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"Wow," is the first thing to come out of Taehyun's mouth when Soobin finally allows him to open his eyes. They trail all over him, those eyes, dark and focused and a little shiny the way they always are. Up, then down again, then back up. He shakes his head wordlessly, and a small tendril of pride curls around in Soobin's stomach, settling some of his nerves. The ego boost from rendering Taehyun of all people speechless is no small thing.
It helps, too, considering how vulnerable of a position Soobin is in. How vulnerable of a position he put himself in, when he agreed to this. He's worn a lot of clothes he wouldn't normally wear in the name of their career. He's tried a lot of things, some that fit him better than others, at the request of their stylists for stages or photoshoots. A lot of things, some leaning feminine and some not, but none had felt so exposing as this. He feels too bulky and awkward and far too tall, standing close to naked in the middle of his room with Taehyun's gaze pinned on him. The sound it makes when he swallows feels too loud; too heavy. Soobin's arms fidget restlessly at his sides, fighting the urge to hide himself.
"You like it, then," he says warily.
"I already knew I was going to like it when I asked you." Taehyun steps into his space, crowding up against him, but he doesn't reach for Soobin like expected. "Hyung. Can I touch?"
Soobin blinks, thrown. It was Taehyun who wanted this. It was Taehyun who raised the idea of it in the first place. It was Taehyun who by some discreet manner managed to get his hands on a delicately wrapped package and have it delivered secretly to the dorm, and it was Taehyun who pressed it into his hands today, knowing Soobin would need no explanation for what it was, and said, "Will you put it on, Soobin-hyung?"
What else did Taehyun expect from this, if not to touch? Dumbly, Soobin nods, and at once Taehyun's hands are on him.
Surprising Soobin, he doesn't go for the lace and frilly stuff first. Instead he brushes tender fingers over the exposed skin of Soobin's waist, thumbs pressing gently into his soft abdomen. He kisses Soobin softly, goes for Soobin's arms and caresses the muscle there, too—something that makes Soobin squirm, his stomach tossing with nerves. He hadn't understood why Taehyun wanted it—admittedly still doesn't, even after hearing Taehyun's explanation. Soobin is so big, even when he's not as built as he would be if he made a habit out of working out like Taehyun does, that it seems ludicrous that he would be able to fit into something so delicate without tearing it. He'd been scared stiff in the bathroom, worrying over whether it would rip somehow as he tried to get it on, then worrying over whether or not he should have shaved, if Taehyun was expecting him to. But Taehyun's fingers find the coarse hair beneath his navel with a pleased hum before he moves on upward to the lace and feels over it, tracing the white floral pattern of the bralette.
Taehyun's touch is light enough to tickle, and Soobin jolts beneath it before forcing himself still, his eyes closed as he draws in a deep, calming breath. His fingers curl up to his palms, and his nails dig into soft flesh.
"Taehyun-ah," he says hoarsely. Taehyun hums, thumb dragging down the lace spread over one pectoral, catching Soobin's nipple with his nail through the fabric. Soobin sways, off balance. He wants to sit down, but Taehyun doesn't seem done with him. He kind of wants to take it off, too, more embarrassment rising in him, hot enough to burn through the expensive lingerie. But there's something… Soobin doesn't understand it, but his stomach had swooped when he looked in the mirror, and it swoops deliciously again now as Taehyun fondles him to his heart's content. He doesn't get it. He doesn't know why… "Why… Why white?"
Soobin is far from innocent, but it looks almost virginal, the cut and the trim and the stark brightness of it. It feels like something some pretty girl would wear on her wedding night. And Soobin is pretty, he knows—his good looks are something to boast about. But he isn't a girl, and he doesn't want to be. He wouldn't even if Taehyun wanted him to be, and he and Taehyun couldn't have a wedding even if one day they really wanted to. He's a man and he looks it no matter how pretty he is, no matter what he prefers in bed. It's something that doesn't bother him—it hadn't bothered him, he hadn't even had reason to think about it until Taehyun asked him to wear lacy panties and a bralette. And even then Soobin hadn't had any reason to say no, even if it was embarrassing and he doubted it would fit.
It fits, alright. It fits better than it should. It fits well, near-perfect, in everything but looks—and even then, it's… He finds that the embarrassment doubles as something both shameful and sweet. That's what bothers Soobin.
Taehyun had expected to like it, the sight of a massive man like Soobin in dainty clothes, for a reason Soobin can't even pretend to wholly understand. Soobin had expected—and it sounds worse than it is, to put it this way—to tolerate it, but not get much out of it. He'd do it because Taehyun wanted to, because Taehyun had assured him it wasn't about wanting him to be anything and Soobin trusts him. And it wasn't as though Soobin was opposed or disliked the idea, but he'd expected that's what it would be like: something for Taehyun, because Soobin loves Taehyun and wants to give him what he wants. What's a little embarrassment for someone he cherishes so closely?
He hadn't expected… this. He hadn't expected to be half-hard by the time he was finished changing, biting his lip as the lace rubbed against his nipples and his dick began to strain even with all the extra fabric at the front of the panties. Taehyun must know his stuff—this is lingerie for men specifically, a thought that sends a dizzying surge through Soobin's brain. Taehyun wants to see him in it because he's a man, Soobin reminds himself. He has to find Taehyun's shoulders and hold onto him so he doesn't lose his balance and tip over waiting for Taehyun to answer.
"I thought about blue," Taehyun says, playing idly with Soobin's nipple through the lace, alternating between rubbing the pad of his thumb over it and digging his nail in through the thin stretch of fabric. Soobin leans into him, breath caught painfully in his throat. His eyes flutter open and find Taehyun staring intently at his face. "But I really liked the look of this set, and they only had it in white, black, hot pink, or red, so…"
Soobin wobbles a little as Taehyun gets his thumb and forefinger around the lace and Soobin's nipple and pinches, a thoughtful look on his face.
"Hyung looks good in white," Taehyun finishes, voice dipping into something soft and careful.
He releases Soobin's nipple and smooths his hands down Soobin's front until he can find the band of the panties. Soobin's head bows forward, blood rushing to his face, mortified at the little sound of realization Taehyun makes as he comes across the problem. This was supposed to be for Taehyun. It was supposed to affect Taehyun. But Soobin hadn't accounted for the way it would affect him. He'd thought, foolishly, that he'd be more into Taehyun's reaction than the way it felt to wear lingerie. There's no avoiding it—the truth of the matter is that he'd been dead wrong.
The reaction is good—Taehyun's hands tightening on his hips, the hitch in his breath as he realizes how hard Soobin is, the way his big, round eyes dart between Soobin's crotch and his beet-red face, mouth shaping a nearly silent "Oh." But then, the dripping tip of Soobin's dick pressing up against the lace is good too, when it jumps in response to Taehyun gripping him tighter, the friction only making Soobin harder, making him drip impossibly more, a small damp patch spreading across the front of the panties. Soobin's eyes squeeze shut, and he swallows down a strangled noise of mortification. It's a little late to be thinking it. It's way too late in the game, honestly, for Soobin to be realizing that he's into both.
Taehyun's hand sneaks down, palming over Soobin's dick, the other dropping from his hip to his ass, and Soobin's knees tremble precariously as Taehyun gropes him through the lace.
"Taehyun-ah," he croaks. He sways into the touch, and it's so good his brain feels like it's leaking out his ears. Soobin can't remember the last time he felt this on edge, the last time just one touch to his dick made him feel like he was losing his mind, had him rubbing thoughtlessly against the pressure like he is now. Spit pools in his mouth and he has to swallow again so he won't embarrass himself more by fucking drooling.
"Soobin-hyung," Taehyun returns, awed. He presses more firmly against the head of Soobin's dick through the lace, digs blunt nails into the exposed portion of Soobin's ass, then lets up and clears his throat. "Why don't we go sit down?"
It takes a moment to click, but when he gets it Soobin nods in a rush, winded and eager. They back up toward the bed and Taehyun, with all that carefully controlled and contained strength, pushes him right down onto it. The whimper Soobin lets out as he hits the mattress is nothing short of humiliating. He puts all his focus into inching up the bed so he can recline comfortably on the pillows, and Taehyun climbs up after him, stalls between Soobin's spread thighs to lean down and nuzzle his face in the crook of his groin, right up against his painfully hard dick, delicate in the way he takes the little bow between his teeth. He gets Soobin halfway to delirious with just that and then makes it worse by crawling on top of him, leaning down and getting a mouthful of the bralette in his attempt to lick and teethe at Soobin's nipple until his spit soaks it through, until Soobin is so wound up he could start crying or begging, or both. Then, too soon, Taehyun is up again. He's hovering over him—red-faced, breathing hard, and still fully clothed, Soobin notes even through his slightly-blurred vision.
"Why am I the only one this undressed?" Soobin asks, blinking to clear some of that overwhelmed haze from his head. "That's not fair."
Taehyun laughs, flustered.
"Sorry. I got distracted." He tugs his shirt carelessly over his head and tosses it aside. Soobin understands—Taehyun can be distracting, too. He's always spending all that time at the gym, so dedicated to it, and Soobin knows very, very well what it's like to get caught in a stupor staring at the results. He's doing it even now, raking his eyes greedily over Taehyun, from his pecs to his abs and following his happy trail down to where it disappears beneath Taehyun's basketball shorts. Taehyun slips his thumbs into the band of them and drags them lower. "You just—you look so good. Fuck. You're so hard, hyung."
It takes a minute to sink in, but when it does, a hot rush of embarrassment hits Soobin so hard he has to cover his face with his hands. It's nothing new, but it also is, kind of. It feels much more exposing to be hard in a pair of dainty lace panties than it does in boxers or even briefs. He'd kind of thought, despite what Taehyun said when he explained, that it might go ignored. That the appeal was in the daintiness, and that Soobin's dick—which is anything but dainty—would therefore be ignored for the most part, at least verbally. And yet here Taehyun is, honing in on it, because of course he is.
Because when Soobin had asked, a little bit hurt in his confusion, why, when he'd said, I'm not—I'm not a girl, Taehyun-ah, the response had been I know you're not. That has nothing to do with it.
Somehow, despite everything, it hadn't sunk in until this instant that Taehyun really, really meant that.
"Don't be embarrassed," Taehyun chides, pulling Soobin back into the present. He sounds amazed, almost disbelieving, and so turned on. "Seriously, fuck, it looks so good. I just want to…"
He's climbing on top of Soobin now, straddling him, and Soobin nearly chokes on a sharp inhale when Taehyun lowers himself so their dicks are pressed together through two layers of flimsy fabric. He has to look, peeks out through the gaps in his fingers to risk it, and then covers his face again fully with a rough groan at the sight of Taehyun's clothed erection pressed right up against his.
"You almost look bigger like this," Taehyun says breathlessly.
His hand makes contact again, thumbing reverently over the tiny satin bow on the band of the panties. Soobin twitches on the bed and pries his hands away from his face to glare.
"Stop it." The protest is weaker than he means it to be, almost shaky. He catches sight of their cocks pressed together again and it chokes him up, gets his head spinning, his dick leaking. Taehyun on him, over him, pressing him down into the mattress with just his body weight. "You're—you're awful."
Taehyun just laughs again. His eyes are bright and interested, the way he gets when he has a hypothesis and wants to test it, and sure enough within the next few seconds he's rocking against Soobin, hips pressing down into him, grinding slow and sure against his dick where it's barely contained under all that fragile lace. Soobin is going to die. He grabs for something, anything to hold onto, and lands on the comforter spread beneath them, yanking at it as his head tips back onto the pillows.
"Fuck," says Taehyun.
Fuck, Soobin thinks in agreement, mouth half-open and pulse throbbing hard in his ears.
Taehyun is right, of course, as he almost always is. Soobin does look bigger like this. He'd been nervous going into it, thinking of lingerie as something to wear to emphasize how small someone is. But it's doing the opposite, instead, and Taehyun is into that. It feels silly to think that Soobin had ever been worried now that Taehyun is rutting against him eagerly, too impatient to even get his briefs off beforehand. They're making such a mess of things; Soobin's panties are going to be ruined if this keeps up. He shudders, bites his tongue to stifle a whine, hitches his hips up to meet Taehyun's on the next rock down.
"Do you like it?" Taehyun asks, strained. "You do, don't you, hyung? It's—you like it as much as I do."
Soobin doesn't get it. He doesn't think he likes it for the same reasons, but it doesn't even matter because Taehyun is right; he likes it. He likes it so much he forgets to answer, fixated on the pleasure-pain of wet lace dragging across the sensitive tip of his dick. He turns his cheek, unable to watch anymore, and trembles as the friction drags him closer, closer, eyes screwing shut. Then Taehyun stops, leans back, panting, and Soobin makes a wrecked sound of complaint.
"Yeah, I know, sorry, I just—" He lifts himself up, taking all that sweet pressure with him, and Soobin peeks his eyes open to find that Taehyun has gotten his dick out and is just stroking it, staring intently at the swell of Soobin's poor, aching erection where it's trapped. "Just want to…"
"Taehyun-ah," Soobin groans, as annoyed as he is furiously turned on. He rocks his hips up, trying to coax Taehyun into coming back, to no avail. "Taehyun—you're such a—"
With in an indignant huff, he releases his tight grip on the comforter to reach for himself, squeezing his cock through the lace. It's such a relief after all that messy frotting that Soobin shakes, has to struggle to get the panties low enough that he can wrap a hand fully around himself, unable to hold back. He doesn't know if he's ruining the fantasy by doing it and he doesn't care, it feels too good, he can't stop.
The lace of the bralette sticks to his skin with sweat, itchy and irritating, and it rubs against his nipples when Soobin shifts and squirms, as he fucks into his own hand with just precum to ease the way.
"Shit, hyung," Taehyun breathes, and he's crowding in close again, until they're just—jerking off like that, together, their dicks almost touching, knuckles almost knocking. Soobin's eyes sting. He bites into the soft inside of his cheek and shudders, rubbing at the sensitive tip until more precum dribbles down onto his fingers. Taehyun curses again under his breath. "Oh my God, Soobin-hyung. You're so—are you close? Wait, I want to—"
Taehyun's getting distracted again, demanding, swatting Soobin's hand away from himself so he can replace it with his own, and he's swooping down awkwardly to try to kiss Soobin, his dick digging into the lacy band of the panties where it curves around Soobin's hip. He moans into Soobin's mouth, kisses him sloppy and wet, jerks him off unforgiving and quick until there are tears beading in Soobin's eyes and he's grabbing at Taehyun to ground himself, chest heaving with panting breaths beneath the bralette.
At the beginning of the night Soobin was so sure it wouldn't be a thing for him. He'd do it for Taehyun. He wouldn't mind, even if he was jittery about it to start with. Even if he didn't understand, he'd… but then why? Why does it feel so good? What's so mind-blowing about wearing some lace? Why does it have Soobin bucking feverishly into Taehyun's hand, almost wishing he could feel the sticky fabric on the tip of his dick again, even if it had been starting to hurt?
"Taehyun," he slurs, holding hard enough onto Taehyun's bare shoulder that he's sure to leave little half-moon shapes behind when he lets go. "Taehyunnie, wait, wait. I'll cum. You won't get to—"
It's a little fast, right? They're getting carried away and they won't get to go any further if Soobin cums now. And he'll ruin Taehyun's gift, expensive and difficult to find, more difficult to do so in secret—all Taehyun's effort wasted before they can even try it out again—
"Yeah," Taehyun says, rocking against Soobin's hip. He pulls back so Soobin can see his star-filled eyes and his swollen lips, slick with spit, sharp canines in his open mouth. "Yeah, hyung, do it. I want it. I want you to. Want to see it when you—"
He squeezes his hand around the sticky tip of Soobin's dick, drawing another pained whimper out of him.
"I'll—" Soobin shudders, bites down on his lip, eyes fluttering shut. His whole body strains with the effort of holding back, but it's really no use. He's done for and he knows it. "The—the clothes."
"Fuck. Yeah." Taehyun twists his hand, leaning in to kiss Soobin again, grinding against his hip, entirely unbothered. "They look so good on you, hyung."
Soobin makes a pathetic half-sobbing noise, arches up into Taehyun's fist, and cums so hard his ears ring. The first wave is barely a dribble, but the second shoots all the way up to his chest, and the next after that pools in the divot of his abs, and the next—it's kind of ridiculous, actually, the amount of mess Soobin manages to make when he's only half-aware of it, clinging to Taehyun as he shudders and shakes.
He's sticky and winded, fingers digging claw-like marks into Taehyun's shoulder by the time he comes back down, and Taehyun is murmuring something into his ear, sweet and reassuring, working Soobin's dick in his hand still, until it becomes more painful than good. He lets go when Soobin whines about it, presses his forehead to Soobin's temple and just breathes with him as he gathers himself. It's weird. It's not out of character, but Soobin had thought—Taehyun is still hard, but he's stopped grinding against him, sticky fingers petting over Soobin's stomach. He'd been so worked up that Soobin thought he'd be right behind him, and now realizing that isn't the case, Soobin has to remedy that.
"Let me," he mumbles, arm flopping uselessly as he reaches for Taehyun.
"It's okay," Taehyun says. "We can wait, hyung, it's fine."
"No." Soobin hasn't gotten to focus on Taehyun half as much as he wants to. He gets his hand around Taehyun's dick and gives him a clumsy stroke, and Taehyun hisses. "Let me…"
"Okay." But Taehyun is dislodging himself, sitting up, looking down at the wreck Soobin made of the lingerie and biting his lip. "Fuck, yeah, okay, you can—"
Soobin would be worried about not being able to do his best, as weak and jelly-limbed as he feels, but it doesn't actually take much to get Taehyun there. He's hard and pulsing in Soobin's grip, hips stuttering into the touch, and his eyes are pinned on Soobin's torso, the pearls of cum seeping into the lace around his dick and on his chest.
"Wish I had been able to watch," he gasps, releasing his lip from his sharp teeth, bowing forward like he's dizzy. "Hyung always looks so good—you look so good when you cum."
And Soobin didn't think about it, he'd been too busy recovering—but Taehyun is too close to him to do anything but add to the mess. He whines as he does and it's a pretty sound, eyes wide as cum drips down Soobin's hand and onto the lace.
Soobin apologizes, after, for not thinking ahead—but Taehyun isn't bothered at all. They just kiss for a while, and Taehyun helps him out of the set, biting his lip again as he does so, tossing the lingerie aside without sparing it a second glance and insisting on wiping Soobin down properly.
"It's kind of a shame we got so carried away," he says, eyeing Soobin's rubbed-raw nipples. "I didn't get to give these as much attention as I wanted to."
Soobin scoffs, then yelps when Taehyun gives one of the nubs a curious tweak.
"I think you gave them plenty," he says dryly. "That stuff chafes, you know. Gonna be sore."
Taehyun gives him a fond, apologetic smile. He dims the lights when he deems clean-up done, and slips under the covers with Soobin, the two of them completely nude. He holds onto him from behind, forehead pressed to the back of Soobin's neck, and for a long moment, it's just quiet. Soobin's eyelids droop. He's almost asleep when he hears Taehyun inhale, getting ready to speak.
"Soobin-hyung," Taehyun says, hushed.
"Hnn."
"Thank you for trying this with me."
Soobin rolls over halfway, peering blearily at Taehyun in the dark. He's chewing on his lip like he has something more to say.
"I know you were nervous," Taehyun says. "I know you were doing it for me, not for you. But you liked it, right? It—it seemed like you liked it."
Taehyun is rarely wrong, and he's definitely right this time. It's not actually that surprising. It makes sense, because Taehyun is the ambitious type—he likes to push Soobin's limits, and Soobin… It isn't exactly a secret that Soobin kind of gets off on being pushed around. Soobin considers his words before he speaks.
"Yeah, I liked it." He winces at the way his voice grates out of his throat. "I think I came my brains out, and we didn't even do much. I wouldn't—I don't think I'd be opposed, if you wanted to do it again. But not… Not all the time."
"No, I wouldn't expect that," Taehyun assures him. "I wouldn't want that, either. I like what we normally do. But if you want to try it again, I have some ideas…"
"We ruined this set, though." Soobin grimaces, thinking of sticky cum drying on the delicate lace in a pile on the floor. There's no saving that. But Taehyun only manages to look more excited, propping himself up on one arm.
"I can get more," he says. "I have my ways. How does hyung feel about stockings?"
Soobin's mouth goes dry. He licks his lips, rolling the idea around in his head. Nylon, or fishnet? Plain? Patterned? Sheer? With bows, maybe? His brain fries itself sorting through possibilities, but the main takeaway, much to Soobin's mortification, is—
"I. I guess. Yeah. I'd have to try to really be sure, but that sounds—I could like that. Potentially." A pause. He rolls over to face Taehyun fully, scowling at him. "Hyung is too tired to go again, Taehyun-ah, stop looking at me like that."
Glittering eyes, flushed face. The tips of Taehyun's ears are red. He looks delighted in that embarrassed, shy way of his that drives Soobin crazy. He'd been so shameless tonight, is shameless still as he asks Soobin what kind of lingerie he wants to wear, and yet.
Kang Taehyun contains multitudes. Privately, it feels like a bit of a relief to see him this way. If he was always confident and unfazed and outrageously sexy Soobin might really die.
"I still don't really get it," Soobin whispers. "Why you like it so much. It's just—It's just clothes."
Not even women's clothes. Stockings are neutral enough that anyone could wear them, so long as they're the right size. The set Taehyun had gotten for him had been close enough to Soobin's measurements—and it had undeniably been made for a man to wear.
Soobin doesn't get why he likes it, either. He liked the way Taehyun looked at him while he was in it, and he'd liked the way it felt. It probably doesn't even matter, but he wants the extra reassurance anyway, if this is going to be a reoccurring thing. It's good that Taehyun is so understanding, that he's so lovely, that he loves Soobin even when Soobin is being dumb, because his eyes soften and he pecks Soobin on the lips, chaste and sweet.
"It's not complicated," he says. "It's because it's hyung wearing it."
And Soobin supposes that makes sense. He'd liked that Taehyun was the one looking at him, after all.