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chineseinkUgh, this turned out so motherfucking long, because SuJu has so many freaking members. Seriously, I wasn't even halfway through before I started complaining that, omfg, why so many, Kibum has to sleep with so many more people and I have to write it all. ;_; So I totally disclaim on the quality of this. I know it's crap, but Kibum is sleeping with 12 other guys (and a girl or two), so there. Shut up. Kibum, you're lucky I love you and your arms of sex.
So, picture this set sometime in 2006, I guess, because I couldn't make myself make this even longer and write Henry and Zhou Mi into this. Plus, Kibum was freaking hot back in the U/Dancing Out days.
Er, also, there is lots of blasphemous religious talk, which I will meta on someday, but yeah. Be aware. Then again, this is an NC-17 slash fic. You know what you're going into, right?
Happy freaking birthday, Kim Kibum. For your birthday, I think you should come find me and do unspeakable things to me. God, why are you so hot?
Playing the Field
Super Junior, Kibum/everyone (some Kibum/Heechul), NC-17, 5585 words
When good little Christian boys are also sex gods.
Playing the Field
by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
meitachi
Kibum’s first kiss was with a girl in ninth grade when he was in L.A. He was only in eighth grade himself, but it was then he’d started liking older girls, a trend he hadn’t quite grown out of. There was just something about their being unattainable that made Kibum want them even more.
After Kibum had returned to Korea, he’d continued dating older girls – Park Soomin was the first girl he’d noticed in his church youth group because she’d been pretty, confident, and two years older than him. She had been his real first love and probably the reason why he hadn’t been as close to the other SM trainees as he could’ve been: he was always in a hurry to leave the company to go see her instead, turning down opportunities to hang out and bond when he could be on a date instead.
Kibum didn’t regret it, because the first time he had sex was with Soomin. It was mind-blowing and as close to perfect as sex could get. Forget the disclaimers by people who claimed that losing one’s virginity was always awkward and messy and full of mistakes; Kibum’s first time had shudderingly hot and fucking awesome, and not just because it was his first time and anything to do with someone else making him come was amazing, but because Soomin knew what she was doing. There were definite perks to dating older women.
What Kibum, or anyone, really, hadn’t known then was that how that mind-blowing introduction to sex changed the shape of Kibum’s future.
Kibum had lost his virginity to very good sex. All his experiences after that also entailed very good sex. So Kibum liked sex a lot, and when he and Soomin broke up, it was the sex he missed the most.
But there were definite perks to being single too.
--
“You know,” Heechul drawled at him, “we all call Siwonnie our good little Christian boy, but you go to church every Sunday too. Hell, you’ve believed even longer than he has.” The challenge in his voice was unmistakable.
Kibum risked looking up from his computer game to smile at the older man, leaning against the doorframe to Kibum’s room. “Your point, hyung?”
“I’m questioning the indiscriminate sex you have pretty much every night,” Heechul elaborated with a roll of his eyes.
“I discriminate.” Kibum returned to his game. He didn’t have to look at Heechul to hear the scoff or picture the smirk on his face.
“Please, Kibum. Your only standards are that it has to be female, human, and breathing.”
“A nice pair of legs helps.” Kibum shot down two enemies with clinical efficiency, and added without looking up from the game as his character rounded a corner and sighted five more enemies: “And I’ve never restricted myself to only females.”
For a minute, the only sound in the room was the explosions from the computer speakers as Kibum wiped the field, covering the screen with digital blood.
Then Heechul said, sounding positively delighted, “That is one fucking special way of coming out.”
--
Kibum’s first conquest in Super Junior was, understandably, Heechul. He’d been the first Kibum had let know that Kibum swung both ways, after all, so he deserved the honor. It was also a little ironic, Kibum thought as watched Heechul eye him predatorily, smirk curling his lips. It was ironic since Heechul had hated him so fiercely just a few years ago, before Kibum had gone to the U.S. and come back.
Then again, Kibum was a completely different person from before. He peeled off his t-shirt and smiled to himself when Heechul’s eyes dropped to his bare torso.
“I approve,” he purred. “All your working out actually goes towards something.”
“Thank you for your approval,” Kibum replied, deadpan. He laughed when Heechul scowled at him.
“Yah. I don’t know if I like you talking back like this. In fact…” Kibum felt his interest stir when Heechul’s eyes darkened and his voice dropped an octave. The older man stepped closer, until he could reach out and place his hand on Kibum’s chest, feather light and barely there. “In fact,” he whispered, “let’s play a game.”
Kibum cocked his head and met Heechul’s eyes.
“Let’s pretend you’re fourteen again,” Heechul said and let his hand drift lower across Kibum’s stomach. “Let’s pretend I still hate you.” His hand paused at the waistband of Kibum’s track pants. “Let’s pretend you really, really, really want me to like you.” His voice, soft, danced like electricity over Kibum’s skin, as he punctuated each really with a trailing finger over Kibum’s crotch.
“H-hyung,” Kibum stammered.
Heechul’s smirk grew into a smug grin. “Shut up, Kibum, and put your mouth to better use.”
Kibum could play this game. He could play it well, with shy, embarrassed strokes of his tongue and tentative fingers. He could play it until Heechul muttered, “Jesus motherfucking Christ,” under his breath and dug his fingers into Kibum’s shoulders, nails leaving imprints, and coming all over Kibum’s face.
Kibum wiped himself off with a tissue after and said mildly, “Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, hyung.”
--
Yesung being second was a bit of a miscalculation. Kibum wouldn’t call it a mistake, because he still got sex out of it, and anything that involved sex tended to not be so bad – but, truthfully speaking, he had been setting his sights on Hankyung. It was a matter of bad timing, a misplaced wallet, and what Kibum suspected was Heechul’s interference, but the Monday night that Kibum had planned to corner Hankyung in their dorm when he knew both Heechul and Jay were out, Hankyung was nowhere to be found. Instead, Yesung showed up, bitching about the other dorm and how he was sick to death of Donghae and Eunhyuk’s antics.
“Sometimes it’s like it’s not just two years that separate us,” he groused, “it’s more like twelve years. What are they, six?” He flounced to the couch in the living room and threw himself over it, sprawling across the length in a sullen manner.
Kibum regarded him momentarily, hands on his hips. “Your math is wrong,” he said at last. “Twenty minus twelve is eight, not six.”
Yesung moved the arm he’d thrown over his face to expose one glaring eye.
With a small grin to himself – he did so love provoking his hyungs – Kibum walked over to the couch and calmly slid a leg onto the couch so he was straddling Yesung. He had been planning to get his hands on Hankyung tonight and run his hands down that dancer’s body, long and lithe, but he could work with this too. Yesung smelled like smoke – he did tend to pull out the cigarettes when he was stressed. Kibum found it hot, and inhaled it deep into his lungs, feeling a tingle of arousal.
Yesung gave him a questioning look when Kibum leaned forward until he was propped up on the couch over Yesung. He grinned as his bangs fell into his eyes and Yesung expression melted into one of wariness.
“What the hell,” he started, because Kibum wasn’t one for skinship.
“You know what’s a good way to release your anger and frustration?” Kibum licked his lips. Yesung’s eyes followed the path of his tongue, and swallowed hard. He didn’t respond so Kibum leaned a little further down, scooting down Yesung’s hips until his stirring arousal was pressed right up against Kibum’s ass.
“Sex,” Kibum said, trailing his fingers over Yesung’s mouth. Then he chuckled, Yesung’s hips twitched, and Kibum’s fingers slid past parted lips into slick heat.
--
Kibum did manage to get Hankyung next, though, and it was even easier than he’d expected. All it’d taken was a quiet request that they stay after everyone left for a private dance instruction, really. Kibum had faked a stumble a few minutes in, and he’d taken a break to lean against the mirror, looking upset as Hankyung approached him to comfort him.
“It’s okay,” Hankyung said, bringing a hand up to pat Kibum’s shoulder.
Kibum breathed out long between lips he knew were red from his teeth. “Yeah, thanks, just…” He sighed and slumped even further against the mirror, knowing he was sweaty and his hair was messy and there was a sliver of skin showing between his low-slung track pants and his black wifebeater. “I wish I didn’t suck so much,” he said wryly, glancing over at Hankyung.
Hankyung’s eyes jerked away from his collarbone and he looked faintly embarrassed. “No, Kibum, you’re not…that bad.” His words were uncertain. Kibum didn’t mind. He knew his dancing prowess was nothing to brag about. He had other skills to get him through life.
“Thanks for staying with me anyway.” With a little self-deprecating half-smile, Kibum wrapped his arms around Hankyung in a hug, hiding his smirk in Hankyung’s hair when the older man froze in his embrace. He was half-hard against Kibum’s hip, the rest of him tense with shock and frozen in shame.
“Ki-Kibum,” he managed, “sorry, I don’t mean— I didn’t—”
“Only half hard, hyung?” Kibum asked against his ear.
Hankyung froze again, and then Kibum’s hand had snaked between their bodies, loosely gripping Hankyung’s erection through his sweatpants.
“I think we can do better than that, right?” Kibum pulled back far enough to smile brightly at Hankyung, who flushed bright red.
“Kibum!”
“Mmm,” Kibum returned, and moved his hand under Hankyung’s waistband. “Consider this thanks for helping me with the dance.” He curled his fingers and Hankyung gasped, twisting his hands in the fabric of Kibum’s tank top.
“Fuck,” he choked, eyes closing.
Kibum proceeded to tease out, with every flick of his wrist and scrape of his teeth, exactly how many bad words Heechul had taught Hankyung over the course of their friendship.
--
Kibum really liked how this “single” thing was working out. He got a lot of sex without the fuss of having to constantly make time in his busy schedule for dates and cute outings and buying presents. He didn’t mind those things, really, and sometimes he missed having a girlfriend to just hold hands with, but in Super Junior, a lack of skinship could never really be a legitimate complaint. So Kibum made the best of things and got his fill of people time with the members, then went out on his own to find a girl or a boy or a fellow bandmate to fuck.
He had just come back from doing a girl in the back alley of a club, her skirt hitched up past her hips and her legs around his waist, when he ran into Shindong.
“Whoa, Kibummie, are you drunk?” He sounded concerned, reaching out a hand to steady Kibum.
“A little,” Kibum admitted. He didn’t offer an explanation and Shindong didn’t ask for one, helping Kibum back into the building and into the elevator.
“You’re back?” Heechul asked Shindong. Then he caught sight of Kibum and shook his head, looking far too amused for Kibum’s comfort. Anything Heechul found funny about Kibum always tended to end badly for Kibum, generally speaking.
“Yah, Shindong, since you’re such a great hyung, go help Kibum to bed.”
Shindong shrugged and nodded, but Kibum only laughed, a little louder than he would have normally. “Why don’t you do it, Cinderella?”
“Who said I was a good hyung?” Heechul arched an eyebrow at him and waggled his fingers in farewell as Shindong half-dragged Kibum to his bedroom. Kibum thought he heard, before the door closed, Heechul commenting that good little Christian boys shouldn’t go out to clubs and drink. Rolling his eyes, Kibum collapsed on the bed, legs spread. He stared at the ceiling in somewhat dazed thoughtfulness.
“Hyung,” he said, low.
Shindong glanced over at him. Kibum grinned lazily at the expression on his face. How was one supposed to react to one’s bandmate and dongsaeng groping themselves through their jeans in front of you? It was a question for the ages, Kibum thought, as he rubbed at his cock through the denim.
“Help me, hyung,” he pleaded, voice a little breathier than normal. He didn’t miss the gleam in Shindong’s eyes as he made his way to the bed, steps sure and confident. Kibum wasn’t surprised. Shindong probably got as much as action as Kibum did, at least with the female half of the population. He liked sex almost as much as Kibum did. And he was at least a little bi-curious, if the hand he placed on top of Kibum’s was any indication.
--
“I’m going to motherfucking murder you,” Kibum said and bashed Kyuhyun’s head into a wall, then kicked him in the face.
“That was totally uncalled for.” Kyuhyun frowned at the TV screen. “Just because I stole half your gold.”
“You’re just lucky I can’t kill you,” Kibum muttered, “because you stole half my weapons too.”
Kyuhyun shrugged. “I can’t help that I’m good.” The TV beeped and his fingers flew over the game controller. Kibum’s character doubled over, life draining as Kyuhyun’s hit him with a bolt of some sort of magic.
“You play dirty,” Kibum observed, sounding not particularly pleased. Beside him, Kyuhyun grinned, unrepentant.
Kibum thought that maybe it was time the magnae learned a little lesson about seniority and about respect for one’s elders and, most importantly, about the fact that no one played dirtier than Kibum (except for maybe Donghae, but his was generally of a different sort utilizing the power of puppy dog eyes that no one had yet found immunity to).
Shifting his grip on his controller, Kibum pressed it against his crossed legs so he could press the buttons with one hand, and let the free hand drop into Kyuhyun’s lap.
“Hyung,” Kyuhyun said sharply, not looking away from the screen.
“Yes?” Kibum asked, not bothering to hide his amusement. He massaged gently through the fabric of Kyuhyun’s jeans, fingers groping towards the inseam and palm pressed against the fly.
Still watching the TV and attempting complicated attack combinations with his left hand, Kibum rubbed at Kyuhyun with increasing firmness, speeding up as he sensed the younger boy’s faltering attention. He could tell the instant Kyuhyun stopped paying attention to the game, because a low moan escaped his throat and his hips pushed forward into Kibum’s hand.
In the game, Kibum stole Kyuhyun’s weapons and started hacking away at him. Beside Kibum, Kyuhyun let the controller fall limply from his hands as Kibum worked at the zipper of Kyuhyun’s jeans, inching his fingers inside. It was tight and warm and a little damp, as Kibum passed the thin fabric of Kyuhyun’s boxers and made straight for the prize.
“Nnngh,” Kyuhyun whimpered as Kibum flicked his thumb across the head of his cock.
On TV, Kibum dropped his sword. In real life, Kibum dropped his video game controller. “Winner tops,” he murmured, eyes hooded as he gently pushed Kyuhyun back until he was lying flat on the ground. He leaned over him, lowering his head for a kiss; the screen flashed YOU WIN!!! behind him.
--
Kangin was the first time Kibum had bottomed, ever. Kangin was also the first time Kibum had experienced rimming and, holy fuck, he should do this more often. Kibum bucked against the workout bench, his cock sliding wet and sticky across the leather seat, painfully arousing. Kangin muttered something behind him that he couldn’t hear because, fuck, that was Kangin’s tongue tracing patterns over Kibum’s ass, licking down the crevice as Kangin’s hands held Kibum’s legs apart.
Straddling the bench was uncomfortable, but Kibum didn’t care. He didn’t care that his tank top was pushed up and tangled under his arms, or that he’d lost his shorts somewhere. He was only briefly grateful that Kangin had had the foresight to remove the bench press bar earlier, so Kibum wasn’t in danger of hitting his head as he squirmed.
“Hyung,” he choked out, sweaty hair sticking to his face. “Hyung, god, fuck me.”
“I thought Heechul said you were a good little Christian boy,” Kangin laughed. His lips were smoothing their way across Kibum’s bare bottom. “Said you never took the Lord’s name in vain.”
“Heechul-hyung is a liar,” Kibum panted, arching back, desperate for contact. “Hyung, please.”
It was strange to be so desperate, but the entire affair was strange. Kangin’s cock, slick with lube, sliding into him was strange, giving Kibum an odd sense of fullness he’d never quite experienced before. Kangin’s strong hands gripping his hips were strange, too, and the smooth feel of the leather against his bare skin. It was all strange, but Kibum didn’t care, because his body rocked in pleasure every time Kangin thrust into him, their cries and grunts echoing in the small private gym.
“Oh god, oh god, oh motherfucking Christ,” Kibum swore when he came into his own hand.
Kangin laughed at him, rolling off Kibum to sit on the floor, his back to the wall. He shook his head, flushed. “Fuck, I love it when Heechul is wrong,” he said blissfully.
--
Sleeping with Sungmin had happened more fortuitously than intentionally. Kibum had meant to get around to him eventually, of course, but it was luck that made Sungmin the only one home that Saturday that Kibum came to the dorms with a newly-formed bruise on his face.
“What happened?” Sungmin asked, leaping to his feet as Kibum came through the door with a hand cradled gingerly to his face and a grimace.
“I…got slapped,” Kibum admitted sheepishly. He shrugged a little. Who would’ve guessed Hyorin was such a prude? He’d only slipped a hand up her skirt; he hadn’t even gotten started on anything good before she’d leaped to her feet and slapped him.
“You’re such a player, Kibum.” Sungmin gave him a critical look before going to the fridge to get him some ice.
Kibum didn’t respond and leaned against the counter.
“But I guess I’m one to talk.” With a small smile, Sungmin moved closer to hold a towel wrapped around ice to his face. This close, Kibum could see the way he was deliberately keeping his eyes lowered, lashes long over his pale, perfect skin. He caught the small dart of pink tongue that wetted Sungmin’s lips too.
“Ah, hyung,” Kibum said, shifting his stance against the counter so Sungmin could step closer, between his legs. He did, still not meeting Kibum’s eyes.
Kibum grinned. Sungmin knew how to play this game too.
“You get all the pretty noonas.” Kibum casually slid a hand into Sungmin’s back pocket. He could feel Sungmin’s shrug against his arm.
“Only the ones who like the cute type.” Sungmin grinned up at him, finally meeting his eyes. His were hooded, though, low-lidded and seductive. “All the ones who like the cool type go to you.” He put his free hand on Kibum’s hip, idly playing with the hem of his shirt.
“You know, I like the cute type.”
Sungmin was silent as he removed the ice pack from Kibum’s face. “Oh really?” he breathed into Kibum’s ear, his breath hot against Kibum’s chilled skin. The smile he smiled was so feral that Kibum wanted to lick it off. He could learn some useful tips from Sungmin, Kibum realized with a slow sort of burn. He hadn’t realized it before.
“Really, hyung,” Kibum breathed.
Sungmin kissed him then, and then did something with his hands that had Kibum’s nipples hard and his cock jumping, and did something else with his tongue that had Kibum’s stomach flipping and his body tightening, and Kibum almost came right then.
Kibum clung to his self control as Sungmin mellowed the kiss, moving his tongue lazily in Kibum’s mouth.
Kibum could learn a lot from Sungmin.
--
Kibum had expected sleeping with Eunhyuk to be one of the easier things to do; he had expected Eunhyuk to be one of the easier things to do. It actually turned out to be more complicated than he’d imagined, because Eunhyuk was so nervous that Kibum almost bit him twice, once on accident and once because he wanted Eunhyuk to just shut up.
“We’re one flimsy door away from a hallway of managers and producers and staff,” Kibum hissed at him. “Shut up, hyung, and we’ll get this over with before you have to go on air.”
The supply closet in one of the halls of KBS Radio, farther from the Sukira broadcasting room than most, was hardly the ideal place for a blowjob, but Kibum hadn’t been able to resist the shy little sidelong glances Eunhyuk had been shooting him all day. He couldn’t have been more obvious if he’d been wearing a shirt that proclaimed I’m curious. Please fuck me.
“Okay, sorry, I just,” Eunhyuk flailed a little, banging his hand against the wall and wincing.
Kibum growled, low in his throat, and Eunhyuk whimpered as the vibrations slid along his cock. He slapped his hands over his mouth in an effort to keep the sounds locked in, his eyes squeezed shut.
“You know what,” said Kibum, getting to his feet. “Maybe you need something to occupy your mouth.” Since you can’t seem to shut the fuck up.
Eunhyuk’s eyes flew open in surprise. “Kibum?” he asked uncertainly.
Kibum smiled at him, all white teeth and predatory gleam in his eyes. “Here’s a hint,” he purred, as he pulled down his zipper. He hadn’t bothered with underwear that day and Eunhyuk’s eyes widened even more as Kibum took his own cock into his hands, giving it a careless, loose stroke. He gave Eunhyuk an expectant look.
The older man sunk to his knees. “Okay,” he said doubtfully. He took a deep breath. “Okay.” Lifting trembling hands, he placed them lightly, unsure, on Kibum’s hips. He leaned forward slowly and licked a small circle around the head of Kibum’s cock.
Kibum let out his breath between his teeth.
Encouraged, Eunhyuk moved closer and explored more with his lips and his tongue and, very, very gently, his teeth. Kibum resisted the urge to thrust forward into that wet heat and fuck Eunhyuk’s mouth, but his hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists with the effort of holding back.
In the end, after Kibum came Eunhyuk choked a little, then choked a little more when Kibum pulled him up to kiss him, come and all, Eunhyuk left for Sukira. Kibum didn’t mention the flecks of dried come in his hair, positive the camera wouldn’t catch it and that Leeteuk would.
Kibum grinned and licked the taste of himself off his lips.
--
Leeteuk was easy. Too, too easy. He came to talk to Kibum about his new thing of sleeping with all the members, but he ended up in Kibum’s bed, and the words he was saying sounded less like, “I don’t think you should be doing this” and more like “please, please, please, harder, Kibum—”
Kibum laughed softly and blew lightly on the back of his neck, stirring the fine hairs there. “Anything for leader-sshi.” He canted his hips and drew back slowly, maddeningly, then thrust forward. He rocked his hips in a steady rhythm as Leeteuk whimpered under him, fingers curling into the sheets as his back arched.
He was prettiest this way, Kibum thought. Prettier than when he tried too hard to be cute, or manly, or anything but himself. Leeteuk had been made to be fucked, just like this, long and hard so he trembled and cried and left marks he would avoid looking at the next day.
The next day, they continued the filming for the U MV, and Kibum couldn’t resist teasing Leeteuk a little, pinning him to the wall and whispering dirty things into his ear. Leeteuk’s hands had settled on his hips, wanting but hesitant, and then a camera had turned on them and suddenly it was all just fanservice. Leeteuk’s touches were jokes, now, and Kibum laughed and walked away with his arm slung over Leeteuk’s shoulders. When the cameras were gone, however, Kibum leaned in to trace his tongue over the shell of Leeteuk’s ear.
Leeteuk shuddered and Kibum smiled at him, eyes speaking volumes, darker than usual and rimmed with eyeliner.
“Tonight, you can tell me what to do,” he promised.
--
Siwon was probably the hardest out of all the members since he was, as Heechul termed it so gracefully, a “good little Christian boy”. Then again, Kibum reasoned, so was he. And what was a little mutual pleasure between good little Christian boys, right?
Siwon took a little more convincing, but it was easier to do when he was drunk. Siwon apparently had fewer reservations about drinking than he did about gay sex, though Kibum supposed that might have been because Siwon hadn’t known his punch had been thoroughly spiked. Sungmin was thoughtful that way. Kibum made a mental note to thank him later.
“I think I’m drunk,” Siwon said after his fifth cup of very alcoholic fruit punch. “I don’t think fruit punch is supposed to do that.”
”Probably not,” Kibum agreed, busy helping Siwon with the buttons of his shirt. “I’ll have to ask Sungmin what he put in it.” And that handily absolved Kibum of blame for getting Siwon drunk and horny – well. Kibum smirked at the sizeable erection tenting Siwon’s otherwise neatly creased dress pants. Kibum might have had something to do with the horny part. Being regaled with Kibum’s various sex escapades while they drank had made Siwon a little…uncomfortable, in more than one sense of the word.
“Like I said,” Kibum murmured, undoing the last button on Siwon’s shirt and sliding it off his, mm, very nice shoulders, “Yoobin-noona gives excellent blowjobs, but if we’re talking handjobs, no one can beat Jaejoong-hyung. It’s probably all the practice he gets with his band. At least, that’s Changmin’s theory.” As he talked, he wrapped his hands over Siwon’s shoulders and dug into the tense muscle there with his thumbs. “It’s okay, hyung,” he said gently, “relax.”
“I-I don’t know if I can,” Siwon mumbled, shifting his position on the floor. Kibum watched his pants pull tight over his erection and licked his lips.
“Just relax,” he said soothingly. “I’ll make you feel good, okay?”
Very, very good, as he worked out the tenseness in Siwon’s neck and shoulders, then dropped his hands into Siwon’s lap to give him altogether happier ending.
Siwon, it turned out, fucked extremely well for a good little Christian boy.
--
Kibum had always been close friends with Ryeowook, so it wasn’t strange for them to just hang out without really doing anything exciting, or talking a lot. Ryeowook was trying to compose music, picking out notes and chords on his keyboard, while Kibum lounged on the bed, flipping through a magazine.
Sleeping with Ryeowook was different from sleeping with everyone else. It was less hurried, for one, not as frantic and desperate as it had been for everyone who had come before. Kibum found that he enjoyed persuading Ryeowook to leave the keyboard and join him on the bed. He enjoyed cuddling and lazily, slowly, stroking Ryeowook to arousal and desire. He felt no rush at all, only pleasure in seeing Ryeowook’s eyes glaze over as he bared himself to Kibum, emotionally and physically.
Sleeping with Ryeowook was almost not about the sex, except of course it still was. It was different, though, because Kibum was gentler than he’d ever been before. There was something about the way Ryeowook trusted him, different from the way everyone else trusted him, or knew him, or didn’t know him. Ryeowook wasn’t just a stranger, he was a friend, and he wasn’t just a friend, but one of Kibum’s closest.
Maybe Kibum was going slow because he didn’t want to ruin one of his best friendships. He kissed Ryeowook softly, one finger probing lightly. Then again, maybe he was just going slow because Ryeowook was such a blessed virgin.
Whatever it was, Kibum liked that it was different. It didn’t mean he loved Ryeowook better or more than he loved the other members, but it at least reflected that their relationship was different. There was something soothing about the soft music Ryeowook had left playing in the background as he’d moved to the bed, still playing as he now moved under Kibum, flushed and panting. There was something warm about going slow and doing everything just right and even in holding Ryeowook afterwards.
Kibum didn’t think he was much of a traditionalist in terms of relationships, probably a given considering his current sexual repertoire, but he didn’t mind being just a little bit traditional for Ryeowook. Who could, surprisingly, do some extraordinary things with his tongue.
--
When it came down to it, Donghae was Kibum’s favorite. Then again, Donghae was everyone’s favorite, so it was no surprise. Kibum had a soft spot for him that rivaled Heechul’s soft spot for him, though Kibum’s was a much better kept secret because he didn’t go running off at the mouth the way Heechul did.
Donghae made Kibum smile, made him laugh, and made him so hot that he sometimes wanted to fuck the career and pull Donghae over to him in the middle of a performance and kiss the holy hell out of him. As of yet, Kibum had managed to resist, but Donghae didn’t make it easy. In fact, if he weren’t Donghae, and so cheerfully oblivious, Kibum would think he was doing it on purpose, all that clinging and hugging and hip-thrusting and smiling and soft, low, bedroom voice.
It wasn’t until Donghae cornered Kibum at his flat that Kibum realized that Donghae had been doing it on purpose. For a very specific purpose.
“Kibummie,” he complained, looking incredibly put out. “I’ve been keeping track and you’ve slept with every single member except me. I didn’t think you’d crack Ryeowook, he’s so virginal, but you did, and now you’ve slept with everyone except me.” His expression was unhappy and accusatory.
Kibum blinked at him in surprise. “I was…going to get to you, hyung,” he replied mildly. Eventually. Hopefully repeatedly and in many different ways, because Kibum had a very active imagination and his morning showers for the past week had been particularly interesting.
Donghae’s lower lip slid out. “I’m tired of waiting.” His eyes flashed and then suddenly his expression was entirely different, no longer pouting and childish but something much more adult, dark and subtle and promising.
Kibum’s eyes widened slightly. Donghae gave him a very small, very wicked grin, before pulling his t-shirt off and padding towards Kibum’s bedroom. His belt was off and on the floor before he turned to glance at Kibum over his shoulder. “Aren’t you coming?” he asked suggestively. He pushed his jeans off his hips and stepped out of them, his black boxer-briefs clinging to him like second skin.
Kibum swallowed hard. How had he underestimated this one?
“I hope you’re not busy,” Donghae added cheerfully as Kibum followed him to the bedroom. He sprawled onto Kibum’s queen-sized bed and ran a hand over his bare torso, catching his fingers in the silver cross he wore around his neck. “I plan on making you make up to me all the time you spent sleeping with the other members and not with me. That’s at least eleven orgasms you owe me.”
Kibum wasn’t quite listening because Donghae’s fingers, still tangled in the necklace, skated dangerously close to a nipple. The cross caught the light and flashed and Kibum groaned.
“Oh my God, hyung,” he muttered, eyes locked to the piece of jewelry. “Take off the fucking briefs already and I’ll fuck you into tomorrow. Just…keep that on.”
Donghae chortled. “I knew it,” he announced, as he pulled Kibum onto the bed with him, hooking a leg over Kibum’s. “You totally have a religious kink. Heechul-hyung owes me money.” Kibum groaned again and buried his face in Donghae’s neck, attaching his mouth to skin and sucking. Donghae squirmed under him and hmm-ed happily.
“And don’t think you’re the only one doing the fucking,” he purred, radiating satisfaction as he slid possessive hands over Kibum’s back.
--
“You’re such a fucking slut,” Heechul declared. “How on earth do people think you’re a ‘good little Christian boy’?”
“You just don’t understand, hyung,” Kibum said, looking up from his book. He moved a little to the side on his bed so Heechul could flop down and give him a skeptical look, his head resting on Kibum’s lap.
“Enlighten me, Snow White.”
“I bring people to God through sex,” Kibum told him, straight-faced.
Heechul stared at him. “Oh my fucking god,” he gasped in disbelief. “You have got to be kidding me. Kim Kibum, you are fucking priceless.” He started to laugh, a little hysterical, breathless.
Kibum regarded him for a moment, blasé. “So have you found God yet, or should I fuck you again?”
Heechul repeated, “Fucking priceless.” Then he smirked and arched, moving his arm to cup the back of Kibum’s neck and tug him down. “Try again, Kibummie. I think if you fuck me hard enough, you’ll be able fuck some religion into me.”
--
Some days, Kibum blamed Park Soomin for turning him into a sex maniac. But those days were rare. Most of the time, he thanked God for her, for helping him realize his calling as a sex god. Generally, the world thanked her too.
--
Started: 2008.08.20
Finished: 2008.08.21
Notes: LOLOL yes the description of Donghae (i.e., what he's wearing) is totally stolen from Chris's EunHae fic. It's smoking hot, okay? Also, shut up, I'm sorry my biases are obvious like an obvious thing. :(
So, picture this set sometime in 2006, I guess, because I couldn't make myself make this even longer and write Henry and Zhou Mi into this. Plus, Kibum was freaking hot back in the U/Dancing Out days.
Er, also, there is lots of blasphemous religious talk, which I will meta on someday, but yeah. Be aware. Then again, this is an NC-17 slash fic. You know what you're going into, right?
Happy freaking birthday, Kim Kibum. For your birthday, I think you should come find me and do unspeakable things to me. God, why are you so hot?
Playing the Field
Super Junior, Kibum/everyone (some Kibum/Heechul), NC-17, 5585 words
When good little Christian boys are also sex gods.
Playing the Field
by
meitachiKibum’s first kiss was with a girl in ninth grade when he was in L.A. He was only in eighth grade himself, but it was then he’d started liking older girls, a trend he hadn’t quite grown out of. There was just something about their being unattainable that made Kibum want them even more.
After Kibum had returned to Korea, he’d continued dating older girls – Park Soomin was the first girl he’d noticed in his church youth group because she’d been pretty, confident, and two years older than him. She had been his real first love and probably the reason why he hadn’t been as close to the other SM trainees as he could’ve been: he was always in a hurry to leave the company to go see her instead, turning down opportunities to hang out and bond when he could be on a date instead.
Kibum didn’t regret it, because the first time he had sex was with Soomin. It was mind-blowing and as close to perfect as sex could get. Forget the disclaimers by people who claimed that losing one’s virginity was always awkward and messy and full of mistakes; Kibum’s first time had shudderingly hot and fucking awesome, and not just because it was his first time and anything to do with someone else making him come was amazing, but because Soomin knew what she was doing. There were definite perks to dating older women.
What Kibum, or anyone, really, hadn’t known then was that how that mind-blowing introduction to sex changed the shape of Kibum’s future.
Kibum had lost his virginity to very good sex. All his experiences after that also entailed very good sex. So Kibum liked sex a lot, and when he and Soomin broke up, it was the sex he missed the most.
But there were definite perks to being single too.
--
“You know,” Heechul drawled at him, “we all call Siwonnie our good little Christian boy, but you go to church every Sunday too. Hell, you’ve believed even longer than he has.” The challenge in his voice was unmistakable.
Kibum risked looking up from his computer game to smile at the older man, leaning against the doorframe to Kibum’s room. “Your point, hyung?”
“I’m questioning the indiscriminate sex you have pretty much every night,” Heechul elaborated with a roll of his eyes.
“I discriminate.” Kibum returned to his game. He didn’t have to look at Heechul to hear the scoff or picture the smirk on his face.
“Please, Kibum. Your only standards are that it has to be female, human, and breathing.”
“A nice pair of legs helps.” Kibum shot down two enemies with clinical efficiency, and added without looking up from the game as his character rounded a corner and sighted five more enemies: “And I’ve never restricted myself to only females.”
For a minute, the only sound in the room was the explosions from the computer speakers as Kibum wiped the field, covering the screen with digital blood.
Then Heechul said, sounding positively delighted, “That is one fucking special way of coming out.”
--
Kibum’s first conquest in Super Junior was, understandably, Heechul. He’d been the first Kibum had let know that Kibum swung both ways, after all, so he deserved the honor. It was also a little ironic, Kibum thought as watched Heechul eye him predatorily, smirk curling his lips. It was ironic since Heechul had hated him so fiercely just a few years ago, before Kibum had gone to the U.S. and come back.
Then again, Kibum was a completely different person from before. He peeled off his t-shirt and smiled to himself when Heechul’s eyes dropped to his bare torso.
“I approve,” he purred. “All your working out actually goes towards something.”
“Thank you for your approval,” Kibum replied, deadpan. He laughed when Heechul scowled at him.
“Yah. I don’t know if I like you talking back like this. In fact…” Kibum felt his interest stir when Heechul’s eyes darkened and his voice dropped an octave. The older man stepped closer, until he could reach out and place his hand on Kibum’s chest, feather light and barely there. “In fact,” he whispered, “let’s play a game.”
Kibum cocked his head and met Heechul’s eyes.
“Let’s pretend you’re fourteen again,” Heechul said and let his hand drift lower across Kibum’s stomach. “Let’s pretend I still hate you.” His hand paused at the waistband of Kibum’s track pants. “Let’s pretend you really, really, really want me to like you.” His voice, soft, danced like electricity over Kibum’s skin, as he punctuated each really with a trailing finger over Kibum’s crotch.
“H-hyung,” Kibum stammered.
Heechul’s smirk grew into a smug grin. “Shut up, Kibum, and put your mouth to better use.”
Kibum could play this game. He could play it well, with shy, embarrassed strokes of his tongue and tentative fingers. He could play it until Heechul muttered, “Jesus motherfucking Christ,” under his breath and dug his fingers into Kibum’s shoulders, nails leaving imprints, and coming all over Kibum’s face.
Kibum wiped himself off with a tissue after and said mildly, “Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, hyung.”
--
Yesung being second was a bit of a miscalculation. Kibum wouldn’t call it a mistake, because he still got sex out of it, and anything that involved sex tended to not be so bad – but, truthfully speaking, he had been setting his sights on Hankyung. It was a matter of bad timing, a misplaced wallet, and what Kibum suspected was Heechul’s interference, but the Monday night that Kibum had planned to corner Hankyung in their dorm when he knew both Heechul and Jay were out, Hankyung was nowhere to be found. Instead, Yesung showed up, bitching about the other dorm and how he was sick to death of Donghae and Eunhyuk’s antics.
“Sometimes it’s like it’s not just two years that separate us,” he groused, “it’s more like twelve years. What are they, six?” He flounced to the couch in the living room and threw himself over it, sprawling across the length in a sullen manner.
Kibum regarded him momentarily, hands on his hips. “Your math is wrong,” he said at last. “Twenty minus twelve is eight, not six.”
Yesung moved the arm he’d thrown over his face to expose one glaring eye.
With a small grin to himself – he did so love provoking his hyungs – Kibum walked over to the couch and calmly slid a leg onto the couch so he was straddling Yesung. He had been planning to get his hands on Hankyung tonight and run his hands down that dancer’s body, long and lithe, but he could work with this too. Yesung smelled like smoke – he did tend to pull out the cigarettes when he was stressed. Kibum found it hot, and inhaled it deep into his lungs, feeling a tingle of arousal.
Yesung gave him a questioning look when Kibum leaned forward until he was propped up on the couch over Yesung. He grinned as his bangs fell into his eyes and Yesung expression melted into one of wariness.
“What the hell,” he started, because Kibum wasn’t one for skinship.
“You know what’s a good way to release your anger and frustration?” Kibum licked his lips. Yesung’s eyes followed the path of his tongue, and swallowed hard. He didn’t respond so Kibum leaned a little further down, scooting down Yesung’s hips until his stirring arousal was pressed right up against Kibum’s ass.
“Sex,” Kibum said, trailing his fingers over Yesung’s mouth. Then he chuckled, Yesung’s hips twitched, and Kibum’s fingers slid past parted lips into slick heat.
--
Kibum did manage to get Hankyung next, though, and it was even easier than he’d expected. All it’d taken was a quiet request that they stay after everyone left for a private dance instruction, really. Kibum had faked a stumble a few minutes in, and he’d taken a break to lean against the mirror, looking upset as Hankyung approached him to comfort him.
“It’s okay,” Hankyung said, bringing a hand up to pat Kibum’s shoulder.
Kibum breathed out long between lips he knew were red from his teeth. “Yeah, thanks, just…” He sighed and slumped even further against the mirror, knowing he was sweaty and his hair was messy and there was a sliver of skin showing between his low-slung track pants and his black wifebeater. “I wish I didn’t suck so much,” he said wryly, glancing over at Hankyung.
Hankyung’s eyes jerked away from his collarbone and he looked faintly embarrassed. “No, Kibum, you’re not…that bad.” His words were uncertain. Kibum didn’t mind. He knew his dancing prowess was nothing to brag about. He had other skills to get him through life.
“Thanks for staying with me anyway.” With a little self-deprecating half-smile, Kibum wrapped his arms around Hankyung in a hug, hiding his smirk in Hankyung’s hair when the older man froze in his embrace. He was half-hard against Kibum’s hip, the rest of him tense with shock and frozen in shame.
“Ki-Kibum,” he managed, “sorry, I don’t mean— I didn’t—”
“Only half hard, hyung?” Kibum asked against his ear.
Hankyung froze again, and then Kibum’s hand had snaked between their bodies, loosely gripping Hankyung’s erection through his sweatpants.
“I think we can do better than that, right?” Kibum pulled back far enough to smile brightly at Hankyung, who flushed bright red.
“Kibum!”
“Mmm,” Kibum returned, and moved his hand under Hankyung’s waistband. “Consider this thanks for helping me with the dance.” He curled his fingers and Hankyung gasped, twisting his hands in the fabric of Kibum’s tank top.
“Fuck,” he choked, eyes closing.
Kibum proceeded to tease out, with every flick of his wrist and scrape of his teeth, exactly how many bad words Heechul had taught Hankyung over the course of their friendship.
--
Kibum really liked how this “single” thing was working out. He got a lot of sex without the fuss of having to constantly make time in his busy schedule for dates and cute outings and buying presents. He didn’t mind those things, really, and sometimes he missed having a girlfriend to just hold hands with, but in Super Junior, a lack of skinship could never really be a legitimate complaint. So Kibum made the best of things and got his fill of people time with the members, then went out on his own to find a girl or a boy or a fellow bandmate to fuck.
He had just come back from doing a girl in the back alley of a club, her skirt hitched up past her hips and her legs around his waist, when he ran into Shindong.
“Whoa, Kibummie, are you drunk?” He sounded concerned, reaching out a hand to steady Kibum.
“A little,” Kibum admitted. He didn’t offer an explanation and Shindong didn’t ask for one, helping Kibum back into the building and into the elevator.
“You’re back?” Heechul asked Shindong. Then he caught sight of Kibum and shook his head, looking far too amused for Kibum’s comfort. Anything Heechul found funny about Kibum always tended to end badly for Kibum, generally speaking.
“Yah, Shindong, since you’re such a great hyung, go help Kibum to bed.”
Shindong shrugged and nodded, but Kibum only laughed, a little louder than he would have normally. “Why don’t you do it, Cinderella?”
“Who said I was a good hyung?” Heechul arched an eyebrow at him and waggled his fingers in farewell as Shindong half-dragged Kibum to his bedroom. Kibum thought he heard, before the door closed, Heechul commenting that good little Christian boys shouldn’t go out to clubs and drink. Rolling his eyes, Kibum collapsed on the bed, legs spread. He stared at the ceiling in somewhat dazed thoughtfulness.
“Hyung,” he said, low.
Shindong glanced over at him. Kibum grinned lazily at the expression on his face. How was one supposed to react to one’s bandmate and dongsaeng groping themselves through their jeans in front of you? It was a question for the ages, Kibum thought, as he rubbed at his cock through the denim.
“Help me, hyung,” he pleaded, voice a little breathier than normal. He didn’t miss the gleam in Shindong’s eyes as he made his way to the bed, steps sure and confident. Kibum wasn’t surprised. Shindong probably got as much as action as Kibum did, at least with the female half of the population. He liked sex almost as much as Kibum did. And he was at least a little bi-curious, if the hand he placed on top of Kibum’s was any indication.
--
“I’m going to motherfucking murder you,” Kibum said and bashed Kyuhyun’s head into a wall, then kicked him in the face.
“That was totally uncalled for.” Kyuhyun frowned at the TV screen. “Just because I stole half your gold.”
“You’re just lucky I can’t kill you,” Kibum muttered, “because you stole half my weapons too.”
Kyuhyun shrugged. “I can’t help that I’m good.” The TV beeped and his fingers flew over the game controller. Kibum’s character doubled over, life draining as Kyuhyun’s hit him with a bolt of some sort of magic.
“You play dirty,” Kibum observed, sounding not particularly pleased. Beside him, Kyuhyun grinned, unrepentant.
Kibum thought that maybe it was time the magnae learned a little lesson about seniority and about respect for one’s elders and, most importantly, about the fact that no one played dirtier than Kibum (except for maybe Donghae, but his was generally of a different sort utilizing the power of puppy dog eyes that no one had yet found immunity to).
Shifting his grip on his controller, Kibum pressed it against his crossed legs so he could press the buttons with one hand, and let the free hand drop into Kyuhyun’s lap.
“Hyung,” Kyuhyun said sharply, not looking away from the screen.
“Yes?” Kibum asked, not bothering to hide his amusement. He massaged gently through the fabric of Kyuhyun’s jeans, fingers groping towards the inseam and palm pressed against the fly.
Still watching the TV and attempting complicated attack combinations with his left hand, Kibum rubbed at Kyuhyun with increasing firmness, speeding up as he sensed the younger boy’s faltering attention. He could tell the instant Kyuhyun stopped paying attention to the game, because a low moan escaped his throat and his hips pushed forward into Kibum’s hand.
In the game, Kibum stole Kyuhyun’s weapons and started hacking away at him. Beside Kibum, Kyuhyun let the controller fall limply from his hands as Kibum worked at the zipper of Kyuhyun’s jeans, inching his fingers inside. It was tight and warm and a little damp, as Kibum passed the thin fabric of Kyuhyun’s boxers and made straight for the prize.
“Nnngh,” Kyuhyun whimpered as Kibum flicked his thumb across the head of his cock.
On TV, Kibum dropped his sword. In real life, Kibum dropped his video game controller. “Winner tops,” he murmured, eyes hooded as he gently pushed Kyuhyun back until he was lying flat on the ground. He leaned over him, lowering his head for a kiss; the screen flashed YOU WIN!!! behind him.
--
Kangin was the first time Kibum had bottomed, ever. Kangin was also the first time Kibum had experienced rimming and, holy fuck, he should do this more often. Kibum bucked against the workout bench, his cock sliding wet and sticky across the leather seat, painfully arousing. Kangin muttered something behind him that he couldn’t hear because, fuck, that was Kangin’s tongue tracing patterns over Kibum’s ass, licking down the crevice as Kangin’s hands held Kibum’s legs apart.
Straddling the bench was uncomfortable, but Kibum didn’t care. He didn’t care that his tank top was pushed up and tangled under his arms, or that he’d lost his shorts somewhere. He was only briefly grateful that Kangin had had the foresight to remove the bench press bar earlier, so Kibum wasn’t in danger of hitting his head as he squirmed.
“Hyung,” he choked out, sweaty hair sticking to his face. “Hyung, god, fuck me.”
“I thought Heechul said you were a good little Christian boy,” Kangin laughed. His lips were smoothing their way across Kibum’s bare bottom. “Said you never took the Lord’s name in vain.”
“Heechul-hyung is a liar,” Kibum panted, arching back, desperate for contact. “Hyung, please.”
It was strange to be so desperate, but the entire affair was strange. Kangin’s cock, slick with lube, sliding into him was strange, giving Kibum an odd sense of fullness he’d never quite experienced before. Kangin’s strong hands gripping his hips were strange, too, and the smooth feel of the leather against his bare skin. It was all strange, but Kibum didn’t care, because his body rocked in pleasure every time Kangin thrust into him, their cries and grunts echoing in the small private gym.
“Oh god, oh god, oh motherfucking Christ,” Kibum swore when he came into his own hand.
Kangin laughed at him, rolling off Kibum to sit on the floor, his back to the wall. He shook his head, flushed. “Fuck, I love it when Heechul is wrong,” he said blissfully.
--
Sleeping with Sungmin had happened more fortuitously than intentionally. Kibum had meant to get around to him eventually, of course, but it was luck that made Sungmin the only one home that Saturday that Kibum came to the dorms with a newly-formed bruise on his face.
“What happened?” Sungmin asked, leaping to his feet as Kibum came through the door with a hand cradled gingerly to his face and a grimace.
“I…got slapped,” Kibum admitted sheepishly. He shrugged a little. Who would’ve guessed Hyorin was such a prude? He’d only slipped a hand up her skirt; he hadn’t even gotten started on anything good before she’d leaped to her feet and slapped him.
“You’re such a player, Kibum.” Sungmin gave him a critical look before going to the fridge to get him some ice.
Kibum didn’t respond and leaned against the counter.
“But I guess I’m one to talk.” With a small smile, Sungmin moved closer to hold a towel wrapped around ice to his face. This close, Kibum could see the way he was deliberately keeping his eyes lowered, lashes long over his pale, perfect skin. He caught the small dart of pink tongue that wetted Sungmin’s lips too.
“Ah, hyung,” Kibum said, shifting his stance against the counter so Sungmin could step closer, between his legs. He did, still not meeting Kibum’s eyes.
Kibum grinned. Sungmin knew how to play this game too.
“You get all the pretty noonas.” Kibum casually slid a hand into Sungmin’s back pocket. He could feel Sungmin’s shrug against his arm.
“Only the ones who like the cute type.” Sungmin grinned up at him, finally meeting his eyes. His were hooded, though, low-lidded and seductive. “All the ones who like the cool type go to you.” He put his free hand on Kibum’s hip, idly playing with the hem of his shirt.
“You know, I like the cute type.”
Sungmin was silent as he removed the ice pack from Kibum’s face. “Oh really?” he breathed into Kibum’s ear, his breath hot against Kibum’s chilled skin. The smile he smiled was so feral that Kibum wanted to lick it off. He could learn some useful tips from Sungmin, Kibum realized with a slow sort of burn. He hadn’t realized it before.
“Really, hyung,” Kibum breathed.
Sungmin kissed him then, and then did something with his hands that had Kibum’s nipples hard and his cock jumping, and did something else with his tongue that had Kibum’s stomach flipping and his body tightening, and Kibum almost came right then.
Kibum clung to his self control as Sungmin mellowed the kiss, moving his tongue lazily in Kibum’s mouth.
Kibum could learn a lot from Sungmin.
--
Kibum had expected sleeping with Eunhyuk to be one of the easier things to do; he had expected Eunhyuk to be one of the easier things to do. It actually turned out to be more complicated than he’d imagined, because Eunhyuk was so nervous that Kibum almost bit him twice, once on accident and once because he wanted Eunhyuk to just shut up.
“We’re one flimsy door away from a hallway of managers and producers and staff,” Kibum hissed at him. “Shut up, hyung, and we’ll get this over with before you have to go on air.”
The supply closet in one of the halls of KBS Radio, farther from the Sukira broadcasting room than most, was hardly the ideal place for a blowjob, but Kibum hadn’t been able to resist the shy little sidelong glances Eunhyuk had been shooting him all day. He couldn’t have been more obvious if he’d been wearing a shirt that proclaimed I’m curious. Please fuck me.
“Okay, sorry, I just,” Eunhyuk flailed a little, banging his hand against the wall and wincing.
Kibum growled, low in his throat, and Eunhyuk whimpered as the vibrations slid along his cock. He slapped his hands over his mouth in an effort to keep the sounds locked in, his eyes squeezed shut.
“You know what,” said Kibum, getting to his feet. “Maybe you need something to occupy your mouth.” Since you can’t seem to shut the fuck up.
Eunhyuk’s eyes flew open in surprise. “Kibum?” he asked uncertainly.
Kibum smiled at him, all white teeth and predatory gleam in his eyes. “Here’s a hint,” he purred, as he pulled down his zipper. He hadn’t bothered with underwear that day and Eunhyuk’s eyes widened even more as Kibum took his own cock into his hands, giving it a careless, loose stroke. He gave Eunhyuk an expectant look.
The older man sunk to his knees. “Okay,” he said doubtfully. He took a deep breath. “Okay.” Lifting trembling hands, he placed them lightly, unsure, on Kibum’s hips. He leaned forward slowly and licked a small circle around the head of Kibum’s cock.
Kibum let out his breath between his teeth.
Encouraged, Eunhyuk moved closer and explored more with his lips and his tongue and, very, very gently, his teeth. Kibum resisted the urge to thrust forward into that wet heat and fuck Eunhyuk’s mouth, but his hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists with the effort of holding back.
In the end, after Kibum came Eunhyuk choked a little, then choked a little more when Kibum pulled him up to kiss him, come and all, Eunhyuk left for Sukira. Kibum didn’t mention the flecks of dried come in his hair, positive the camera wouldn’t catch it and that Leeteuk would.
Kibum grinned and licked the taste of himself off his lips.
--
Leeteuk was easy. Too, too easy. He came to talk to Kibum about his new thing of sleeping with all the members, but he ended up in Kibum’s bed, and the words he was saying sounded less like, “I don’t think you should be doing this” and more like “please, please, please, harder, Kibum—”
Kibum laughed softly and blew lightly on the back of his neck, stirring the fine hairs there. “Anything for leader-sshi.” He canted his hips and drew back slowly, maddeningly, then thrust forward. He rocked his hips in a steady rhythm as Leeteuk whimpered under him, fingers curling into the sheets as his back arched.
He was prettiest this way, Kibum thought. Prettier than when he tried too hard to be cute, or manly, or anything but himself. Leeteuk had been made to be fucked, just like this, long and hard so he trembled and cried and left marks he would avoid looking at the next day.
The next day, they continued the filming for the U MV, and Kibum couldn’t resist teasing Leeteuk a little, pinning him to the wall and whispering dirty things into his ear. Leeteuk’s hands had settled on his hips, wanting but hesitant, and then a camera had turned on them and suddenly it was all just fanservice. Leeteuk’s touches were jokes, now, and Kibum laughed and walked away with his arm slung over Leeteuk’s shoulders. When the cameras were gone, however, Kibum leaned in to trace his tongue over the shell of Leeteuk’s ear.
Leeteuk shuddered and Kibum smiled at him, eyes speaking volumes, darker than usual and rimmed with eyeliner.
“Tonight, you can tell me what to do,” he promised.
--
Siwon was probably the hardest out of all the members since he was, as Heechul termed it so gracefully, a “good little Christian boy”. Then again, Kibum reasoned, so was he. And what was a little mutual pleasure between good little Christian boys, right?
Siwon took a little more convincing, but it was easier to do when he was drunk. Siwon apparently had fewer reservations about drinking than he did about gay sex, though Kibum supposed that might have been because Siwon hadn’t known his punch had been thoroughly spiked. Sungmin was thoughtful that way. Kibum made a mental note to thank him later.
“I think I’m drunk,” Siwon said after his fifth cup of very alcoholic fruit punch. “I don’t think fruit punch is supposed to do that.”
”Probably not,” Kibum agreed, busy helping Siwon with the buttons of his shirt. “I’ll have to ask Sungmin what he put in it.” And that handily absolved Kibum of blame for getting Siwon drunk and horny – well. Kibum smirked at the sizeable erection tenting Siwon’s otherwise neatly creased dress pants. Kibum might have had something to do with the horny part. Being regaled with Kibum’s various sex escapades while they drank had made Siwon a little…uncomfortable, in more than one sense of the word.
“Like I said,” Kibum murmured, undoing the last button on Siwon’s shirt and sliding it off his, mm, very nice shoulders, “Yoobin-noona gives excellent blowjobs, but if we’re talking handjobs, no one can beat Jaejoong-hyung. It’s probably all the practice he gets with his band. At least, that’s Changmin’s theory.” As he talked, he wrapped his hands over Siwon’s shoulders and dug into the tense muscle there with his thumbs. “It’s okay, hyung,” he said gently, “relax.”
“I-I don’t know if I can,” Siwon mumbled, shifting his position on the floor. Kibum watched his pants pull tight over his erection and licked his lips.
“Just relax,” he said soothingly. “I’ll make you feel good, okay?”
Very, very good, as he worked out the tenseness in Siwon’s neck and shoulders, then dropped his hands into Siwon’s lap to give him altogether happier ending.
Siwon, it turned out, fucked extremely well for a good little Christian boy.
--
Kibum had always been close friends with Ryeowook, so it wasn’t strange for them to just hang out without really doing anything exciting, or talking a lot. Ryeowook was trying to compose music, picking out notes and chords on his keyboard, while Kibum lounged on the bed, flipping through a magazine.
Sleeping with Ryeowook was different from sleeping with everyone else. It was less hurried, for one, not as frantic and desperate as it had been for everyone who had come before. Kibum found that he enjoyed persuading Ryeowook to leave the keyboard and join him on the bed. He enjoyed cuddling and lazily, slowly, stroking Ryeowook to arousal and desire. He felt no rush at all, only pleasure in seeing Ryeowook’s eyes glaze over as he bared himself to Kibum, emotionally and physically.
Sleeping with Ryeowook was almost not about the sex, except of course it still was. It was different, though, because Kibum was gentler than he’d ever been before. There was something about the way Ryeowook trusted him, different from the way everyone else trusted him, or knew him, or didn’t know him. Ryeowook wasn’t just a stranger, he was a friend, and he wasn’t just a friend, but one of Kibum’s closest.
Maybe Kibum was going slow because he didn’t want to ruin one of his best friendships. He kissed Ryeowook softly, one finger probing lightly. Then again, maybe he was just going slow because Ryeowook was such a blessed virgin.
Whatever it was, Kibum liked that it was different. It didn’t mean he loved Ryeowook better or more than he loved the other members, but it at least reflected that their relationship was different. There was something soothing about the soft music Ryeowook had left playing in the background as he’d moved to the bed, still playing as he now moved under Kibum, flushed and panting. There was something warm about going slow and doing everything just right and even in holding Ryeowook afterwards.
Kibum didn’t think he was much of a traditionalist in terms of relationships, probably a given considering his current sexual repertoire, but he didn’t mind being just a little bit traditional for Ryeowook. Who could, surprisingly, do some extraordinary things with his tongue.
--
When it came down to it, Donghae was Kibum’s favorite. Then again, Donghae was everyone’s favorite, so it was no surprise. Kibum had a soft spot for him that rivaled Heechul’s soft spot for him, though Kibum’s was a much better kept secret because he didn’t go running off at the mouth the way Heechul did.
Donghae made Kibum smile, made him laugh, and made him so hot that he sometimes wanted to fuck the career and pull Donghae over to him in the middle of a performance and kiss the holy hell out of him. As of yet, Kibum had managed to resist, but Donghae didn’t make it easy. In fact, if he weren’t Donghae, and so cheerfully oblivious, Kibum would think he was doing it on purpose, all that clinging and hugging and hip-thrusting and smiling and soft, low, bedroom voice.
It wasn’t until Donghae cornered Kibum at his flat that Kibum realized that Donghae had been doing it on purpose. For a very specific purpose.
“Kibummie,” he complained, looking incredibly put out. “I’ve been keeping track and you’ve slept with every single member except me. I didn’t think you’d crack Ryeowook, he’s so virginal, but you did, and now you’ve slept with everyone except me.” His expression was unhappy and accusatory.
Kibum blinked at him in surprise. “I was…going to get to you, hyung,” he replied mildly. Eventually. Hopefully repeatedly and in many different ways, because Kibum had a very active imagination and his morning showers for the past week had been particularly interesting.
Donghae’s lower lip slid out. “I’m tired of waiting.” His eyes flashed and then suddenly his expression was entirely different, no longer pouting and childish but something much more adult, dark and subtle and promising.
Kibum’s eyes widened slightly. Donghae gave him a very small, very wicked grin, before pulling his t-shirt off and padding towards Kibum’s bedroom. His belt was off and on the floor before he turned to glance at Kibum over his shoulder. “Aren’t you coming?” he asked suggestively. He pushed his jeans off his hips and stepped out of them, his black boxer-briefs clinging to him like second skin.
Kibum swallowed hard. How had he underestimated this one?
“I hope you’re not busy,” Donghae added cheerfully as Kibum followed him to the bedroom. He sprawled onto Kibum’s queen-sized bed and ran a hand over his bare torso, catching his fingers in the silver cross he wore around his neck. “I plan on making you make up to me all the time you spent sleeping with the other members and not with me. That’s at least eleven orgasms you owe me.”
Kibum wasn’t quite listening because Donghae’s fingers, still tangled in the necklace, skated dangerously close to a nipple. The cross caught the light and flashed and Kibum groaned.
“Oh my God, hyung,” he muttered, eyes locked to the piece of jewelry. “Take off the fucking briefs already and I’ll fuck you into tomorrow. Just…keep that on.”
Donghae chortled. “I knew it,” he announced, as he pulled Kibum onto the bed with him, hooking a leg over Kibum’s. “You totally have a religious kink. Heechul-hyung owes me money.” Kibum groaned again and buried his face in Donghae’s neck, attaching his mouth to skin and sucking. Donghae squirmed under him and hmm-ed happily.
“And don’t think you’re the only one doing the fucking,” he purred, radiating satisfaction as he slid possessive hands over Kibum’s back.
--
“You’re such a fucking slut,” Heechul declared. “How on earth do people think you’re a ‘good little Christian boy’?”
“You just don’t understand, hyung,” Kibum said, looking up from his book. He moved a little to the side on his bed so Heechul could flop down and give him a skeptical look, his head resting on Kibum’s lap.
“Enlighten me, Snow White.”
“I bring people to God through sex,” Kibum told him, straight-faced.
Heechul stared at him. “Oh my fucking god,” he gasped in disbelief. “You have got to be kidding me. Kim Kibum, you are fucking priceless.” He started to laugh, a little hysterical, breathless.
Kibum regarded him for a moment, blasé. “So have you found God yet, or should I fuck you again?”
Heechul repeated, “Fucking priceless.” Then he smirked and arched, moving his arm to cup the back of Kibum’s neck and tug him down. “Try again, Kibummie. I think if you fuck me hard enough, you’ll be able fuck some religion into me.”
--
Some days, Kibum blamed Park Soomin for turning him into a sex maniac. But those days were rare. Most of the time, he thanked God for her, for helping him realize his calling as a sex god. Generally, the world thanked her too.
--
Started: 2008.08.20
Finished: 2008.08.21
Notes: LOLOL yes the description of Donghae (i.e., what he's wearing) is totally stolen from Chris's EunHae fic. It's smoking hot, okay? Also, shut up, I'm sorry my biases are obvious like an obvious thing. :(
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