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Early on, Yeonsu had learned that Joon-gi Han’s confidence wasn’t just for show. The arrogance was very much a part of him; the man adored himself and was obsessed with his own appearance to a fault. Still, Yeonsu couldn’t help but admire him; not just for his good looks, but also for his confidence, his charisma, and the magnetic way he just drew people in.
What Yeonsu didn’t expect was for Joon-gi to become obsessed with him too. It was shortly after he finally completely healed from the surgery that transformed his face that Joon-gi suddenly grabbed his chin and traced the new features with open admiration. “Look at you,” he cooed, eyes dark with pleasure. “Your face is a masterpiece, Yeonsu. You’ve never looked better.”
Kind of a backhanded compliment, honestly, but Yeonsu was starving for both attention and affection. Other people were dying to get Joon-gi to even look at them and here he was, enjoying the man’s touch completely undeserving.
“Thank you, hyung.”
It didn’t take long for things to escalate.
After a long shift at Stardust Joon-gi returned home late at night, clearly still tipsy from the champagne he shared with both the hosts and their guests. Like always, Yeonsu got up to greet him – he always waited for his return, just to make sure Joon-gi was unharmed and well – but before he could even utter his usual greeting, Joon-gi already pulled him into a kiss that nearly devoured him. That same magnetic arrogance radiated off him even half-drunk; he kissed like he owned the air Yeonsu breathed, tongue pushing in deep and demanding, one hand already sliding possessively down Yeonsu’s back.
Yeonsu had kissed both men and women before and he didn’t have much of a preference for either, but he wanted to please Joon-gi so badly it almost hurt. So far he didn’t get much of a chance to prove himself, but if he could be at least a little useful to the other, he’d take the chance. He parted his lips willingly, tasting residual champagne and pure self-assured hunger.
Joon-gi broke the kiss just enough to speak against his mouth, voice low and amused. “There you are. Waiting up again like you always do. Missed me that much?”
Yeonsu’s pulse jumped. “I… I just wanted to make sure you got home okay, hyung.”
“Mhm. Sweet.” Joon-gi’s free hand cupped his jaw, tilting his face exactly how he wanted it, that familiar cocky smirk curving against Yeonsu’s lips. He kissed him again, deeper, then pulled back with a short laugh. “Still can’t get over how perfect you’ve turned out. Every time I look at you, it’s like looking in a mirror.”
Yeonsu’s stomach twisted at the words, heat and shame mixing. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Like it?” Joon-gi’s eyes raked over him with that twisted mix of genuine care and pure self-obsession. “I fucking love it. You’re mine to look at whenever I want.” He cared in his own warped way – always making sure Yeonsu stayed close, fed, available – but right now the care was drowning under the need to use what he saw.
Without warning Joon-gi’s hands clamped onto Yeonsu’s shoulders and shoved him down hard. Yeonsu’s knees hit the floor with a dull thud. A sharp jolt of panic shot through him – this was new, too fast, he hadn’t agreed to anything – but the fingers already tangling deep into his hair and yanking his head forward left no room to pull away. Yeonsu’s face was crushed straight into the hard bulge straining against Joon-gi’s expensive slacks. The thick heat of Joon-gi’s cock pressed against his cheek and lips through the fabric, already half-hard and growing thicker by the second.
“Fuck, look at you,” Joon-gi muttered, voice rough with drink and absolute certainty. “On your knees already. You gonna fight me or are you gonna be good?”
Yeonsu’s mind raced. He could push back. He could say no. Part of him wanted to, the part that still remembered he used to have a different face, a different life, a scrap of pride. Shame flooded throught him and his chest tightened; there he was, on his knees in the hallway, face mashed into Joon-gi’s crotch like he was nothing more than a cheap toy, and the worst part was the dark throb of satisfaction curling low in his gut. This was attention. This was Joon-gi wanting him. Even if it was only because Joon-gi was staring at his own features looking up.
“Hyung…” Yeonsu’s voice came out muffled against the fabric. “I--I can be good.”
“That’s what I thought.” Joon-gi’s grip tightened in his hair, hips rolling forward so the outline of his shaft dragged across Yeonsu’s lips. “Then suck me off. You can do that, hm?”
Yeonsu’s hands came up to brace against Joon-gi’s thighs, feeling the solid muscle underneath. He could dig his fingers in, shove, fight. Instead he stayed still and considered his options. If he pleased him now, if he took it well, Joon-gi might keep him closer and might look at him like that again. His own cock twitched traitorously in his pants, half hard already just from the expression on Joon-gi’s face.
Just a bit of resistance flared for one last second – he turned his head a fraction, lips staying closed, testing – but the sharp tug on his hair and the low warning sound Joon-gi made melted it instantly.
“Don’t play shy with me,” Joon-gi huffed, almost fond, something close to care bleeding through when his free hand stroked Yeonsu’s cheek almost gently for a brief second. “You waited up for this. You want it.” He used the same hand to unzip his pants and free his cock. The thick length slapped against Yeonsu’s face, hot and veined, the head already beading with precome. Joon-gi guided it to Yeonsu’s lips with a firm push of his hips and another tug of hair, that cocky half-smirk never leaving his face. “Open up.”
Yeonsu opened his mouth and just barely bit back a muffled groan. His lips were stretched around the girth, the salty taste of precome hitting his tongue immediately as Joon-gi shoved deeper, fingers still buried in his hair.
“That’s it,” Joon-gi groaned, voice dropping lower, a little more real. “Fuck, just like that. Look up at me while you do it. I want to watch.”
Humiliation burned up Yeonsu’s neck – saliva already gathering at the corners of his mouth, eyes watering, the wet sound of Joon-gi’s cock sliding over his tongue filthy and loud in the quiet apartment – but underneath it was a dark, sick satisfaction. He was useful. He was wanted. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked harder, tongue working along the underside the way he hoped would feel good, trying to please even while being used.
Joon-gi’s hips jerked hard and he yanked Yeonsu off his cock by the hair. The thick shaft pulled free with a wet pop, spit trailing from the head down Yeonsu’s chin. Yeonsu gasped, sucking air into his lungs, lips swollen and shiny. Shame crashed through his chest so hard it almost knocked the breath back out of him. He was kneeling in the hallway with his throat aching from how deep that cock had gone down his throat and his own cocking throbbing painfully against his pants. Part of him wanted to wipe his mouth and stand up like he still had any pride left. The bigger part stayed frozen right there because the heat in Joon-gi’s eyes made the whole humiliating mess feel like something he needed, too.
Joon-gi laughed, short and cocky. “Shit. Are you getting off of this?” He wrapped his fist around his own cock, pumping it with a few quick strokes.
The first thick rope of cum hit Yeonsu’s cheek hot and sudden. He flinched but didn’t pull away. Another pulse striped across his lips and chin, salty and heavy when it landed on his tongue. Shame burned hotter, yet the heat in his gut coiled tighter and meaner. He had made Joon-gi come. His fingers dug hard into Joon-gi’s thighs while more of his spent landed on his forehead and slid slowly down the bridge of his nose.
Joon-gi kept pumping through every spurt, milking the last drops so they fell onto Yeonsu’s lower lip. His free hand came down and smeared a thumb through the mess on Yeonsu’s cheek, rough at first then slower, like he was deciding he liked the way it looked.
“You’re shaking,” Joon-gi said, voice low and amused. “Didn’t think you’d enjoy yourself that much, but who can blame you?”
Yeonsu’s throat worked. Cum cooled on his skin while his thoughts were racing. He should hate this. He should shove Joon-gi away and scrub every trace off his face. Instead, he stayed kneeling, his cock throbbing trapped in his pants, the shame and the hungry satisfaction twisted so tight he could barely speak.
“You asked me to be good, hyung. I always follow your orders.”
Joon-gi’s thumb pressed once more against the cum on his lip, the gesture seeming almost possessive. “You were, Yeonsu. Perhaps I underestimated your loyalty, hm?”
Then, Joon-gi tucked himself away, zipping up his pants with a satisfied sigh. He looked down at Yeonsu still on his knees and clicked his tongue. “Go get cleaned up. You’re a disaster right now.”
Yeonsu nodded. His legs shook as he pushed himself up off the floor and he kept his eyes down and walked straight to the bathroom without another word.
He stepped under the hot spray and let the water hit his face first, washing most of the traces of what just happened away. His cock was still so hard it was impossible to ignore, so he wrapped a hand around it and stroked once, then twice. Embarrassingly, that was all it took for him to tip over the edge and cum over his own fingers with a muffled groan, hips jerking as thick ropes mixed with the water and slid down the drain. Yeonsu squeezed his eyes shut and tried his hardest to pretend he had not thought about Joon-gi at all – not the weight of that cock on his tongue, not the taste, not the way he had looked at him.
Yeonsu dried off quickly and pulled on a clean pair of boxers. His legs still felt unsteady when he stepped out of the bathroom and walked down the short hall toward the living room, fully expecting the apartment to be empty or for Joon-gi to have already disappeared into his own room. Instead, he stopped short in the doorway. Joon-gi was sitting on the couch with a glass of whiskey in one hand, the amber liquid catching the low light. Yeonsu’s eyes widened a little; he had not expected him to be there still, let alone waiting.
Joon-gi looked him up and down for a long moment, gaze dragging slowly from Yeonsu’s bare chest down to the thin fabric of the boxers and back up again. The silence stretched until he finally spoke. “You still need to work on your physique. Tomorrow you’re working out with me. No excuses.” The words landed like critique, sharp and direct the way Joon-gi always was about bodies and appearances – especially Yeonsu’s – yet… there was a faint softness under the tone that Yeonsu had never heard before, something almost careful that made his chest tighten.
Joon-gi took a slow sip of the whiskey, eyes still on him. “Go to bed.”
“Of course. Have a good night, hyung.”