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Steven didn’t usually take the members’ jokes seriously, but today he tucked them away in the back of his mind like precious gifts.
“Steven, just get him a watch,” Jeongwoo had said.
“Or, you know, handcuffs. He looks like the type,” JL snickered.
Shuaibo, ever the instigator, grinned wide: “Hyung, just put a bow on your dick. Fastest present you’ll ever prepare.”
Steven had only rolled his eyes at the time, but the spark was there. He was the oldest, the reliable one—so if anyone could pull off something ridiculous and turn it into something unforgettable, it was him.
Han hasn’t had a break in weeks. Schedules, rehearsals, always working… my birthday boy deserves something he’ll never forget.
That’s how he found himself in his room, setting up the scene. Candles lined the dresser, not lit yet—he’d save that for the moment. A blindfold sat neatly folded on the bed, right beside the ribbon he’d taken from a gift bag. And of course, he had his “main present” tucked away, waiting to be unwrapped by Han himself.
Steven tested the bow again, smirking to himself. Looks stupid. Perfect.
Just then, Han’s voice floated down the hall. “Steven-hyung?”
Steven’s grin widened. Showtime.
Han pushed the door open, half curious, half suspicious. “Steven-hyung, what are you—”
And then he froze.
Steven was leaning lazily against the frame, completely naked, candlelight flickering behind him, casting gold across his chest. A wide red bow sat tied low around his cock like the world’s most obscene present.
“…Hyung!” Han yelped, stumbling back a step, his ears flushing crimson. “What the hell are you doing—what if the others see—”
Steven only tilted his head, voice smooth and calm, like he hadn’t just staged a porno set in their dorm room.
“Relax. They’re not coming in. It’s your birthday, Han. I prepared a present.”
Han swallowed hard, his throat tight. I can’t believe he actually did this. I can’t believe—
Steven took a step closer, closing the gap, the faint heat of melted wax from the lit candles inside reaching Han’s skin. He bent slightly, lips brushing Han’s ear.
“Blow the candle out, birthday boy.”
Han’s breath hitched.
Before he could argue, Steven guided him inside, shutting the door with a soft click. He pushed Han gently onto the bed, ribbon bobbing as his cock twitched.
“Go on,” Steven murmured, sitting back on his heels, spreading his thighs wide so Han had the perfect view. “Make a wish.”
Han’s face burned, but his hands moved before his words did, sliding along Steven’s thighs, thumbs brushing up to the bow. God, he looks so stupid. Why does it turn me on this much?
He leaned in, lips wrapping around the flushed head of Steven’s cock, warm and wet. Steven groaned, his hand immediately threading into Han’s hair.
“Good boy,” he whispered, tightening his grip just enough to make Han shiver. “Suck it like you mean it. Louder. Let me hear you.”
Han moaned around him, cheeks hollowing, trying desperately not to let his voice carry past the walls.
Steven chuckled low. “You think they don’t know? They suggested this, Han. Let them hear how well you’re enjoying their idea.”
Han whimpered, hum vibrating against Steven’s cock, and the candles flickered brighter as if celebrating with them.
Han was still catching his breath when Steven suddenly pushed him down against the sheets.
“Hyung—wait—”
“Shh. I’m not done giving.” Steven’s tone was velvet, but his actions sharp—guiding Han’s wrists above his head, pinning them down easily with one hand. The other picked up a half-burned candle from the dresser, wax swaying dangerously close.
Han swallowed, throat dry. He’s really going to—
Steven smirked at his wide-eyed look. “Relax, birthday boy. You’ll like this.”
He lowered his mouth, kissing down Han’s chest, biting at his ribs until Han squirmed. With his free hand, he shifted Han’s wrists down, planting them firmly against Han’s own chest. Steven’s bigger hand held them there, his weight leaving no room for escape.
“Keep them still. Don’t move,” he whispered, lips brushing Han’s sternum. “Or I’ll drip more.”
The first drop of hot wax slid onto Han’s collarbone, sharp heat making him gasp loud.
“Steven-hyung!”
Steven hummed, satisfied, then trailed lower—stomach, pelvis—until he settled between Han’s thighs. His tongue dragged slowly over sensitive skin, teasing, before he pressed his mouth fully against Han’s hole.
Han’s legs jerked, arms instinctively trying to flail free—but Steven’s grip was iron. The heat of his tongue, the obscene wet sounds of him eating Han out, forced little broken noises past Han’s lips.
“Ah—nghh—” Han bit down on his lip, trying to muffle himself.
Steven pulled back just enough to scold, candle hovering above Han’s chest.
“Don’t hold back. It’s your birthday. I want everyone to know what I’m giving you.”
And then he went back in, deeper this time, tongue working him open. The slick heat, the rough scratch of Steven’s stubble, the dangerous glow of wax ready to drip again—it was too much.
Han moaned loud, back arching despite himself, wrists trembling under Steven’s palm.
Steven smiled against him. “Good boy. That’s better.”
Steven didn’t rush. He never did.
Not when he had Han trembling like this, wrists pinned helplessly against his chest, thighs spread wide under him. His tongue moved in deliberate circles, dipping in, dragging out, sucking around him until the younger’s body was slick with spit and sweat.
Han was already a mess, panting, head tilted back against the pillow. “H-hyung, please—”
Steven hummed into him, tongue thrusting deeper in answer, and Han’s hips bucked uncontrollably. The heat built fast, coil tightening low in his stomach. His toes curled, hands straining against Steven’s grip. I’m gonna come—fuck—
And then it stopped.
Steven pulled away, his mouth glistening, lips wet with Han’s taste. Han let out a strangled sound, desperate and frustrated, his cock twitching against his stomach.
“Steven!”
Steven only smirked, thumb swiping his chin clean. “Not yet, birthday boy. Don’t you want the real present?”
He leaned back, letting go of Han’s wrists, only to push his knees up instead. The shift left Han spread even wider, vulnerable under Steven’s gaze. Steven stroked himself slowly, bow slipping loose around his cock but still hanging there, as if to remind Han what this night was about.
“Look at you,” Steven murmured, lowering his voice to a tender hush even as he teased the head of his cock against Han’s entrance. “Shaking, begging, and I haven’t even given it to you yet. Such a good boy for me.”
The first push in was hot, tight, and unyielding—Han gasped, fingernails clawing into the sheets.
“Hyung—nghh—ah—”
Steven soothed him with a kiss against his knee while he pressed deeper, inch by inch, until he was fully seated inside. The stretch left Han trembling, eyes glassy.
“That’s it. Take me all in. My perfect birthday boy,” Steven whispered, and his hips rolled forward with a slow grind that made Han whimper brokenly.
The candle in Steven’s hand tilted, wax dripping suddenly onto Han’s chest again, hot sting making him jolt. His gasp broke into a moan, loud and shameless.
Steven chuckled darkly. “Good. Don’t hold back. I want to hear every sound you make.”
He started to thrust in earnest, pace steady but deep, every push rocking Han up the bed. With each snap of hips, Steven let another droplet of wax fall—on his chest, his stomach, once dangerously close to his nipple—balanced perfectly between pain and pleasure.
Han cried out, voice cracking, thighs trembling around Steven’s waist. Feels so good, so full—he’s everywhere—
“That’s it. Say it louder. Let me hear how much you love your gift.” Steven praised, breath ragged against Han’s ear as he leaned down, thrusts harder now, deeper.
Han’s voice broke into an almost scream, unable to hold it in anymore, the burn of wax, the stretch of Steven, the relentless praise combining until his whole body shuddered with need.
Steven groaned low, hips snapping faster, one hand gripping Han’s waist tight. “You’re perfect, Han. My perfect boy. Take it all—take me.”
And Han did, back arched, body giving in fully, each moan echoing against the candlelit walls like a prayer answered.
Steven had Han trembling beneath him, body stretched, wax streaked and bitten raw. Every thrust sent another desperate cry spilling from Han’s lips, the rhythm relentless, deep enough to make his stomach flutter and coil tight.
“Hyung—ahh—Steven-hyung—I can’t—” Han gasped, nails clawing helplessly at the sheets, thighs quivering around Steven’s waist. Too much, too good, I’m gonna—
Steven pressed his mouth to Han’s throat, sucking another bruise into his skin, his voice steady even as his thrusts grew harder.
“Yes you can. Come for me, birthday boy. Show me how perfect you are.”
The words broke him. Han’s back arched, a raw cry ripping out of him as his orgasm tore through his body, hot release painting his stomach and chest, mixing with the streaks of wax. His legs shook violently, every nerve lit up as Steven kept pounding into him, dragging out every aftershock until Han was nearly sobbing from the intensity.
Steven groaned low, pulling out just before the edge tipped too far. He gripped himself tight, stroking fast as he straddled Han’s body, the red bow hanging loose and ridiculous around his cock. His eyes never left Han’s face—flushed, messy, utterly ruined—as he came hard across Han’s chest and stomach, ropes of hot release marking over the wax and his own cum.
“Mine,” Steven muttered darkly, smearing it across Han’s chest with his hand, painting him in it, his breaths ragged. “All mine.”
Han blinked up at him through heavy lashes, chest heaving, body limp but glowing in the candlelight. He looks so proud of me… so happy…
Steven leaned down, kissing him slow, almost gentle now, his lips a sharp contrast to the roughness of his actions. He whispered against Han’s mouth, soft praise melting into every word:
“Good boy. My perfect birthday boy. You took me so well.”
And Han, marked and shaking, kissed him back, the taste of wax and sweat and heat lingering between them, his voice a hoarse whisper—
“Thank you, hyung.”