Entrapment
For meitachi on her birthday. And by "on her birthday," I mean "approximately nine months late." I, however, prefer to think of it as three months early. :D
In any event, it's Kihae with strip clubs and law school and...to tell you the truth, I don't even know what's going on here. I started this almost a year ago, so it's hugely schizophrenic. Some parts are heavy-handed smut, some parts are beyond-ridiculous crack, there is no transition between them and it's basically just a big hot mess. Consider yourself warned.
And now, to Mei. ILU MEI! :D HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I promise that your next birthday fic will be on time only, like, six months late! (I mean, let's be reasonable here.) Have fun in China! Bring me back some SJM! MWAH! ♥
Title: Entrapment
Pairing: Kibum/Donghae
Rating: NC-17
Length: ~3550 words
Warnings: AU. Explicit sex, both hetero and homo. Adult language. Egregious misunderstanding of how strip clubs and law schools actually work. Pandering to my own Kibum-fucks-lots-of-women fetish. Blatant cameo appearance of the person this fic is dedicated to.
Kibum has been fucking strippers since he was fifteen.
The first time was the night of his middle school graduation. His uncle had taken him to the The Wildflower as a joke, probably expecting him to blush and try not to stare, sweaty hands clenched awkwardly around the fistful of wrinkled 1,000 won notes his uncle had handed him with an exaggerated wink when they'd entered. Instead, Kibum had carefully counted the money, briskly smoothing and straightening the bills into a stack in his hand. Then, after a moment of consideration, he had gone to talk to one of the strippers, a woman who looked to be in her late twenties, standing bored and nearly naked in a darkened corner to the side of the main stage. The shocked look on his uncle's face as the woman led him into the back room was priceless; the absolutely stricken one he was wearing when Kibum emerged an hour later was even better. In response to his uncle's frantic questioning, he had simply smiled and responded that he had enjoyed his private dance, leaving out how the woman's tits had bounced with each thrust of his hips, how her pussy had spasmed around his cock when she came, how she had moaned deep and broken as he splattered cum across her stomach. His uncle had ushered him hurriedly out, and he'd dropped the scrap of paper with her number on it into the waste basket beside the door.
The sex was good, but that isn't why Kibum keeps fucking strippers after that, not exactly. There's just something special about the taste of their skin, stained deep bronze from the stares of other men and polished smooth from the rubbing of countless bank notes, something intoxicating about their moans of "fuck me" under signs reading "No Sex in the Champagne Room." He likes that it's easy when it should be hard, that when his friends try it they got slapped and kicked out, that he can break the hearts of people who aren't supposed to have hearts to break. It's like a sport, and he has excelled in it all throughout high school and college. Kibum sees no reason to give it up just because he's gotten into law school.
***
On the night after his first day of law school orientation, Kibum finds Yesung, his sunbae from high school and now a 2L, and asks him to take him out to a strip club. He and Yesung hadn't been close in high school-they'd mostly just seen each other at parties, and to be honest Kibum isn't sure he's ever talked to the man sober before this-but Yesung had had the reputation of being a hard partier and an all-around sick freak, and Kibum figures this makes him the man to talk to about finding a new place to play. The look of perverted glee that spreads across Yesung's face when he asks makes him sure of it.
It is only when the older man pulls his little sports coupe into the parking lot of a place called The Adonis that Kibum remembers the other thing he'd had a reputation for in high school: being a fucking fairy.
"We're here," Yesung says, looking all too amused with himself, and Kibum raises one skeptical eyebrow in response. "Oh, for fuck's sake, c'mon," Yesung says, opening the car door. "Just give it a try-you might surprise yourself." Kibum raises the other eyebrow. "And if you really hate it that much, I'll take you to a titty bar later." Kibum smirks, opens his own door and follows Yesung inside.
It's not that he has anything against guys. He'd let a dude suck him off once in high school (the skinny kid with glasses from his algebra class-let it never be said that Kim Kibum doesn't do good deeds) and it had been fine, but it wasn't really his thing. After a half an hour in the club, Kibum thinks that that's not likely to change any time soon. He sits at a small two-top next to Yesung, idly sipping a rum and Coke and alternating his gaze back and forth between the platinum blond on stage, stripped down and oiled up and gyrating in a way that can't be good for his hips, and his table partner's enraptured face. He's just about to tell Yesung that it's time for titties (and, more to the point, titty fucking) when the man raises his hand and yells out excitedly, "Ryeowook, baby!"
Kibum turns around to see one of the waiters, a slender boy with delicate features, blush, wave and look hurriedly back down at the old man whose order he's taking.
"Listen, Kibum, I've gotta go fuck the shit out of that kid right now, so hang tight for about an hour, ok?" Yesung grins, pats him on the shoulder and is gone before he can protest.
Kibum sighs.
The performer on stage now is dressed up as a police officer, and he's doing some decidedly naughty things with his nightstick. Kibum settles back into his chair and digs into his pocket for his pack of smokes. This is going to be a long hour.
"Need a light?"
He looks up to see a waiter standing next to him, hands behind his back, eyes on the stage. The man is wearing the same uniform as the others-tight-fitting black pants, a black bow tie, and nothing else-but he manages to look less ridiculous in it than the rest. Kibum thinks it's the easy confidence of his posture that does it, and the hint of a wry, self-aware smile he can see in profile. He's got the spark that Kibum looks for in the strippers he fucks-it's more satisfying to turn someone into a shuddering, whimpering mess if they're not already one to begin with-and he finds his interest piqued despite himself. After a moment's hesitation, he holds out his cigarette wordlessly.
The man looks down, gives him a hint of a smile, and then to Kibum's surprise trails his hand slowly down over his flat stomach and beneath his waistband. Kibum eyebrows shoot up as the man gropes around the front of his pants, and he only barely keeps himself from laughing out loud when the man's hand emerges holding a matchbook. The waiter lights his cigarette with twinkling eyes and a flourish of his wrist, and Kibum takes a deep drag.
"That work on most of the guys you get coming in here?" he asks.
The waiter laughs softly. "Only the easy ones."
Kibum exhales wisps of smoke and taps his cigarette against the edge of the ashtray. "And the others?"
"The others?" the waiter says, lips quirking slightly in amusement. "They're straight like you, so it takes a little more effort." This time Kibum can't help but laugh, and the waiter smiles and gestures towards the chair opposite him. "May I?"
Kibum knows the man wouldn't ask to sit down unless he thought he'd get something from it, and yet he's already pegged Kibum as straight. He bares his teeth in a brilliant white smile at the challenge implied and nudges the chair towards the waiter with his foot. "What's your name?"
"I'm Donghae," the man says, sitting down and reaching out his hand with an easy smile.
"Kibum," Kibum says. Donghae's grip is firm and lasts just an instant too long. Kibum takes another drag on his cigarette as he looks the man over. His frame is lean and well-muscled-the body of a man who loves sports, Kibum thinks-but it's the expression on his face that catches Kibum's attention. There's artistry without artifice, confidence without cockiness, openness without naivete. It's the face of a man who knows his game and is thoroughly comfortable with his role in it.
Kibum decides to fuck him-he wants to see this face cry.
"You going to seduce me, Donghae?"
Donghae licks his lips, and reaches out to run the back of his fingers softly over Kibum's forearm. "Only if you pay extra," he says, then slips the cigarette from Kibum's hand and stubs it out in the ashtray. "I don't like smokers."
Kibum smirks. "And I don't like fucking guys."
Donghae raises his eyebrows and smirks right back. "Who ever said anything about fucking?" he asks. "I keep my lap dances purely professional, Kibum."
"Hmm," Kibum says, bringing a new cigarette to his lips and fishing around for his lighter. "I'm not sure you're my type. What else you got?"
"Well, we could just talk," Donghae says, smiling broadly and lighting another match for him. Kibum leans forward to accept the proffered light. "Of course, you'd still have to pay me for a lap dance, but I saw your friend go to the back with Ryeowook. Trust me, they'll be a while, and you're going to want someone to talk to while you're waiting."
"Listen, Donghae," Kibum says, and blows out the match, "no offense, but I don't make it a habit to pay strippers for conversation. They usually don't have much interesting to say besides how good I was."
Donghae throws back his head and laughs. "Anyone ever tell you you're an asshole?" he asks, and Kibum shrugs, because of course they have. That's usually before he fucks them, though. "Let me guess-you're a business student."
"Law," Kibum says, and Donghae laughs even harder than before. Kibum's not sure why this in particular is so funny, but he appreciates getting a longer look at the line of Donghae's jaw, the smooth skin of his neck, the whiteness of his teeth.
"I'm in school, too," Donghae says once he's gotten his laughter under control. "What do you think I'm studying?"
Kibum shrugs his shoulders. "Kinesiology?" Most of the female strippers he's fucked have been studying cosmetology, but Donghae strikes him as the kind of guy who'd make a good high school soccer coach.
"Hmm," Donghae says, eyes alight with mirth. "I think I'm taking conversation off the table. Now do you want that lap dance or not?"
Kibum shrugs again. "Well, I guess it's better than waiting alone. I don't think I want to pay for it, though."
"Oh, you don't?" Donghae says, eyebrows raised.
"No. But I don't think you're going to make me pay for it." Kibum flashes his teeth in a brilliant grin.
"I'm not?" Donghae says, now chuckling.
"No, you're not."
"Well, if you're so sure about it..."
Donghae stands, takes Kibum's hand in his own and leads him towards the back.
***
The lights in the small private room are low, and the music playing is more mellow than the frenetic beats of the main stage, though no less obscene for it. The furniture is sparse-there is only a full-length mirror covering the wall opposite the door and a table and chair set up against the wall to the right. Kibum pulls out the chair, places it in the center of the room facing the mirror and sits down, legs spread wide. "Take off your pants," he says, pitching his voice low and calm and leaving no room for discussion. He likes to take control from the very beginning-fewer misunderstandings that way.
Donghae stands in front of him, back to the mirror, and begins undoing his fly, button by button. His hips gyrate softly, and Kibum watches as his pants edge slowly down over toned thighs and calves and come to pool at his feet. Donghae steps out of the pants and kicks his shoes to the side. Now he is left in only his bow tie a pair of tight-fitting black trunks. He begins to body roll, running a hand slowly down his chest with each wave and finally bringing it down to rub himself through his shorts. Kibum finds himself watching slightly too long as the man's cock hardens beneath his hand and begins straining against the fabric holding it in.
"Turn around," Kibum orders, and Donghae smiles with lidded eyes and does. His ass isn't as full as Kibum likes, but there's enough there to grab onto, and Kibum licks his lips in anticipation as he watches Donghae's hips sway. "Come over here," he says, and Donghae gyrates slowly back to him, until he's within touching distance. "Bend over," he says, and the man complies with a liquid dip. Kibum runs his hands over Donghae's ass cheeks, then yanks his underwear down in one swift movement and brings his hands back to Donghae's ass with a smack that echoes throughout the tiny room. He hears a sharp intake of breath in front of him and smiles.
"Yeah," he says, rubbing his hands over the man's ass and then squeezing to test his grip. "More," he says roughly, pushing down on the small of Donghae's back. Donghae bends lower, and Kibum runs his middle finger between the man's cheeks and begins rubbing at his opening. When Donghae's legs begin to shake, Kibum grabs his waist and pulls him down into his lap.
Donghae lands hard, taken off guard by the sudden movement. His face is flushed and his breath raspy. "Now grind on me," Kibum says, and Donghae nods shakily and begins moving his hips again. The rhythmic pressure against his cock brings Kibum to full hardness, and he resists the urge to begin grinding up against the man. Instead, he runs his hands over his body, pulling slightly too hard at his nipples, pushing slightly too tight against his throat, ghosting slightly too soft over his inner thighs. Donghae lets out little moans and his whole body shakes. Kibum smiles against the side of his neck.
"Now this is what we're going to do," he breathes against Donghae's earlobe, darting his tongue across it to elicit a shudder. "I'm going to bend you over that table over there and fuck you until your legs can't hold you anymore." Donghae throws his head back over Kibum's shoulder and gasps, and Kibum's cock jumps. "Then," he continues, "I'm going to flip you over, put your legs over my shoulders and keep fucking you. I'm going to fuck you so hard you can't speak. I'm going to fuck you so hard you can't breathe. I'm going to fuck you so hard you never want it to stop hurting."
Donghae is gasping and bucking in his lap, and Kibum is ready to fuck, ready to fulfill his promises and more-all he needs is to hear Donghae say the words, hear him beg. "Well?" he breathes against the man's neck.
"I..." Donghae pants. "I-"
And then there is a flurry of movement, and before Kibum knows it Donghae is flipped around and straddling him, arms around his neck, face centimeters away from his. "I think I have a better idea," he says, and begins grinding against Kibum again, now excruciatingly slow. "See, Kibum, I know what boys like you really want." Donghae's voice is calm, his breath is hot on Kibum's lips, and Kibum is too surprised to move or even think-this isn't supposed to happen. "You say you want to hold me down and fuck my brains out, that you want to be in control, but deep down you're hoping for something different."
Donghae reaches down, takes Kibum's hands and pulls them up behind his head, then begins to move his hips with fiendish deliberateness. Kibum can feel Donghae's cock rubbing semi-hard against his stomach, can feel his own cock throbbing against Donghae's ass, and he realizes to his horror that he's way more into this than the other man. He'd fallen for a show.
"What you really want is for me to hold you down. You want me to ride you hard, to ride you until you're speechless and breathless and can't even remember your name. Isn't that right?" Donghae punctuates his words with twists of his hips, and Kibum finds that he can't speak or breathe or...
Kibum. His name is Kibum.
"Well then," Donghae continues, catching and holding Kibum's eyes with his own. "Maybe that's what I'll do. Maybe I'll tie you to the table over there, strip you down and ride you, make you sweat and cry and come." Each roll of Donghae's hips brings him closer, and Kibum doesn't know how this happened, where it went wrong, why he's so turned on. "Then maybe I'll just leave you there," Donghae says, and Kibum whimpers. "Or maybe," Donghae nips at his bottom lip and smiles wickedly, "maybe I'll let you suck me off."
Kibum comes in his pants.
Donghae's hips come to a stop, and his lips come to Kibum's mouth and envelop him in a smooth velvet kiss as he shivers through his aftershocks. When Donghae breaks the kiss, he brings his mouth to Kibum's ear and whispers, "It's a good thing you came then, because I make it a rule not to do any penetrative sex during my lap dances. By the way, that'll be 50,000 won." Then he gets up, pats Kibum on the shoulder, and begins putting on his clothes.
It takes a few moments for Kibum to get any words out at all. "But I. I don't. Um. I don't have that much money on me."
Donghae raises his eyebrows, then lets out a not-unfriendly bark of laughter. "You really thought you were going to get away with it, didn't you?" he says, shaking his head in disbelief. "Huh. Well, I guess you can just pay me back tomorrow," he says, and walks out of the room.
Kibum sits in shock for what feels like a hour, then gets up, finds Yesung and gets the fuck out of the club.
***
Kibum doesn't sleep well that night, and he struggles to stay awake during his first class meetings the next day. He somehow manages to make it through the first two, but he falls asleep before the third one even begins, only to be elbowed awake by the cute Chinese girl sitting next to him.
"Arms," she whispers viciously, and he looks up, eyes bleary. "Yeah, you, Arms of Sex," she continues, lips pursed in irritation. "Syllabus," she says, and jabs a handout at him. He mumbles a thank you at her and she frowns. "I'm not going to wake you up if you fall asleep again," she says, and he decides to put her on his list of girls to have really athletic hate sex with.
Turning his attention to the front, he sees that the professor is just starting the class.
"I'm Yoo Jaesuk and this is Torts. If you're in the wrong place, get out." The professor waits a moment, and when no one leaves, he continues. "Good. I'd also like to introduce my Teaching Assistant. You all are lucky to have him-the top 3L student doesn't normally agree to help with 1L classes like this. He'll be holding office hours every week, so you can go to him with your stupid 1L questions when you get hopelessly lost. Donghae, stand up please."
Kibum's heart skips a beat, but he's sure it can't be him. It couldn't possibly. Why would the top 3L student work as a stripper on the-
Donghae winks at him.
Kibum has no problem staying awake for the rest of class; the adrenaline that comes from sheer panic is, he discovers, significantly more effective than his pre-class shots of espresso.
***
That afternoon, after standing at the door for five minutes, unable to move, Kibum finally brings himself to knock.
"Come in," comes the muffled voice from the other side, and he opens the door, slips in and quickly closes it behind him.
It takes a moment for Donghae to look up from his reading. "Ah," he says, smiling. "I thought I might see you today."
Kibum fidgets, opens his mouth, closes it, and wishes very fervently that he would be struck dead on the spot.
"Sit down," Donghae says, and he perches himself gingerly on the chair across the desk from Donghae. He tries to look anywhere but at the other man, but the office is small and cramped, and there really aren't that many other options.
Donghae sighs. "Ok, let's get this over with. Yes, that was me yesterday making a complete and utter ass of you, and yes, I do wait tables and strip on the side, because unlike you I don't have daddy to pay my tuition"-Kibum blushes furiously at this-"and no, I'm not going to treat you unfairly in this class just because you're a colossal douche."
"Um. Thanks," Kibum says, and finally ventures to meet Donghae's eyes. Donghae is smiling at him, and so he smiles back, and then they're both smiling, and Kibum can't believe it but he feels himself blushing again, this time for an entirely different reason.
"Right," Donghae says, clearing his throat. "So we're good." Kibum gets up to go, and he's about to grab the doorknob when Donghae speaks again. "We're good assuming you brought me my 50,000 won. You did bring me my money, didn't you?"
Kibum feels a chill run through him. "I, um, haven't been to the bank yet today..."
To his surprise, Donghae smiles. "I see. Well, there are other ways you can pay me back."
Strike that-Donghae smiles wickedly.
"Take off your pants."
In any event, it's Kihae with strip clubs and law school and...to tell you the truth, I don't even know what's going on here. I started this almost a year ago, so it's hugely schizophrenic. Some parts are heavy-handed smut, some parts are beyond-ridiculous crack, there is no transition between them and it's basically just a big hot mess. Consider yourself warned.
And now, to Mei. ILU MEI! :D HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I promise that your next birthday fic will be on time only, like, six months late! (I mean, let's be reasonable here.) Have fun in China! Bring me back some SJM! MWAH! ♥
Title: Entrapment
Pairing: Kibum/Donghae
Rating: NC-17
Length: ~3550 words
Warnings: AU. Explicit sex, both hetero and homo. Adult language. Egregious misunderstanding of how strip clubs and law schools actually work. Pandering to my own Kibum-fucks-lots-of-women fetish. Blatant cameo appearance of the person this fic is dedicated to.
Kibum has been fucking strippers since he was fifteen.
The first time was the night of his middle school graduation. His uncle had taken him to the The Wildflower as a joke, probably expecting him to blush and try not to stare, sweaty hands clenched awkwardly around the fistful of wrinkled 1,000 won notes his uncle had handed him with an exaggerated wink when they'd entered. Instead, Kibum had carefully counted the money, briskly smoothing and straightening the bills into a stack in his hand. Then, after a moment of consideration, he had gone to talk to one of the strippers, a woman who looked to be in her late twenties, standing bored and nearly naked in a darkened corner to the side of the main stage. The shocked look on his uncle's face as the woman led him into the back room was priceless; the absolutely stricken one he was wearing when Kibum emerged an hour later was even better. In response to his uncle's frantic questioning, he had simply smiled and responded that he had enjoyed his private dance, leaving out how the woman's tits had bounced with each thrust of his hips, how her pussy had spasmed around his cock when she came, how she had moaned deep and broken as he splattered cum across her stomach. His uncle had ushered him hurriedly out, and he'd dropped the scrap of paper with her number on it into the waste basket beside the door.
The sex was good, but that isn't why Kibum keeps fucking strippers after that, not exactly. There's just something special about the taste of their skin, stained deep bronze from the stares of other men and polished smooth from the rubbing of countless bank notes, something intoxicating about their moans of "fuck me" under signs reading "No Sex in the Champagne Room." He likes that it's easy when it should be hard, that when his friends try it they got slapped and kicked out, that he can break the hearts of people who aren't supposed to have hearts to break. It's like a sport, and he has excelled in it all throughout high school and college. Kibum sees no reason to give it up just because he's gotten into law school.
***
On the night after his first day of law school orientation, Kibum finds Yesung, his sunbae from high school and now a 2L, and asks him to take him out to a strip club. He and Yesung hadn't been close in high school-they'd mostly just seen each other at parties, and to be honest Kibum isn't sure he's ever talked to the man sober before this-but Yesung had had the reputation of being a hard partier and an all-around sick freak, and Kibum figures this makes him the man to talk to about finding a new place to play. The look of perverted glee that spreads across Yesung's face when he asks makes him sure of it.
It is only when the older man pulls his little sports coupe into the parking lot of a place called The Adonis that Kibum remembers the other thing he'd had a reputation for in high school: being a fucking fairy.
"We're here," Yesung says, looking all too amused with himself, and Kibum raises one skeptical eyebrow in response. "Oh, for fuck's sake, c'mon," Yesung says, opening the car door. "Just give it a try-you might surprise yourself." Kibum raises the other eyebrow. "And if you really hate it that much, I'll take you to a titty bar later." Kibum smirks, opens his own door and follows Yesung inside.
It's not that he has anything against guys. He'd let a dude suck him off once in high school (the skinny kid with glasses from his algebra class-let it never be said that Kim Kibum doesn't do good deeds) and it had been fine, but it wasn't really his thing. After a half an hour in the club, Kibum thinks that that's not likely to change any time soon. He sits at a small two-top next to Yesung, idly sipping a rum and Coke and alternating his gaze back and forth between the platinum blond on stage, stripped down and oiled up and gyrating in a way that can't be good for his hips, and his table partner's enraptured face. He's just about to tell Yesung that it's time for titties (and, more to the point, titty fucking) when the man raises his hand and yells out excitedly, "Ryeowook, baby!"
Kibum turns around to see one of the waiters, a slender boy with delicate features, blush, wave and look hurriedly back down at the old man whose order he's taking.
"Listen, Kibum, I've gotta go fuck the shit out of that kid right now, so hang tight for about an hour, ok?" Yesung grins, pats him on the shoulder and is gone before he can protest.
Kibum sighs.
The performer on stage now is dressed up as a police officer, and he's doing some decidedly naughty things with his nightstick. Kibum settles back into his chair and digs into his pocket for his pack of smokes. This is going to be a long hour.
"Need a light?"
He looks up to see a waiter standing next to him, hands behind his back, eyes on the stage. The man is wearing the same uniform as the others-tight-fitting black pants, a black bow tie, and nothing else-but he manages to look less ridiculous in it than the rest. Kibum thinks it's the easy confidence of his posture that does it, and the hint of a wry, self-aware smile he can see in profile. He's got the spark that Kibum looks for in the strippers he fucks-it's more satisfying to turn someone into a shuddering, whimpering mess if they're not already one to begin with-and he finds his interest piqued despite himself. After a moment's hesitation, he holds out his cigarette wordlessly.
The man looks down, gives him a hint of a smile, and then to Kibum's surprise trails his hand slowly down over his flat stomach and beneath his waistband. Kibum eyebrows shoot up as the man gropes around the front of his pants, and he only barely keeps himself from laughing out loud when the man's hand emerges holding a matchbook. The waiter lights his cigarette with twinkling eyes and a flourish of his wrist, and Kibum takes a deep drag.
"That work on most of the guys you get coming in here?" he asks.
The waiter laughs softly. "Only the easy ones."
Kibum exhales wisps of smoke and taps his cigarette against the edge of the ashtray. "And the others?"
"The others?" the waiter says, lips quirking slightly in amusement. "They're straight like you, so it takes a little more effort." This time Kibum can't help but laugh, and the waiter smiles and gestures towards the chair opposite him. "May I?"
Kibum knows the man wouldn't ask to sit down unless he thought he'd get something from it, and yet he's already pegged Kibum as straight. He bares his teeth in a brilliant white smile at the challenge implied and nudges the chair towards the waiter with his foot. "What's your name?"
"I'm Donghae," the man says, sitting down and reaching out his hand with an easy smile.
"Kibum," Kibum says. Donghae's grip is firm and lasts just an instant too long. Kibum takes another drag on his cigarette as he looks the man over. His frame is lean and well-muscled-the body of a man who loves sports, Kibum thinks-but it's the expression on his face that catches Kibum's attention. There's artistry without artifice, confidence without cockiness, openness without naivete. It's the face of a man who knows his game and is thoroughly comfortable with his role in it.
Kibum decides to fuck him-he wants to see this face cry.
"You going to seduce me, Donghae?"
Donghae licks his lips, and reaches out to run the back of his fingers softly over Kibum's forearm. "Only if you pay extra," he says, then slips the cigarette from Kibum's hand and stubs it out in the ashtray. "I don't like smokers."
Kibum smirks. "And I don't like fucking guys."
Donghae raises his eyebrows and smirks right back. "Who ever said anything about fucking?" he asks. "I keep my lap dances purely professional, Kibum."
"Hmm," Kibum says, bringing a new cigarette to his lips and fishing around for his lighter. "I'm not sure you're my type. What else you got?"
"Well, we could just talk," Donghae says, smiling broadly and lighting another match for him. Kibum leans forward to accept the proffered light. "Of course, you'd still have to pay me for a lap dance, but I saw your friend go to the back with Ryeowook. Trust me, they'll be a while, and you're going to want someone to talk to while you're waiting."
"Listen, Donghae," Kibum says, and blows out the match, "no offense, but I don't make it a habit to pay strippers for conversation. They usually don't have much interesting to say besides how good I was."
Donghae throws back his head and laughs. "Anyone ever tell you you're an asshole?" he asks, and Kibum shrugs, because of course they have. That's usually before he fucks them, though. "Let me guess-you're a business student."
"Law," Kibum says, and Donghae laughs even harder than before. Kibum's not sure why this in particular is so funny, but he appreciates getting a longer look at the line of Donghae's jaw, the smooth skin of his neck, the whiteness of his teeth.
"I'm in school, too," Donghae says once he's gotten his laughter under control. "What do you think I'm studying?"
Kibum shrugs his shoulders. "Kinesiology?" Most of the female strippers he's fucked have been studying cosmetology, but Donghae strikes him as the kind of guy who'd make a good high school soccer coach.
"Hmm," Donghae says, eyes alight with mirth. "I think I'm taking conversation off the table. Now do you want that lap dance or not?"
Kibum shrugs again. "Well, I guess it's better than waiting alone. I don't think I want to pay for it, though."
"Oh, you don't?" Donghae says, eyebrows raised.
"No. But I don't think you're going to make me pay for it." Kibum flashes his teeth in a brilliant grin.
"I'm not?" Donghae says, now chuckling.
"No, you're not."
"Well, if you're so sure about it..."
Donghae stands, takes Kibum's hand in his own and leads him towards the back.
***
The lights in the small private room are low, and the music playing is more mellow than the frenetic beats of the main stage, though no less obscene for it. The furniture is sparse-there is only a full-length mirror covering the wall opposite the door and a table and chair set up against the wall to the right. Kibum pulls out the chair, places it in the center of the room facing the mirror and sits down, legs spread wide. "Take off your pants," he says, pitching his voice low and calm and leaving no room for discussion. He likes to take control from the very beginning-fewer misunderstandings that way.
Donghae stands in front of him, back to the mirror, and begins undoing his fly, button by button. His hips gyrate softly, and Kibum watches as his pants edge slowly down over toned thighs and calves and come to pool at his feet. Donghae steps out of the pants and kicks his shoes to the side. Now he is left in only his bow tie a pair of tight-fitting black trunks. He begins to body roll, running a hand slowly down his chest with each wave and finally bringing it down to rub himself through his shorts. Kibum finds himself watching slightly too long as the man's cock hardens beneath his hand and begins straining against the fabric holding it in.
"Turn around," Kibum orders, and Donghae smiles with lidded eyes and does. His ass isn't as full as Kibum likes, but there's enough there to grab onto, and Kibum licks his lips in anticipation as he watches Donghae's hips sway. "Come over here," he says, and Donghae gyrates slowly back to him, until he's within touching distance. "Bend over," he says, and the man complies with a liquid dip. Kibum runs his hands over Donghae's ass cheeks, then yanks his underwear down in one swift movement and brings his hands back to Donghae's ass with a smack that echoes throughout the tiny room. He hears a sharp intake of breath in front of him and smiles.
"Yeah," he says, rubbing his hands over the man's ass and then squeezing to test his grip. "More," he says roughly, pushing down on the small of Donghae's back. Donghae bends lower, and Kibum runs his middle finger between the man's cheeks and begins rubbing at his opening. When Donghae's legs begin to shake, Kibum grabs his waist and pulls him down into his lap.
Donghae lands hard, taken off guard by the sudden movement. His face is flushed and his breath raspy. "Now grind on me," Kibum says, and Donghae nods shakily and begins moving his hips again. The rhythmic pressure against his cock brings Kibum to full hardness, and he resists the urge to begin grinding up against the man. Instead, he runs his hands over his body, pulling slightly too hard at his nipples, pushing slightly too tight against his throat, ghosting slightly too soft over his inner thighs. Donghae lets out little moans and his whole body shakes. Kibum smiles against the side of his neck.
"Now this is what we're going to do," he breathes against Donghae's earlobe, darting his tongue across it to elicit a shudder. "I'm going to bend you over that table over there and fuck you until your legs can't hold you anymore." Donghae throws his head back over Kibum's shoulder and gasps, and Kibum's cock jumps. "Then," he continues, "I'm going to flip you over, put your legs over my shoulders and keep fucking you. I'm going to fuck you so hard you can't speak. I'm going to fuck you so hard you can't breathe. I'm going to fuck you so hard you never want it to stop hurting."
Donghae is gasping and bucking in his lap, and Kibum is ready to fuck, ready to fulfill his promises and more-all he needs is to hear Donghae say the words, hear him beg. "Well?" he breathes against the man's neck.
"I..." Donghae pants. "I-"
And then there is a flurry of movement, and before Kibum knows it Donghae is flipped around and straddling him, arms around his neck, face centimeters away from his. "I think I have a better idea," he says, and begins grinding against Kibum again, now excruciatingly slow. "See, Kibum, I know what boys like you really want." Donghae's voice is calm, his breath is hot on Kibum's lips, and Kibum is too surprised to move or even think-this isn't supposed to happen. "You say you want to hold me down and fuck my brains out, that you want to be in control, but deep down you're hoping for something different."
Donghae reaches down, takes Kibum's hands and pulls them up behind his head, then begins to move his hips with fiendish deliberateness. Kibum can feel Donghae's cock rubbing semi-hard against his stomach, can feel his own cock throbbing against Donghae's ass, and he realizes to his horror that he's way more into this than the other man. He'd fallen for a show.
"What you really want is for me to hold you down. You want me to ride you hard, to ride you until you're speechless and breathless and can't even remember your name. Isn't that right?" Donghae punctuates his words with twists of his hips, and Kibum finds that he can't speak or breathe or...
Kibum. His name is Kibum.
"Well then," Donghae continues, catching and holding Kibum's eyes with his own. "Maybe that's what I'll do. Maybe I'll tie you to the table over there, strip you down and ride you, make you sweat and cry and come." Each roll of Donghae's hips brings him closer, and Kibum doesn't know how this happened, where it went wrong, why he's so turned on. "Then maybe I'll just leave you there," Donghae says, and Kibum whimpers. "Or maybe," Donghae nips at his bottom lip and smiles wickedly, "maybe I'll let you suck me off."
Kibum comes in his pants.
Donghae's hips come to a stop, and his lips come to Kibum's mouth and envelop him in a smooth velvet kiss as he shivers through his aftershocks. When Donghae breaks the kiss, he brings his mouth to Kibum's ear and whispers, "It's a good thing you came then, because I make it a rule not to do any penetrative sex during my lap dances. By the way, that'll be 50,000 won." Then he gets up, pats Kibum on the shoulder, and begins putting on his clothes.
It takes a few moments for Kibum to get any words out at all. "But I. I don't. Um. I don't have that much money on me."
Donghae raises his eyebrows, then lets out a not-unfriendly bark of laughter. "You really thought you were going to get away with it, didn't you?" he says, shaking his head in disbelief. "Huh. Well, I guess you can just pay me back tomorrow," he says, and walks out of the room.
Kibum sits in shock for what feels like a hour, then gets up, finds Yesung and gets the fuck out of the club.
***
Kibum doesn't sleep well that night, and he struggles to stay awake during his first class meetings the next day. He somehow manages to make it through the first two, but he falls asleep before the third one even begins, only to be elbowed awake by the cute Chinese girl sitting next to him.
"Arms," she whispers viciously, and he looks up, eyes bleary. "Yeah, you, Arms of Sex," she continues, lips pursed in irritation. "Syllabus," she says, and jabs a handout at him. He mumbles a thank you at her and she frowns. "I'm not going to wake you up if you fall asleep again," she says, and he decides to put her on his list of girls to have really athletic hate sex with.
Turning his attention to the front, he sees that the professor is just starting the class.
"I'm Yoo Jaesuk and this is Torts. If you're in the wrong place, get out." The professor waits a moment, and when no one leaves, he continues. "Good. I'd also like to introduce my Teaching Assistant. You all are lucky to have him-the top 3L student doesn't normally agree to help with 1L classes like this. He'll be holding office hours every week, so you can go to him with your stupid 1L questions when you get hopelessly lost. Donghae, stand up please."
Kibum's heart skips a beat, but he's sure it can't be him. It couldn't possibly. Why would the top 3L student work as a stripper on the-
Donghae winks at him.
Kibum has no problem staying awake for the rest of class; the adrenaline that comes from sheer panic is, he discovers, significantly more effective than his pre-class shots of espresso.
***
That afternoon, after standing at the door for five minutes, unable to move, Kibum finally brings himself to knock.
"Come in," comes the muffled voice from the other side, and he opens the door, slips in and quickly closes it behind him.
It takes a moment for Donghae to look up from his reading. "Ah," he says, smiling. "I thought I might see you today."
Kibum fidgets, opens his mouth, closes it, and wishes very fervently that he would be struck dead on the spot.
"Sit down," Donghae says, and he perches himself gingerly on the chair across the desk from Donghae. He tries to look anywhere but at the other man, but the office is small and cramped, and there really aren't that many other options.
Donghae sighs. "Ok, let's get this over with. Yes, that was me yesterday making a complete and utter ass of you, and yes, I do wait tables and strip on the side, because unlike you I don't have daddy to pay my tuition"-Kibum blushes furiously at this-"and no, I'm not going to treat you unfairly in this class just because you're a colossal douche."
"Um. Thanks," Kibum says, and finally ventures to meet Donghae's eyes. Donghae is smiling at him, and so he smiles back, and then they're both smiling, and Kibum can't believe it but he feels himself blushing again, this time for an entirely different reason.
"Right," Donghae says, clearing his throat. "So we're good." Kibum gets up to go, and he's about to grab the doorknob when Donghae speaks again. "We're good assuming you brought me my 50,000 won. You did bring me my money, didn't you?"
Kibum feels a chill run through him. "I, um, haven't been to the bank yet today..."
To his surprise, Donghae smiles. "I see. Well, there are other ways you can pay me back."
Strike that-Donghae smiles wickedly.
"Take off your pants."