╰┈➤ ❝ Fuck them. ❞
— pairing: c.sb x c.yj
Rating: nsfw 🔞
Wc: 2.7k
Warnings/tags: smut, second chance, exes yeonbin, ass eating, anal sex, oral sex, top Choi soobin, bottom Choi Yeonjun, kinda switch, semi public sex
Summary: Soobin‘s eyes can‘t leave Yeonjun at the Christian Dior after party.
Song: Call Out My Name - The Weeknd
───── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────
The evening goes according to plan.
The boys are ready for their appearance at Christian Dior. Usually, it’s easy for Yeonjun to switch off everything else and focus solely on the job. But tonight, that switch doesn’t seem to work.
It’s been over a year since he and Soobin broke up. The reason? Work. The fans. The pressure. A million little things that added up to a painful decision.
They used to be inseparable — heart and soul. But Soobin, always the responsible leader, was the one who suggested they end things. For their own good, he had said. For the sake of their future.
He didn’t seem to struggle with it. These days, he even shares an apartment with Beomgyu.
Yeonjun, on the other hand, never truly recovered. Some nights hit harder than others — nights like this one, when memories sneak up on him, uninvited and unwelcome.
He had believed they were meant to be.
As if fate had written them in the stars.
Maybe he was wrong.
And now, on the day of the show, those same thoughts keep crawling back.
Because unfortunately, Soobin looks more than just good tonight. Something about him is different lately. The fans adore him — and Yeonjun does too, more than he’ll ever admit.
But at what cost?
He doubts he’ll ever get to see him, touch him, love him like before.
From across the waiting area, his gaze lingers just a moment too long. Soobin’s wearing a tailored blue suit. Is he even wearing anything under the blazer?
“Yeonjunie-hyung,” Beomgyu nudges him.
Yeonjun hadn’t noticed it’s already their turn. He falls in line behind Soobin as they head out.
The moment they step onto the red carpet, they’re met with a storm of flashes and shouting photographers.
***
“Nice work, everyone,” Soobin praises the members once they’re back inside.
“Let’s grab something to eat — the after-party’s about to start.”
On the way there, Yeonjun walks ahead with Taehyun, deep in conversation.
Soobin trails behind, unusually quiet.
Tonight is harder than expected. He’s trained himself to stay in control — to stay distant — but tonight, Yeonjun makes it damn near impossible.
The exposed back, the slightly longer hair, the way he carries himself — it’s too much.
Too familiar.
Soobin can’t help thinking about the time before everything got complicated. Before he had to pull away.
Had to.
Yeonjun doesn’t know, but one evening, their manager pulled Soobin aside.
What followed was one of the most uncomfortable conversations he’s ever had.
There were rumors. Proof.
Photos that never should’ve seen the light of day.
The manager had asked — no, urged — him to end things, for the sake of the group’s image. No scandals. No distractions. No headlines that could taint everything they’d worked for.
So Soobin did what was asked of him. Slowly, silently, he distanced himself.
The conversation with Yeonjun afterward… didn’t go well.
But Yeonjun had understood. Or at least pretended to.
Moving into separate dorms made it easier. The mask became routine. Professional, friendly, distant — just enough to fool the public.
Yeonjun played the role perfectly. So did he.
But Soobin still sees that flicker in Yeonjun’s eyes when they meet — a flicker of something real.
And it breaks him a little more each time.
Tonight… tonight, he had convinced himself he was over it. But Yeonjun, the way he looks, the way he watches — he’s stirring something in Soobin that he’s tried too hard to bury.
***
Later, after the buffet, Soobin stands at a round table with Beomgyu and Kai.
“Another glass of champagne, sir?” a waiter asks.
He nods, wordless, and takes one from the tray.
“Hyung… maybe switch to water now? That’s your sixth,” Kai says gently. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just a long night,” Soobin replies shortly.
Kai and Beomgyu fall into a deep conversation about some new game. Normally, Soobin would chime in. Tonight, he doesn’t. His mind is elsewhere.
He’s been watching Yeonjun from afar for hours now, seated at a nearby table with Taehyun and a few guests.
They laugh, drink, talk. And Yeonjun… he’s glowing under the soft lights, dressed like a dream. Compliments float his way from every direction — some far too flirtatious.
Soobin hates how much he cares.
Every look, every smile, every flick of his fingers makes Soobin miss him more.
He misses the way Yeonjun used to arch beneath him, how he used to moan his name.
Maybe… maybe tonight is the night to stop pretending.
To stop obeying rules that were never fair.
The others would want their hyungs to be happy — wouldn’t they?
Taehyun gets caught in conversation with an actor, giving Yeonjun a brief moment alone.
He goes toward the snack buffet, eyes scanning the options.
Then he feels it — a hand on his wrist, firm and familiar.
A soft tug. No need to look.
He knows that grip.
Without a word, Soobin guides him away from the crowd, weaving through the guests. Yeonjun follows, heartbeat quickening.
He expects the lounge.
But Soobin takes a turn — toward the back, toward the fitting rooms.
“Where are we going?” Yeonjun asks, his voice barely audible.
No response.
At the end of the hallway, Soobin opens a door, gently pulls him inside, then shuts it behind them.
Seconds later, Yeonjun finds himself pinned between the cold wood of the door and the warmth of Soobin’s body.
Confused, breathless, lips parted slightly — his eyes are wide and searching.
That pout of his... Soobin remembers every version of it.
“I can’t pretend anymore, Hyung. Not when we still exist.”
Before Yeonjun can speak, Soobin leans in — and kisses him.
It’s slow at first, hesitant. Then deeper. Needier. A kiss that tastes like all the months of holding back.
Yeonjun melts into it, arms wrapping around Soobin’s neck.
“I missed you, Bin,” he breathes between kisses.
A tear slips from the corner of his eye. Soobin catches it with his thumb.
“I missed you too.”
Soobin leans back into the kiss, deeper this time, like he’s trying to make up for every moment they lost. His hands roam Yeonjun’s back, pulling him closer, needing to feel him pressed against his chest.
Without breaking the kiss, Soobin walks them further into the room. Yeonjun stumbles slightly, lips never parting, until his knees hit the edge of the low sofa. Soobin eases down onto it, guiding Yeonjun onto his lap.
“You look fucking unreal tonight,” he murmurs against Yeonjun’s lips, hands sliding down his waist.
“I couldn’t stop looking at you. Couldn't stop wanting you.”
Yeonjun straddles him now, knees on either side, his chest heaving. The words make something snap inside him.
“And I missed this…” Soobin’s voice is low, almost reverent, as he trails his fingers beneath the hem of Yeonjun’s shirt.
“All of this. Your body. The sounds you make when you can't hold back…”
Yeonjun can’t take it anymore. His mouth is on Soobin’s neck, kissing, biting lightly, dragging his lips down to his collarbone. His fingers move to undo the buttons of Soobin’s blazer revealing toned abs and familiar skin that still makes his stomach flip.
He kisses down his chest. Then he looks up — lips swollen — and slips off Soobin’s lap, down onto his knees.
The sight alone knocks the air from Soobin’s lungs.
Yeonjun’s hands are slow, as they slide up Soobin’s thighs. His touch is warm and purposeful, lingering where the tension is already unbearable. He palms the hard outline in Soobin’s pants who exhales a ragged breath, his head tipping back.
“Still so loud for me,” Yeonjun smirks, voice low and teasing.
He undoes the zipper slowly and pulls him free — already rock hard.
Yeonjun leans in, tongue flicking out to taste the tip, eyes never leaving Soobin’s. A moan escapes Soobin’s throat as Yeonjun wraps his lips around him, slow and deep, taking his time.
He moves like he knows every inch of him — because he does. His hand pumps where his mouth doesn’t reach, making Soobin grip the sofa cushions, trying and failing to stay quiet.
“Soobin…” he murmurs when he comes up for air, his lips slick.
“I missed this too. Missed having you fall apart for me.”
Soobin grabs him by the chin, pulls him up roughly, crashes their mouths together in a kiss. There’s no space between them — Yeonjun’s already grinding against him, both of them too far gone to care who hears, who finds them.
“Turn around,” Soobin breathes against his ear. “Hands on the backrest.”
Yeonjun obeys without a word, turning around and leaning over the armrest, ass arched just enough to drive Soobin mad. He hears the rustle of clothing, the sound of Soobin spitting into his palm, then slick fingers sliding between his cheeks.
“You’re already shaking for me…” Soobin growls, one hand gripping his hip while the other works him open, slowly.
“Say it,” Soobin demands, voice right at his neck now. “Say you still want me.”
“I want you,” Yeonjun gasps, pressing back against him. “I fucking need you.”
That’s all it takes. Soobin thrusts in — hard. The breath punches out of Yeonjun’s lungs, his hands clenching into fists against the backrest. It hurts in the best way — like something that was always meant to happen, finally happening again.
There’s no space for anything but the rhythm of their bodies — the wet slap of skin, the low grunts, Yeonjun’s broken cries every time Soobin hits just the right spot.
Soobin thrusts and Yeonjun's gasp echoes off the walls. His fingers claw into the backrest, but nothing steadies him — not when Soobin fills him so deep.
“F-fuck—” Yeonjun whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as Soobin rolls his hips, dragging every inch out just to push back in deeper. Slow at first then harder, faster, until the rhythm becomes brutal.
Soobin groans low.
“You take me so well. Still so tight for me… like your body’s been waiting for this.” Yeonjun lets out a high, broken sound his thighs already trembling. Each thrust sends another wave of heat through him, his cock aching, leaking against the cushion.
Soobin grabs his hips tighter, fingers digging in, leaving marks Yeonjun will feel tomorrow.
“You’re so fucking hot like this,” he grits out. “Fucked out and shaking for me.”
“Bin…” Yeonjun moans, voice wrecked, hips stuttering as Soobin slams in again, and again, until his legs nearly give out.
Soobin leans over, licking a stripe up Yeonjun’s spine before whispering filth into his ear.
“You remember how loud you used to get for me? Let’s see if you still can.”
And Yeonjun does — each thrust has him moaning shamelessly now, skin flushed, hair sticking to his forehead, body arching. He feels himself spiraling, nerves on fire.
Soobin slides a hand around, finally wrapping it around Yeonjun’s cock, stroking slow and tight, timed to his rhythm — and Yeonjun screams his name.
“Fucking look at you,” Soobin pants. “So messy for me. So perfect.”
Yeonjun’s voice cracks as he sobs out, “I— I’m close—”
His whole body is tense. His hips twitch helplessly into Soobin’s fist, lost in the feeling, every part of him raw and wrecked in the best way.
“Come for me, baby. Let me see you lose it.”
And Yeonjun does — loud, raw,. Soobin follows seconds after, buried deep, gasping his name like it’s the only word he knows.
They collapse together, tangled limbs and sweaty skin, silence settling heavy around them. Only the sound of breathing, and a soft, shaky laugh from Yeonjun.
“I can’t believe you just dragged me in here like that,” he whispers, smiling against Soobin’s shoulder.
“I couldn’t hold back anymore,” Soobin admits, brushing the damp hair from his face.
“I don’t want to pretend. Not with you. Not ever again.”
“I don’t want to keep pretending too,” Yeonjun murmurs, his voice tight. “But if the staff finds out….”
Soobin stands and fetches a handful of tissues, cleaning the mess. He smooths his suit jacket back into place; Yeonjun follows, straightening his own shirt. Soobin brushes a stray hair from his forehead and offers Yeonjun a teasing smile.
“This,” he says, voice low, “is definitely a problem for Future Us.”
Yeonjun hesitates, then nods. “Let’s find the others and head back to the hotel. I feel like there’s something we missed the whole year…”
Soobin gives his hair one last once-over in the mirror as they step out of the fitting room.
They weave through the after‑party crowd without running into anyone, and quickly spot the rest of the members lounging by the bar. Soobin’s tone is casual:
“Alright, everyone, let’s wrap it up—manager’s waiting with the cars.”
On the ride back, the usual separation: Yeonjun in one car, Soobin in another. Soobin settles between Beomgyu and Kai, who both shoot him knowing looks.
“Kai clears his throat. “Hyung… you okay? You look… unusually relaxed.”
Soobin leans back, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Never felt better.”
Beomgyu laughs softly. “Sounds ominous.”
Soobin simply shakes his head, pulls out his phone, and taps open Yeonjun’s chat.
Soobin, 00:30
Meet me in my room No. 99 when you’re ready, the door code is 1309.
Yeonjun, 00:31
What the leader says.
When they reached the hotel, the others headed straight for their separate rooms without a second glance. Yeonjun barely said goodnight before he slipped inside.
He kicked off his shoes, shrugged out of his clothes, and let them fall in a crumpled heap. The second he turned on the shower, hot water went down his back. His shoulders, so often tight with worry, unclenched. His mind, usually racing, finally stilled.
Why did it feel so easy? he wondered.
After a few minutes under the shower, he shut off the water, grabbed a towel, and sat on the edge of the tub. He replayed every gasp, every whisper from the fitting‑room scene.
He grabbed grey sweatpants and a white sleeveless shirt and went down the hallway, hair still wet.
Two doors down, Soobin’s suite light spilled into the corridor. He enters the door code and a second later, Yeonjun was on the balcony, the city lights flickering below.
Soobin handed him a glass beer with a small, triumphant smile. “To us,” he said softly.
“To us,” Yeonjun echoed, and they clinked their glasses.
***
Twenty minutes later, Yeonjun found himself pressed back against the suite’s wall, Soobin’s body flush with his, lips slamming into his. Soobin pulls Yeonjun in direction of his bed and pushes him on the bed roughly.
Soobin shifts beside him on the sheets, breath hot against the other. He pulls back only long enough to tug the shirt free, tossing it aside, then grips the waistband of the elders joggers and eases them down past his knees.
„Turn around, pretty,“ Soobin commands. Without another word Yeonjun follows. Soobin leans forward, pressing a single, open‑mouthed kiss right at the edge of Yeonjun’s ass and pushes his cheeks apart. His hyung gasps, head dropping forward, as Soobin’s tongue flicks teasingly along the rim.
“Oh, fuck—”
Soobin wraps his fingers around Yeonjun’s hip bone, while his tongue dives deeper between those cheeks. Hands against the end of the bed, Yeonjun pushes back, trying to fuck the wet heat of Soobin’s mouth. But Soobin holds him, spitting a bead of saliva into Yeonjun’s entrance before sliding back in.
Saliva drips down Yeonjun’s inner thigh, he lets out a ragged moan. Every flick and swirl of Soobin’s tongue vibrates through his body. Soobin’s free hand slides around to stroke Yeonjun’s shaft.
“That’s it, baby,” Soobin murmurs, voice low and rough. “You like it when I do this, don’t you?”
Yeonjun can barely speak. “Soobin… please—”
Soobin speeds up, his mouth working Yeonjun’s ass with expert rhythm, hand pumping his cock in perfect sync.
„F-fuck.. Bin..“
With one last, deep flick of his tongue, Soobin pushes Yeonjun right to the brink. Yeonjun’s breath stuttering. “I’m so—close—” he gasps. Not even a second later Yeonjun screams out his release, body shuddering, ruining Soobin’s sheets. Soobin gets up after pressing a final kiss on his hyungs cheeks.
“Always,” Soobin whispers, pulling Yeonjun into his arms, “with you.”
They stay there a moment longer, hearts racing, still catching their breaths.
„Soo.. what about the staff?“ Yeonjun asks again.
„Fuck them."