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The car purrs, vibrations flow through his body and the touch on his thigh seems heightened. They’re heading home, the only other people in the car besides him and the driver are a sleeping Minho and Hyunjin — a mess of limbs with ear phones dangling out of their ears from where they shared watching some cat video on Minho’s phone — and Chan. Chan who’s fingers are deftly trying to push through the cuts in his ripped jeans.
He squirms, swallows around a whine.
‘Hyung,’ he whispers when a long pinch attacks his open skin. ‘Hyung, stop it.’
Chan doesn’t. Instead, he tenses the leg he’s thrown around Changbin’s right thigh, buries his face deeper into his neck and inhales. They’re so close like this, he feels every hot breath Chan pours out of his mouth, the mushy softness of his lips.
He’s never seen Chan like this. Sure, they all mess around as most horny boys with limited contact do but he’s never seen such a reaction out of the older man who mostly sticks to being the fond leader figure in their lives, thinks only Minho has. But ever since the stylist Noonas put him in these godforsaken ripped jeans and body con shirt that has him pinching at his skin ever so often, Chan’s been staring at him with a starving look in his eye, snatching up every opportunity to touch him, be close to him.
Hell, Changbin’s sure he’s seen their leader replay his collab TikTok with NMIXX more times than is necessary.
It’s fine, he thinks. It’s not the first time Chan’s seen him so exposed, or anyone for that matter since he’s the resident naked member of the dorm, but maybe it’s something about the adrenaline of the performance, maybe it’s seeing him in a professional setting. Still, he needs to keep his hands to himself; Changbin is only a weak man and he doesn’t want to give in to his needs with two of his members an arm away and the driver in front. So he keeps batting him away.
‘You look good, Bin-ah.’ It’s the first time Chan has let anything more than a breathy groan leave his lips upon seeing Changbin. ‘So good.’
His hands are travelling again, pinching, prodding at the soft material of the jeans. Changbin thinks it might rip soon if he keeps trying to fit his entire fist in the hole closest to his crotch.
‘Thank you, hyung.’ He breathes out a laugh, tries to appear nonchalant. ‘You’re going to ruin the jeans though, and I like them. Wanna wear them again.’
Chan tenses and Changbin can feel him biting his lip from where teeth graze his neck. He doesn’t look, refuses. One glance at how desperate Chan probably looks right now and he’ll be struggling to get these cursed jeans off, not caring who’s watching.
‘Yeah?’ His voice is clipped. ‘You would wear them again?’
‘Yeah.’ Changbin says nothing more, focuses on how his tanned flesh clashes against light blue, on Chan’s has rubbing circles on his upper thigh, squeezing his fingers into the skin so nail marks remain. His breath catches.
The car lurches forward all a sudden and pressure mixes with pleasure on his crotch because Chan’s bent knee presses into it and fuck, maybe Changbin should’ve won boxers but he’s a little exhibitionist who likes how it feels to have thousands of people watching him, STAY screaming, not knowing that there’s practically nothing under the thin material of his trousers. He’s a sick fuck who gets off to it.
‘Ah, sorry kids. Miscalculated.’ The driver calls, staring in the rear view mirror. If he suspects anything with how Chan is more or less draped in Changbin’s lap, he says nothing, used to it. ‘Everyone okay?’
Changbin can’t find his voice. His eyes flit to Minho and Hyunjin to find them dead asleep. He hates that he’s grateful the concert drained them. Chan answers the driver and he nods, turning up the radio after promising they’ll be there soon.
He hopes that’s it, maybe the near whiplash has slapped some sense and, while it’s at it, shame into Chan. But the leader, focused as ever, stares up at Changbin with hooded eyes and as the fool he is, he spares him a glance. Swallowing lightly with how godly Chan looks; tussled hair from constant worrying, bruised bitten lips that draw into a smirk. Something twitches in his pants and he curses himself for being so easy.
‘Hyung—‘ he exhales as Chan’s knee once again applies pressure to his groin.
Chan, the sleaze, finds his hard nipples that are peeking through the shirt and thumbs over them. Changbin whines lowly then tries to squirm away, embarrassed but the leg over him keeps him in place.
‘So sensitive,’ Chan muses, burying his face in Changbin’s neck again and biting softly, smiles when a gasp comes from the younger man, then sighs. ‘God, Bin-ah, who made you so pretty, hm? Let you be so…’ there’s a trail of spit that leads to Changbin’s ear and it tickles but he barely has time to react before Chan is nibbling at his earlobe. ‘Distracting.’
God, he’s clubbing up and he knows Chan can feel it. It’s humiliating how only a few words and fleeting touches can get him here. Chan’s left hand comes to his lap, presses and Changbin has to bite back a groan.
‘Chan, we—we’re not alone. We can’t-‘ he struggles to get the words out because everything in him is screaming how he doesn’t mean it.
‘Yeah,’ the older man breathes into his ear, rotating his hands so slow it’s almost painful. Changbin’s body betrays him because his hips buck and he wants to bury himself when Chan chuckles. ‘We can’t.’
There’s a hand in his hair, pulling, massaging and Changbin wonders how Chan knows that’s what he likes because it feels so good, he keens, chases the feeling. Everything, everywhere feels good and fuck, he’s barely been touched. Maybe it’s the taboo of it all, or Chan’s deliberate touches, the way his hands are every where and nowhere, his mouth pulling into smiles around Changbin’s flesh.
The leader’s hand moves to his jeans, unbuttons. His fingers are burning cold against the heat of Changbin’s hip bone, massaging just above his cock. He bucks again, like a fucking dog in heat.
‘Hyung,’ he whimpers.
Chan’s hands tighten on his hair, fingers press harder into his flesh. His breathing is hard, almost like he’s containing himself and Changbin, he throws everything out of the window, whatever shred of dignity he was clinging to, the fear of being caught that quickly turns into building pleasure.
His hands find the waist band of his jeans, thumbs at it. ‘Hyung, should…can I-‘
‘No.’ Chan’s voice is strained. ‘Keep them on. Keep them on for hyung.’
Jesus. Fuck. Is he seriously going to get him off in the jeans? Changbin is going to ruin them with cum and, oh. Oh. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He doesn’t think he can get harder than this.
‘Hyung, please, please touch me.’ He’s whispering, they’re whispering but his eyes still shake when Minho stirs and then goes back to sleep. Even if he did wake up, Changbin thinks, there’s no going back now. His body is hot to the touch, burning with need.
Chan’s fingers leave his hair, travels to his chin and then his jaw. His thumb caresses Changbin’s lips, press and then push into his warm, waiting mouth. Eager to please, Changbin sucks like his life is on the line.
There’s an amused glint in Chan’s eyes as he says, ‘Good. So good for me, Bin-ah.’
Changbin feels something warm slide between his thighs and curses because he already know what it is; precum dribbles and slimes his insides and he’s fucking aching. He thinks if Chan doesn’t just wrap a hand around his cock, he might cry.
He doesn’t, thankfully. Isn’t allowed to because Chan’s large hand is slipping past the threshold of his unbuttoned jeans and his fingers are covering Changbin’s entire girth and, fuck, it’s sizzling to the touch. He grabs it, like it’s nothing, tugs it free of its restraints in one go and Changbin’s dick, leaking precum and staining his jeans already, lies flat against his stomach.
He shudders a breath, looks down unbelieving. He stares back up at Chan but the man’s gaze isn’t fixed on him— there’s a look in his eyes of pure animalistic hunger and before much can he said, he’s glancing at the driver’s seat and after finding the man still nodding along to the sensual music playing in the car, he lets spit dribble from his mouth and unto Changbin’s waiting cock. His hands rub, slicking it, coating it with his warm fucking saliva. Fuck.
Chan’s experienced, has to be, with the way his wrist flicks, the way his warm tongue invades Changbin’s ears and blows hot air. It’s so embarrassing, how close he is.
‘Fuck.’ He cries, squeezing his eyes shut so he doesn’t catch how much of a mess a simple handjob is making him in the reflection of the tinted glass. ‘Fuck, hyung, ah, please.’
Changbin is glad they’re at the very back, glad the loud music drowns out the lewd fapping, thinks he’ll die if their driver decides it’s the best time to look back and check on them.
‘Yeah? You like that?’ Changbin nods when his voice fails him, Adam’s Apple bobbing. Chan thumbs the slit on his cockhead and a gasp shakes his chest. ‘Words, Bin-ah. Hyung wants to hear how good he’s making you feel.’
‘Please, fuck. Yes, yes. H-hyung…Chan hyung, just - please.’ He’s not aware of what he’s begging for, even forgets what the question is and feels incredulous that he’s babbling like this over fucking fingers but he can’t help it: it feels so good, how steady Chan is going, how close and warm they are together and Changbin is close, so close.
Teeth scrub on the back of his neck. ‘God, Changbin. You’re so pretty like this, it makes me want to ruin you. Haven’t even touched you yet, wanna put my mouth on your dick so bad.’
Shit. It’s so crude but Changbin wants nothing more than, hates that he can’t have it.
‘Maybe another time, hm?’ Chan sucks a bruise into his neck that has him reeling. ‘Are you close?’
Changbin can’t do anything but nod. ‘Y-es. Please, more. Hyung, I-‘
‘More?’ Chan hums. How is he so calm and collected while Changbin is falling apart? It’s unfair. Chan looks like he wants to say something, tease, maybe, but his fingers pick up pace instead and Changbin is gasping and groaning and whimpering.
‘Gonna— please, please, please. Can I?’
Chan likes that Changbin asks permission, it’s evident in the way he clamps down on his shoulder blade. ‘Cum for hyung, baby.’
Changbin shudders through it, eyes falling shut as Chan continues to pump, squeezing it out of him, milking and god. God. His chest heaves, can’t help the loud and heavy breathing but nobody stirs. When his eyes finally drag open, he finds the last bit of white on his jeans being scooped up by the older man, leaving a dark stain behind.
He drags his eyes to Chan just in time to see his fingers pressing into his mouth as he groans around them, eyes shut. And he’s — he’s eating Changbin’s cum. Fuck. Something twists in him and he’s afraid if he doesn’t look away, he’ll grow again.
‘Jesus fucking Christ, hyung. Shit.’ Is all he manages to breathe out.
Chan cracks his eyes open to flash him a lopsided grin and then unwraps from Changbin, going to adjust his pants. That when he sees it, the large tent in Chan’s tight leather pants and he winces because it looks like it hurts and he swallows because he wants it, so bad.
‘Hyung—‘ he mouths, eyes fixed. ‘Let me help you.’
Chan casts a look at his pants as if he’s seeing it for the first time and he chuckles. ‘Don’t worry, Bin.’ He says, a beady look in his eye. ‘You’ve done enough.’
A few minutes later, the driver finally pulls up to the dorm where the other kids are waiting because they promised each other movie night and the 3RACHA dorm is the biggest. Chan borrows him his jacket to tie around his waist as they get down. When they do, they find Minho and Hyunjin, who already have, staring at them with entertained gazes.
‘What?’ Chan says as they walk into the building.
‘Jesus Christ, hyung. If you’re going to fuck at least have the decency to wait until you get home.’ Minho cackles and Hyunjin follows.
Changbin’s face is hot to the touch. He defends, ‘we thought you were sleeping!’
‘Oh we know,’ Hyunjin snickers. ‘Please, hyung. Harder, hyung. I wanna sit on your face, hyung.’
‘I never said that!’ Changbin protests but the menaces don’t hear him as they push the keys in and walk inside, giggling to theirselves.
A hand comes on the small of his back and he stares up at the older man. ‘Ah, don’t mind them, Bin-ah. They’re just jealous. They’re just jealous I got to touch you in the jeans first.’
Changbin pauses, blinks. ‘First?’
Chan only smirks as they walk inside. Everyone else is sprawled out on the floor when they do and every activity is stilled upon their presence, then there are hungry eyes on him from every corner. Chan gives him a small comforting pat.
He’s not sure they’re going to be watching any movie tonight.