Chapter Text
Han Yoojin’s thighs trembled as he lifted himself higher onto his knees, the tip of the hard cock pressing up against him and nudging against his rim. Golden eyes watched him from a few feet away, their owner lounging indolently in a throne-like chair, a lazy smile curled across his face like the cat that ate the canary, or rather, watching the canary get slowly eaten right in front of him.
“Go ahead.” Seong Hyeonje said quietly. It echoed in the silent room.
The strong hands wrapped around Han Yoojin’s waist remained steady as they began to move, pulling him down bit by bit. Han Yoojin gasped as the head of Song Taewon’s cock popped inside, each following centimeter gouging him out slowly as he tried and failed to keep from panting. Seong Hyeonje rested his cheek on one hand as he kept watching, his eyes burning a trail into Han Yoojin’s skin as they tracked a bead of sweat from neck to hip.
Song Taewon exhaled sharply as Han Yoojin clenched, the tip of his cock nudging against a particular bundle of nerves inside him. He breathed out once and kept going. Han Yoojin was trembling by the time he felt Song Taewon’s balls nudge against his ass, trying his best to rut back into Song Taewon’s lap while being held still by the iron hard grip around his waist. Somewhere along the way Han Yoojin’s hands had found their way into Song Taewon’s hair, gripping onto the short strands like they were his lifeline as he was impaled. His head had fallen back onto the bodyguard’s shoulder, each of his desperate pants resounding loudly in the still air as his back arched into a perfect half moon, showing off the slowly growing bulge in his stomach from Song Taewon’s cock.
Seong Hyeonje laughed.
“Hold him there, Taewon. Let me look at him properly.”
Han Yoojin felt Song Taewon’s nod as he mindlessly nuzzled into the older man’s neck, savoring the familiar burn and stretch of such a large cock. A gun-calloused hand seized a hold of his face, turning his head away from Song Taewon’s neck as he moaned out a wordless protest.
Seong Hyeonje laughed into the kiss, cradling Han Yoojin’s chin in two fingers as Han Yoojin’s mouth opened easily for his tongue, ripe for the taking. And Seong Hyeonje took. The kiss lasted so long that Han Yoojin was completely limp when Seong Hyeonje drew back, gorgeous black eyes blinking up at him and filmed over with a mix of dazed pleasure and frustration. Song Taewon had seized his wrists when Han Yoojin tried to cling on to Seong Hyeonje during the kiss, holding them now in a gentle grip above his head with his other arm looped around Han Yoojin waist, keeping him pinned down. Seong Hyeonje licked his lips, smirking at the way that it made Han Yoojin shiver.
“Well then,” Seong Hyeonje said, turning and making his way back to the chair. He sat down and waved a hand at the two men on the bed. “Go on, Taewon. Fuck him until he cries.”
The first meeting between the now infamous leader of Seseong group Seong Hyeonje and premier model Han Yoojin took place 7, now almost 8 years ago.
Seong Hyeonje had been an up and coming grunt, the newly instated right hand man to Park Myeonmok, a fool of a man who had only become the leader of his gang because his father was a higher up far away in the Seoul headquarters. On this particular weekday he and the executives of the Myeonmok gang had gone to one of the seedier, more exclusive strip clubs in the city to celebrate their crushing victory over a rival group from the neighboring district.
Seong Hyeonje had been instrumental in their victory, able to get in touch with his contacts and strike some deals to slowly and surely take the organization out by the roots. His ruthlessness and skill in hand to hand combat also earned him the respect of the group at large, smoothing many of the potentially ruffled feathers among the senior members at having been passed over for a relative newcomer. This last group raid—orchestrated and largely directed by Seong Hyeonje—on the Sharp Rock gang’s headquarters to finish off the group had earned him quite a bit of favor with the boss as well as the invitation to this outing, and Seong Hyeonje never turned his nose up at another bit of oil to grease the wheels of his ascension.
In fact, the very instrument of his rise sat a bare few feet away, indulging himself. Park Myeonmok had been all too happy to brag about Seong Hyeonje’s victory like it was his, and was currently relaying an incredibly exaggerated version of the story to one of the club’s employees, who had on a smile so fake she might as well have put on one of those plastic Halloween masks. Lucky that the man was too far gone on overpriced liquor to notice, though. The rest of the executives had either gone upstairs to one of the VIP rooms or stayed in the luxurious booth to drink more, talking and laughing raucously from their scattered positions around the table. More than one had some pretty young thing perched on their laps or hanging off an arm.
In the middle of this atmosphere of excessive indulgence sat Seong Hyeonje, still clad in a dress shirt, slacks, and gloves and mildly regretting his decision to come. The loud thumping bass of the dance music blaring from the club’s surround sound speakers and bright, wildly oscillating neon lights only served to aggravate the migraine building behind his already strained eyes, and he quickly disguised his grimace behind another sip of fine whiskey. The drinks were really the one good thing about this shithole.
Scantily dressed strippers spun and danced on the platforms around the booths, equally exposed waiters slipping from table to table bearing large platters of shots and other drinks on their palms. Seong Hyeonje caught sight of a passing waiter tucking a small wax paper envelope into the pocket of a faceless customer, a bundle of tightly wrapped cash changing hands in the next second. So the drug trade was going as well as ever, then. Good.
Park Myeonmok clapped Seong Hyeonje on the shoulder with a hand so clammy he could practically feel it stain his dress shirt, looking up at him with a dopey grin and eyes bright and glazed over with inebriation, clearly out of it. Seong Hyeonje carefully did not recoil.
“Aisssh, Seong Hyeonje-gun!” The man exclaimed, his other arm looped carelessly around the waist of the club employee he had been talking to. “Lighten up a bit won’t you? We’ve almost enturily-entir-entirelily wiped out the Sharp Rocks gang thanks to me, so why are you sitting here like a sad sack of potatoes huh? Drink! Fuck! Let loose a little!”
“I appreciate the concern, hyungnim, but I am enjoying myself just fine.” Seong Hyeonje said. His head throbbed.
“What nonsense! Look at this youngster so stiff in his corner, don’t be afraid to let loose in front of your boss!” Park Myeonmok chortled, jostling Seong Hyeonje a little as he did. “Here, your hyungnim will even buy you a special something to celebrate. Luna,” and here he looked at the girl on his arm, “who’s a good pick for a lap dance in this club? Give me a name and I’ll buy them for our Seong Hyeonnnnae-gun here.”
Luna hummed, pushing her bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout.
“Well, me obviously!” she said, tilting her head. “But… since I’m with oppa for the night, how about Honey? He’s kind of new but pretty popular. The cute type, just like I taught him.”
“Well then, Honey it is!” Park Myeonmok exclaimed. Luna squealed and nestled in closer to his arm, pushing her chest even further against him as she did so and shooting a wink at Seong Hyeonje when she caught him looking. He tipped his glass towards her obligingly and took another sip.
He could recognize a sharp mind when he saw one, and Seong Hyeonje had to admire her interpersonal skills. It wasn’t easy to promote a colleague while bringing attention back to yourself in a way that would register with a drunken client, even if Luna had made it look easy.
A waiter caught Park Myeonmok’s gesturing hand and came over soon enough, taking the boss’ request with a service smile and slipping away into the crowd. Seong Hyeonje sighed.
What he didn’t have to appreciate, however, was the situation he had been put in. Park Myeonmok would regard Seong Hyeonje unfavorably if he refused the offer, but accepting would mean receiving a lap dance right in front of the other executives and allowing himself to be distracted. Never a good idea, however incapacitated they were right now, and not exactly Seong Hyeonje’s idea of a good time, either.
A lithe figure stopped in front of their booth.
“Heard someone was asking for me?” a voice asked, smooth and light with amusement shallowly hidden between each syllable.
Luna squealed as Seong Hyeonje looked up. An endless pair of onyx eyes stared down at him, slightly crinkled at the edges from the man’s smile. Their gazes met for just a second before it broke and the owner of that voice and figure looked away, fluttering his fingers back towards Luna’s enthusiastic greeting.
The man who must be Honey was wearing a skin tight, all black outfit. Seong Hyeonje noted the plain black choker around his neck, trailing his gaze over the lacy corset and down to his tight leather short-shorts, a thin sliver of pale skin bridging the gap between the hem of his shorts and a pair of thigh high leather boots laced up the front. Honey stood in his pair of eight inch black platform stilettos as easily as if he had been walking barefoot, lithe calf and thigh muscles shifting visibly as he turned to survey the other members of the booth. His lips shimmered as he pursued them playfully, the thin sheen of tinted lip gloss reflecting the neon lights of the club and drawing Seong Hyeonje’s eye as he spoke.
“Am I joining you for today then, Luna?” Honey said, batting thick lashes at Park Myeonmok. “Want me to take you for a ride, big boy? Luna and I make a pretty good team, you know.”
Park Myeonmok laughed raucously. “Maybe next time! I got you for theh-this one right over here, see.”
Seong Hyeonje’s smile tightened ever so slightly as Park Myeonmok clapped him on the shoulder again, the heavy scent of booze and sweat wafting over his nose. The shirt would be a loss, then. Shame.
“Looshhhen him up, won’t you? Hyanjeh-gun’s only been drinking all night, and that’s no way to party!”
Honey tilted his head as he looked back at Seong Hyeonje, flicking his eyes down and back up in a quick scan.
“Hm…” he tapped a manicured finger against those glossy lips. “Well, I can certainly think of some ways for us to let off steam.”
One eye slid down in a slow wink.
Park Myeonmok laughed again. “What are you waiting for, kid? Go and get laid! I’ll foot the bill afterwards, so don’t worry about that!”
“Ah-what?” Seong Hyeonje blinked.
“The VIP room of course! Go craaaaaazy. youngsters nowadays really need to learn how to celebrate, Jeeezus.”
Luna giggled as Park Myeonmok let out a huff, stroking a hand down his bicep in faux sympathy and batting her eyes as he looked her way.
“What about me?” She asked. “Do I know how to have a good time?”
“I’ll show you a good time later, believe me.” Park Myeonmok responded with a lecherous grin.
It was clear that the momentum had shifted beyond Seong Hyeonje’s control.
Well then.
He got up before his boss cared to notice his presence again and he was given another push, cradling his drink in one hand and scooping up his suit jacket with the other.
“Ready to go, handsome?” Honey asked, taking a few steps closer.
“Sure, Honey.” Seong Hyeonje said, smiling at him. Taking his cue, his jacket was transferred to the hand holding his drink as they left, leaving Seong Hyeonje’s other arm free to slip around Honey’s shoulder and tug the man closer, so as not to be separated by the crowd. He silently marveled at how smooth Honey’s skin was even through his leather gloves, pale and perfectly unblemished. Seong Hyeonje slipped his hand down to grip loosely at the corseted curve of Honey’s waist as they went up the stairs, unable to resist running his fingers along the ribs and feeling how that slender torso pinched in at the waist.
Honey was looking at him when Seong Hyeonje glanced back up, one delicately plucked eyebrow raised.
“Like what you see?” he asked, smiling.
“Surprisingly, yes.” Seong Hyeonje said.
Honey pouted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I had low expectations for the night, that’s all.” Seong Hyeonje said. Honey slipped from his grasp as they reached the door to one of the VIP suites, trailing his fingers down Seong Hyeonje’s chest as he went and pulling out his tie.
“Uh-huh. And what about now?” Honey asked, pressing himself against the door. Seong Hyeonje followed the insistent tugging to plaster himself against the smaller man’s front, slipping the tips of his fingers just under the lacey waistband of Honey’s corset.
“Well,” Seong Hyeonje said, nosing along the soft spot between his jaw and ear and breathing deep, “they’ve certainly been raised.”
Honey snickered. “ Something’s gonna be raised in a bit, alright. Come on.”
A click, and then the man had slipped away again, backing through the doorway to slink further into the VIP room. Seong Hyeonje followed.
He was greeted by a small, dimly lit room, glowing purple LED strips lining the ceiling with speakers in the four corners and a small table off in the corner with a remote lying on top, a plastic, sturdy-looking chair pushed up against it. But the pièce de résistance was the pole in the center of the room, polished and gleaming a silvery-purple from the LEDs. Honey had strode further in while Seong Hyeonje scanned his surroundings, those black stilettos clicking audibly against the hardwood floor.
“Gonna give me a show?” Seong Hyeonje asked, leaning against the wall and tucking his hands in his pants pockets. Honey turned back to look at him, one hand fiddling with a black remote.
“That’s what your boss is paying me for.” He said, raising one eyebrow. The stripper pressed a button on the remote and set it back onto the table, taking hold of the back of the plastic chair and dragging it over to the center of the room to place its back against the pole and look at Seong Hyeonje.
“Come over here and take a seat.” He said, patting the seat.
“Yes, sir.”
The top of Honey’s head barely came up to Seong Hyeonje’s nose as he walked over, and the stripper was wearing eight inch platform stilettos. How cute. Seong Hyeonje undid the button of his jacket as he sat down, placing his hands in his lap. Honey saw this, clicked his tongue and leaned down, taking his hands and moving them back so they were braced against the back bars of the plastic chair.
“Hold on to these for me, ok? Let me give you a ride.” He said. Honey was so close that his warm breath washed across Seong Hyeonje’s neck, sending goosebumps along his skin where it touched. Seong Hyeonje let out a quiet chuckle, hands tightening a little too fast around the bars.
“Whatever you say, Honey.” He replied. The stripper smiled as the opening notes began to play, heavy bass thumping through the room as he straightened up. His left hand moved from Seong Hyeonje’s wrist and up across his side until it trailed heat along the width of Seong Hyeonje’s shoulders as Honey made a slow circuit around him. A row of straight, pearly white teeth flashed in the dim lighting just inside Seong Hyeonje’s peripheral vision as Honey circled back from his other side, running a hand up his own chest then through his hair so it fell back into his eyes just so. The light mood from just seconds before had completely vanished, and Seong Hyeonje found himself fixated on the dark, smoldering look in Honey’s eyes.
The faint words of the song began filtering in as Honey finished the circle, stopping with his back right in front of Seong Hyeonje and looking over his shoulder teasingly. The hand not in his hair reached back and undid the zipper of his corset in one elegant twist and pull, accompanying the motion with a purposeful flex and roll of narrow hips as the stripper tossed it to a corner of the room.
Seong Hyeonje kept his hands on the back of the chair and stared.
A golden dragon with an underbelly as black as night wove in and out of the petals of an enormous royal purple chrysanthemum emblazoned across the entirety of Honey’s back, clutching a white pearl half the size of his head centered an inch below the nape of his neck, marked out in bold black and cream lines. Small red peonies were sprinkled under its claws as well, a broken horizontal line across the middle of his back and blanketing the top of his left shoulder.
Honey’s hips rolled again, making the dragon ripple and curl across his back with the movement. There was a dull thud as the corset landed somewhere in a corner of the room, but Seong Hyeonje was too busy watching those narrow hips start up a hypnotic rhythm like swelling tides as the heavy bass of the song filled the room.
Seong Hyeonje recognized this song. One of the lower level grunts had been playing it in the break room when he had passed by just yesterday, but the tinny sound it had had then was completely gone in the confined quarters of this room. It thrummed through his blood now, as Honey slowly leaned forward to put his hands on his knees, moving to the beat.
The stripper dipped down to trail his hands down to grab the heel of his stilettos then rose back up, the dimples on his lower back making it seem like the peonies bloomed as he straightened. Seong Hyeonje almost missed the sight when Honey turned to face him, wanting another glimpse of that tattoo.
The sentiment did not last long.
Seong Hyeonje swallowed the sudden influx of drool as Honey revealed the black heart shaped pasties he had stuck onto his nipples, leaning forward with an enticing smile that made his lip gloss shimmer. Strong, slender hands reached forward and brushed past Seong Hyeonje’s head to wrap around the metal pole, sending shivers down his spine from where they touched. Seong Hyeonje’s hands tightened around the back of the chair until the metal creaked.
Honey looked at him from above, dark eyes flickering to where he held the chair with white knuckles and laughed, barely audible beneath the music. Seong Hyeonje gave him a slightly rueful smile back and loosened his grip, though it was a struggle not to tighten it again when the stripper did a fluid body roll that made the muscles in his abdomen ripple hypnotically. Honey bent further with a small gasp as his hips rolled again in tight circles, chest close enough that Seong Hyeonje could see the floral pattern embroidered into his pasties, black on black on pale, smooth skin.
Seong Hyeonje was startled out of his stupor when Honey braced himself against the pole, stepping onto the chair seat right in between his legs and pulling himself upright in an elegant motion. His mouth went dry as Seong Hyeonje found himself face to face with the crotch of Honey’s leather shorts, bare inches away as Honey moved his hips to the rhythm. His teeth ached, all of a sudden.
The beat kicked up at the same time that Seong Hyeonje saw the lean muscles in Honey’s thighs tense, and there was a bare second where he felt the stripper’s left thigh brush lightly against his cheek before Honey spread his grip on the pole wide and launched himself into the air in a sideways split, feet braced tight against the pole as he did a single circuit. In the next spin Honey had dropped his legs, holding himself up until he was behind Seong Hyeonje before placing his right heel onto the seat with a sharp clack.
Honey smacked his thigh as the beat dropped, trailing it up his leg and chest and almost brushing one of his pasties—Seong Hyeonje’s breath hitched—before reaching his neck, where he teasingly hooked his pointer finger under the wide leather band of his choker and pulled, tossing his head and pulling himself free in a single motion. A full body shudder worked its way down his spine as Honey rolled his hips into the air, leaning back as he held onto the pole and moving to the beat. His free hand moved with his torso, down his chest then around his hip, pushing against the small of his own back as he flaunted his curves.
Seong Hyeonje couldn’t breathe. Honey had completely bound him in his rhythm, each beat thundering through his body and shaking his bones. Each lean line of muscle was accentuated as Honey turned his back to him, running his hands through his hair and shaking his hips. It was just the two of them here in this dim room, the clack of stilettos as the stripper moved as clear as undisturbed water.
Honey leaned back in the next second and grabbed the pole with his nearest hand, and Seong Hyeonje had half a second to process before Honey had bent into a bridge over his lap, arching his right leg into the air as he did so.
“Ahah,” Seong Hyeonje couldn’t help but laugh, cheeks flushed. Honey winked and brushed his cheek with the side of his stiletto, then lowered his leg and completely relaxed onto his thighs with a flirty smile, mouthing along to the lyrics.
Something in Seong Hyeonje trembled at the warm weight on his legs, the heat and pressure of Honey’s back burning him even through his suit pants. He could feel Honey’s back muscles flex, the stripper slowly cycling his legs in the air as he kept direct eye contact.
Honey maintained that eye contact as the verse ended, his core tensing, and at the last word he kicked his left leg all the way over his head.
Ah, Seong Hyeonje thought to himself, in the moment before Honey bicycle kicked off of his lap, I’m in trouble.
Honey rolled out of the flip and then slid into a seamless side slip, tossing his bangs from his eyes with a quiet huff. The only visible sign of effort that Seong Hyeonje could see was the almost imperceptible rise and fall of Honey’s chest, quickened with exertion.
No wonder there were so many stories about patrons falling in lust with sex workers.
Seong Hyeonje distantly registered Honey moving out of the split and onto all fours, crawling to the front as his brain fuzzed out from the sheer strip of lean back muscles, arched to perfection and flexing with each sinuous movement.
With this absolute vision in front of him, how could Seong Hyeonje not succumb?
Seong Hyeonje very much tuned back in as Honey sat up and put his hands on Seong Hyeonje’s knees. He swallowed as Honey leaned in, crawling between his legs in a predatory motion that made him shiver just the slightest bit, hands tightening and then going limp on the flimsy back of the plastic chair. Seong Hyeonje reached out just as Honey’s side brushed the inside of his thigh, aching, aching, aching with the need to feel that burning heat again, feel it properly, but Honey caught him easily.
Honey clicked his tongue as he examined the hand in his grip, bringing one of Seong Hyeonje’s hands to his mouth. Song Hyeonje could not look away. There was a steel in Honey’s gaze that froze him, kept him compliant as his hands were grabbed and pulled. All the breath wheezed from Seong Hyeonje’s chest as Honey opened his mouth and gently closed his teeth around the middle fingertip of his leather glove, dragging it off slowly with his mouth and spitting it off to the side while maintaining eye contact. The move was repeated for Seong Hyeonje’s other hand, Honey’s teeth pinching ever so slightly around his finger as he pulled. Cold air pricked at newly exposed skin, and made him tense, but then Honey shifted his grip from Seong Hyeonje’s wrists to his palms, the first press of skin against skin burning him like fire. Seong Hyeonje could do nothing before this gentle, inexorable heat, melting under each point of contact like wax before a burning wick.
If it had been anyone other than the young man on his knees in front of him, Seong Hyeonje would be using his corpse to wipe the blood off his pocket knife by now. Touch was not a thing he did often, and certainly not something he enjoyed. But this.
Honey briefly nuzzled his cheek into one of Seong Hyeonje’s palms, stroking a finger down the pointer finger of his other hand and hooking their pinkies together.
This.
Warm breath brushed the sensitive inside of his wrist as Honey drew back. Seong Hyeonje looked for the usual instinctive disgust.
That something inside of him that had reacted earlier stirred again, along with the strange impulse to touch more, touch harder. How odd.
Honey raised himself onto his knees and shifted his grip back to Seong Hyeonje’s wrists, pushing them over the mobster’s head to brush against the pole.
“Hold on to this for me, yea?” He said. “You’re gonna need it.”
Seong Hyeonje wondered dimly at his lack of resistance, nodding.
“Good boy.”
The heat in his hands spread down to the rest of his body as he wrapped his hands around the pole, cold metal rapidly warming under skin that seemed to burn with the transferred heat of a million galaxies.
Honey let go of his wrists just to trail his fingers down Seong Hyeonje’s chest as he sank back down onto his knees and moved back. Then he leaned down. And down. And down.
Seong Hyeonje breathed out harshly as Honey moved past crotch level, and his thoughts scattered like the million fragments of a shattered vase as Honey braced himself on his forearms and lifted his entire body over his head in another effortless backbend to wrap his legs tight around Seong Hyeonje’s waist. Those lean muscles shifted and clenched as this remarkable man braced himself and then pulled his torso upright in one move.
Seong Hyeonje could not help his laugh. What else was he supposed to do? The fae creature in his lap set his hands onto Seong Hyeonje’s knees and looked at him with half lidded eyes and a smile like knives, those incredible legs unwrapping themselves from around his waist to land on the floor with twin sharp clicks. Seong Hyeonje never thought he could be jealous of a floor before, but he kept discovering new things about himself today.
“Something wrong?” Honey asked, hands tightening around Seong Hyeonje’s knees. “You laughed. Doesn’t usually happen when I’m dancing.”
Seong Hyeonje kept still as Honey leaned forward again and took his hands off the pole, but his mouth moved on its own.
“Nothing wrong. Quite the opposite, really.” He said, lips twitching upwards despite himself as Honey moved his hands, bringing them—
Bringing them down to his ass. Seong Hyeonje audibly groaned as Honey pressed back against his palms, unable to stop himself from sinking his fingers deep into the meat of his ass.
“Please take it easy on me, Honey-ssi,” he said into the stripper’s ear, a little helplessly. “I’m rather new at this.”
Honey just laughed. “I knew from the beginning. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”
“Ahaha! At this rate—“ Seong Hyeonje stifled a gasp when Honey stood up, hands clenched around the pole as he rolled his hips in a smooth figure eight, “—you’ll undo me.”
The second part came out in a breathless murmur.
Honey’s chest was right in front of his face, glittering details drawing his eyes to his heart shaped pasties like the world’s strongest magnet. Seong Hyeonje would not be able to tear his eyes away if an actual apocalypse began on the other side of these walls.
“Mm.” Honey said, hips twisting. “Be a shame. Waste of a pretty face.”
Seong Hyeonje flushed. “Oh. Thank you.”
Honey blinked, stilling for a second as he caught side of the flustered expression on Seong Hyeonje’s face. A genuine smile burst onto his face after half a second and he laughed, releasing one hand from the pole to brush a stray piece of hair from Seong Hyeonje’s face.
“You’re pretty cute.” He said, still smiling.
Seong Hyeonje couldn’t breathe. Honey’s hand lingered on his face for another second before he set it back onto the pole, rolling his hips in an exaggeratedly slow motion.
“Ah,” Seong Hyeonje gasped reflexively as his fingertips accidentally slipped past the hem of Honey’s shorts on a particularly harsh roll. His fingertips tingled, every inch of smooth skin that pressed back into his exposed hands sending heat straight down to his stomach.
“I like that in a man. Will you take care of me too?” Honey asked. He had his head tilted back when Seong Hyeonje looked up, the sharp cut of his jaw and collarbone sharply visible from this angle. Dim purple light outlined his head in a vague halo.
Seong Hyeonje had never been a religious man, but right now he had the strangest urge to get on his knees.
“…anything,” he said, meaning it.
“Good.” Honey said. He did not look back down.
Seong Hyeonje shivered in delight.
Honey swung off of him a few seconds later, turning around to shake his ass next to Seong Hyeonje’s face, then strutted back around to face him.
“Hold my waist for me, yeah?” He asked, putting his hands on Seong Hyeonje’s knees. “If you let me fall I’ll be really mad.”
Seong Hyeonje had no time to answer as Honey bent in half, reflexively grabbing onto his waist as the stripper bent his knees and launched up into an upside down split.
Seong Hyeonje’s bare fingers pressed up against Honey’s sides, helping him keep his balance as he held himself straight with arms and core alone.
He did not know where to look. A slice of skin beginning where Honey’s boot ended and ending where his shorts began at this angle revealed the junction of his ass and thigh, soft where he had gripped only moments ago. Strong muscles flexed beneath his hands, minute adjustments electrifying him, filling his mind. Honey’s crotch was right in front of his face.
Seong Hyeonje swallowed. Black leather glittered under the light. A vaguely delirious metaphor about a pale moon amidst an endless night sky floated into and then out of his head as he stared at how Honey’s shorts bunched ever so slightly around the curve of his ass, leaving light crease marks that trailed to, to—
Honey’s thighs flexed as he began cycling them in a smooth wave.
“Like what you see, huh,” he said.
Seong Hyeonje came to the sudden realization that in his current position, Honey was positioned right over his lap. That realization was triggered along with a sudden twitch as soft hair brushed against his crotch.
“…” Seong Hyeonje did not know how to respond in this situation.
Honey snickered but gave him a break, letting the music control his pace and keeping his torso still while his legs moved.
Seong Hyeonje held back a sigh when Honey lowered his legs to the floor with a clack , then choked as the stripper slid right from that position into a side split.
Slick as melted butter and just as hot, Honey swung his back leg over, leaned back and slid into his front in one move, one arm stretched out in front and the other propped underneath his chest. Seong Hyeonje watched as Honey arched back into the air, drawing circles with his ass before bouncing it while leaning against his forearms like a cat. Honey slid back onto his knees again right as Seong Hyeonje had thought his torment had ended and pushed back down with his arms outstretched, rolling onto his front and looking directly at him.
Seong Hyeonje looked as the lyrics of the song faded, Honey’s back arched clean off the floor as he traced a hand down his chest and slowly drawing himself upright while the last notes played.
They kept eye contact the entire time, as the room was cast into silence.
“…well?” Honey said, drawing himself up onto his knees. His stilettos clicked against the hardwood floor as he stood up and deposited himself in Seong Hyeonje’s lap.
“What did you think, Seong Hyeonje-nim?” He asked, winding his arms loosely around Seong Hyeonje’s neck.
“…It was quite a performance, Honey-ssi.” Seong Hyeonje said after he found his tongue.
Another song began to play in the background, but it was muted and wordless, slow.
“I’m glad to hear it.” Honey said, leaning in. “You can touch me, you know. Your Boss-nim paid for the VIP treatment.”
“Can I?” Seong Hyeonje’s heart rabbited in his chest as he brought his hands up from their white-knuckled grip on the back of the chair, wrapping them gently around Honey’s waist. Were his hands sweaty? Perhaps he should have wiped them on his pants before touching Honey’s bare skin.
“Is this okay?” He asked.
Honey purred.
“I like you a lot, you ask when touching.”
When had he gotten so close? Warm breath brushed Seong Hyeonje’s face, smelling vaguely of orange and lemon, light citrus. Tinted lipgloss shimmered as Honey smiled, sweet as his name.
“Can I kiss you?” Seong Hyeonje blurted out. Honey blinked as Seong Hyeonje flushed, drawing back.
“I understand if it’s outside your limits, that’s fine—“ Seong Hyeonje was cut off as Honey placed a finger against his lips. The stripper cupped him by the chin and leaned in, hovering over his mouth for a second before drawing back.
“Your breath smells like soju,” He said, wrinkling his nose. “Give me a second.”
Honey got off Seong Hyeonje’s lap and strode over to the small table, opening the drawer and fishing something out with a crinkle of plastic. It was hidden behind his back as he turned and walked back over, sitting back down on Seong Hyeonje’s lap
“Open your mouth, Seong Hyeonje-nim,” Honey said, tapping a finger against his lower lip.
Long ingrained reflexes kicked in as Seong Hyeonje caught him by the wrist, wariness surging back in full force.
“Offering unknown substances to a mobster?” his voice came out soft and dangerous, the first glint of a sharp blade slid from a velvet sheath. “How risky of you, Honey-ssi. One might take offense to such a thing.”
Honey flexed his hand but Seong Hyeonje only tightened his grip and pulled him closer, lips drawing back to reveal the slightest hint of teeth. Seong Hyeonje’s other hand looped around Honey’s waist to fish out the item in his grasp.
“It’s just candy,” Honey huffed as Seong Hyeonje held up the clear package, lips pursed in annoyance. Seong Hyeonje raised an eyebrow.
“Care to confirm that?”
He brought the package up to his mouth and tore it open with his teeth, careful not to touch the interior, and brought it up so that the candy inside touched Honey’s lower lip.
“Open up, Honey-ssi.” Seong Hyeonje said.
Honey rolled his eyes and fastened his teeth over the edge, a bright pink tongue sweeping out a second later to bring the entire thing into his mouth. Seong Hyeonje watched as Honey licked the sugar stain from his lower lip.
“Just candy, like I said,” Honey was saying, rolling the candy around his mouth. “You didn’t have to mess up my lip gloss for it.”
“Mn.”
Seong Hyeonje silently counted to fifteen just to be sure, then let go of Honey’s wrist.
“…my apologies,” he said, smiling faintly. “Please forgive my precautions. Better wary than dead, you know.”
Honey huffed again, grabbing Seong Hyeonje’s hands and bringing them to rest at his hips.
“Yes, yes, Seong Hyeonje-nim. Are we good to go now?”
“If I haven’t ruined the mood.” Seong Hyeonje was suddenly very aware of his own inexperience, now that the reflexive wariness from the candy had subsided. He swallowed quietly as Honey leaned in.
“You have, but you also paid.” Honey said, shrugging.
Seong Hyeonje couldn’t suppress his low chuckle. “Are all strippers this callous? I’m a valued customer, you know.”
“This is my special treatment, oh valued customer. Please appreciate it.” Honey said, and leaned forward.
Their first touch of lips was like the meeting of a lit match with a bundle of dry firewood. Seong Hyeonje felt his entire body go up in flames as Honey kissed him, and his following gasp felt like the sharp crack of a log as it broke from the searing heat, baring its untouched center.
Citrus burst against his tastebuds as Honey cupped the nape of Seong Hyeonje’s neck, soft fingers smoothing against his jaw and tilting to angle his head just so, rolling the candy off his tongue and onto Seong Hyeonje’s.
Honey kissed like a forest fire, taking and burning everything in his path. And Seong Hyeonje crumbled under his lips.
He is dizzy with it, the taste and feel and smell of this man surrounding and utterly overwhelming all of Seong Hyeonje’s senses. Honey’s skin was smooth and soft beneath his fingers and he gave in with a moan, the tips of his fingers almost touching as he braced his palms against Honey’s sides and squeezed. Honey just sighed into his mouth, sucking on Seong Hyeonje’s tongue.
Those dazzling black eyes blinked up at him as they pulled apart, just the slightest bit dazed. Seong Hyeonje panted around the candy dissolving beneath his tongue and tried to pull together the scattered pieces of his brain. Honey leaned forward and nosed up his neck and along his jaw, and those pieces dissolved into a million particles of dust. Seong Hyeonje jolted so hard the chair rattled; it is as if every damned centimeter of skin has become hypersensitive, every brush of smooth fingers along his cheek and neck sending shocks of pleasure through his entire body.
Leanly muscled thighs pressed up against his hips as Honey bit a mark into the patch of skin where his shoulder and neck met, and Seong Hyeonje threw his head back and moaned aloud, long and low and utterly filthy. Honey pressed upwards when he was satisfied, bumping his nose against Seong Hyeonje’s cheek to bring their lips together again in a red hot kiss that melted sticky and sweet between them like caramel.
Somewhere on the outskirts of his consciousness Seong Hyeonje registered the sound of gunfire, but then Honey pressed his tongue against Seong Hyeonje’s palette and flicked and, well, it can’t be that big of a deal, right? And anyways, the slick sound their lips made when Honey angled his head just so has Seong Hyeonje’s brain fuzzing out and now his fingers are digging into Seong Hyeonje’s scalp and pressing and oh, god what was that thing he just did with his tongue and—
Someone hammered on the door.
“Seong Hyeonje-hyung nim!” Someone yelled.
Your Seong Hyeonje-hyung nim is busy getting devoured, maknae. Please come back later.
“Seong Hyeonje-hyung nim!!! It’s the Sharp Rock gang, please!”
Seong Hyeonje’s brain unfuzzed in an instant and he bristled, focusing in on the dim sounds of violence on the other side of the walls.
“Something important?” Honey asked. His voice had been roughened out into a rasping purr, plush mouth cherry red and well kissed, glistening now with spit and the last traces of his tinted lip gloss smudged across his pouting lower lip. Seong Hyeonje resisted the urge to whine.
He sighed instead, carefully draining the stiffness from his body.
“Business calls, I’m afraid.”
Honey raised an eyebrow, shifting to sit further back on his lap.
“What? Is it gonna affect the club?”
Out of some fleeting impulse and his newly risen regret, Seong Hyeonje leaned forward and bit Honey’s bottom lip, tugging the slightest bit before letting go with a rueful smile.
“I’ll see what I can do about that. I—“ Seong Hyeonje can’t afford the hesitation or the blush, “—I’ll come back another time, yes? I need to go.”
Honey slid easily off his lap when Seong Hyeonje made to stand up, though it took him two tries to get his legs working properly and another to remember how to walk. Seong Hyeonje fished out his wallet as he neared the door, pulling out a thick wad of bills.
“For the tip,” he said, looking towards the door. Just the idea of seeing that face again, those dazzling eyes, makes him forget how to breathe.
Seong Hyeonje choked as he was yanked down by the neck, the hand Honey fisted into his tie pulling him down into a searing kiss while he plucked the money out of Seong Hyeonje’s grip with his other hand.
“Mm,” He said when they drew apart, licking those kiss swollen lips. Eyes like the endless night sky stared up at him once again. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
Seong Hyeonje managed a single, stiff nod before he was out the door, blinking through the bright hallway lights.
His subordinate fell in half a step behind as Seong Hyeonje turned to stride down the carpeted hall, clutching the handle of his machete in shaking hands.
“Th-the remnants of the Sharp Rock gang are here, hyungnim. They’re trying to take out our execs while our guards are down.” He said.
Seong Hyeonje allowed himself a single grimace before his face smoothed out into an expressionless mask. The memory of those gleaming obsidian eyes, shining like polished volcanic glass, is neatly packed away and stored into a tidy corner of his mind as he fully fell into his battle calm.
“Call for backup and give me your weapon. Our priority is getting the boss out alive.”
“Yes, hyungnim!”
Good.
Seong Hyeonje brushed his bangs back with one hand as the leather handle of the machete met his palm, the sound of metal clashing and screams drawing ever closer.
The first thing he saw when he stepped out into the crowded room was the snarling face of a meaningless grunt. Seong Hyeonje bared his teeth and greeted his opponent with a blade to the throat. Blood sprayed through the air in a vivid arc and another spurt joined in before the first droplets even touched the ground, Seong Hyeonje scything through both the first grunt and the man behind him, leaving their bodies to crumple ungracefully at the bottom of the stairs. The pit of Seong Hyeonje’s stomach burned with that unnameable fire as he dodged a clumsy swing to slice clean through the stomach of his third assailant.
They wanted blood?
Soft hands whispered heat over bare skin before disappearing as some faceless figure attempted to grapple him. Instinctive revulsion welled up in the back of Seong Hyeonje's throat. Seong Hyeonje stabbed the fucker in the gut and reveled in his shriek of pain and fear.
They’ll fucking get it.