Word Count: 3,189
Summary: Hakyeon made a face in the mirror, using his pinky to wipe off some errant gloss, and then turned to flounce over to the couch, his small heels clicking against the linoleum floor.
A/N: This fic takes place the day of the WonderVIXX performance, wherein N has sex with Leo while in drag. Yeah. Because as it turns out, Leo rather likes N in skirts and stockings.
Sticking to my theme of using Britney lyrics for 90% of my pornfic titles don't judge me.
Hakyeon was bored. The stylist had finished with him fifteen minutes ago, and now there was nothing left to do but wait. It was amazing how much of their days were spent waiting. They woke up every morning, oftentimes before the sun was even properly out, and zombie walked to the music show of the day, and after being slathered in makeup and hair gel, they just sat around waiting for their rehearsal to start, then waited around some more for their proper stage. It was a lot of starting and stopping, twenty minutes of rushing frantically interposed with long hours of dullness.
At least he looked good, he reflected. They’d put him in a black tank top and tucked that into a slim black miniskirt, a leopard print blazer to give it an accent. They’d also given him some semi-sheer black nylons, and struggling into them had been a battle the likes of which Hakyeon hadn’t known possible. But they were quite nice, once on, making his legs look longer, slimmer, and they felt silky. The shoes were small, basic heels, and the wig they’d pinned to his hair wasn’t the best quality, but they’d styled it nicely, with a fringe across his forehead, the remaining loose curls pulled into two cute pigtails. The look was finished with eyeliner, glitter, gloss, and false eyelashes.
Wonshik was dozing in the chair next to Hakyeon, one of their stylists gluing false eyelashes to his eyelids. Hakyeon snorted. He could see they’d set aside a kitty ear headband for Wonshik. That would be something to see. Hongbin and Jaehwan were occupying the other chairs, at various stages of their transformations. Sanghyuk was still in his jeans and hoodie, asleep where he sat on the small fake leather couch. Someone, probably Jaehwan, had draped his stage outfit over his head. Taekwoon was beside him, quietly eating a bag of chips, his crutches leaned up against the wall.
Hakyeon got up, and he noted the way Taekwoon looked up as he did so, eyes flicking quickly up and down Hakyeon’s body. Taekwoon had been glancing at him all morning, ever since he’d pulled the outfit on. Hakyeon smiled at him in the mirror, turning to give him a twirl. When he stopped Taekwoon’s mouth had dropped open, just a little, and that just made Hakyeon smile wider. This was going to be easier than he’d thought.
Taekwoon seemed to realize he was staring, and he shifted uncomfortably, eyes going back down to his snack, a frown creasing his brow even as a slight blush spread across his cheeks. It wasn’t like Taekwoon to be self-conscious of his staring, and Taekwoon never blushed. If Hakyeon wasn’t careful he might start cackling.
Taekwoon hadn’t been pleased to have injured himself in the idol olympics, but he definitely hadn’t been complaining about getting to sit out on this particular performance. It had baffled Hakyeon, then, that Taekwoon still seemed to be looking forward to today, and had come along, when by all rights he could have used his injury as an excuse to sleep in today.
At first he’d thought maybe it was sentiment, or that Taekwoon just wanted to laugh at them, but then he’d seen Taekwoon’s face the previous day after Hakyeon had tried on today’s outfit, and everything had clicked.
Today was definitely going to be fun.
Hakyeon made a face in the mirror, using his pinky to wipe off some errant gloss, and then turned to flounce over to the couch, his small heels clicking against the linoleum floor. Without asking for permission he sat down, squeezing between Taekwoon and Sanghyuk. Taekwoon didn’t move, which meant that for Hakyeon to fit, Sanghyuk slid right off the edge of the couch. He squawked indignantly, flailing when his stage outfit got tangled around his head.
“Your turn,” Hakyeon said simply, reaching over to untangle a suspender from around Sanghyuk’s neck.
Sanghyuk grumbled something about having mean hyungs but he obediently went to sit in Hakyeon’s vacated chair.
Hakyeon leaned against Taekwoon’s side, his padded bra pressing into Taekwoon’s arm. “I’m bored,” he murmured, prodding Taekwoon with his fake boob. When that didn’t get a reaction he reached over and stole a chip from Taekwoon’s bag, munching noisily, and Taekwoon retaliated by elbowing his fake boob. “Ow.” He pulled back. “Careful with these, they’re sensitive.” They were also lopsided now, Hakyeon noted. He pulled at the straps of his bra a bit, trying to get them even again. He’d picked a cute pink one, but the quality was rather iffy, Hakyeon thought.
Taekwoon let a long breath out through his nose, not looking at him. “You could read.”
“I could,” Hakyeon conceded, “but that’s not very fun.” He blew into Taekwoon’s ear lightly, and Taekwoon jerked, turning to slit a glare at him, but the smile playing on Hakyeon’s face made him freeze. Taekwoon knew that look. His eyes flicked to the others, none of whom were paying attention, and then he shook his head, determinately staring down at his chip bag.
Hakyeon huffed. “Oh, come on,” he murmured, leaning back into Taekwoon’s side, arm curling around his. “Don’t I look pretty?” He shook his head a bit, the pigtails of his wig bouncing, brushing against Taekwoon’s shoulder.
“No,” Taekwoon mumbled. He was staring into his chip bag like he could convince it to swallow him.
Hakyeon mock pouted, blinking up at Taekwoon through his false lashes. “Really?” he asked, and when that garnered no response he leaned in to whisper in Taekwoon’s ear, “Because the way you’ve been eye fucking me all morning says otherwise.”
Taekwoon inhaled sharply, and the chip bag crumpled in his hands as they clenched. The noise roused Wonshik, who blinked his eyes open and then promptly made a face. “Augh, these feel awful,” he grumbled, blinking rapidly. Hakyeon pulled away from Taekwoon a bit when Wonshik focused on their reflection in the mirror. He leaned back against the sofa and Taekwoon visibly relaxed at the loss of contact. Too easy.
“Shush,” his stylist said, reaching out to hold Wonshik’s face still as she penciled in his eyebrows.
“You look so pretty though,” Hakyeon said, muffling a laugh. “But not as pretty as me, right Taekwoon?” Taekwoon’s nostrils actually flared, but he still wasn’t looking at Hakyeon, eyes boring into the back of Jaehwan’s wig-covered head.
“My tights are cuter than yours,” Wonshik said, sticking a leg out lazily. They were cute, mostly nude colored except for the black stars that dotted them here and there.
“Mine are fine,” Hakyeon sniffed, sticking his own legs out. “They feel soft.” Wonshik snorted, and then let his eyes drift shut again. Hakyeon waited a beat to make sure Wonshik wasn’t going to open his eyes again before fitting himself back against Taekwoon’s side. Taekwoon tensed right up again, turning his face away, and Hakyeon couldn’t help it, he laughed softly.
“Come on Taekwoon,” Hakyeon murmured. His lips brushed against the shell of Taekwoon’s ear. “We don’t have rehearsal for at least another hour. Don’t you want to fuck me in this skirt?” He brought his legs over so his stocking-clad thigh pressed against Taekwoon’s jeans, pulling his feet in so his legs tipped upwards and the skirt rode up, revealing more thigh.
Taekwoon was breathing heavily, but in typical Taekwoon fashion, his face was blank. He didn’t reply, simply sat there, hands still clenched around his chip bag.
“Please,” Hakyeon continued, “I want you to. I’ve been thinking about it since yesterday, since I caught you staring at me. Please.” He pried one of Taekwoon’s hands off the chip bag and brought it to rest just above his knee, pressing into the skin barely covered by sheer black nylon, and Taekwoon snapped.
Taekwoon stood quickly, positively shoving Hakyeon off him, so hard that Hakyeon yelped and fell over onto the couch. Wonshik and Jaehwan both jerked, one of their stylists swearing, and Hongbin laughed as Hakyeon spat fake hair out of his mouth. Taekwoon looked like he might throttle Hakyeon but instead he simply hobbled to his crutches, pulling them under his arms and making his way across the room and out of the door.
Hakyeon got up, pulling his skirt back into place as he did so. He didn’t need to flash anyone and he wasn’t wearing his safety shorts yet. They would just get in the way right now.
“Leave him alone,” Wonshik called but Hakyeon was already out of the door.
Taekwoon hadn’t even made it around the corner, and it took only a few seconds for Hakyeon to catch up, his heels still clicking obnoxiously. “You’re on crutches,” Hakyeon laughed, following Taekwoon around the corner, “you can’t run from--” He cut off as Taekwoon whirled on him, grabbing Hakyeon by the lapels of his blazer, his crutches clattering to the floor. He yanked Hakyeon around, slamming him into the nearest wall, and then he was pressing his body flush against Hakyeon’s. Hakyeon’s surprised gasp melted off into a moan as Taekwoon kissed him roughly, biting at Hakyeon’s lower lip.
Hakyeon arched into him, grinding their hips together as he parted his lips, letting Taekwoon flick his tongue into his mouth. Taekwoon growled, pressing into Hakyeon harder, pinning him to stop him squirming, and Hakyeon whimpered. “We need to get out of the hallway,” Hakyeon murmured, head tipping to the side to break the kiss. There was a door a few paces to his right, and he slid toward it, grasping at the handle even as Taekwoon bit at his ear. “Ah,” Hakyeon gasped, and he wondered if Taekwoon had felt his cock twitch. “Come on,” he whined, managing to fumble the door open.
Taekwoon flicked a glance at the door. “That’s EXO’s dressing room.”
“Well they aren’t here yet. This is what they get for being late,” he mumbled. He grasped Taekwoon’s wrists and helped him stumble into the room with him, his crutches left behind on the hallway of the floor. “Maybe we should get those--” Taekwoon slammed the door shut and locked it behind them, “--or not.”
Taekwoon was on him again in a heartbeat, leaning on him heavily, and Hakyeon stumbled backwards until he felt the backs off his knees meet the tiny fake leather couch in this room, the exact same model as the one that had been in their own room. Hakyeon might have flopped back on it but Taekwoon had his arms around him, and he was sucking on Hakyeon’s tongue so sweetly.
Taekwoon’s hands wandered down to Hakyeon’s ass and then a bit lower, fingertips catching on the edge of Hakyeon’s skirt and rucking it up. His nails dragged against the stockings, pressing into Hakyeon’s skin, and Hakyeon could tell he was fully hard even through the thick denim of his jeans. That had to be uncomfortable.
“If I’d known you would like this so much, I’d have put a skirt on for you sooner,” Hakyeon said breathlessly when Taekwoon pulled back, and Hakyeon got the satisfaction of seeing that Taekwoon was blushing prettily. Taekwoon set to putting all his concentration on getting Hakyeon’s nylons off. “They’re really tight-- don’t rip them--”
Taekwoon pulled at them roughly, yanking them down, and they dug cruelly into the soft skin of Hakyeon’s thighs as he pulled. Hakyeon gasped, clutching at Taekwoon’s shoulders for balance, but Taekwoon stopped pulling them down when he got them down around Hakyeon’s knees. He reached back up under Hakyeon’s skirt, intent on pulling Hakyeon’s underwear down as well, but his hands only met bare skin.
“You’re not wearing underwear,” Taekwoon said, barely above a whisper.
This time it was Hakyeon’s turn to blush. He licked his lips, tasting gloss and Taekwoon, and Taekwoon’s eyes tracked the movement. “I, uhm, shaved too,” he said tentatively, watching Taekwoon’s eyes flash, “you know, my legs, because I figure, go big or go home, right? I also--”
Taekwoon shoved him backwards onto the couch, and Hakyeon’s knees knocked together because of the way the nylons were holding his legs closed. His skirt flipped up, and though he blushed, he knew pulling it back down would be pointless. The couch was too small, and Hakyeon’s head was hanging off the end. Guess they’d see how well the stylists pinned his wig on.
Taekwoon used his good knee to kneel on the edge of the couch, one hand bracing himself on the back of the couch and the other running along Hakyeon’s smooth thigh.
“I was saying,” Hakyeon said, somewhat embarrassed now because Taekwoon was doing that thing, the thing were he stared so intently it made Hakyeon feel infinitely bare, raw, “that I, uhm, took the liberty of prepping myself this morning. To save you the trouble.”
Taekwoon’s hand paused on his thigh for a beat, then it was between Hakyeon’s legs, slipping down over his balls and his perineum to touch him where Hakyeon knew he was still slick and loose from earlier. “You planned this,” Taekwoon accused softly, eyes narrowing.
“Well, yeah,” Hakyeon replied. “I didn’t know how much time we’d have and--” Hakyeon cut off with a choked shout as Taekwoon relentlessly pressed two fingers inside of him. They went in easily. Hakyeon had gone a bit overboard with the lube on purpose, but he hadn’t been expecting that. Taekwoon withdrew them a little, and as he did so he scissored them, and Hakyeon whimpered, the sound high pitched. “Taekwoon,” he gasped, “I’m ready, I am, please, please.”
He gasped sharply as Taekwoon pulled his fingers out, and then Taekwoon was on his feet, pulling his sweater up to unbuckle his belt. Hakyeon wriggled, kicking his legs in an attempt to get the nylons off. He managed to shove them all the way down to his ankles before realizing he’d have to take his shoes off to get them off all the way, and he didn’t feel like tinkering with tiny buckles at the moment, so they’d just have to make do.
Taekwoon’s belt clattered as the buckle hit the hard floor, and he didn’t even bother taking his jeans off, simply shoved both them and his boxer briefs down enough to free his cock. Hakyeon swallowed hard. Taekwoon made to get back on the couch then paused, clearly unsure how to go about this with Hakyeon’s ankles essentially tied together. Hakyeon was about to offer flipping over, letting Taekwoon take him from behind, but then Taekwoon was shoving Hakyeon’s knees up to his chest. Taekwoon kneeled in the place Hakyeon’s legs had just vacated, his bad leg half hanging off the couch, and then he was grabbing Hakyeon’s ankles and pulling them up so they rose over his head, resting Hakyeon’s legs over each of his shoulders and oh, oh, this worked too, Hakyeon thought.
Taekwoon grabbed his own cock, positioning himself, but then he stopped, and Hakyeon rolled his eyes. “I’m fine,” he said. “Really.” Taekwoon scowled at him, and Hakyeon curled his legs, sitting up a bit with a grunt. The angle was awkward, but he spat into his hand and reached down to give Taekwoon’s cock a few pumps. Taekwoon gave him a glare and then shoved him back down. “Well, now you don’t have to be worried, you’re slick too,” Hakyeon said, laughing.
His laugh melted off into a garbled moan of Taekwoon’s name as Taekwoon pushed into him in one long thrust. Taekwoon gripped Hakyeon’s thighs, pressing them to his own chest, and apparently decided to take Hakyeon for his word, because he pulled out almost all the way before thrusting sharply back in, beginning a relentless rhythm. Hakyeon clutched at the faux leather of the couch, blunt nails digging in, trying to get some friction to hold on so Taekwoon wouldn’t fuck him right off the couch.
Hakyeon felt filthy with the both of them still mostly dressed, rutting in public like they were horny teens again. The way his skirt was flipped up, his cock completely uncovered, made him blush, like it was somehow too indecent. Taekwoon had his face pressed against Hakyeon’s smooth thigh, his lips parted as he panted, and he was staring down at Hakyeon intently. Hakyeon’s fingers dug into the couch harder as he met those dark eyes. “Touch me,” Hakyeon whispered, too needy to be a demand.
Taekwoon didn’t stop thrusting, his movements sharp and precise, even, but he did let go of one of Hakyeon’s thighs to wrap a hand around Hakyeon’s cock. He pressed his thumb into the slit and then dragged the precome there down as he pumped Hakyeon’s cock in time with his thrusts.
Not being in a position to grab onto Taekwoon and pull him closer, and having his legs essentially tied in place around Taekwoon’s back, was killing Hakyeon. He squirmed in Takewoon’s grip, trying to fuck back on his cock with more force. “Taekwoon,” Hakyeon gasped, “Taekwoon, oh God, please, harder, please please please.” Taekwoon’s hips snapped forward with such force it sent Hakyeon up a few inches on the couch, his head tipping back as it hung fully off the edge, his throat bared. “More,” was all he could get out before he was gasping so hard he was nearly sobbing.
Taekwoon bit into the soft skin of Hakyeon’s inner thigh, and Hakyeon shouted, back arching as he came. His shout melted off into a proper sob as Taekwoon continued to pump his cock, and he lifted his head to see Taekwoon nosing further down his thigh. He bit down again, harder this time, and when Hakyeon clenched down on him again his hips faltered as he came, hands holding Hakyeon’s hips steady.
Hakyeon was trembling, and Taekwoon was gasping softly, chest heaving. He pressed his mouth to the red indents his teeth had made in Hakyeon’s skin, the gesture so gentle it was almost painful in its own right. After that he let Hakyeon’s legs fall down around his waist, and he grabbed Hakyeon’s hips again, pulling him back from the edge a bit so Hakyeon didn’t have to strain so much to look at him.
Hakyeon loved the way Taekwoon looked after they’d had sex. It was similar to how he looked after a performance, flushed and sweaty and beautiful, but after they’d fucked his eyes were always softer, somehow. Hakyeon knew he must be a mess, and he wondered how he’d explain this to the stylists. As he looked down he realized he’d gotten come on his skirt and he sighed heavily.
Taekwoon shifting, leaning over Hakyeon so he could cup Hakyeon’s face. He carefully rearranged Hakyeon’s wig, pulling hair out of Hakyeon’s face meticulously. “Pretty,” he murmured, smiling softly, and Hakyeon’s heart skipped a beat.
In the end the stylist whacked him with a clothes hanger before giving him a black pair of shorts to wear instead of the skirt, and new footless tights, since Taekwoon had actually ripped the sheer nylons, but all in all, Hakyeon thought it was all worth it.
1. this is my first VIXX fic ever. I feel the shame.
2. if I wasn't clear enough in the fic, this was the position they were in (not a porn pic rofl).