Chapter Text
Wooyoung reclines in the plush pleather seats of his VIP section, delicately sipping a drink priced at 30,000 won, which he grimaces at, the beverage disappointing with its overwhelming resemblance to mere juice, hardly justifying the substantial charge on his tab.
He'll dispute it later.
The music's becoming all too loud, and Wooyoung groans at the headache he feels forming.
Where did San go? He left for what feels like an hour ago, claiming he had some important business to attend to and blah blah blah. But Wooyoung's growing bored, idly looking off into the crowd of men dancing, serving drinks, getting naked.
So far, since his boyfriend's been gone, three male strippers have offered him a lap dance, but, of course, he declines. They move on to the next client, and Wooyoung feels guilty watching, peeling his eyes away so as to not feel like he's cheating.
Could that be considered cheating?
Either way, Wooyoung averts his gaze once they start bursting out of their clothes, settling themselves nicely into the other's laps, grinding.
Not that Wooyoung would know though, he's definitely not watching from his peripheral view.
But then, and to his relief, while trying not to look, he notices a girl, super pretty, with long blonde-dyed hair, tattoo sleeves, and a bright, innocent smile. The glitter covering her body catches the lights like a disco ball, which really draws his attention. She follows her male friend to the dance floor, immediately hopping onto the platform above. A new song starts to play and they both jump in excitement. Before Wooyooung knows it, the girl turns around and plants her hands on the railing, which begins the incredible shaking of ass against her friend who's obviously not straight but takes it anyways, slapping her butt in rhythm to the music.
Hmm. Wooyoung thinks. It's not clumsy like most Korean girls when they do it, but it's technical, bouncing fluidly, actually moving.
He cocks his head to the side, considering. He can't remember the last time he paid attention to a girl's ass, and he's certainly not an expert on them, but there's something about her's that captures his interest and makes it difficult to divert his gaze. She has a knack for that, for twerking. And if Wooyoung's memory serves him correctly, he's willing to bet money on owning a pair of shorts just like hers.
The simple black shorts she wears are made of a smooth, almost slippery material that is both alluring and easily accessible. The high waistline shows off her curvy figure, leaving just enough of her round bottom exposed. Each time she twerks, the fabric of the shorts lift a little, bouncing in time with her movement. Those, along with her bent posture, shape her into a beautiful hourglass silhouette: a tiny waist complemented by a full, attention-grabbing rear end.
It's mesmerizing to him, the jiggle, the bounce, the recoil. He never thought he would find himself ogling a girl's behind like this, but he can't help it. It seems unreal, almost too perfect, too impossible.
So the fact he's certain he can do it too, is absurd.
┈─★
He's fueled by an overwhelming surge of ego that his ass, if he puts forth the effort, can move like that too.
So when they get home, he checks in his dresser, through neatly folded bottoms, and finds exactly those, the ones the girl wore, the silky black shorts.
The funny thing is, Wooyoung remembers that San bought them for him, when he saw them on a mannequin at the mall, a women's mannequin at that.
Despite Wooyoung's reluctance, he eventually gives in to San's begging and tries them on, which ensues their first semi-public fucking, an experience that Wooyoung has added to his list of things to do again.
Regardless, San loved this type of look on him — bold, obscene, and a little slutty. But he hates how he looks in them sometimes, the many different occasions where body dysmorphia takes over. Which is why those shorts were now buried under ones he actually feels comfortable wearing.
San obviously doesn't mind that Wooyoung isn't always in the mood to dress like that, but it doesn't stop him from buying things Wooyoung never imagined wearing. And when he wears them, it's like a vigorous game between them: San's eyes darken with desire and he can't help but compliment Wooyoung's body over and over again through the sound of skin against skin. Wearing it does make him feel powerful, reminding him that San thinks it's the sexiest thing in the world. And he knows he's won when he walks out the bathroom and San tips his head back, biting on the edge of his lip, motioning with two fingers for Wooyoung to come closer, then the rest of the night is basked in pure bliss.
From the start of their relationship, Wooyoung noticed San's fascination with his ass. He doesn't quite understand it since he considers it to be mostly flat unless he bends or positions himself in a way that makes it look bigger. Wooyoung liked to occasionally fixate on San's too, but if he does it for too long, he's losing more time to fixate on his chest or thighs or dick. But San treats his butt like it's gold, finding his way to it, whether it be his mouth or hands or cock. So anything revealing, especially shorts, does it for San each and every time. There's nothing wrong with them either: they're really soft, not too tight against his skin, accentuate his ass nicely, and not once has he not been fucked in them, which is why they stay hidden unless he's feeling up for a rough dick-down that day.
but Wooyoung can't lie that he doesn't do more than just wear them. He knows that wiggling his ass is another turn-on for the older, or when he grinds down in his lap or gyrates against his thigh. He's sure it looks clumsy though, probably barely moving, with minimal ass-throwing skills. But it's never made San feel any differently, clearly. So he knows that if he can get his ass to move the way that girl's was, San would probably have an aneurysm.
So he has to.
Besides, San's birthday is soon, and all he can come up with is another measly watch to add to San's umpteenth other ones. Oh, he'll be bewildered by this, and the sex afterward would be mind-blowing, to say the least.
He nods to himself that night before drifting asleep. He likes to think he could manage to figure it out on his own, but he knows he needs, help.
And a lot of it.
┈─★
The next day, and Wooyoung finds himself seated in the back of their company car, biting anxiously at his nails.
Eunjeong, one of the company drivers, enters the basement of a non-descript-looking building and pulls up to wooden double doors with a stoic-looking guard standing watch. Wooyoung nods at the guard, and pulls his mask up before getting out. “This shouldn't take long, maybe 30 minutes, Hyung,” he tells Eunjeong, who nods wordlessly. “See you then, thanks.”
Hunching his shoulders into his jacket, he bows politely to the security personnel who had been informed of his arrival. With practiced efficiency, he is swiftly escorted to a small, private room towards the back of the upscale bar he frequents. Yellow Fellow is a well-known secret among idols, a sanctuary where celebrities can convene in privacy, shielded from the prying eyes of paparazzi and sasaengs. It maintains a discreet allure, strictly adhering to being a safe place for those of who need it, without being downright illegal or dirty.
The number of times Wooyoung's relied on the establishment’s discretion couldn’t be counted on one hand. This time, though, it’s not really the person he’s meeting requiring all this discretion, but the subject of the conversation Wooyoung's hoping, and a little embarrassed, to have.
The woman, her back turned to him, prompts a moment of hesitation before he acts on the voice in his head urging him to proceed. He gingerly taps her on the shoulder.
"Noona,"
In a swift swirl of her head, Jessi turns in her seat. A playful grin dances on her lips, tempting Wooyoung to reciprocate.
"Wooyoung!" She exclaims, rising to envelop him in a hug, exuding the scent of lavender and a good time.
Before they sit, she gives him a very long once-over, peeking around him to presumably get a glimpse of his ass, and then giggles. But it's still less embarrassing than the exchange of messages Wooyoung sent earlier that morning and the replies Jessi gave back.
"Since I'm helping you," she starts, and Wooyoung's not trying, but her boobs sit so prettily in her tank that his eyes draw down, not for long though, and definitely not long enough for her to notice. "Can I put my drinks on your tab?" She asks.
Wooyoung shrugs nonchalantly, then nods. It's the least he can do, especially since this arrangement came together last minute, and Jessi has somewhere to be soon. But he pleaded, and she agreed, now they're here, staring at one another, and Wooyoung feels like fleeing, honestly.
He and Jessi unexpectedly bonded since their first scheduled event for Ateez's idol activities. Afterward, they found themselves talking for hours, and Wooyoung inexplicably found himself confiding everything in her — about his sexuality, about his not-so-secret relationship with San. She became like the older sister he never knew he needed, offering advice that sometimes pushed his comfort zone but also gave him newfound confidence.
She's the reason he became assured that he could ride San's dick when before it was intimating. Now, when he needs that extra oomph, she's the first to receive a call.
Which is why he thought of her first to help him in this endeavor. She has the roundest ass out of any other idol he thought about calling, and he knows for a fact she knows how to move it.
Now, he glances around awkwardly at the other idols in the room, hoping they won't eavesdrop and remain engrossed in their own secretive conversations or meetings with individuals they could never be seen dead with in public.
"...Is that Yeonjun in the corner with Yujin?" Wooyoung mutters to himself, momentarily distracted by the sight before refocusing on Jessi.
"So," she begins, taking a sip of her drink, obviously assessing him as she does. "You want to learn to twerk. I'm assuming it's for San?"
Wooyoung hums in response.
"And properly too, like not just some little shake of your ass?"
"There's more to it than that, I'm sure," Wooyoung says, his voice audible enough for only her to hear.
She scoffs. "There is," she replies, a crooked smile plastered on her puffy lips.
"When's San's birthday again?"
"In two weeks."
"Okay, so not much time left." Jessi contemplates, folding her arms. "Have you ever tried twerking before?"
Wooyoung rolls his eyes. "Obviously."
"Have you actually tried though?"
Wooyoung face falters. "No."
"Well, at least you're a dancer, that'll make things easier," Jessi nods. "You'll already have the muscles for it."
She leans back leisurely, using the straw to clink around the ice in her glass before pulling it out and pointing it toward him. "Okay, here's what I'm thinking. I'm no dancer, and there's no way I can keep up with you even if I tried. But, there is something I'm great at, and that's finding your cute little ass an actual instructor."
She picks up her phone, and types away on the bright screen, smiling when she finds what she's looking for. "I can't say for sure if she'll have time to schedule you in, but I can ask her. I can also get you going with some youtube videos, and maybe we can go clubbing later tonight so you can watch how others do it, preferably a man's ass and not a women's," she says, waving her finger. "I can ask her to give you lessons, but it might cost you."
"Lessons?" Wooyoung squints at her. "I just want a quick tutorial, that's it."
"Have you seen your ass? It's going to take a lot more than that." and Wooyoung's hisses while she laughs.
He only hates that she's not wrong.
"Fine," he admits in defeat. He pulls out his phone and goes straight to Kakaotalk.
"That's too personal," she says, shoving her phone at him. "DM her on Instagram instead, she'll see it." And he types the username on the app, pushing follow before typing out everything Jessi tells him to. "I'll text her today to tell her to message you back. If she's not available, then she might direct you to her personal choreographer, Chulmoo, he's really good at throwing ass," she smirks, then blinks with contemplation. "Actually," she rethinks it. "I know how San is, so maybe not that either. It's okay, she'll just have to be available."
Wooyung couldn't agree more. It's probably for the best that he avoids any guys in the process of this. He can't imagine San's face when he tells him he learned from a dude, that a guy got to stare at his jiggling ass properly before he did. It's definitely not worth the trouble.
"Thanks again, Noona," he says after pushing send. He's still a little flustered, but he's nonetheless appreciative. "I can't believe I asked you this, but I'm glad I did. I hope this helps."
"It will," she says with a knowing smile. She downs the rest of her drink before she stands up. "I thought I had more time, but I got to go. And I want updates, I know how nasty you can get."
And then she's off.
┈─★