Archive of Our Own

Changbin had learned a lot about Seungmin since he’d joined the force as a consulting detective. Try as he might, he found himself unable to deny the man’s obvious mental prowess. While he was obnoxiously cocky at times, Changbin had to admit that, for the most part, it was earned.

He learned that Seungmin would stop at nothing to prove a point, even an inconsequential one.

But Changbin also learned that as much as Seungmin enjoyed being right, he also enjoyed being corrected. Or, more accurately, he enjoyed being a brat.

Sometimes, the lanky consultant would say things so downright ridiculous that Changbin couldn’t help but scoff and deny the possibility. It was those moments in which Seungmin would eye him with a sharp gaze and a pleased smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Changbin understood rather quickly that Seungmin only did it to get a rise out of him. And yet, he couldn’t help the emotional reaction he had to some of Seungmin’s more annoying habits—including, though not limited to: saying their best culprit for any given case was a ghost, ghoul, or other supernatural being; sticking post-it notes on the back of Changbin’s coat, across his paperwork, and even on the inside of his locked briefcase; refusing to elaborate on how he came to certain conclusions, only to smirk infuriatingly when they were proven correct; and, of course, flustering Changbin with the occasional compliment or innuendo.

That last habit was easily the most jarring of the lot.

Something about his deadpan delivery and lack of expression made it all the more confusing when Seungmin would suddenly eye Changbin up and down and say something about how his new trousers “cut a nice figure.” Or the times when they were in the middle of arguing—Changbin’s face red and chest heaving in annoyance—and Seungmin would lean back, go quiet, smile softly, and chuckle “cute.”

It stopped Changbin in his tracks every time. He’d immediately forget what he was in the middle of saying, or even what he had been upset about. And it was often all he could do to sputter out an excuse, run off, and collect himself.

And things only got worse after that night—the night that Changbin had saved Seungmin from getting shot and stupidly brought him home instead of dropping him off at the hospital afterwards, like a responsible chief of police should have.

After two glasses of whiskey, two months of tension, and a near-death experience, neither of them could deny the momentum that had urged them towards each other that evening.

It was a night of physical comfort and emotional turmoil for Changbin, who couldn’t be certain if Seungmin was actually invested in him, or was using him as a momentary cure to boredom.

Unfortunately, while Changbin was worrying about the truth of Seungmin’s heart, he should’ve been worrying about all of the new ammunition their evolving relationship would provide the younger man.

As their relationship developed, he quickly learned that an emboldened, confident Seungmin was far worse than a reserved, teasing one.

Changbin had a far more difficult time holding himself together when teasing comments and innuendos evolved into fleeting touches and whispered fantasies.

It didn’t take Seungmin long to find the absolute limit of Changbin’s patience. In hindsight, he was probably looking for it on purpose.

They were both in his office, and Changbin was finishing the write up for their last crime scene while Seungmin loitered. He was sitting in a plush armchair directly across the Changbin’s desk, angled so that he had a view of the entire precinct.

“It’s a shame—all these glass walls.” Seungmin said.

Changbin hummed in response, not giving much mind to what seemed like just another one of Seungmin’s random comments. Until he followed it up…

“I mean, wouldn’t it be nice if you could just lock the door and fuck me over your desk?”

The words had Changbin nearly breaking his keyboard, as his next keystrokes landed far harder than intended.

“Seungmin,” he hissed out, shoulders tensing. “You can’t say shit like that.”

Changbin took in Seungmin’s posture. He was sideways in the chair, legs slung over one of the arms, idly swaying in the air. He was facing the aforementioned glass wall…Changbin clenched his jaw.

Seungmin laughed softly, finally glancing over at him. “What? Are you saying you wouldn’t, if you could?”

“Shut up,” Changbin said, voice tight with tension.

“Come on,” Seungmin went on, voice lilting. “If you really wanted, you wouldn’t even have to stop working. I could just take a seat… do it all myself.”

Seungmin was choosing his words carefully, planting a specific image in Changbin’s head. And against his better judgement, Changbin could feel his dick twitching to attention at the thought.

“Seungmin.” Changbin’s voice was lower this time. A warning. “Not. now.”

“But I’m bored.” Seungmin swung his legs around, sitting up in the chair and all but pouting at Changbin. “Can’t I at least suck you off or something?”

Something snapped in Changbin. Maybe it was just his knuckles, from the way he’d suddenly tightened his hands into fists. Or maybe it was the end of his sanity. Hard to tell.

“Come here,” he said, softly.

He saw the way Seungmin paused, hesitated at the change of tone.

Changbin could tell that he was debating between listening to the order or continuing to act out. Ultimately, curiosity won out, because Seungmin stood up and walked forward until was standing directly in front of the desk.

Changbin leaned back in his chair, giving Seungmin his full attention.

“What do you want?” he prompted. “Hm?”

Seungmin’s mouth opened, then clicked shut. His eyebrows furrowed. “Sorry?”

“I asked what you want,” Changbin repeated calmly. “You wanna get down on your knees and crawl under my desk? Glass walls and all?”

“I—sorry, what?”

Seungmin blinked at him, still clearly thrown, and Changbin let the silence stretch just long enough for the younger man to feel it.

“Of course,” Changbin murmured. “All bark. No bite.”

Seungmin’s mouth parted in offense. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Changbin sat forward, elbows on his desk, entirely calm now. “You talk a lot for someone who can’t even answer a simple question.” His gaze dropped pointedly to the floor in front of him. “How about an order then? Kneel.”

Seungmin froze.

The shock on his face would’ve been funny if Changbin wasn’t so laser-focused on breaking this pattern—on finally getting through all that deliberate provocation and figuring out what the hell Seungmin actually wanted.

“You’re not—” Seungmin started, tone caught between a laugh and a breath.

“You clearly wanted to start something.” Changbin didn’t raise his voice. “I’m not letting you suck me off in my office, but if you’re trying to prove a point, then kneel. Let them believe I’m reprimanding you, or that you’re begging for forgiveness. I don’t really care.”

Seungmin looked down at the carpet, jaw ticking like there was a full argument going on behind his eyes. His fingers flexed once at his sides. He shifted his weight like he might try it, before something in him snapped taut again.

“…No,” he said finally. Quiet. Not smug for once.

Changbin nodded, slow and unsurprised. “Thought so.”

He leaned back in his chair and let the disappointment be obvious. Not exaggerated, just true. Because he wasn’t angry; he was realizing things. Important things.

“All you want is attention,” Changbin said evenly. “And yet you refuse to actually listen long enough to get it.”

The way Seungmin’s eyes flicked up at that, sharp, almost hurt, made something turn over in Changbin’s chest.

Changbin reached for his keys and tossed them across the desk. “Go wait in the car.”

Seungmin blinked. “What?”

“You heard me,” Changbin said, already turning back to his computer.

For a second, Seungmin didn’t move.

Then he swallowed, once, stepped forward, picked up the keys, and—shockingly—left without another word.

The door shut behind him with a soft click, leaving Changbin alone in the quiet hum of the office.

He exhaled long and slow, pressing a palm to his forehead.

Because the moment Seungmin had paused—actually paused—when told to kneel, Changbin had felt something shift. It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t anger. It was… anticipation. Interest. Heat.

And the way Seungmin’s cheeks had gone faintly red, his breath hitching, his eyes wide—god. Changbin wasn’t blind. He saw it.

Maybe the brat routine wasn’t about amusement or entertainment at all. Maybe it was a challenge.

Maybe Seungmin wanted someone who wouldn’t fold. Someone who would catch him and hold him still when he got too sharp, too chaotic, too loud. Someone who could take the chaos he threw at them and give structure back.

Changbin rubbed his face.

He took his time finishing the report, shutting down his computer, locking the office. Each step felt deliberate and anchoring. He needed the breath. Needed the clarity.

By the time he walked into the cool night air and crossed the lot to his car, he was settled and ready to try something new.

Seungmin was already inside, the passenger seat reclined slightly, arms crossed. His expression was pointedly neutral, which told Changbin he was absolutely making a point of keeping his composure.

Changbin slid in, started the car.

Immediately, Seungmin spoke. “So. Can I suck you off while you drive or—”

“No.”

Seungmin’s mouth snapped shut.

Changbin didn’t even look over. He just started driving.

“…You’re in a mood,” Seungmin tried again.

“Mm.”

“What about keeping the uniform on?”

“Not interested,” Changbin said evenly, refusing to rise to Seungmin’s obvious attempt at flustering him.

The disappointed huff beside him was deeply satisfying.

But the longer the silence stretched, the more restless Seungmin became. First, he started shifting his jacket, then tapping one foot, then fidgeting with the zipper of his coat, then drumming a rhythm against the door.

“Sit still,” Changbin said without looking away from the road.

Seungmin froze. Completely. For maybe eight seconds.

Then—tap. Tap-tap.

Changbin sighed. He reached over, wrapped his fingers firmly around Seungmin’s restless hand, and pressed it down into his own thigh.

Seungmin startled like he’d been shocked.

Then after a moment, slowly, deliberately, he began tapping with his other hand.

Changbin hummed. “Alright.”

He eased off the next turn signal and merged into the left lane instead of the right.

“You’re not listening. I’ll just drop you off.”

Seungmin’s tapping stopped instantly.

Changbin finally looked at him. “Sit. Still.”

Seungmin’s jaw flexed. His spine straightened. And for the rest of the drive, he didn’t move a muscle.

When they reached Changbin’s apartment, he got out wordlessly, knowing Seungmin would follow. He didn’t check. He didn’t have to. He heard the door open and shut behind him, heard the soft footsteps trailing a few paces back—quiet, alert, waiting.

Changbin unlocked the door and stepped inside.Seungmin slipped in after him, equally silent. None of his usual wittiness of display.

Changbin walked down the hall toward his bedroom and stopped in the doorway. He heard Seungmin’s steps falter behind him.

Slowly, Changbin turned around.

Seungmin stood there, hands in his jacket pockets, shoulders tense, chin lifted in manufactured confidence. Waiting.

Changbin let his gaze sweep down his body, then back up.

“Try again,” he said softly. “Since you were so eager an hour ago.”

Seungmin blinked. “…Try what?”

“Kneel.”

A flush crept up Seungmin’s neck. “You’re—Changbin, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” Changbin leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, unbothered. “You had a lot of ideas earlier. I’m giving you the chance to follow through.”

Seungmin’s brows lifted with faux offense. “I was joking.”

“Were you?”

“Yes.” Seungmin scowled. “I’m not—”

“Look at you,” Changbin said quietly, stepping closer until he was just within Seungmin’s space. “All that talk. All that attitude. And now you won’t even face the music.”

Seungmin hissed a soft breath, bristling. “You don’t get to just—”

“Hey.” Changbin reached out, brushed a knuckle under Seungmin’s jaw—not lifting it, just reminding him it could be lifted. “If you don’t want this, say no. I’ll stop.”

Seungmin swallowed. Hard. He looked like he wanted to argue, to bite, to reprimand—but every time he opened his mouth, nothing came out.

“So bratty,” Changbin said with a small, knowing smile. “But I think I’m starting to get it.”

Seungmin’s exhale trembled.

Changbin stepped closer again, catching Seungmin’s wrists when he tried to shove his hands deeper into his pockets. He tugged them out, held them loosely, not restraining, just grounding.

“Alright. You don’t have to kneel,” Changbin said. “But don’t pretend you didn’t imagine it.”

Seungmin’s breath hitched audibly. That was all the answer Changbin needed.

He pushed him gently back a step, then another—slow, steady pressure until Seungmin reached the edge of the bed. He resisted, but weakly, like he wanted the excuse to give in.

Changbin checked his eyes. “Still okay with this?”

Seungmin blinked at him, startled by the question. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Changbin pushed him down by the shoulders. Seungmin sat, breath uneven.

“Any more acting out,” Changbin said quietly,”and you won’t get to run from the consequences anymore.”

Seungmin lifted his chin in a final flicker of defiance—one Changbin smoothed away with his thumb.

“Let me handle you,” Changbin murmured. “Since you clearly want it.”

“Then tell me what you want,” he whispered back.

And Changbin—finally, finally—smiled.

Changbin’s smile lingered just long enough for Seungmin to notice it and grow visibly irritated that he had.

“I asked you,” Seungmin said, trying for snide and landing somewhere closer to breathless, “what you want.”

“And I heard you.” Changbin straightened, taking him gently by the jaw. “But that’s not how this works.”

Seungmin blinked up at him, stiffening at the touch even as he leaned into it almost imperceptibly.

“You don’t get to provoke me all day,” Changbin said, tone light, “and then think you’ll be the one asking questions.”

“I wasn’t provoking—”

“Wrong.” Changbin’s thumb pressed lightly into the hinge of Seungmin’s jaw, silencing him. “Try again.”

Seungmin bristled. “I was just—”

“Try again.” Calm. Immoveable.

Seungmin’s mouth opened… then shut. His eyes darted to the side for a moment, then back to Changbin’s. His breath stalled in his chest like he suddenly couldn’t coordinate it.

“…Fine,” he muttered. “I was provoking you.”

“Good.” Changbin released his jaw, only to catch the front of Seungmin’s shirt and tug him a little closer. “So now you’re going to listen.”

Seungmin scoffed, but the sound was weak, shaky around the edges. “You think ordering me around is going to—”

“Yes.” Changbin dropped a knee onto the bed, between Seungmin’s legs, crowding his space. “Because you haven’t stopped shaking since I told you to kneel. And I get the sense you’re still thinking about it.”

“I’m not”

Changbin reached down, took one of Seungmin’s hands, and held it up between them. His fingers were trembling. Barely, but enough.

Seungmin’s eyes widened in mortification.

Changbin tapped two fingers against Seungmin’s thigh. “Open.”

“What—”

“You heard me.”

Seungmin hesitated… then shifted, spreading his knees wider on the edge of the bed. Allowing Changbin to press closer, putting just the slightest of pressure against his aching core.

Changbin hummed his approval. “Better.”

Seungmin’s face burned.

“Now,” Changbin said, voice dipping low, “we’re going to talk about earlier.”

Seungmin groaned, throwing his head back. “Oh my god—”

“You said you wanted to sit under my desk.” Changbin tilted his head. “But just now you couldn’t even drop to your knees when I asked.”

“That was different.”

“Why?”

“Because—” Seungmin gestured uselessly, fingers twitching like they wanted something to hold onto. “Because that was just—I don’t know—talk.”

“And what is this?” Changbin asked, pressing his knee forward, hands braced on either side of Seungmin’s hips on the mattress. “Hmm?”

Seungmin’s breath hitched, but he forced his expression flat. “You’re trying to make a point.”

“No.” Changbin leaned in just enough that Seungmin had to tilt his head back to maintain eye contact. “I’m trying to prove your point.”

Seungmin’s jaw tightened. “And what if I say stop?”

“Then we stop.” Absolutely unshaken. “No hesitation.”

Something in Seungmin’s posture loosened by barely a centimeter, so subtle someone else might have missed it. Changbin didn’t.

He lifted a hand to the back of Seungmin’s neck, fingers threading into the soft hair there, holding just enough to steady him.

“Now,” Changbin murmured, “show me something.”

Seungmin stared back defiantly. “Show you what?”

“Respect.”

Seungmin made a small, incredulous noise. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Put your hands behind your back.”

Seungmin stiffened. “Why?”

“Because I said so.”

The challenge in Changbin’s voice hit its mark—Seungmin’s breath caught, pupils dialing wider.

He held still for several seconds… then slowly, grudgingly, tucked his hands behind himself.

Changbin watched every inch of the movement, the tension, the hesitation, the moment where compliance and pride collided behind Seungmin’s eyes.

“Good boy.”

Seungmin jolted like he’d been struck. “Don’t—”

Changbin cut him off with a quiet, knowing smile. “Like that one?”

“You can’t just—”

“I can,” Changbin murmured, “and I think you like it more than you want to admit.”

Seungmin’s chest rose sharply. “Changbin—”

Changbin’s thumb brushed the corner of Seungmin’s mouth. “Take a breath.”

Seungmin inhaled shakily.

“Now,” Changbin murmured, leaning in just a fraction closer, “one more thing.”

Seungmin shivered. “W-what?”

“Look at me.”

Seungmin looked, and there it was again. That split-second surrender. That flicker of want so raw and unguarded it hit Changbin low in the spine.

Then Seungmin tried to mask it with a scoff.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Not as much as you are.” Changbin’s knee rubbed against the obvious hardness at Seungmin’s crotch.

Seungmin opened his mouth—probably to deny it, probably to throw another half-formed insult—but Changbin cut him off gently, pressing a finger to his lips.

“Stop talking.”

Seungmin froze. His eyes narrowed. Then widened. Then narrowed again—like his brain couldn’t decide which reaction would make him look less thrown off.

Changbin lowered his hand only after Seungmin gave a tiny, reluctant nod.

“Hands stay where they are,” Changbin added.

Seungmin shifted his arms slightly behind himself, testing the position. It pushed his chest forward and kept is movement restricted. His pulse jumped at his throat.

“You’re doing well,” Changbin said.

Seungmin’s expression crumpled into immediate suspicion. “Don’t be patronizing.”

“Funny,” Changbin replied casually, circling to stand directly beside him. “Earlier today you were begging for my attention. Now you’re flinching every time you get it.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Shh.” Changbin tapped Seungmin’s knee lightly. “Quiet.”

Changbin let the silence stretch. Let Seungmin sit there, unable to figure out why his own body wouldn’t cooperate with his intended defiance.

“You know,” Changbin continued after a moment, “you talk like you’d jump my bones any moment I let you.”

Seungmin huffed, trying to bite back his reaction.

“And yet here we are,” Changbin said softly. “My apartment. My room. No glass walls. No audience. And it almost seems like you’re scared to move.”

Seungmin bristled instantly. “I’m not afraid—”

“Then show me,” Changbin cut in.

Seungmin blinked. “... How?”

“That’s up to you,” Changbin said. “If you’re as bold as you pretend to be… now’s the time to prove it.”

It was a trap. Seungmin knew it. Every neuron in his brain fired in warning.

And yet—

His breath quickened. His fingers pressed into his palms. His lips parted like he wanted to speak but couldn’t find anything worth saying.

Changbin watched him. Seconds ticked by.

Seungmin didn’t move.

Changbin tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. “Waiting for instructions?”

Seungmin’s ears went red instantly. “Shut up.”

He stepped closer, close enough that Seungmin automatically straightened his posture, shoulders rolling back, chin lifting—some instinctive attempt at composure.

Changbin reached out and touched two fingers under his chin.

“Up.”

Seungmin’s gaze jerked to his. “What?”

“Look up.”

Seungmin hesitated… then lifted his face slowly, eyes following Changbin’s hand.

“Still listening,” Changbin murmured with a faint smile. “That’s good.”

“I’m not—this isn’t—” Seungmin sputtered.

“Shh.”

Seungmin’s mouth shut again.

Changbin leaned in, speaking low but clear. “You know what the difference is between the things you say and the things you actually want?”

Seungmin swallowed hard. “No.”

“You might know what you say,” Changbin said. “But only I know what you want.”

Seungmin’s breath stuttered.

“And I’ll help you get it,” he continued, voice firm but not sharp, “but only if you listen to me.”

Changbin waited.

Seungmin pressed his lips together, tension flickering in his jaw.

Changbin’s voice softened. “Seungmin.”

The younger man lifted his eyes.

“You know what I’m going to ask.”

Color rose across Seungmin’s cheekbones. “Changbin—”

“What’s the problem? No glass walls. No audience. Just us.”

Seungmin’s throat bobbed. “It’s not—I didn’t—You can’t just expect—”

“Do you want to get on your knees for me,” he asked slowly, “or not?”

Seungmin blinked once. Twice. His lips parted. Closed. His chest rose too quickly, breath uneven, like the air had thickened around them.

“That’s what I thought,” Changbin murmured.

“No,” Seungmin blurted, voice cracking in the middle of the word.

“No?” Changbin echoed, raising a brow.

“No, that’s not—I didn’t say no—I meant—” Seungmin’s face flushed violently as he tripped over the words. “Stop twisting it.”

“Then answer the question.” Changbin’s voice didn’t waver. “Do you want to kneel?”

Seungmin’s eyes darted to the floor, then back up with desperate defiance. “Don’t make me—”

“I’m not making you.” Changbin stepped between his knees again, hands braced on either side of him on the mattress. “I’m asking.”

Seungmin’s entire body shuddered with the effort to keep still.

“You keep pushing me,” Changbin said quietly. “Now I’m pushing back. If you don’t want it, say it.”

Seungmin’s entire posture crumpled by a fraction, barely noticeable, but real. His knees pressed a little wider around Changbin’s thigh.

Changbin saw it. Felt it.

“Let me hear you,” Changbin whispered. “Do you want to kneel for me?”

A beat.

Two.

Then, in the smallest, rawest voice Changbin had ever heard from him:

“…yes.”

Changbin inhaled slowly, evenly—because if he didn’t, he’d grab Seungmin too fast, too hard, and he wanted this exact moment burned into him.

“Good,” he murmured, thumb stroking along Seungmin’s jaw. “Say it again.”

Seungmin’s eyelids fluttered. “Changbin…”

“Again.”

Seungmin’s breath trembled. “Yes.”

Changbin smiled, soft, devastating, and triumphant. “Then do it.”

Seungmin’s breath left him in a single, shuddery exhale. His jaw tightened. His eyes narrowed. His pride visibly flailed.

And yet, slowly…

Seungmin slid off the bed and sank to his knees.

He glared up at Changbin once he was settled, expression twisted somewhere between mortification and simmering, restless want.

Changbin’s breath caught for half a second.

He hadn’t expected him to look like that.

“Beautiful,” Changbin murmured, voice lower than he meant it to be.

Seungmin’s eyes flickered, anger flaring for just a moment, almost immediately smothered by something more muddled, more vulnerable.

“Don’t—” he started.

“Don’t what?” Changbin asked, stepping closer, careful, measured. “Don’t tell you you’re stunning?”

Seungmin glared harder.

Changbin smiled just slightly.

“Then I’ll just think it,” he said.

Seungmin let out a shaky, furious exhale.

Changbin crouched a little, bringing himself level with Seungmin’s eyes without touching him.

“You did good,” he said softly.

Seungmin went scarlet.

Changbin moved in close before Seungmin could second-guess himself.

He slid his fingers into Seungmin’s hair slowly, giving him time, giving him control, even though the sight alone nearly knocked the restraint out of him.

Seungmin leaned into the touch. Just barely. But enough.

“Good,” Changbin murmured, and god, he felt the word more than he heard it. “Kneeling suits you.”

He watched the retort form, saw the twitch of Seungmin’s mouth—his pride scrambling for purchase—but nothing came out. Just a shaky breath.

Changbin smiled. He couldn’t help it.

There was something devastatingly honest about Seungmin at that moment.

Changbin tilted Seungmin’s head back, enjoying the startled inhale he got for it, the perfect line of his throat opening up under the light.

“Still got something smart to say?” Changbin asked, keeping his voice soft on purpose.

Seungmin swallowed, his voice small. “No.”

Changbin felt that one hit him low.

He moved in closer, letting his lips find the column of Seungmin’s neck. He could feel the heat of him, the way Seungmin’s whole body reacted without meaning to.

“Look at you,” Changbin whispered against his skin. “All that fight gone the second I get you beneath me.”

Seungmin tried to bite back, he could see it, but Changbin brushed his thumb along the sharp line of his jaw, and the tension melted right out of him. The surrender was subtle, but real.

“I’m not—” Seungmin started.

Changbin hummed, lightly scraping his teeth against his pulse point. Seungmin shivered.

“You are,” Changbin said. His thumb traced the edge of Seungmin’s bottom lip. “And you’re gorgeous.”

The reaction was instant—Seungmin’s eyes fluttered shut for a heartbeat, his throat bobbing with another swallowed breath. When he opened them again, something in them had cracked open.

Changbin saw it. He felt honored by it, weirdly. He stepped back a half-step.

“What to do with you now…” Changbin murmured.

Seungmin breathed his name—half warning, half something else entirely. “Bin…”

Changbin cupped his jaw again, pulling him closer.

“What?” he asked, keeping his voice low, even, warm. “You want me to stop?”

He expected hesitation. A pause. A struggle. But Seungmin doesn’t even blink.

“No.”

That answer went straight to Changbin’s dick. He swallowed hard, tried to keep his reaction from showing, and failed.

“Then let me,” he said. And it came out rougher than he planned. “Let me keep going.”

He could feel the moment Seungmin broke.

“Yeah,” he whispered. Then, in nearly a whine, “please.”

Changbin’s composure snapped clean in half.

“Fuck, get back on the bed.”

Changbin didn’t wait for Seungmin to listen before he was hauling the smaller man up by an arm and tossing him onto the mattress.

Seungmin made something akin to a squeak when he bounced a bit upon landing.

“Seung,” Changbin’s voice was low. “You have to tell me if it’s too much—because I don’t know if I can—”

“Please,” Seungmin repeated.

“—hold back,” Changbin finished, looking down at Seungmin in awe.

Seungmin grabbed the front of Changbin’s shirt, pulling him down so that he was directly above him.

“Please,” he whispered again, “don’t hold back.”

“Fuck, Seung,” Changbin groaned, low in his throat. “C’mere.”

He maneuvered Seungmin until the younger man was lying on his back, head hanging off the side of the bed, Changbin still standing above him.

One of Changbin’s hands automatically found Seungmin’s throat. His other one went to his own waistband.

The clinking of Changbin’s belt coming undone is punctuated by Seungmin’s cut off gasps as Changbin’s fingers begin tracing his adam’s apple.

“I’ve been thinking about this since the moment you suggested it.”

Changbin’s pants slid down his legs. He took his cock in hand, giving himself a few strokes and humming at the stimulation.

“Your filthy mouth,” he said, bringing a hand to Seungmin’s lips, pressing in with two fingers. “Filthy ideas.”

Seungmin’s lips wrapped around the fingers, his tongue began to swirl around them. His eyelids fluttered for a moment and then he was looking up at Changbin, pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed.

“It’s enough to drive a man mad.” Changbin watched, enraptured, one hand still lazily pumping his cock.

Seungmin whined, high and long, redoubling his efforts and treating Changbin’s fingers to a preview of what his mouth was truly capable of.

“Good,” Changbin murmured, his voice near reverent. “You’re so fucking good for me.”

Changbin pulled his fingers away slowly.

Seungmin’s tongue darted out, tracing his own lips. He tilted his head back, keeping eye contact with Changbin until the angle made it impossible, and then he opened his mouth, fully offering himself.

Changbin could feel the heat of Seungmin’s breath across his cock. He couldn’t help himself, he shifted forward just enough to make contact with Seungmin. But rather than go straight for his open mouth, Changbin tapped the head of his dick against Seungmin’s cheek.

He wanted a moment to just take in the sight.

Seungmin groaned in annoyance. “I’ll fucking bite you.”

Changbin couldn’t help but laugh.

“No you won’t,” he said easily. His hand once again found Seungmin’s throat.

Seungmin immediately pressed himself into the touch.

“You want me too bad.”

Changbin couldn’t see Seungmin’s expression, but he could feel the way the younger man rolled his eyes.

And then Changbin pushed forward, his dick finally finding the wet heat of Seungmin’s mouth.

Seungmin was quick to seal his lips around Changbin’s length, swirling his tongue around the head, pushing himself up the bed to take more.

“Fuck, Seung. Pinch me if it’s too much.”

That was the only warning Changbin gave before fully sheathing himself down Seungmin’s throat.

The younger gagged, and Changbin moved to pull back, but Seungmin’s hands found his hips and held him close, moaning around Changbin’s dick as he adjusted to its size.

“I should’ve guessed.” Changbin managed to groan out his words as he started thrusting into Seungmin’s mouth. “You just needed to be held down and throat fucked.”

Seungmin made an offended noise, but it morphed into a whine on Changbin’s next thrust.

Changbin chuckled. “Nothing smart left to say anymore? Or are you just having trouble—ah—getting the words out?”

His hand rested loosely around Seungmin’s throat and he could feel the shape of his own dick distending it each time he pushed his hips forward.

“Fuck.” He traced his thumb over the bulge, drawing his hips back and feeling his dick slip out of Seungmin's mouth.

Seungmin’s adam apple bobbed beneath Changbin’s hand.

He was addicted. And if he didn’t want to fuck Seungmin so badly he’d probably just come down his throat. But since the main course was yet to come, he only indulged in a few more thrusts.

He watched, enraptured, as Seungmin twitched beneath him, the younger man’s hips canting up in search of stimulation.

When Changbin finally pulled away he had to wrap a hand around the base of his dick, holding off the orgasm he’d come dangerously close to with a groaned curse.

Seungmin was panting, head hanging limp off the side of the bed, mouth wide open.

“Shit, bin.” His voice was wrecked.

He managed to pull himself upright on the bed, Changbin reaching out to steady him.

Changbin stepped closer, leaning down and pressing his forehead against Seungmin’s.

“You’re so fucking good.”

Seungmin whined in response.

Changbin’s thumbs found their way under the hem of Seungmin’s shirt. He pushed the shirt up inch by inch, knuckles grazing along Seungmin’s ribs, his stomach, the curve of his waist. Every tiny twitch, every breath stutter, every shiver—Changbin felt all of it.

And Seungmin shivered, a whole-body thing that hit Changbin straight in the chest.

“Good,” Changbin murmured, his voice near reverent as he finally pulled the shirt over Seungmin’s head and dropped it to the floor. “You’ve been so fucking good for me.”

He guided Seungmin into laying back on the bed and then continued undressing him, dragging down his pants and underwear in one go.

His own clothes joined them on the floor shortly. And finally, they were pressed skin to skin as Changbin lowered himself over Seungmin, kissing him like a man starved.

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he muttered against Seungmin’s lips.

He felt the younger man grin against him and pulled away to look at him.

“Are you?” Seungmin asked, eyebrow raised, a soft red glow cast across his cheeks.

“...Yes?”

Seungmin’s hands found Changbin’s jaw, cupping his face like something precious and meeting his eyes.

“If you want to fuck me… say please,” he said with a wicked grin.

Changbin studied Seungmin closely, narrowing his eyes. He took in the flushed glow, the wide pupils, the heaving chest. And then he scoffed.

Without another word he was flipping Seunmin around, and pressing him chest-down into the mattress with firm hands. Seungmin was easy to manhandle, going perfectly pliant within his hold, allowing Changbin to guide his arms behind his back until both of his wrists could be held within a single one of Changbin’s hands.

“That was cute.” Changbin leaned down over him, speaking against the shell of his ear. “But you’re not calling the shots.”

He used his free hand to search the sheets for the lube he’d just barely remembered grabbing. Thankfully, the flip cap was perfectly conducive to single-handed maneuvers, so Changbin was able to squeeze some lube directly across the crease of Seungmin’s ass before casting aside the bottle.

He coated his fingers by dragging them through the lube, simultaneously giving Seungmin some much needed contact.

The younger man wiggled beneath him, weakly testing the strength of Changbin’s grip by attempting to tug his wrists free. His face was mushed against the pillows, but he let out a small hum when Changbin’s fingers finally brushed the edge of his hole.

Changbin felt Seungmin’s hole literally pulse beneath his touch. Like a beacon hearing a signal, his dick twitched in response. He clenched his eyes shut for a second, taking a deep breath.

Thus far, their intimate moments had been far more… vanilla. They tended to be on equal footing, and the nights would be full of continuous banter and teasing. Outside of work, Changbin found himself more willing to relax and indulge in Seungmin’s antics, sometimes giving back just as good as he got. So it wasn’t that he was unfamiliar with Seungmin’s body. It was far from the first time he’d fingered the consulting detective open on his bed.

But it was the first time he had him restrained. Letting out soft whimpers at a simple brush of Changbin’s hands. Lost for words. It was the first time Changbin had him… desperate. Submissive.

It would be a lie to say he wasn’t finding it hard to keep control of himself.

He had paused with his fingers resting at the edge of Seungmin’s entrance. And while Changbin took a moment to re-center himself, Seungmin was growing increasingly impatient, resorting to pushing his hips back the best he could under Changbin’s hold.

The motion snapped Changbin back into action. His grip on Seungmin’s wrists tightened again. Seungmin let out a quiet moan.

Changbin dipped his first finger into Seungmin’s heat, marveling at how easily it slid to the second knuckle.

Seungmin was so relaxed and open for him.

The second finger went just as easily, but at the third he could feel a stretch. And it was confirmed by the hitch in Seungmin’s breathing.

Seungmin’s hands clenched into fists where they were being held against his back. His body finally tensing against the intrusion.

Changbin lowered himself, keeping up the pressure of his fingers while dragging his tongue across the curve of Seungmin’s shoulder.

“Open up for me, baby.”

Seungmin turned his head, hiding his face. But he couldn’t hide the rest of his reaction. His hole fluttered and Changbin could feel the way it loosened, allowing his third finger to press inside.

“Mm, so perfect,” he hummed against Seungmin’s skin.

Seungmin whined, body shaking with need. There was a muffled noise.

Changbin leaned in closer. “Hm?”

Another muffled sound.

“Seung,” Changbin’s voice grew more serious. “You have to speak up. Is this still okay?”

Seungmin didn’t respond for a moment.

Changbin’s heartbeat thundered in his ears. Had he pushed too hard, too fast?

Then Seungmin’s head turned sideways and he was free from the pillows with a gasp.

“Please.”

Changbin’s cock heard it before his brain could process.

Again.

“Please.”

“Seung…” Changbin shifted his fingers, still buried in Seungmin’s heat.

Seungmin let out a choked whine.

“Changbin, fuck me, please.”

And once he said it, he couldn’t stop. Seungmin’s moans became a continuous string of pleas as Changbin’s fingers resumed moving inside him.

In mere moments he had them pulled out and was spreading a quick coat of lube across his own dick, moving as efficiently as possible until the moment he had his dick pressed against Seungmin’s ass, sliding between his cheeks, teasing his hole.

“Please, please, please,” Seungmin continued, already at the edge of breathlessness.

Changbin positioned himself so that the head of dick caught against Seungmin’s entrance… and then he pushed forward.

At the same time, he released Seungmin’s wrists, instead taking one in each hand and pressing them on either side of Seungmin’s head.

His cock sunk into Seungmin’s ass until their hips were flush.

Seungmin was trembling beneath him and his pleading had shifted into unintelligible muttering broken by a long moan the moment Changbin pulled back and began properly thrusting into him.

Fucking Seungmin was always an incredible experience, even from the first night, but none of their evenings together had ever been quite like this.

Changbin could hardly keep track of the words spilling out of his mouth as he got lost in the tightness of the man beneath him.

“So good. So fucking good. You just needed to be put in your place—given some instruction. Just needed—ahh—a good fucking.”

He pounded into Seungmin, bouncing them both atop the mattress. His mouth found the side of Seungmin’s neck, nibbling at it. When Seungmin tilted his head to give him better access he let himself actually bite down—not hard enough to break skin, but just enough to keep himself steady.

With a low groan he snapped his hips forward, grinding himself deep and staying there for a moment. He basked in the closeness of being pressed skin to skin with Seungmin, cock buried to the hilt in his perfect ass.

He canted his hips in a couple short thrusts, punching deep inside Seungmin in a way that had the younger man crying out.

It was a short-lived interlude. He couldn’t resist chasing the friction of longer thrusts, and after a brief bit of deep grinding, he resumed his longer, punishing thrusts.

Without any conscious thought, he began speeding up. At some point his hands had left Seungmin’s wrists and found his waist, pulling him back against each thrust.

Seungmin’s hands remained above his head, as though he couldn’t imagine moving them from where Changbin had left them.

The sight made Changbin’s head swim. Seungmin was stretched out beneath him, perfect body on display, soft skin beneath his fingers, heat around his cock. He was allowing Changbin to manhandle him onto his cock, not putting up an ounce of fight. Perfectly pliant. Perfectly tight. Perfectly positioned. Perfectly perfect. Perfect. Perfect.

At some point he began saying it outloud. Like a mantra with each thrust.

“Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.”

Seungmin keened beneath him, arching his back as much as he could.

“M’gonna—” Changbin cut himself off with a groan.

“Me too.” Suengmin’s words came out frantic, buried within a slew of desperate sounds as he begged Changbin to keep going.

Changbin’s hips snapped of their own accord, pushing Seungmin up to the edge. His brutal pace had the double effect of rubbing Seungmin’s hard dick against the sheets where it was trapped beneath him.

Between the stimulation of both sides, Seungmin was gradually breaking down into a puddle of whimpers.

Changbin could tell the moment he came because his ass tightened impossibly tight and his mumbled world became a single, drawn out cry.

Changbin pounded him through it with one, two, three more thrusts and then he was pulling out, stroking his cock rapidly and coming across Seungmin’s cheeks and lower back with a cry of his own.

His cum painted Seungmin’s backside, dripping across it as the younger man shook through the aftershocks of his own orgasm.

Changbin felt hypnotized as he spread Seungmin’s ass, watching a string of his own cum stretch between the cheeks before dripping down directly across his hole.

He breathed out a curse and once more brought the head of his dick to Seungmin’s entrance, pressing forward until it popped back in.

They both moaned in overstimulation. And yet Changbin couldn’t help a few gentle thrusts. He watched as Seungmin sucked him in, still desperate despite the fact that they had both just come.

Seungmin whimpered as though it hurt, and then he shifted backward, further onto Changbin’s dick.

“Holy hell, Seung.”

Seungmin only hummed, hands clenching and unclenching in the sheets. He was gone. His whole body was as wrecked as his throat had been. And yet he was still open for more.

Unfortunately, Changbin’s dick was gradually going soft. Although he knew he would be able to get hard again within minutes, he also knew that this was a new experience for both of them. And as compelling as the sight of a desperate, overstimulated Seungmin writhing beneath him was… he knew now wasn’t the time to push any further.

He slipped out of the detective and rubbed a flat palm across his back—not for control this time, but comfort.

They would have plenty of time in the future to explore further. At least, Changbin found himself hoping so.