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It had happened by accident.
Doing a live so late at night isn’t really a big deal. Of course, naturally, more and more people get attracted. Jeonghan and Chan immediately joining in and they’re all talking and bickering about anything and nothing at the same time.
It isn’t a surprise when their commotion ends up waking some of the other members.
They all pretend not to notice.
Mainly out of respect for the members in case they prefer to remain conspicuous. From the corner of Seungkwan’s eyes, he can see Seungcheol looking groggy as usual, his hair fluffed up, there’s marks on his face which indicts a satisfying sleep.
There’s really no indication or foretelling moment that would have prepared Seungkwan when he hears the deep rumble of a voice.
“Get up.”
Seungkwan had unconsciously reacted—the awed sound leaving his mouth before he can control himself. It also didn’t help that Jeonghan had shot him a knowing expression. The sound is raw and deep and well...it goes straight to the pit of Seungkwan's stomach and perhaps a little lower. In an attempt to hide his painfully obvious reaction, Seungkwan had sipped into his drink. He certainly hoped that no one had caught his reaction to that but the idea that his reaction just got caught on camera makes him burn even harder.
The rest of the live goes as normally as Seungkwan tries to make it seem.
Scooting over to make room for all four of them but he's painfully aware of their leader sitting behind on the couch just behind Jeonghan, his ears perking up everytime he hears Seungcheol speak but never quite directly interacting with the oldest. No one seems to notice his lack of interaction with Seungcheol which he's very thankful for. Eventually, the live does end and Seungkwan scurries to his room with an excuse that probably didn't make any sense but no one stops him anyways.
(If they did, Seungkwan didn't hear).
Sure it isn’t normal to be rewinding the live on his phone on max volume with his noise-cancelling earphones neatly plugged into his ears, his body hidden underneath his comforters. Watching and rewatching that particular moment where Seungcheol had entered their live just through his voice.
The sudden interest he has is baffling. He's never quite reacted like this before—after all he's known and heard Seungcheol for most of his life.
It’s embarrassing how much he likes it.
How turned on he is just from hearing his voice rumbled. There's a rawness in Seungcheol's voice that paints a very vivid and appealing image that involves naked bodies in Seungkwan's head.
So yes, maybe he did spend a couple of hours watching the clip over and over again. Spend a couple of hours rewatching his own reaction to Seungcheol's voice appearance. He is a little ashamed of the sound that came out of his own mouth during the live. His only saving grace is the fact that both Chan and Jeonghan had both reacted too. Though, smiling could hardly count as a reaction but at least that’s better than nothing so Seungkwan will take it.
He's not sure how many times he’s watched the same part before he gave into the intrusive thought that's been plaguing his mind.
Seungkwan's sliding his hands under his boxers, wrapping around his unsurprisingly hard cock. He manages to suppress a whine as he strokes himself, carefully tracing over the veins running up and down his cock.
He really tries not to think of Seungcheol but it's kind of his fault anyways so Seungkwan should be allowed to. After mulling over it a little longer, he thinks of Seungcheol.
Choi Seungcheol and his stupid gummy smile, his stupidly long and thick lashes and his stupid and unbearingily hot voice. Seungkwan's stomach curls pleasantly as he strokes himself a little faster. His mind racing remembering that Seungcheol's hands are a little bigger, rougher with traces of callouses running over the bridge of his inner hands—Seungkwan can't replicate that, his hands are smoother and thinner.
The sound of Seungcheol's voice is on repeat.
Blasting through his ear drums and Seungkwan shudders, biting down on his lower lip as he strokes faster, tightening his grip on his leaking cock. Seungcheol's voice makes him dizzy, his brain melting into a mushy mess. He kind of wished Seungcheol had said more. Had said something borderline not safe for work. But, beggers couldn't be choosers so Seungkwan will take this. Clearly, it's enough because he's fucking into his hand faster, tightening his grip as he bit into his pillow to stop himself from making too much noise (Jeonghan had always been a light sleeper; god forbid if he walks in on Seungkwan getting off on their leader’s video). Still, the horrific scenario isn't enough to stop Seungkwan from thrusting into his own fist feverishly, tears pricking his eyes as he moans into his pillow, his stomach tightening until he finds himself spilling hot and hard all over his hand—his ears ringing loudly to the sweet sound of Seungcheol’s raw voice.
His high comes down as fast as it came. The sudden realization that he just got off on Seungcheol’s voice is haunting. Although, there's a small part of his brain that's pleasantly pleased with his actions tonight.
Fuck.
He really is the worse.
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It's supposed to be a one-time thing.
Seungkwan had been able to rationalize it very easily, it had been a spur of the moment. Maybe he's been so fucking pent up that his irrational brain took over and decided that Seungcheol would be the best jerking material.
It made sense.
He's been so busy with comebacks, solo appearances, photoshoots and many other events that he didn't really have enough time for himself.
And sure, he might still jump every now and then whenever Seungcheol spoke to him directly but it wasn't like he was popping a boner. Everything had been good up until now. Seungkwan's staring at his phone, the caller ID flashing before his eyes and of course, it had to be Seungcheol.
There had been no reason for Seungcheol to call, really.
Seungkwan knows their leader. He always called for either one of two reasons—one, he was lonely and is trying to get one of the members to hang out with him or two, he was completely wasted and wanted to be lulled to sleep. There's a moment where he doesn't want to pick up but the thought of having to deal with a sulky Seungcheol overpowers everything.
By the third ring, Seungkwan picks up.
"Seungkwan-ah," Seungcheol purrs.
Seungkwan stiffens. Blanks out for a second because no, nope. The sound did not shoot straight to his dick. It didn't. This isn't happening. It's all a dream. He's definitely not staring at his crotch growing semi-hard right now in real time.
"Hyung," Seungkwan replies, winching at his whiny tone.
"'m lonely."
So, it's option two.
"Are you drunk?" Seungkwan asks, biting his lower lip.
It's taking all of his self-control not to slide his hands into his pants. But it's becoming difficult with how low and rough Seungcheol sounds through the phone. It's even worse now that the older man was drunk as fuck.
"No?" Seungcheol says before continuing. "Maybe. I just drank a little. Not too much."
Seungkwan tries to think of happy things. Good things. Something that would kill his boner. But even that isn't helping when he has his phone pressed right up against his ear and it sounds like Seungcheol's whispering right into them. The blood rushes to his ears, thrumming loudly.
"You're such a liar, hyung," Seungkwan says, voice straining. "You never drink just a little. It's always none at all or drink until you're pissed drunk."
Seungcheol chuckles.
"A...are you home? Did you get home safe and sound?" Seungkwan asks.
Seungcheol hums, and then a moan slips through the phone. Seungkwan knows that Seungcheol had just dropped onto his bed but even that isn't enough to stop Seungkwan from freezing and letting his mind run a mile. Shit. That sounded too real. Too good to pass. Fuck it. It's not like Seungcheol's going to remember. He sounded drunk as fuck and Seungkwan can be discreet. He's good at it. He carefully slips his hand under his pants, tugging them over his hips and he's morified to see his erect cock standing proudly.
"Are you in bed, hyung?" Seungkwan groans out when he wraps a hand around his cock.
Seungcheol replies with a grunt. "'sleepy...kwan-ah."
Seungkwan lets out a slow exhale, breathy and shaky. Biting down a moan that's threatening to leave his lips as he strokes himself, using his own precum to make the slide easier. He's close. It's humiliating just how fast he can feel himself getting closer to his orgasm.
"You s-should s-sleep," Seungkwan stutters, moving his hand faster.
"I will," Seungcheol murmurs. "Just wanted to hear you..."
His tone dipping, falling another octave lower—is that even fucking possible? Clearly, it is and Seungkwan can hear it loud and clear and fuck, does it do things to him.
Apparently, he's not the only enjoying it because his cock is twitching hard in his hands now. Seungkwan's cheeks burn as his breath hitched. Squeezing his eyes shut as the pressure builds in his stomach, forcing his jaw tight, reducing his breaths to hitching hiccups until his rhythm falls apart, his cock pulsating hard, spilling pathetically all over his hands with a shudder.
His heart flips when he realize how loud he's been. The silence loud and clear over the phone.
With shaky hands, he pressed his phone against his ears. "Seungcheol-hyung?"
Seungkwan releases the breathe he didn't know he was holding in when he hears Seungcheol snores. He ends the call with a soft and shy 'good night'. Twenty minutes post-orgasm is when he finally comes down from his afterglow faintly embarrassed, but also painfully aware of his newfound problem.
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Seungcheol having a deep voice is a known fact across everyone—members, fans and non-fans alike.
But the thing is Seungkwan’s used to hearing Seungcheol. What Seungkwan isn’t used to however, is the intense reaction he gets just from hearing Seungcheol talk. He's not exactly sure what happened but ever since that live and phonecall, something in his brain must have been switched on because he can no longer function like a normal human being without popping a fucking boner.
It’s becoming impossible and embarrassing.
More than once, he’s had to ask other members to repeat what Seungcheol had said—he’d rather not risk asking their leader and find himself zoning out again with a surprise boner.
So maybe…it is becoming somewhat of a problem.
Seungkwan will admit that much at least.
What he won’t admit is the fact that he’s sort of, kind of began to avoid their leader. It’s not like he’s doing it on purpose. He's trying to keep it as subtle as possible. Always making sure that there's at least a member or two…or sometimes eleven members between him and Seungcheol.
It works.
No one suspects a thing and Seungkwan supposes that’s the good thing about having a lot of members. No one notices anything but honestly, he should have seen it coming. Seungcheol’s the type to get lonely and keep tabs on all the members—that includes keeping tabs on Seungkwan as well.
So really, he should have seen it coming.
(He just refused to see it until it hit him in the face).
“Oh wait for me, Chan!” Seungkwan squeaks out.
He's shoving everything into his bag when he notice everyone except Seungcheol had left the practice room. Much to his relief, Chan does pause for a bit. But it immediately comes crashing down when Seungcheol speaks up, an easy smile on his face. But his smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Go first, Chan. I want to talk with Seungkwan for a bit.”
There’s a bit of hesitation in Chan’s movement. That’s good, Seungkwan thinks, shooting their maknae a pleading expression. It's clear that Chan is worried that both his hyungs might be fighting with each other. Seungkwan will take that misunderstanding as long as it saves his ass. When Chan opens his mouth to say something, he’s cut off by Seungcheol once again, repeating himself more firmly this time. His voice dipping low enough to cause both Seungkwan and Chan to clamp their mouths shut. It's annoying that the firmness in his voice is another turn-on which Seungkwan quickly pretends not to notice although his dick is entertaining this new discovery.
Chan shoots him a glance and Seungkwan resigns himself to his fate because there's no arguing their way out of this.
"Go," Seungkwan murmurs softly.
Once Chan closes the door behind him, Seungkwan’s brain starts to think. Running on high energy to think of something to get out of this situation.
“Oh hyung, I forgot—I didn’t feed Bookkeu today,” Seungkwan mutters softly, gazing anywhere and everywhere else. “I should go. We can talk later.”
“Seungkwan-ah.”
Seungkwan stiffen, his body shuddering at the deep tonation of his name. The sound goes straight somewhere it shouldn’t.
"Bookkeu is back in Jeju."
The younger man pouts at being caught. He should have known that Seungcheol would also know his dog's business as well.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Seungcheol points out, there's a tiny sulky tone attached to his voice.
Seungkwan kind of feels bad now. Kind of being the key word. He didn't mean to avoid or hurt Seungcheol but he couldn't exactly see how to justify popping a boner in the middle of a conversation.
"Kwan-ah?"
He swallows hard. “What do you mean, hyung? I haven’t been avoiding you." Seungkwan winch at the high pitchiness of his voice. He cleared his throat gently before continuing. "We see each other all the time.”
There’s a small pause.
“We do,” Seungcheol admits and Seungkwan almost feels a sense of relief which immediately comes crashing down when the older man continues. “Usually there’s always another member around. I missed you. We should hang out.”
“O-oh,” Seungkwan stutters. “Sure. If that’s all, I should really get going—Hansol’s expecting me.”
“Hansol’s not expecting you. He’s going out with Jisoo today.”
Fuck.
“Damn, Hansol must have forgotten to tell me.”
There’s an awkward silence growing, Seungkwan shifts between his feet, still avoiding any eye contact with the older man. There’s a deep sigh that sends an unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach because it feels like Seungkwan’s disappointed him.
“So, you are avoiding me.”
It’s not a question. It’s a statement.
“Seungkwan, did I do something wrong?”
“No!” Seungkwan exclaims.
“Then why aren’t you looking at me?”
Seungkwan can feel himself crumble. Shit. The thing is with being a part of SEVENTEEN, they’ve all learned to be honest with one another. But it’s still embarrassing to admit what he’s been going through. He fiddles with the ring on his pinky and for once, Seungcheol’s patient with him.
“It’s—well, um, your voice—”
“My voice?”
Seungkwan squeeze his eyes shut, his cheeks burning from embarrassment as he quietly admits, squeezing his eyes shut because he doesn’t want to see nor hear the disgust in his leader’s face and voice.
“I like it.” Seungkwan squeaks out, his eyes stinging painfully.
He can hear the older man shuffling, feels a pair of arms curl around his waist. Seungcheol’s chin resting on his shoulders. He's so close that Seungkwan can't help himself when he slumps into the older man's arms. It's all going good until Seungcheol had the audacity to whisper into his ears.
“Is that so?” Seungcheol purrs lightly.
Shit.
Goddamn it.
Think good things. Think of Bookkeu. Think of mom. His sisters.
“Just my voice?”
Seungkwan tries not to whimper when he feels Seungcheol’s hands linger dangerously low, just teasing over the dip of his hips. His eyes flick to the mirror and he can see just how compromising their position is. His back pressed firmly against Seungcheol's chest, his fingers tugging and playing with the strings of Seungkwan's pants.
The thing is there's an unspoken agreement between all the members. After all they were normal men who can get pent up and once in a while, certain members will get together just to find sort of release.
But still outing himself for having a voice kink is just plain embarrassing. Though the slight bulge in his pants is saying otherwise.
“Kwan-ah,” Seungcheol growls, nipping at his earlobe.
“Hyung,” Seungkwan whines—it comes out breathier than he expected, his tone is visibly sulky, but he can’t help it. “It’s embarrassing enough to pop a boner just from hearing your voice. You don’t have to tease me about it.”
"'m not teasing."
Seungcheol’s planting a single kiss on his neck. Seungkwan shivers at the sensation, a quiet moan leaving his lips when Seungcheol leaves a light reddish hickey behind. It's agonizing and should be illegal seeing how slow Seungcheol moves. He's giving plenty of time for Seungkwan to pull away if he needed. Finally, Seungcheol does pull Seungkwan's pants down, letting the material collect around the younger man's ankles.
Their breathes collectively growing heavier.
Seungkwan can't stop the pitiful moan that escapes his lips when Seungcheol finally wraps a hand around Seungkwan’s painfully erect cock. Seungcheol’s hands are rougher than his, a testament to his constant time at the gym. It's exactly what Seungkwan had imagined. Actually, it might be even better. It feels good. Seungkwan's stomach twisting in a pleasant way, each stroke comes with a painful drag of his callous hand. The feeling of being touched overwhelms him, Seungkwan’s cock leaking and twitching pathetically as Seungcheol sweetly murmurs degrading things into his ears.
"When did it start?" Seungcheol hums, tugging at the head roughly.
Seungkwan kneads at the shock of pain which quickly disappears under the sweet pleasure.
"Was it during that live?" Seungcheol asks, stroking a little faster.
Seungkwan nods. Ashamed. Tears collecting at the corner of his eyes, threatening to fall but not quite yet.
"I saw you. I can't believe you popped a boner during that live."
"I-I d-didn't," Seungkwan denies, shaking his head.
He's wrapping a hand around Seungcheol's wrist to ease his pace. Seungcheol chuckles, low and rough. The sound spiking straight to Seungkwan's cock that leaked even harder. "You did. I rewatched the video. I saw you pop a boner. I bet the fans noticed too. I can't believe you'd expose yourself as a slut online."
Fuck.
It's so unfair how the words are shooting straight to his cock. Having Seungcheol’s lips pinned to his ears, murmuring filthy things—it’s different from just listening to the video.
"Don't think I didn't hear you over the phone too," Seungcheol comments lightly.
Seungkwan freezes, his ears burning hot. Body tensing from Seungcheol's words.
"Y...you heard me?" Seungkwan whispers.
Seungcheol kissed his nape, meeting his eyes through the mirror. They're dark. Dilated. Carefully watching Seungkwan like a prey and it leaves a burning sensation behind. Seungkwan's throat grows dry as he flicks his eyes away.
"Loud and clear," Seungcheol replies. "You don't know how hard it was to control myself. If I had any less self-control, I would have booked it to your place and fucked you that night."
Seungkwan's breathed hitched.
“Like that, Kwan-ah?” Seungcheol asks, chuckling when Seungkwan's cock twitched in his hold. The older man's stroking a little faster, smearing precum to make the slide easier. Seungcheol's other hand slipping to cup Seungkwan’s face, forcing him to look into the mirror. “Look at yourself, naughty princess getting off on my voice.”
Seungkwan’s heart flips, his ears blaring loudly. His cheeks burning so hard that he almost feels feverish. He can see the redness start to spread down to his chest. His cheeks are so red that he almost looks like a cherry. His cock is leaking so much that it starts to pool on the floor.
He’s never been so turned on before.
“I didn’t take you for a slut,” Seungcheol growls. “Getting off on my voice—is that what I am? Just a toy for you get off with?”
Seungkwan shakes his head, babbling something that even he couldn't understand but he hopes he can get his point across that no, Seungcheol isn't that. He's much more than that. Perhaps whatever he's saying isn't enough because he can hear Seungcheol click his tongue as he thumbs at the slit.
Seungcheol's biting at his neck, leaving behind phantom marks that only leave Seungkwan wanting more and more and Seungcheol keeps giving until Seungkwan sobs at the sharp pain—his knees buckling. The older man’s stroking faster and Seungkwan reach out, wrapping both his hands around Seungcheol’s wrist in a pathetic attempt to loosen grip and slow his pace but that doesn’t stop the older man. Instead, Seungcheol tightens his hold and strokes even faster.
“W-wait, hyung,” Seungkwan sobs, his entire body's shaking from the overwhelming stimulation. “I-it’s too much.”
Seungkwan’s knees growing weak at the onslaught of pleasure. Eventually, his knees give up but Seungcheol’s easily holding him up with one hand on his throat, pressing teasingly but never quite choking him.
"P-please, please--oh god," Seungkwan babbles, the tension in his stomach growing from pleasure to something painful. "Hyung, hyung, hyung--pease let me cum--"
Seungcheol latches onto his ears, biting hard enough to push Seungkwan over. His voice growling harshly. "'Cum for me, princess.”
Seungkwan does.
Follows the command like an obedient dog. He spills all over Seungcheol’s hand, his cock throbbing and pulsating, large and hot tears rolling down his face as needy high-pitched cries leave his lips. Seungcheol coos at him—calling him a ‘good princess’ through it all and he doesn’t stop stroking. He continues to milk Seungkwan, ignoring the way Seungkwan's nails bite half-moons into his wrists in a pathetic attempt to stop Seungcheol's hands.
By the end of it, Seungkwan’s shaking, kneeling on the floor in his own puddle of cum. His skin is scorching, and his thighs trembling. When he sees his reflection—it's quite a sight seeing his own face wet with tears, red cheeks blotchy and his clothes utterly ruined.
When Seungkwan finally collects himself, Seungcheol’s praising him.
It's like getting a whiplash. Getting degraded and then praised—the switch inbetween makes his head float. But he chases after the warmth, lets Seungcheol kiss the tears away before pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.
“You did so good for me, princess,” Seungcheol praises.
It takes Seungkwan another minute to recollect himself, burying his face into Seungcheol’s thigh. “Thank you…Oppa.”
Seungcheol paused.
“Shit,” Seungcheol groans out, his fingers digging into Seungkwan’s head. He nudged the younger man until they’re staring at each other. “We’re really doing this here?”
Seungkwan licks his lips, glancing at the bulge hidden underneath Seungcheol's grey sweats. He swallows hard, fluttering his lashes the way he knows would have his members tripping over their feet and pulls his lips into a small pursue.
“You don’t want to?”
“Soonyoung’s going to kill us,” Seungcheol says.
Yet his words doesn’t match his actions. Seungkwan let the older man redirect him towards his crotch. Thumb tugging down the edge of his sweatpants to release his aching cock.