Archive of Our Own

It starts with a missed alarm.

It’s not often that Changbin sleeps through his alarms, especially on a gym day. One of the (very few) cons there are to having their own rooms now is no one is there to throw a pillow at him when that does happen. In hindsight, Changbin would be happy if the day’s problems had started and stopped there. 

Because not only does he wake up far too late to do his usual routine, he can’t find his favorite shorts, stubs his toe on the way out the door, and spills his hastily-made protein shake all over his shoes. When he digs around his bag for extra socks he realizes he left them on his bed. It’s like the world has it out for him and the sun is barely up. He immediately wants to crawl into Chan’s lap and whine about it, but now there’s an anxious energy making the hair on his arms bristle. He takes it out on the punching bag for a bit before deciding the scuffed synthetic leather and his wrapped knuckles have had more than enough.

Changbin is still incredibly wound up, though. Like all of that extra energy from his agitation went nowhere, which in turn just agitates him further. Packing his things, he skulks back to the apartment after the most unsatisfying workout of all time hoping to go back to bed and sleep off his shit morning. Instead, he finds an awake and alert Hyunjin standing in their living room in his practice clothes. Changbin feels his eyelid start to twitch.

“I thought practice started up again tomorrow,” he says, lower lip jutting out in a rather pathetic frown. 

Hyunjin coos, clearly sympathetic as he crosses the room and pulls Changbin into a hug even though they both know there’s nothing to be done. They’re long overdue for a dance practice and their choreographer will throw a fit of epic proportions if anyone skips out after such a generous break…

But Changbin was sure it wasn’t until tomorrow.

“Sorry, Binnie,” Hyunjin says, though there’s not anything to apologize for. He swoops down and kisses his grimace away. “It’s just a two hour practice and that’s it. We can get boba with Channie hyung and Felix after, okay? And we can make Channie hyung pay.”

Changbin manages a small smile, picturing Chan pretending to be annoyed by them whining for their hyung to buy them fancy drinks when they all know they have plenty of their own money—all while pulling out his wallet, of course.

“Promise?” Changbin says cutely, blinking up at Hyunjin with an overly exaggerated pout. Hyunjin barks out a loud, slightly obnoxious laugh that makes Changbin’s heart swell.

“Promise!”

Although dance practice starts with their choreographer/dance coach being nearly an hour late, it does wonders for the part of Changbin that was missing a good morning workout. The day no longer feels completely ruined as he throws his all into the choreography, beaming at the praise he receives from both their coach and the other members at his hard work. It’s during a water break that he suddenly feels someone wrap around him like a koala, pining his arms to his sides. He knows exactly who it is even though they’re still mostly hidden just out of his line of sight.

“Channie.” Changbin squirms, but Chan’s hold is as strong as ever. He could definitely fight his way out of his hyung’s grip, but that would mean lying about how much he likes it. Here, where there are no cameras (today, at least), Changbin won’t hesitate to pull Chan closer. Chan comes eagerly, giggling as he snuggles into Changbin’s side, nosing very purposefully over the ticklish part of his armpit. They screech like schoolchildren and collapse in a pile of limbs onto the linoleum, completely oblivious to the six fond expressions pointed their way.

“Changbinnie, come over tonight,” Chan says—demands, really—slightly muffled where he still has his face pressed against the plush softness of Changbin’s chest. “Jeongin-ah is leaving me all alone to watch something with Felix and Seungmin. Hyung will cook! Please~!”

Chan hardly has to beg. Changbin plants a big, wet kiss on his cheek, making him yelp and cringe away, but now Changbin has the upper hand and fully pins Chan to the floor with his upper body.

“You had me at hyung will cook~” Changbin sing-songs, spinning so he’s nearly straddling Chan, one of his hyung’s legs slightly bent from trying to prevent Changbin from completely laying on him.

Then, Chan gets this look in his eyes. The look. The look that means he’s planning on annoying someone to death and he’s found his target, upturned lips and blown-out pupils pointed squarely at Changbin. And Changbin could list his possible expectations of Chan’s next move, but he doesn’t think it would include Chan carefully moving his knee upwards and aiming for Changbin’s crotch with deadly accuracy. Changbin has to duck his head into the crook of Chan’s neck to prevent a moan from drawing unwanted attention, getting an intoxicating whiff of cologne and sweat for it. He can feel the way Chan’s face splits into what is undoubtedly a shit-eating grin.

“I’ll take care of you, tonight,” Chan whispers in English while subtly shifting his leg, making Changbin shiver. The temptation to grab Chan’s knee and fold him in half in front of everyone is strong. He probably would, if their dancing coach wasn’t still in the room. “Hyunjin told me you had a bad morning. And you’ve been mean-mugging everyone all practice.”

Honestly, he had mostly moved past it, despite what his face might be saying. It’s easy to forget things like bad mornings when he’s with Chan. But he’s not about to say no to a night of being taken care of by his oldest hyung.

Later, while standing outside of his favorite boba shop, now permanently closed thanks to the health department, all he can think about is dimpled smiles and homemade jjajangmyeon.

But the universe isn’t quite done with Changbin yet. 

The rest of his day is somehow worse. Everything he touches seems to go horribly wrong in some way, from the company car he’s being driven home in breaking down on the way to discovering he hadn’t saved something he’d spent hours working on, to their hot water not working for his much-needed shower. Standing motionless under the ice cold spray, he wonders if he’s done something to piss off a powerful god. Or a witch.

His thumbs are still damp and wrinkly when he texts Chan. His stomach is also growling. He hasn’t even properly eaten yet and it’s approaching late afternoon. Dammit.

(🐷)

Bang Chan 

(🐷)

I need you

Shit. He accidentally hit send too early.

(🐷)

Your food*

Chan starts typing something, then stops, and Changbin realizes how that might sound.

(🐷)

I want you too baby I mean I’m just fucking starving. Today sucked.

Changbin stares at his phone until Chan responds in the form of a voice message. Chan likes to send them occasionally just to moan into the microphone and later feign ignorance, claiming he was just stretching. Changbin hits play. He can’t stop himself from smiling, just a little bit, when he hears exactly that along with the sound of Chan shuffling around on his bed.

“Then come over. I miss you. I know you had a bad day and hyung wants to take care of you.” Chan’s voice is raspy, low, and close to the speaker. “Innie went home with Felix and Seungmin so I’ve been here all by my lonesome. Do you want hyung to cook dinner? Hehe. Hehehe.”

(🐷)

(🐺)

HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

(🐺)

See you soon ♥️

Chan stops responding after that, which can only mean he’s fully concentrated on cooking. Changbin drags himself out of bed, not bothering to change from the tank top and basketball shorts he put on after his shower. All he has to do is step into a pair of slides and he’s out the door, down the hallway leading to the Bang-Yang dorm with a fluttering heart. 

The day is far from over, and with his luck something was hiding in the corner waiting to ruin a simple walk to one of his boyfriend’s apartments. It’s a relief when the familiar door finally comes into view. Changbin realizes he’s trembling.

He considers pretending he’s fine, for Chan.

It’s not that he’s a bad liar, but he leads with face and he’s very aware that his mouth is still twisted into a deep scowl. He finds himself inexplicably stopping just outside of Chan’s apartment, the tips of his fingers ghosting over the doorknob.

It’s just that…his day is actually over. All he has to worry about now is how many bowls of noodles he can eat and whether or not Chan wants to do some partner stretches to work out the dull ache settling in his hamstrings. Oh, and what Chan exactly meant by taking care of him. Yet a prickly-skin feeling has followed him here, and he can’t shake the thought that something else horrible is waiting for him behind this door.

The image of Chan standing at the stove wearing an apron over minimal clothing and smiling brightly as he serves Changbin his favorite food is replaced by jjajangmyeon splattered over every inch of the kitchen. What if the pot exploded? What if the meat has gone bad? What if it’s the most terrible thing Changbin’s ever tasted and he has to tell his precious hyung that he no longer likes his cooking? What if—?

“Changbin?”

Ah. The door’s been opened.

Chan is standing close to the threshold and he is, in fact, wearing only a Pokémon apron over a pair of black boxer briefs. Maybe a bit of makeup. His hair is freshly washed and starting to dry at the ends, curling upwards in delicate loops. All Changbin wants to do is hug him, so he does, wordlessly bringing Chan into his arms and walking them inside before closing the door behind him. He presses his nose to Chan’s collarbone and inhales obnoxiously loud, making Chan giggle. Changbin is feeling lighter already.

Chan moves to separate them, but stills when Changbin doesn’t follow. 

“Changbin, are you okay?”

It’s the first time he’s been asked that today, he realizes. Changbin doesn’t have an answer so he doesn’t give one, reaching up to bury a hand in Chan’s damp curls. He breathes in the smell of peach shampoo, a home-cooked meal, the two mahogany and teakwood candles that Chan has lit by on the kitchen table…and things slowly but surely start to feel a little more right.

“Ah…okay, Binnie,” Chan nods. Understanding without words. Chan has told the world more than once that Changbin is the only one who truly gets him on a fundamental level, and the feeling is very mutual. They’ve spent years as each other’s safe spaces and that’s how Changbin feels with Chan in his arms and the rest of the world outside their little bubble, unimportant.

Soft lips are suddenly being pressed to the corners of his mouth. Changbin indulges the urge to dip Chan dramatically under a hailstorm of wet kisses, bringing them both nearly to the damn floor. His heart sprouts wings and jumps out of his throat at Chan’s squeaky, wall-shaking laughter.

If only Chan knew how much he does for Changbin just being like this. Being himself.

Above them something beeps and Chan gasps before wiggling away to turn the stove’s heat down. Changbin unapologetically ogles his boyfriend’s ass as he goes, admiring the dimples marking his lower back, sitting pretty under the bowtied strings of the apron. Changbin knows from experience that they’re the perfect size and shape to fit the pads of his thumbs. The only thing that stops him from testing his theory anyway is Chan cutely fussing around his pots and pans.

Dinner is especially delicious, meticulously arranged in bowls and brought to him where he sits at the kitchen table. The lights are down, soft lo-fi plays from a nearby speaker, and the love of his life is bringing him a helping of his favorite food. Changbin makes his satisfaction with the whole thing known with a series of deep groans and happy rumbling while he chews, shooting Chan a faux-annoyed look when the older man pokes at his side and says he really looks and sounds like dwaekki right now.

A few bites in Chan asks if Changbin would like to talk about his day. Normally he would jump at the chance to go on a bitchy rant after a bad day, but something about the atmosphere right now is almost sacred. He feels no need to interrupt it, or to revisit all of those negative feelings when the most important thing to him right now is having a quiet night with his hyung.

…And how fluffy Chan’s hair gets when it dries, before the stylists can get their hands on it. It’s gotten not only healthier but longer in the past year, reminding Changbin of the early days. It feels a little bittersweet. But mostly sweet.

Changbin simply shakes his head and Chan doesn’t push, going back to his meal with an affirmative hum.

A comfortable silence falls over them as they eat. Changbin closes his eyes, taking a moment to absorb it all. When Changbin finally opens his eyes Chan is much, much closer, having moved his chair to lean towards him as closely as possible without making a peep. It’s hard to resist kissing the lips that are now just inches from his own, but this is one of the many little games they play. A game that either of them are happy to win or lose, but one they will always play to the best of their ability—and when it comes to Chan, Changbin plays to win.

Chan is often the first to fold and this time is no different, the older man cackling as he turns his head away first. Changbin admires Chan’s scrunched nose and crinkled eyes with a smirk.

But the moment is over quickly, and when Chan looks back, his expression is much different. Eyelids heavy, mouth slightly agape, blush high on his cheeks. “Changbin, can I…?”

Not for the first time, Changbin notices that Chan is wearing mascara. He becomes lost looking at a clump holding two lashes together, because the alternative is becoming lost in the multitude of possibilities on how exactly Chan could finish that sentence—

“Can I give you a massage? Felix’s been teaching me how.” Chan asks, looking hopeful. It’s not quite what Changbin thought he would hear, but while he feels much better from his emotional rollercoaster of a day, his muscles still ache and a massage sounds fucking amazing right now. He answers by way of excitedly scooping up their dirty dishes and depositing them in the sink before Chan can do it himself.

“Alright, big guy. Just lay on the couch for me, either on your back or your stomach. Whatever’s most…” Chan pulls his apron over his head, revealing the hard-won body Changbin loves so much. “Comfortable.”

Changbin strips down to his boxers and flops onto his stomach because the image of looking up at Chan on top of him while getting his tits fondled makes him dizzy.

Baby steps.

Changbin should have known, but it turns out it doesn’t matter even a little bit that his cock is pinned between his own body and the couch or that he can’t see Chan’s face. He concludes Felix has been practicing sexy massage magic and is teaching Chan the same, because how else can he explain the way Chan’s hands feel dancing along his shoulder blades.

His back.

His thighs. 

Changbin’s cock fills out embarrassingly fast, right as Chan rests his hands just under the swell of his ass, squeezing the thick flesh there with a noise of approval. Changbin sees no reason at all not to roll his hips back into Chan’s waiting palms. His breathing picks up speed when Chan accepts the invitation and moves to grab his cheeks in a bruising grip.

As much as Changbin would like to stay like this, his dick feels trapped and is starting to throb in a more painful than pleasurable way. It’s easy enough to turn over, ignoring Chan’s squawk of protest as he settles them in a better position. Changbin’s favorite, actually. They take a few moments to stare at each other in the dim light of the tiny living room.

“I want to take care of you, Binnie,” Chan says softly. Pale, veiny hands paw at honeyed lovehandles. “How can I take care of you tonight?”

Even though his bad day is truly all but forgotten, Changbin is just as tired as he was when he first walked through the door. Though Chan would undoubtedly ride him while Changbin did nothing but look up, he wants something different. He wants to lay back back on the couch, a pillow under his head and Chan between his legs.

“On your knees. Something soft and slow, maybe. I just…want to look at you, cum down your throat, and go to bed for the next week.”

Chan happily lowers himself to the floor, an unflinching gaze glued to Changbin’s body as he sits up and spreads his legs. Just wide enough for Chan to insert himself and zero in on what is now at eye level.

“Hm, what’s this?” Chan asks, voice pitched up with that cutesy faux-innocence he likes to use when he’s up to no good. Changbin has the sudden urge to put him in a headlock, but Chan stops that line of thinking short when he gropes Changbin’s cock over his boxers. “Felix didn’t tell me this would happen.”

“Yes,” Changin hisses. “Yes he did. He probably demonstrated it on you then sucked your dick after.”

Chan lets out a quick, high-pitched hum. “Actually, he ate me out.”

Changbin scoffs. “You are a menace. How doesn’t the world see it?”

Chan starts with a few kisses along Changbin’s bulge before gently tugging down the underwear still between him and his prize. Chan has always loved Changbin’s cock, on the shorter side but thick and fat with hot, heavy balls sitting so perfectly pretty and round. He stops to admire it even as Changbin props himself up so Chan can get him fully naked. But the boxers don’t make it past his knees before Chan is wrapping his mouth around the swollen cockhead now before him, simultaneously flattening his tongue to lap at the underside.

It is soft and slow, exactly what Changbin asked for, but he’s incredibly pent up from his day. That’s his excuse for bucking his hips anyway, surprising and accidentally gagging Chan, who simply throws his head back and laughs before returning to the task at hand when Changbin nods.

Changbin once again finds himself forgetting every little thing that made his day so shitty. And God, does Chan make it easy to forget. Full lips stretch to their limit around his girth, saliva pooling at the corners of that heavenly mouth as Chan expertly takes Changbin’s entire length in one long, drawn-out motion. The only reason Changbin doesn’t immediately spill down his throat is the long fingers that have found their way around the base of his cock, barely able to keep the denied orgasm at bay.

Chan slides off his dick, dragging his tongue along the underside and circling the tip before settling back on his haunches. He looks particularly proud, even as Changbin scruffs him like an unruly kitten and drags him back down. Chan goes, but turns to the side and—

“Are you nuzzling my fucking dick, dude?” Changbin asks, trying to sound incredulous even though his words are surrounded by his own chuckling.

“Well, I do love your dick.” Chan shrugs, his fingers finally letting Changbin’s cock free. The impending orgasm is long gone, much to his disappointment and Chan’s delight.

“I just started, Binnie,” Chan whines. “Don’t you want me to suck your cock?”

Yes. He would like that very, very much. He nods so rapidly his vision goes hazy and Chan laughs. 

“Okay, okay. I won’t deny my Changbinnie anymore.” Chan spits into his hand and pumps Changbin’s cock a few times before pressing the head against his plump bottom lip. His half-lidded gaze travels up Changbin’s body, hungrily drinking in every inch of beautiful softness he can see. Chan’s mused hair, glassy eyes, and lecherous expression is everything Changbin is craving and more after the day he’s had. There’s so much trust there…it makes his head spin that he’s able to make Chan look like this; that he has the honor of being able to witness it firsthand.

“Just lay back, relax, and let me take care of you,” Chan practically growls that last part, holding himself up for a moment by laying his palms on Changbin’s thighs and shimmying his hips. It makes his back arch sinfully.

Changbin has no idea how long he’ll last, but tonight isn’t about that and Chan knows it. Said it was okay. Besides, if the way he’s rutting against Changbin’s leg like a desperate animal is any indication, he shouldn’t worry about whether or not Chan will get off tonight. Changbin leans back, stretching lazily and resting his arms along the back of the sofa. He lets his entire body relax (with one notable exception) and takes a second to appreciate the moment. He has a full belly of yummy food and one of the most gorgeous men on the planet between his legs, literally salivating over his cock. It makes missed alarms and stubbed toes and closed boba shops seem just as unimportant as everything that isn’t him and Chan right now.

Changbin is overcome by a wave of love strong enough to make his vision swim. He never cries, but somehow Chan always brings that level of emotion out of him. After a long day of mishap after mishap, he feels so incredibly lucky to be able to come home and end his day like this. However, Chan doesn’t see the onset of tears so positively, and surges up to cradle Changbin’s face in his hands with a twisted look.

“Binnie? What is it? I’m sorry, we can stop, I shouldn’t have—”

Chan is quieted with a gentle touch to his arm. “I’m just so happy to have you, my precious Channie hyung.”

The subsequent waterworks from Chan are completely expected. Changbin laughs lightly and kisses the tears away.

“Do you still want to suck—”

Chan scrambles back to the floor. “Just lay back, yeah? You don’t have to do anything.”

That sounds nice. Really nice. Changbin slowly drags his thumb along Chan’s bottom lip.

“Okay, Chan-ah. Show me what you’ve got.”

Chan does not disappoint. He never does. He puts his pretty pink mouth on Changbin and slams down, choking himself on the dick he’s been thinking about all day with superhuman control over his gag reflex. It can’t really be described as soft and slow any more, not with the way Chan starts choking himself on his cock while rolling his balls in time like a fucking professional.

The groan that explodes out of Changbin is so pornographic it makes both of them pause and blush— he’s never made a sound like that before, has he? —but Chan recovers much faster, bobbing his head at a brutal pace. Changbin has no choice but to reach down and stop him by taking two fistfuls of nearly-dry curls or else Chan, the cock-sucking demon that he is, is going to make him cum in two seconds. At the abrupt interruption, Chan makes a surprised noise around his length that sends a jolt up Changbin’s spine.

Chan takes his mouth away again. Changbin doesn’t even try to hide his pitiful whine at the loss of contact.

“No. Touch— ing,” Chan breathes out, mouthing at his balls with each syllable. An expertly timed stroke and two fingers pressing against Changbin’s taint have him seeing fucking stars, and he knows without a doubt that he’s about to cum all over his hyung’s stupidly gorgeous face. But Chan is swift, swallowing his cock in its entirety just in time for Changbin to finish down his throat instead of all over his lovely face.

That’s…a good idea, actually. Chan would look good like that. Changbin makes a mental note for the future. For now, he appreciates the lack of mess to deal with as he comes down from the rush to be met with a profoundly deep feeling of exhaustion. It’s probably not even eight in the evening, but his body and mind are telling him it’s time for bed. He imagines sleep would come easily not just for him but Chan too. He knows how little his hyung sleeps.

The day is catching up with him fast, but more than that he is overwhelmingly content. He’s glad he dressed comfortably because the act of moving feels like a chore. All he wants to do is use Chan like a pillow and go to sleep. He’s barely had time to feel like something is being missed when he remembers.

“Channie, do you want me to jerk you off? You did so good. You deserve to cum too—”

“Uh. No need.” Chan clears his throat, sounding shy. 

Changbin looks down, noticing that Chan is still wearing his boxers, remembering that both of those beautiful hands were on him at all times as well as the sensation of Chan rutting against his calf.

Ah. His Channie hyung really is the cutest.

Changbin pulls Chan up onto the couch, grumbling happily as they sink into the cushions together. He’s wondering how on earth he’s going to convince Chan they should go to bed this early when Chan whispers to him. “Would you hate it if I just wanted to go to bed now?”

Changbin protests when the older man makes them both get up so they can sleep on an actual mattress, but acquiesces when Chan offers to give him a piggyback ride to the bedroom. There’s a brief struggle over who will be the little spoon, until they eventually settle chest to chest with their legs tangled together.

Changbin won’t remember falling asleep at all when he wakes in the morning as he drifts off slowly, memories of a day once thought ruined being fading away into dimpled smiles and homemade jjajangmyeon.