Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1043172.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M, Other, Multi
  Fandom:
      K-pop, B.A.P
  Character:
      Bang_Yongguk, Kim_Himchan, Choi_Junhong_|_Zelo, Jung_Daehyun, Moon
      Jongup, Yoo_Youngjae
  Additional Tags:
      Masturbation, Sexual_Fantasy, Master/Slave, Gangbang, Group_Sex, Pegging,
      Implied_DaeJae_(sort_of), Implied_HimUp_(sort_of), BDSM, Overstimulation,
      Exhibitionism, Taboo, Fantasizing, Orgasm_Delay/Denial, Multiple_Orgasms,
      Dry_Orgasm, Size_Kink, Sexual_exploration, rough_sex_(consensual)
  Series:
      Part 10 of B.A.P_short_fics
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-11-13 Words: 2259
****** Sometimes ******
by almostblue_(fictionalaspect)
Summary
     Prompt: Each BAP member has a secret kink that is their go to action
     of choice when jerking off. What is it?
Notes
     For J, who is crap at being anonymous but I adore her anyways. I
     didn't know how to write the pairings down because it's all
     just...fantasies...but there's a fair variety. A lot of them are left
     open to the reader's interpretation. Thank you to suitofarmour, for
     always being willing to beta and teach me about things like how
     apparently English has a past perfect continuous tense even when I'm
     falling asleep on my keyboard. SHE IS BRILLIANT. ♥
Yongguk knows exactly how everything started. It's seared into his brain like a
film negative. The edges of his memory may be blurry, but the center never is.
It was just some stupid video. Yongguk had been staying up too late working--
and then very deliberately not working--and a wrong click and suddenly he was
not watching the free porn he had clicked on. Yongguk had chosen a nice, normal
video with a hot girl and some guy eating her out and then fucking her while
she moaned and gasped and whimpered.
Normal.
What Yongguk had suddenly been watching was some guy bent over on his knees,
grunting and gasping for air as the woman behind him spread him open and fucked
him with her strap-on.
Yongguk had felt his stomach twist, heat pooling in his stomach and his spine
and all the way down to his cock. This was--not okay. He shouldn't find this
hot. The guy was on his kneesfor fuck's sake, getting fucked in the ass, and
the woman in the video kept licking her lips and smiling.
She had rubbed the small of his back, changing the angle. The man in the video
cried out and reached for his cock and Yongguk had followed suit, his face
burning, biting his lip hard enough to leave track marks that didn't fade away
until the next morning.
Now, he doesn't bother with the formalities. He knows exactly where to find
what he wants to watch, even if he'll take his secret to the grave. He can't
imagine ever--he can't imagine telling anyone, even a girlfriend. Even his
wife, if he ever gets married. Yongguk always thought he wanted a nice girl.
Someone who was passionate about current events the way he was; someone who
supported his creativity while posessing her own. Someone who looked beautiful
in jeans and a snapback. Someone who didn't need or care about cosmetics.
Yongguk still wants all of that.
The problem is that he's starting to think his dream woman is also someone
who'll just shove him down and fuck him in the ass, and--yeah.
It's going to be just him and his computer screen for a long, long time.
--
Himchan is 80% sure that everyone in his band thinks he's secretly in love with
Jongup.
He's not--or he might be, he doesn't really know, but he doesn't think it's
that kind of love. He likes teasing and he likes touching but it's not like any
of maknae line end up in his fantasies.
Sure, he wouldn't turn them down, but that's not really what he wants. Pretty
young things will always be pretty and young, but that's not what sets Himchan
off. It's not what he thinks about at night when he's pressing his face into
his pillow and trying to muffle his whines.
He remembers the first time he saw it. He had been waiting impatiently for the
subway, hands shoved in his pockets, when he noticed the two men next to him.
They were older than him; college age, maybe. Somewhere in their twenties. They
were unremarkable except for the thin band of silver that one man wore around
his neck. It caught the light when he shifted and moved. Himchan had found
himself fascinated. He wanted one.
He had made sure to step on the train right behind them when it arrived, hoping
to get a closer look. Maybe the clasp would say something. Maybe he'd be able
to figure out where it came from.
But the problem was that there was no clasp.
Pressed together on the subway, his face almost in the back of the man's neck,
Himchan had to admit to himself that this necklace--collar--whatever it was--
was soldered on. The man couldn't take it off, unless a metalworker removed it
for him.
It was just--there.
Forever.
Himchan didn't understand until much, much later, when he was out of his teens
and into his twenties, why that thought had made his face heat and his jeans
uncomfortable.
It makes sense now. Himchan gets it. He knows that deep down inside he wants to
be someone's pet; spoiled, pampered, willing to do anything to please. He wants
to belong to someone forever. Just the thought of it makes him gasp. It makes
his stomach run hot and his body ache because he doesn't want to be touching
himself. He wants someone else to be touching him. He wants someone else's
hands pressing into his skin, telling him how much and how long.
He wants to be put on display and told he's beautiful--and then show his
owner's guests just how beautiful he can be.
--
Daehyun doesn't bother with fantasies. All he needs to do is strip his cock and
think about something--anything--and it's done. He wishes he had more staying
power, but at least he can get hard again within 20 minutes. He doesn't want to
let his future wife down. He figures the first one's just a warm-up.
Right?
When Daehyun has time off--which is never--he lies on his bed at home and locks
his door and pretends to be sleeping. He stuffs a thin T-shirt in his mouth and
he's already hard by this point, because he's been thinking about this all day.
Thinking about the moment when he's finally alone, and he can push himself as
far as he can go.
He likes it when his cock is sensitive and sore, when touching himself brings
gasps and moans. He likes it when he pushes himself so hard that he comes clear
and practically dry. By Dae's count, that usually happens around the fourth
orgasm.
His stomach is a mess by then, because he doesn't clean himself up in between.
He just lies there and runs his fingers through the mess and thinks about
someone standing in the doorway. He thinks about someone watching him descend
into a filthy mess, his stomach slick with come, his hands sticky and sore.
His mouth dry from panting but his lips still wet, ready for--anything really.
Whatever that person in the doorway wants. It's always just a figure, an idea
of an image. Daehyun doesn't like to look too closely at the fact that he's not
sure if that someone is male or female.
Either way, it's always enough to make him try for a fifth round.
--
When Youngjae jerks off, he thinks about his best friend.
He realizes that this is incredibly fucked up and wrong and that he's going to
hell. He realizes that he shouldn't be jerking off thinking about guys in the
first place, and especially not Jung Daehyun.
He thinks the sheer filthiness of it is probably what gets him off so hard.
He's been doing it ever since the first time he saw Daehyun naked and hard.
Youngjae doesn't know why that flipped a switch in his brain, but it did. He'd
spent days trying not to think about it and then weeks telling himself that it
was wrong before he'd finally just given up and jerked off to the thought of
jerking Dae off.
Now, Youngjae has an arsenal of fantasies, each one hand-picked and carefully
crafted. Daehyun crawling into his bunk one night and sucking him off, one hand
over Youngjae's mouth so Youngjae stays quiet. Daehyun forcing him into a
bathroom stall and down on his knees and Youngjae trying to take all of his
cock, and failing. Daehyun always pets his hair in that one, rubbing the corner
of his mouth and telling him that it's okay, he knows it's too big for him, he
just wants Youngjae to take as much as he can.
That one gets Youngjae off like a firecracker. He's not really sure why.
When Youngjae is really desperate, when he has five minutes in the shower and
they're late for rehearsal and he knows he's going to go insane if he doesn't
release some tension, he goes straight for the fucking. He pictures Daehyun
crawling into his hotel bed one night, kissing him with that sinful mouth. He
pictures Daehyun knowing how to do everything, somehow, and opening Youngjae up
with his fingers and then slowly pushing in, inch by inch, both of them gasping
and whimpering.
That one is two minutes flat. Youngjae has timed it before. Shampoo,
conditioner, soap, Daehyun fucking him slowly and telling him breathlessly how
tight he is.
Yeah. Yeah, Youngjae knows it's fucked up, but.
Oh well.
--
Jongup doesn't jerk off.
He knows exactly how to do it--it's not rocket science--but he doesn't want to
lose himself. He doesn't want to be lax and lazy and "relieve some stress," as
his bandmates politely suggest from time to time.
When he's dancing, he needs to be as tight as a wire. He needs to be coiled
like a spring and on time and on beat and he just can't do that when something
else is sapping his energy. He likes that feeling of restlessness under his
skin. It pushes him to work harder.
Sometimes Jongup thinks that maybe there's a darker reason, hidden underneath
all of his carefully concocted excuses. Sometimes Jongup thinks that he'll be
afraid of what he'll see.
(Once--just once, when it had become unavoidable--he'd done it in the shower.
He doesn't deny that it feels amazing. Everything is slick and hot and warm. He
likes the weight of his cock in his hand. He likes the thickness of it and the
way dancing allows him to snap his hips as fast or as slow as he wants.
The problem is what Jongup had seen when he stroked himself. The problem is
that Jongup saw things scared him, even as they turned him on. He saw himself
grabbing someone by the hair and petting their lips before forcing his cock
down their throat until they gagged. He saw himself leaving bruises and
bitemarks, so no one else will touch his property. He saw himself wanting to
make someone cry, and then kissing away the tears.
It wasn't until he'd come with a ragged, desperate shout that he'd realized
that person was Himchan.)
So Jongup doesn't jerk off. He dances and he goes for midnight runs and he
pushes himself hard enough to fall into a dreamless sleep every night. He
thinks he's doing well.
Or he would be, if he could just stop shivering every time Himchan touches him.
--
Sometimes Junhong thinks he might be going insane.
There's a part of him that understands that he's 17, and this is probably
perfectly normal. It's the part of him that listens to Himchan and Yongguk's
careful silences, and occasional words of advice. As much as they all joke
around, it's not like anyone ever approaches the topic directly. It's not like
they sit down at the kitchen table and have conversations about jerking off,
because that would be fucking weird.
But sometimes Junhong wishes they would, just so he'd know if he's normal.
On the rare nights that Yongguk is asleep and he's the only one left staring at
the ceiling, it's become his only defense against the energy drinks and
caffeine pills that they all pop like candy. When his heart is racing and he
needs to slow down, but he also needs to be awake in three hours--it's just the
best solution.
It's not that he's still harboring some sort of religious guilt about jerking
off. He's over that. He's not sure he even believes in anything anymore, but he
still wonders if there are depths of depravity that flow deeper than some angry
god.
It starts in their living room. It always does. The person who kisses him may
change, but the scenery doesn't. Sometimes it's Yongguk, pressing him into a
wall with rough kisses that bruise his lips into a mess of red and purple.
Sometimes it's Youngjae, his eyes dancing, moving in closer and closer. A slow
smile breaks out on his face when Junhong doesn't back away, and then they're
kissing, soft and desperate.
Sometimes it's Daehyun. Jongup. Himchan.
Junhong thinks that if he were normal--for certain variations of normal,
anyway--that's where it would end. Sure, maybe it's a little outside the pale,
but Junhong has always been fascinated by things he can't have. The problem is
that over time that fascination has somehow grown into this - into wanting all
of them, all at once, however he chooses. He wants to be able to lick his lips
and order them around, just because he can. He wants one of his hyungs behind
him, biting at the curve of his neck, while another one of them is on their
knees, sucking him off.
Junhong wants everything he can't have, and that includes all the weird shit
he's found on the internet over the years. He wants fingers and hands and
mouths. He wants to fuck someone and know what it feels like to be inside them.
He wants someone to fuck him, to press him down into the mattress and hold him
still. (He also really, really wants to go down on a girl, but that's another
fantasy).
Junhong just wants.
And if he's picked out certain members for each role--if he knows exactly who
he wants on their knees, and who he wants fucking him deep and slow, and whose
face he wants to come on, well--
There are some secrets that should never be told.
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