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Crashing through the door in a giggly, drunken mess isn’t exactly what Chan had in mind for date night, yet here he was.
“Shh!” Minho ‘whispers’, the sound echoing around them.
His eyes go wide at the noise and he looks around, confused. Who was that talking back to him?
“You shush,” Chan retorts, but he’s grinning, the alcohol in his system doing its job very well.
It had been a while since they’d gone out, just the two of them. It was hard to get quality, private time while living with seven other guys. Seven, very nosy and needy guys.
Chan was the leader and Minho one of the hyungs, but even parents needed a break every now and then and that was just what they did that night.
It was their anniversary after all, they deserved it.
A whole year they’d been together, a whole year of hurried, tender kisses, shameless cuddles, and unwavering support in each other.
Dating at their age was hard enough, but add being an internationally recognized idol to the situation? Even harder.
They didn’t try terribly hard to hide from their members, it was obvious enough to them, but the public and the company was a different story.
They’ve learned how to live with it though, followed the advice of their seniors well enough to have maintained their love this whole year. It was truly a thing to celebrate and that was exactly what they intended to do.
Minho was pleasantly surprised when his normally sappy boyfriend announced that they were actually going out on the town.
It’s not that he didn’t enjoy their nights in, cuddling and kissing (among other things) and listening to music together. Sappy, lovely stuff like that was what made their hearts warm, but Minho was more of a social butterfly.
Imagine his surprise when their night out included a trip to an arcade, thrift shopping and an impromptu fashion show, and most exciting of all, a tour of the best restaurants in the city. All while consuming more drinks than either of them had ever tried in their combined lifetimes.
Minho had never been so entertained in his life.
It was time for their night to come to an end though and despite feeling very much awake, all either of them wanted to do was sleep and snuggle the night away.
“Channie~” Minho coos, clinging to the blonde suddenly. “Let’s fuck in the studio.”
Or maybe not.
“Oh, my god. Yes!” Chan’s face lights up like Minhos just brought him the key to the universe. He grabs him by the arm and drags them to the studio.
They stumble as they walk, bumping into each other in a warm daze that they could only be comfortable about with each other. Chan nearly trips as he throws open the door to the studio and Minho cackles as he watches the other almost go down.
“Lock the door,” he reminds, still snickering.
Minho was lucid enough to take that precaution at least. If it was up to his boyfriend, the exhibitionist, they’d probably end up being caught by some unsuspecting staff member. Or worse, one of their members.
Minho shudders at the thought of traumatizing the kids and apparently Chan realizes it too.
“Oh, my god. Minho, we can’t fuck on the couch. Jeongin likes to sit there!” Chan whines. He couldn’t do that to his precious Innie!
“Pfft, forget Jeongin!” Minho scoffs and Chan gasps dramatically.
“Forget Jeonginnie? How can you even say that?!” Chan is appalled.
“Not like forget Jeongin,” Minho explains, rolling his eyes. “But like forget Jeongin!”
“I don’t wanna forget Jeongin though,” Chan shines, practically stomping his foot in frustration.
“Well, where are supposed to fuck?” Minho pouts, equally upset. “Where are we supposed to do the deed, get down and dirty?! Consummate our marriage!”
Chan gasps again. “Oh, my god. We’re married?!”
“Not anymore we’re not,” Minho huffs.
Minho would sooner die than toy with the idea of marriage like that, but hey, drunk Minho wouldn’t remember anyhow.
“Noooo!” Chan cries, eyes glistening with tears.
He drops to his knees in front of Minho, looking up at him with pleading, glazy eyes. Whew, they had a lot to drink.
“Lee Minho,” he says, taking the others hand in his and bringing it to his lips for a quick kiss. “Will you please say yes....make me the happiest man on earth.....and let me fuck you tonight?”
“I....” Minho hesitates, sniffling. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Chan rises again and he beams at his newfound ‘husband’ before crashing their lips together in what seems like the thousandth messy, giggly kiss of the night.
Their kisses are sweet, the taste of some semi-expensive wine passing between them as they smile into it.
The air is warm around them, the haze and stupor of the alcohol seeping into the room with each press of their lips. Chan is impossibly warm as always and Minho feels himself getting dizzy.
Dizzy underneath the dim, glowing lights of the studio sanctuary, dizzy when Chan licks at his lips eagerly, dizzy when he guides them backwards and they fall onto the sacred couch.
Minho is in his lap now and Chan wastes no time in giving them both what they want. The alcohol is strong in them still, but the high of a drink can’t compare to the state of drunkenness clouding their minds right now.
That high is all them. It’s pure, steady and strong Chan and fearless, genius Minho. Their minds never clash at times like this, working in tune instead to please each other in the way they both crave.
Usually, Chan would take his time, unraveling the mystery that is Minho, bring the both of them to the edge, teetering back and forth until they can only rut against each other in a desperate rush for pleasure.
Tonight feels different though. Maybe it’s because it’s their anniversary, or maybe it’s the alcohol, but Chan is impatient and so is Minho.
Minho is grinding on his lap, hand already reaching down to join Chan’s in ridding them of their clothes.
“Get up, baby. Quick,” Chan breathes out between their kiss.
Normally, Minho would refuse the simple order, becoming catty, but tonight he just wants Chan and he wants him quickly.
He leaves the comfort of the blondes lap and strips as fast as he can, which would be fine if he wasn’t still so dizzy.
He’s hopping on one leg, trying to pull off his pants and he falls forward with a yelp, crashing unceremoniously on the couch next to Chan, who did not have as much trouble as him.
“Hey, don’t laugh!” Minho sulks when Chan snickers at his demise.
“I-I’m not!” Chan stutters, very much still cackling.
“I’ll suck your dick right here, right now. I’ll get on my knees, I’m serious,” Minho warns, but it isn’t very much of a threat. He’s still struggling to wrench off the other pant leg. God, who let him wear skinny jeans tonight?!
“Oh, really?” Chan smirks.
“Yeah,” Minho says, dead serious with his leg in the air. “I’ll beat your ass without the b.”
Chan bursts into laughter, high-pitched and wholesome. He’s doubled over, eyes screwed shut and smile so bright that Minho can’t even feign anger. He’s cracking up too, proud of his stupid joke and the he could bring such a smile to his boyfriends face.
“Hey, I’m serious!” Minho yells again, half-heartedly. “Get these jeans off me so I can beat your ass without the b!”
“Absolutely not,” Chan laughs, his sides still dying. “If anyone is getting their ass beaten it’s you. With and without the b.”
“Kinky,” Minho wiggles his brows at the blonde, sending him into another fit of giggles.
“Why are these so tight?” Chan says, finally tugging on the jeans.
“It’s the style, hyung. Plus they make my butt look good.”
Chan just shakes his head, helping Minho out of his pants and chuckling.
“Freedom!” Minho sighs when they’re finally off and immediately pounces into the others lap again. “Back to our regularly scheduled program.”
“Are you a commercial?” Chan snorts, but his hands are already on Minho, dipping into the waistband of his boxers to tease at the hardness hiding beneath the fabric.
Minho shudders, unable to respond, as a warm hand envelops him. He leans forward, resuming their kiss in hopes of drowning his moans in Chan’s mouth.
They know each other well. Chan can pinpoint every nerve, every sweet spot on Minho’s body, and he takes advantage of it every time.
He raises Minho’s hips, pulling his boxers down to let his erection free. It’s cute, the way the brunette suddenly tenses at being exposed. Minho thinks it’s even cuter when Chan’s breath hitches in their kiss though, a curse spilling out his lips when he feels Minho’s soft hand on him.
Minho lets out a chuckle but he whimpers when his boyfriend strokes in retaliation, thumb tracing over the head of Minho’s dick teasingly.
“A-Ah, Chan,” he moans and shifts closer to the blonde until they’re brushing against each other softly, slowly.
Chan moans in response, biting at Minho’s lips until the other opens up. Their tongues slide against each other, hot and still messy. Chan is rough, nipping at Minho’s pink puckered lips and lapping at his tongue and sucking a little too hard, just the way Minho likes.
He’s shivering and whimpering, trying to keep up with Chan’s fluttering tongue. He doesn’t miss the way the blonde groans deep in his chest at the way Minho’s small hands work over and around his pulsing cock though.
Minho’s fingers are nimble, flicking at the head and tracing down Chan’s shaft in the same breath, hands wet and warm with a mix of them both. He resists the urge to drop to his knees and take all of Chan’s length into his mouth, fights the image in his head of his boyfriend spilling in his mouth. He wasn’t joking when he said he wanted to suck the man’s dick, but he was too close to hold out any longer.
Chan is driving him further and further to the edge, tongue making him crazy, and hand grasping at his to go faster, so he does.
Minho strokes quickly, hand twisting and working to get Chan off, to make him moan and tremble in his ear and promise another night like this again.
“Minho,” the blonde grunts, thrusting up into their hands and cursing.
“Hyung,” Minho moans, softly first, but his noises become louder and louder as their hands stroke together and Chan bites and licks at his lips even more.
“O-Oh! Chan,” Minho whimpers, tensing once more, and he cums.
It leaks out of him, spilling into their hands and onto their dicks, making everything that much more wet. He trembles from the aftershocks, mewling softly in his throat at the feeling of his warm cum against Chan’s dick.
Chan however, isn’t done.
“Hyung,” Minho gasps, breaking their kiss. “Did you— Ah, fuck!”
He yells, squirming when Chan suddenly strokes even more, grinning as he watches more and more cum seep out of the trembling boy before him. Minho is whining, head thrown back and mouth open in a choked cry, hips undulating from the relentless overstimulation.
“Hyung!” Minho writhes, but Chan grips his hip tightly, hand still working between them until Minho is practically sobbing.
He loves teasing and breaking Minho into nothing but moans and whines beneath him, but he loves this even more. The way Minho cries and thrusts up into the heat of his hand, caught between wanting cum over and over until he’s sobbing, body writhing from unspeakable pleasure, and thinking they should stop.
He doesn’t though. He never does. He always lets Chan fuck him and use him until he’s paralyzed, eliciting moan after moan, pulling orgasm after orgasm from his wired body until Minho swears he’s dancing with the stars and melts into the touch that tortures him oh so sweetly.
Chanisn’t totally heartless though, he knows some limits, so he milks just one more orgasm from the whining boy in his lap, before cumming himself.
He groans, white shooting out of him and sticking in between his fingers and Minho’s spent, pulsing pink dick. Chan chuckles, satisfied.
Minho was gonna get him back for that little stunt, but they both knew it would be fun to see what they could come up with.
“You okay, baby?” He traces a semi-apologetic hand over Minho’s flushed cheeks. So cute.
The brunette nods, breath still heavy, but steadier. The alcohol had worn off, but Minho was still as playful as ever.
“Please tell me you recorded that,” he says, still reeling from the pleasure.
Chan laughs. “No, we weren’t in the sound booth.”
Minho pouts. “....You wanna go again?” He traces a finger up the others chest, eyes gleaming teasingly.
Chan smirks. Seems payback was coming sooner than he thought. He couldn’t let Minho have all the fun though.
“What was that you said about being on your knees, baby?”