Chanmin’s night of stress relief

The heavy, soundproofed doors of the studio clicked shut, sealing Chan and Seungmin into their own private world. The hum of the air conditioning was the only sound in the room until Chan let out a low, gravelly sigh, leaning back against the leather sofa. He looked exhausted, the stress of a long comeback preparation etched into the lines of his face, but his eyes—dark and predatory—were fixed entirely on Seungmin.

Seungmin stood by the desk, his oversized hoodie swallowing his frame, making him look even smaller than he already was compared to the leader. He knew that look. It was the look Chan gave him when he needed to let go, when the pressure of being the perfect leader became too much and he needed to ground himself in the heat of Seungmin’s body.

"Come here, Minnie," Chan commanded, his voice a low vibration that seemed to rattle Seungmin’s bones.

Seungmin obeyed instantly. He crossed the room, his heart hammering against his ribs. As he stood between Chan’s spread knees, the sheer size difference between them was jarring. Chan was a wall of solid muscle, his shoulders broad and intimidating, while Seungmin felt like a delicate doll in his presence.

Chan didn’t wait. He reached out, his large hands gripping Seungmin’s hips and pulling him flush against him. He buried his face in Seungmin’s stomach, inhaling deeply. "You smell like home," Chan mumbled against the fabric of the hoodie.

"You look like you need a distraction," Seungmin whispered, his fingers dipping into Chan’s blonde curls.

Chan pulled back, a smirk playing on his lips. "I need more than a distraction. I need to ruin you."

With practiced ease, Chan stripped Seungmin down. When the hoodie and sweats pooled at Seungmin’s ankles, the contrast between them became even more stark. Seungmin was pale and lithe, his most prominent feature being the round, soft curve of his bubble butt. Chan’s eyes darkened as they traveled down to Seungmin’s groin.

Seungmin’s member was small and soft, tucked away beneath a thick layer of foreskin. Chan had always been obsessed with it. He reached out, his large thumb tracing the sensitive skin of the hood, pulling it back slightly to reveal the pink head before letting it snap back into place.

"So small," Chan growled, his voice thick with desire. "I love how this feels under my hands. So soft, so protected."

Seungmin whimpered, his knees shaking. "Hyung, please..."

Chan stood up, dwarfing Seungmin completely. He kicked off his own clothes, revealing his massive frame and the heavy, thick length of his cock that was already straining toward the ceiling. It was intimidating—a thick pillar of heat that Seungmin knew would stretch him to his absolute limits.

Chan grabbed a bottle of water from the side table, unscrewing the cap and drinking half of it in one go. He looked at Seungmin, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I’ve been holding it in all through the choreography session, Minnie. You know what that means."

Seungmin’s breath hitched. His own bladder felt heavy, a dull ache that he had been nurturing just for this moment. "I’m full too, Chan. I’ve been waiting for you."

Chan chuckled, a deep, dark sound. He pushed Seungmin back onto the edge of the sofa, lifting his legs and draping them over his broad shoulders. From this angle, Seungmin’s asshole was on full display. To a stranger, it looked tight—a small, puckered rosebud nestled between his plush cheeks. But Chan knew better. He knew exactly how much that entrance had been used, how it had been trained to take every inch of him.

Chan didn't bother with much foreplay. He spat into his palm, lubricating his thick head, and aligned himself with the opening. He pushed in slowly, watching as the skin stretched and yielded. Because of their frequent sessions, Seungmin’s muscles didn’t fight him; they welcomed him, sliding open like a well-worn glove.

"There it is," Chan groaned, his eyes closing as he felt the velvety warmth of Seungmin’s interior swallow him. "You’re so loose for me, Minnie. Just how I like you."

Seungmin let out a high-pitched moan, his head tossing back against the cushions. "It feels... so big... always so big..."

Chan began to move, his thrusts heavy and deliberate. Every time he bottomed out, his pubic bone slammed against Seungmin’s, sending jolts of electricity through the younger boy’s body. Chan’s hands were everywhere—pinching Seungmin’s nipples, slapping against his thighs, and eventually finding their way back to Seungmin’s small, uncircumcised dick.

Chan began to play with the foreskin as he fucked him, rolling the skin back and forth over the glans, his thumb dragging over the sensitive frenulum. The combination of the internal stretching and the focused external stimulation was too much.

"Chan! Chan, I'm—I'm gonna—" Seungmin gasped, his eyes beginning to roll back.

"Not yet," Chan grunted, his pace becoming frantic. "Hold it. I want to feel it while I’m deep inside you."

Chan shifted his weight, pinning Seungmin down more firmly. He leaned over, his chest pressing against Seungmin’s, and began to whisper filthy things into his ear—how much he loved the way Seungmin’s body felt, how he wanted to fill him up until he couldn't take anymore.

The friction was building to an unbearable peak. Chan could feel the pressure in his own bladder reaching a breaking point, mirrored by the tension in Seungmin’s body.

"Now, Minnie," Chan hissed. "Give it to me."

As Chan delivered a series of devastatingly deep, rapid-fire thrusts, the dam finally broke. Seungmin let out a shattered cry, his body bucking as he released. A hot, steady stream of golden liquid sprayed across his own stomach and Chan’s gripping hands.

The sensation of the warmth spreading between them acted as a catalyst for Chan. He let out a primal roar, his own release following suit. He didn't pull out. Instead, he buried himself as deep as possible, his massive cock pulsing as he came, and simultaneously, he let go of his bladder.

Seungmin’s eyes went completely crossed, his tongue lolling out of the corner of his mouth as a thick string of drool escaped. The feeling of being filled with Chan’s seed and the scalding heat of his piss at the same time was overwhelming. His brain short-circuited. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe; he could only feel the sheer volume of Chan’s love pouring into him, stretching his insides to the point of beautiful agony.

Chan stayed buried inside him long after the streams had stopped, his heavy chest heaving as he stared down at the wreck he had made of his boyfriend. Seungmin looked beautiful—covered in a mix of sweat, spent fluids, and urine, his face a mask of pure, mindless bliss.

"Look at you," Chan whispered, his voice full of pride as he reached down to stroke the damp foreskin of Seungmin’s limp member. "My good boy. You took it all."

Seungmin couldn't find his voice. He could only blink up at Chan, his vision slowly coming back into focus, a soft, dazed smile spreading across his face. He felt heavy, full, and utterly claimed.

Chan leaned down, kissing Seungmin’s forehead before moving to lick a stray tear from his cheek. "Let's get you cleaned up," he said softly, though he made no move to pull away. He liked the weight of himself inside Seungmin too much to leave just yet.

Seungmin reached up, his fingers trembling as he traced the line of Chan’s jaw. "Again?" he rasped, the word barely a breath.

Chan laughed, a genuine, warm sound that filled the small studio. "In a minute, Minnie. Let me catch my breath first. I’ve got plenty more where that came from."

He settled his weight more comfortably over Seungmin, the size difference making Seungmin feel small and shielded from the rest of the world. Here, in the dark of the studio, there were no idols, no leaders, no expectations. There was only the heat, the mess, and the absolute devotion they held for one another.

Chan leaned down, capturing Seungmin’s lips in a deep, slow kiss that tasted of salt and obsession. He knew he was lucky. He had the world at his feet, but all he ever really wanted was right here—this small, perfect boy who let Chan ruin him over and over again.

"I love you," Chan whispered against his lips.

"I know," Seungmin replied, his voice returning with a hint of his usual cheekiness, despite his disheveled state. "Now get back to work, Hyung. You’re not done with me yet."

Chan grinned, his eyes flashing with renewed hunger. He gripped Seungmin’s hips, the friction of their wet bodies making a squelching sound that echoed in the quiet room. "You’re right. I’m nowhere near done."