessert between Felix’s lips. He intends to do something more—to kiss Felix, maybe—but a wave of nervousness rushes over him at the last second, turning his limbs cold like an icy breeze.
Chan almost starts to feel embarrassed, ashamed that he couldn’t be more assertive. But then, Seungmin’s voice echoes in his ears: ‘That’s okay,’ he had said, when Chan had admitted he didn’t have any experience. He doesn’t care that Chan's a virgin; none of them care. Jeongin said he was excited to get to know him. Felix said the guys were jealous that he got to spend time with Chan. They like him as he is.
The cookie is delicious, sweet and salty and rich. Felix’s low, pleased chuckle in his ears is even better.
“I like your voice,” Chan blurts out.
“You do?” Felix says, his voice dropping even lower.
Chan just nods.
“D’you wanna go inside?” Felix says.
“Yeah,” Chan says, his heart pounding madly inside his chest.
—
Felix leads Chan to a bedroom he hasn’t seen before—between the décor and the lived-in vibes, he can only assume it’s Felix’s own room. It’s comforting; it reminds him of his own room at home. When his eyes land on the bed, which is roomy, with dark grey sheets, he swallows and looks away quickly.
“Well, this is me,” Felix says, waving a hand in a general sweep of the room. He crosses to the bed and sits down unceremoniously, patting the bedspread for Chan to sit beside him. "Today is about you becoming comfortable with your body and your sexuality in the presence of another person," Felix tells him as he sits down.
Ah, right. This is a workshop.
“Oh,” Chan says. “Um, what—” He swallows, “What does that entail?”
“Well, that’s up to you,” Felix says. “We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with. Ideally, I’d like you to get off, by masturbating, with me in the room.”
Chan shivers reflexively. If he wasn’t hard before, then he is now.
“Um,” he says, hand moving vaguely towards the zipper of his trousers. “Should I…?”
“Sure,” Felix says, pulling one leg up on the bed to turn his body more fully towards Chan. “If you want to.”
Chan does want to. He wants to do this. He wants to share this with Felix. He wants to break through this wall of anxiety between himself and anything that could be classed as sexual. He takes a deep breath, and undoes his cargo pants, pulling out his cock.
It’s a relief, getting that ‘first’ out of the way. Endorphins flood Chan’s body, and he can’t help smiling.
"You have a beautiful smile,” Felix says. Chan can’t look at him, his smile turning bashful as he goes pink. “And a beautiful cock," Felix says simply. It's just a statement, a straightforward compliment, but it takes Chan by surprise. He chokes on nothing, coughing—Felix pats his back soothingly—before uttering a croaky thanks.
"I, uh, know it's not particularly impressive," Chan starts, before Felix shushes him softly.
"Chan, babe," he says kindly, laying a hand on Chan's thigh. Chan's cock twitches from the contact—or from the word babe in Felix's deep voice, or a little of both. It's hard to tell. "You have nothing to apologise for," Felix affirms. "If you're having sex with someone, it's because they want to have sex with you."
Chan blushes, looking down reflexively, then flinches when his eyes are met with his own hard cock. Felix notices, chuckles softly, and tucks two fingers under Chan's chin to lift his head up, their gazes meeting. "I'm here because I want to have sex with you. All of us are here because we want to have sex with you," he says, gesturing widely to implicate the whole mansion.
"But this is your job," Chan says, glancing pointedly at his flagging erection before quickly raising his gaze.
"It is," Felix says, smiling. "But we're free to opt out of sexual interaction. If we don't want to do it hands-on, we offer talking therapies instead. We have to consent to everything, same as everyone else. I could've even backed out after lunch if I wanted to. But I didn't."
"Oh," Chan says, and then lapses into silence. Felix is stroking his inner thigh mindlessly, and it's really slowing down Chan's higher thought processes. He feels a lot better about the whole situation, knowing that the guys won't just be doing it because Sana's paying them. "Um, that's great," he says awkwardly.
Felix stays quiet, just looking at Chan. Their faces are close, noses almost touching. That physical closeness, that intimacy, turns Chan on.
"You feeling good?" Felix asks, a little redundantly seeing as Chan's cock is back to full hardness. "What are you liking right now?"
"Uh," Chan says dumbly. "I like it… when you're close to me?" It comes out like a question. Chan blushes, turning his head away; he feels like an idiot.
"I like it too," Felix smiles, nuzzling his nose against Chan's cheek. Cute. "I'm glad you're enjoying sharing space with me. Is it turning you on?"
"Yeah," Chan says, a little less shyly. This is simple, just questions and answers.
"What else?"
"You touching me," Chan continues, shifting his leg ever so slightly. Felix squeezes his thigh, running his nose up the side of Chan's neck. His hand doesn't even reach halfway across Chan's thigh. "Touching me, and talking about… sex…" Chan says the word quietly, self-consciously.
"Say it again," Felix commands gently, hot breath on Chan's ear. "You like it when I talk about…?"
"Sex," Chan repeats obediently. He feels a little shock of pleasure from completing the simple action, from doing as he's told. His cock twitches.
"Can I kiss you?" Felix asks suddenly, bursting Chan's bubble of calm. His heartbeat all but doubles in speed, pounding in his ears. This is the feeling he always gets, this white-hot anxiety around the thought of intimacy.
"Umm…" Chan says, strained.
"Does that make you nervous?" Felix asks, otherwise not reacting to Chan's obvious anxiety.
"Yeah," Chan breathes. He likes it when things are addressed explicitly, instead of being tiptoed around.
"That's okay," Felix says. The simple acknowledgement of Chan's fear cuts it in half instantly. He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "So," Felix says, "Do you want me to kiss you here?" He bumps his nose lightly against the side of Chan's neck, like a cute little peck.
Chan takes a moment to think.
"Yeah," he says softly. Felix kisses his neck, right where he said he would, and Chan hums. He thinks he can feel Felix's lips curving into a smile as he presses them to Chan's neck again. It feels nice. It’s not the huge crazy big deal Chan had built up in his mind when he thought about kissing, just a soft press of lips on skin.
It’s at that moment that Chan realises how good Felix and the guys are at their job. At taking all the things that seem like huge crazy big deals and systematically breaking them down into manageable steps.
"Touch yourself," Felix says. He doesn't stop kissing Chan's neck, soft presses of his lips in between sentences. "Show me how you make yourself come."
Chan groans at that, taking hold of his cock. He starts stroking it softly, spreading precum down his length. This he knows how to do. He’s certainly had enough practice.
And so Chan masturbates, with Felix's head on his shoulder and Felix's hand on his thigh. He can hear Felix's soft breathing next to his ear, knows Felix is watching, but ultimately it's just him and his hand as always. It's great. It's a huge step in the right direction.
“Does it feel good?” Felix asks.
“Yeah,” Chan breathes. It feels great.
“Any different from normal?” Felix kisses Chan’s neck once more for emphasis.
“Better,” Chan says easily. Of course it’s better. It’s new and exciting and for Christ’s sake, there’s a literal angel here with him rubbing his thigh and kissing his neck. Even though he’s doing exactly what he always does, it feels ten times more intense right now.
Felix hums next to Chan’s ear, pleased, and he moans in response. “Your voice,” Chan whines desperately.
“Yours too,” Felix says, deep and growly in Chan’s ear. “The sounds you make are…” He breaks off, kissing Chan’s jaw hungrily, his hot wet tongue swiping against the sensitive skin. The sensation startles another moan out of Chan, and Felix’s teeth scrape against his stubble as his jaw moves. It’s intoxicating.
Felix pulls back a touch, tilting his head down to watch Chan touch himself. He runs his free hand up Chan’s arm, into the baggy sleeve of his t-shirt, and sucks in a breath when it comes to rest on his bicep. “Wow,” Felix says softly.
“Huh?” Chan says, dazed, not quite paying attention.
“You spend a lot of time in the gym, huh?” Felix says dreamily, feeling Chan’s arm flex as he touches himself. “Your arms are so sexy.”
“A-ah,” Chan moans at the praise, still stroking his cock steadily.
“Everything about you is sexy,” Felix drawls in that deep voice. “You’re so sweet and nice but you have this sinful body, makes me wanna corrupt you, teach you how to fuck me just right—”
The imagery makes Chan feel feral. Without thinking, he lurches towards Felix, pressing their lips together messily as he continues to stroke his length. To his credit, Felix takes the unexpected move in his stride, gently taking hold of Chan's jaw as they kiss.
Needless to say, Chan isn't the most experienced kisser, but they work it out just fine. He’s a little over-eager, his kisses wet and messy, but Felix likes it filthy, so he takes everything Chan has to give, and responds with the same and more. The slick slide of wet skin on skin is unfamiliar and delicious, drawing needy gasps and moans from Chan as he continues to get himself off.
At some point, Felix shifts in closer, rocking up onto his knees to get better access to Chan’s mouth, and Chan feels the unmistakable press of the other man’s erection against him. The feeling makes him greedy for more contact, and he places a hand insistently on Felix's waist. Felix responds instantly, breaking the kiss and swinging his knee over Chan's to straddle his lap. He never lets go of Chan's face.
Chan whines; it's so much more intense with Felix on him like this. And the intensity only grows as Felix leans in to press his forehead against Chan's, stroking his hair away from his face with both thumbs.
"I could watch you all day," Felix says.
Chan responds by tipping his chin up to kiss Felix again. He’s getting close, tip-toeing on the edge of bliss, and he’s mindless with it, running on instinct. They kiss until Chan can’t anymore, his mouth dropping open to pant wetly.
Felix’s hand comes to join Chan’s, his little fingers layered over Chan’s hand, over Chan’s cock. The very tips of Felix’s fingers barely reach his second knuckles. Chan groans, his eyes rolling back.
He blinks harshly, desperate to refocus his hazy eyes and remember every detail of this unreal experience. Felix’s free hand runs down from Chan’s head, to his neck, over his chest and stomach. Chan thinks he might have died and gone to heaven as Felix wraps his tiny little hand around the head of his cock, his fingers barely reaching all the way around.
Chan can only look at it for half a second before he explodes. He lets out a long, low whine, his head tipping back as he thrusts up into his and Felix’s hands. His free hand comes up to find the small of Felix’s back, pressing the smaller body into his as he thrusts up instinctively, thighs flexing convulsively.
All the while, Felix keeps his hands moving, encouraging Chan to stroke the length of his cock and gently teasing the head as his hand is coated with thick spurts of cum. He murmurs words of praise in his ear, praising him, calling him beautiful and sexy and incredible until the aftershocks end.
They collapse flat onto the bed, Felix laying half on top of Chan, their legs tangled together. Chan lets go of his cock, letting his arm rest on the bed, as spent as the rest of him. After a moment, Felix’s hips twitch, and he whimpers involuntarily. He’s still rock hard.
“D’you wanna watch me touch myself?” Felix asks, sending a shock of arousal to Chan’s core. Chan’s mouth falls open as he stares at him in surprise, taking in his blushing freckled cheeks. “No pressure,” Felix says, “but you really turned me on.”
Chan wonders if maybe he should offer to help Felix out, but honestly he’s exhausted, and now that the idea’s been planted in his head, he’s keen to see how Felix likes to be touched.
“Yeah,” Chan says, “I want that.” Felix smiles, rolls off Chan and onto his back and pushes his sweatpants down with one hand, freeing his cock. It’s small and cute, like the rest of him, and it looks painfully hard. Out of nowhere, Chan is hit by the desire to make sure he gets it in his mouth before the end of the week.
Now, Chan would normally consider himself a pretty sharp person; he’s an accredited accountant who literally works for a multi-millionaire. But when Felix raises his pretty little hand, still covered in Chan’s cum, and wraps it around his cock, it literally breaks Chan’s mind. Chan thinks it might be the hottest thing he’s ever seen—and that’s no mean feat, seeing as he technically works in the sex industry.
“I literally want to eat you,” Chan says. Then, he registers what just came out of his mouth, and groans, covering his face with his hands as Felix laughs, his light giggle trailing off into a whimper as his hand slips over the head of his cock. “Sorry,” Chan sighs, too blissed out to be properly embarrassed. “I’m literally braindead right now. And you’re so hot. I just wanna make you feel good.”
“What do you wanna do to me?” Felix says, a little breathless. “Besides eat me?”
“Shut up,” Chan whines, throwing his arm out to smack Felix on the thigh. Felix moans at that, shuddering minutely, and Chan sobers up instantly. “It depends,” he says hesitantly, pushing himself up to rest on one elbow so that he can see Felix better. “If this is what turns you on,” he taps Felix’s thigh again, a little closer to his groin, making him whine, “Then I wanna spank you until you cry.”
Woah, where did that come from? Chan thinks. Felix keens though, his hand speeding up where he’s touching himself, so Chan leans into his newfound confidence. “I wanna fuck your pretty little ass, but only once you’re begging for it.”
Felix moans again, fucking into his hand hard and fast. So he likes to beg, Chan muses. Sure, he doesn’t have experience, but he does have knowledge, given his work, and Felix’s specific kinks are starting to fall into place. His grip looks almost uncomfortably tight, but with Chan’s cum spread all over, his cock slips into his fist easily.
“Chan,” he whines brokenly.
“Are you close?” Chan asks. Felix nods rapidly, eyes squeezed shut. “You wanna come?” Felix nods again. “Then beg.”
Felix’s eyes snap open, his brow furrowed pathetically. His gaze finds Chan’s. He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“P-please,” he whispers.
“Please, what?” Chan says meanly, smacking Felix’s thigh again.
“Please let me come,” Felix whines. “I wanna come.” He sniffles a little. Poor baby.
“Not yet,” Chan says abruptly. “You can hold out longer.”
“I can’t,” Felix wails feebly, squeezing his cock hard in his little hand.
“Yes you can,” Chan says. He strokes Felix’s hair gently. “Just a little more.”
Felix whines feebly, sniffing again. Chan spots a tear running down the side of his face. “Oh, sweetheart,” he says. “You’re crying? You want it that bad?”
Felix nods miserably, and Chan fakes a put-upon sigh.
“Okay then, since you’ve been so good,” he says. “You can come, honey.”
Felix can’t even gasp out a thank you before he’s tumbling over the edge, sweet moans and whimpers dripping from his lips as he comes all over his sweater. He’s gorgeous, from his pretty crying face to his toes curled in pleasure.
When Felix comes back to himself, he looks up at Chan, curiosity colouring his features.
“If you’re a virgin, how are you so good at sex?” He asks bluntly, without suspicion.
“Sorry?” Chan sputters. “I didn’t do anything!”
“Yes you did,” Felix says. “You dommed the fuck out of me at the end there.”
“Ah,” Chan says, scratching his neck awkwardly. “I mean, that was just talking, not exactly sex.”
“Chan, talking is literally the hardest part of sex,” Felix insists. “And you’re, like, crazy good at it. How come?”
“Oh, I guess… I guess I learnt it from Sana?” Chan suggests. “I stay in my office when she has clients, you know, for safety reasons, and I guess her voice just… carries…”
It’s a fair point. He’s pretty sure some of the phrases he said were quoted from Sana verbatim. Felix breaks out into laughter, then, and Chan follows, at the pure ridiculousness of the situation.
“That’s crazy,” Felix chuckles, “You’ve basically spent years training under the most legendary dominatrix in Korea. And we’re getting paid to play with you.” He laughs again, his eyes slitting.
“Was it that big of a deal?” Chan asks, bashful.
“Chan, you have no idea,” Felix says. “I think that was the best first time I’ve had with anyone. I still have no idea how you nailed down my kinks so fast. Wait,” he squints, “Did you ask one of the boys?”
“No…?”
“Yeah, you’re right, you’re way too shy to ask.”
“Hey!” Chan protests. “I’m not that shy.”
“Chan, you could barely say the word ‘sex’ earlier.”
“...Touché.”
They chat for a while longer, and at some point Chan’s stomach rumbles.
“You hungry? Was my picnic not enough?” Felix teases.
“Well I didn’t get to finish my cookie, thanks to someone,” Chan fires back.
“Oh, sorry,” Felix jokes. “Next time I wanna fuck you I’ll just keep it to myself, hmm?”
“Next time?” Chan says softly.
“Well, yeah,” Felix says. “If you want. That, just now, was awesome. I can’t let you leave without at least trying to get in your pants again.”
“Oh,” Chan says.
So Felix doesn’t just see him as a job, a guy he’s being paid to teach. He wasn’t just flattering him when he gave all those compliments. He’s actually interested. He actually… likes Chan.
Huh.
How about that.