The Spiritual Dawn
Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con
Category: M/M
Fandom: Stray Kids (Band)
Relationships: Seo Changbin/Other(s), Seo Changbin & Other(s)
Characters: Seo Changbin, Han Jisung | Han, Bang Chan (Stray Kids), Hwang Hyunjin, Stray Kids Ensemble, Stray Kids Manager(s)
Additional Tags: Bottom Seo Changbin, Canon Compliant, Hurt No Comfort, Gang Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rape Aftermath, Physical Abuse, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Condoms, Barebacking, Creampie, Crying, Taking Turns, Large Cock, Degradation, Small Penis, Seo Changbin Has a Small Dick
over the stupid orgy's reeking track
— brighter and lovelier yet, thine image flies
in fluttering rays before my widening eyes.

"I'll be star lost, star lost..."
Changbin was coated in a thin layer of sweat that chilled on his skin in the night air. He pointed at someone in the crowd and did a cute little shuffle while he belted his lines. The other members pranced around him on the extended stage, each of them singing and adlibbing in turn.
The music eventually faded to a looping instrumental. "Thank you San Francisco!" Jisung shouted into his mic. Their fans cheered weakly in response, clearly coming down from the hours-long adrenaline-fueled high that the show had induced in them.
The members began walking back to the main stage and posed for the camera one by one before disappearing behind the screen display. Changbin lingered, trying to squeeze in just a few more endearing gestures to fans as he went. By the time he made it to the front the others were long gone, so he threw the camera a perfunctory peace sign and jogged backstage. He thought he could see someone beckoning to him from a dimly lit corner and hurried over to join the man, a dancer, who started leading him down a dark corridor.
"What's up?" Changbin asked. They turned a corner and were fully out of view of the crowd now. The area they were walking into seemed to be devoid of staff. "Did everyone leave without us?"
"No, we're here." A voice came from his right. Changbin peered into the darkness and thought he could make out several figures shifting around him - more dancers, or maybe staff? Before he could ask any more questions however, someone materialized behind him and grabbed him by the wrists. He shouted in surprise as his arms were pulled roughly over his head, but he wasn't panicking just yet. This had to be a prank, right? Changbin let out an aggravated sigh.
"Who set you guys up for this? Are the members hiding here too? This isn't the time for-" His rant was cut short when he felt something grip his ankle. He tried to jerk away reflexively, but whatever it was held him firmly in place. He looked down and saw the indistinct silhouette of a man kneeling at his feet. A clammy hand slid up the leg of his trousers, while another drifted across his thighs before landing on his groin and squeezing hard. His blood ran ice cold. Was this really happening?
Changbin opened his mouth to scream, but before he could he was blinded by a bright white flash and heard the characteristic -snap- of a phone camera. Someone just took a picture of him? He hadn't seen their face, but he did hear the echo of their footsteps as they walked away. The man behind him with the iron grip on his wrists yanked him back and whispered in his ear, "Scream or tell anyone what happened here, and we'll leak everything. Just imagine, photo evidence of Seo Changbin being molested by his own backup dancers circulating online? Nobody would look at you or your group the same way again."
His thoughts raced. His pride was steely enough that he wouldn't be deterred by blackmail under different circumstances, but he just couldn't process this situation. Here they were at the height of their career, halfway through their most consequential tour to date, and this would be what ended it all? He glared straight ahead and clenched his teeth.
"What do you want from me?"
"You'll figure it out." More men gathered around now, and more ghoulish hands crept across his body. They tugged at the straps of his overalls and hauled him deeper into the darkness. A door creaked open and he was maneuvered inside what appeared to be a disused storage room. Nobody moved to turn a light on, but someone had a phone flashlight in hand as he was guided to lay prone across a bench where some dusty electrical equipment was stored. They held him down and bound his forearms together with rope, or maybe wire? He couldn't tell. He couldn't turn his head, couldn't see anything but the pile of junk next to him whenever the light fell that way momentarily. All he could do was listen to the men rummaging around behind him. His legs shook uncontrollably.
Changbin bent his knees and heaved himself forward, trying to stand, but was caught off guard when someone gripped the back of his shirt and pulled him upright. He was dragged a few feet away from the bench to make enough space for someone to stand in front of him. Whoever it was placed a hand on his chest and pressed their blunt nails into him.
"We'll keep this nice outfit of yours in one piece so you can help us keep this a secret, okay? Like you promised?" The man moved towards the metal clasps of his overalls, but Changbin couldn't take it any more. He lurched violently to one side, trying to flee, trying to be anywhere else but close to this criminal, but it was no use. What seemed like hundreds of anonymous hands hooked into him all at once. Someone aimed a blow at his abdomen and knocked the air out of him. His overalls were stripped off and he was once again thrown face down across the bench. The tears came now, a pitiful, nearly inaudible gasp escaping from his lips as he wept. Fingers skittered across his backside like venomous insects, probing, prodding, pulling his boxers down to his ankles. His eyes clenched shut and the faces of the members appeared before him, although their expressions were unreadable. He didn't want to imagine them. Would their eyes be full of rage or despair? Would their cheeks be streaked with tears? What would the knowledge of this do to them?
Something cold suddenly dripped onto his sacrum and brought him back to his present nightmare. His attackers must have noticed him jump at the sensation.
"Don't worry princess. We'll be gentle." One pair of hands gripped his ass and spread him apart, while another circled his rim with slick fingers wrapped in a condom. His entrance was teased for mere seconds before two gloved digits were plunged inside. Changbin tensed and exhaled sharply. A generous application of lube ensured that it wasn't excruciatingly painful, but he processed every touch as a hot metal iron branding him nonetheless. The man seemed to wait for his breathing to resume before pushing in any further. Upon bottoming out he teased his fingers apart and then flexed them incisively. Changbin hissed and jerked forward, but of course he went nowhere. He saw more brief flashes of light as the operator of the phone aimed it wherever he was told to.
"They don't make you wax down here, huh?" the man holding him open remarked. "You should have bleached it for us." Quiet, cruel laughter erupted around him. The hand that had been violating him was withdrawn abruptly, and then returned moments later, this time inserting three fingers coated with more lube. They thrust in, once, twice... Changbin wasn't counting. He closed his eyes again and tried to think about anything other than the hands on him and inside of him, but they were all he could picture now. His body was being molded into something unfamiliar to him, something inhuman. He was becoming little more than a hole that accepted everything against his will. He groaned, more in reaction to this thought than to the pressure on his insides, or to the sloppy wet noises that were now filling the otherwise silent room.
The hand was withdrawn once again, and Changbin could hear the crinkling and tearing of condom packaging and jangling of belt buckles being undone. His fear dropped like a lead weight from his head to the pit of his stomach. His breathing grew rapid and shallow. Dust from the table stirred and filled his lungs, sending him into a coughing fit.
"Calm down man." Someone slapped him on the back a few times as if that would help. They didn't even wait for the coughing to subside. Something much larger than a finger pressed against his rim and pushed inside, meeting little resistance as it cleaved him open. Changbin thought he had finally let himself scream, but maybe he was just imagining things since it garnered no response. The man on top of him panted like a dog with each loveless thrust. He squeezed Changbin's hips, breathing out half-formed remarks about how soft and pretty his ass was. Changbin heard nothing. His consciousness was only sucked from the void it had escaped to when he felt a presence below him, followed by a new sickening sensation against his skin. Someone was kneeling on the floor next to him and running the tips of their fingers down his inner thigh.
"His ass is nice but he's not winning any awards with this." A rough hand gripped Changbin's dick and more laughter followed, this time with some cooing mixed in. Heat pooled in his stomach as he was jerked off, but his body couldn't react with any eagerness. He remained soft even as the man lapped at him with his tongue in an effort to coax an erection from him.
He heard a moan as whoever was currently buried inside of him shuddered and spilled into the condom, and then pulled away. He was quickly replaced by yet another faceless demon who stretched him open and used him. One after another they came and went, rending his flesh, sating their hunger with his body. A stream of drool poured from the corner of his mouth and pooled on the creaking bench beneath him. After what felt like hours had passed, a debate suddenly broke out among the group when someone tried to move in to stake their claim.
"No man, nobody wants to fuck your cum."
"Let me go last then." Whoever it was making his case, his voice was deep and abrasive.
"Fine, just clean it out afterwards so he doesn't make a mess in his pants."
With that Changbin grasped the situation and didn't want to accept it. He spat out a weak "No..." and their attention snapped back to him. One of them reached over to thread their fingers through his hair and pulled him up to study his face more closely.
"Are you still there? I thought you'd passed out with how quiet you were being." His eyes were nearly swollen shut from all the crying and irritants, but Changbin gave everything he had to glare back.
"Go die, bastard." A grin tore across the man's face as he dropped Changbin's head back onto the bench.
"We actually need to wrap things up here soon, so go right ahead," a voice said. This announcement was followed by the sound of shuffling feet, clothes rustling, evidence being packed away. Changbin felt the shadow of a tall man cast over him. Wide, cold palms gripped the meat of his ass and set to work spreading him open again.
Now that nobody else was nearby to pin him down if he tried anything, Changbin attempted to flip onto his side, thinking that if he could just manage to extend his legs he could push his attacker away. Like all of his previous attempts to fight back however, this one was also foiled immediately. The man grabbed his leg at once and twisted it, throwing him off balance.
"What do you want, hm? Wanna do it face to face?" All of a sudden Changbin was pulled up into a tight embrace, and then flipped onto his back. The bench shook with the force of him landing on it and his arms were crushed under his own weight. He lifted his legs and tried to aim a kick at the man's head, but the rest of the group had noticed the commotion by now and rushed over to assist. Hands gripped his bare legs and folded his knees to his chest so his ass was accessible again. Changbin finally noticed the overwhelming size of the man in front of him and blood-curdling hysteria set in.
"No! No! No!" He was certainly screaming now. Someone forced a sweat-stained towel between his teeth to silence him. He kept shrieking through the fabric, a guttural, bestial noise that he hadn't known he was capable of making. The enormous man emptied the remainder of a bottle of lube onto his palm and gave himself a few languid strokes before aiming the head of his cock at Changbin's well-worn rim. There was a pause as he let the tip sink in at an agonizingly slow rate, snagging and tugging the flesh as it went. The stretch was unreal, unlike anything he had experienced up to this point. Short bursts of pain stabbed him with every inch, followed by a dull, pulsing ache as he clenched around the massive intrusion.
Changbin tried to turn his head away but the man gripped his jaw and held his gaze steady for a moment. He imagined that he must be looking into the eyes of Satan himself right now. Who else would be capable of inflicting such agony on someone and feel no penitence in the end? He couldn't locate any shame in those glassy eyes, just a profound darkness. He felt he would only survive this ordeal if he could manage to fall away from that darkness rather than into it.
His jaw was freed and he was allowed to look away at last. He went completely limp, the sea of hands bearing down on him giving way to a single pair which held his legs up and apart by the knees. Slow, shallow thrusts became deep and erratic. Their slick skin produced an obscene soundtrack as it crashed together.
Changbin stared up at the ceiling blankly. He noted that it was dotted with something, perhaps water spots or mold. For some reason that was incomprehensible to him, Star Lost began playing back in his mind.
Darkness is settling in day by day
Inside of me, I've lost my greed
The feeling of being left alone swallows me up
He couldn't remember who wrote those lyrics. Was it Bang Chan? Did he write them himself? Whoever it was, what had inspired them to write something so desolate? His recall was poor even on good days, so there was no hope for him remembering now.
I imagine you in the night sky
You comforting me somewhere
As he studied the spots on the ceiling they almost seemed to glow, like they were becoming the very stars that this song prayed to for salvation. He hardly noticed as the body lurching over him grew still and let out a harsh exhale. His organs crackled like a lit flame.
"Hurry up. We need to get him dressed and out of here." The thing inside of him was withdrawn unceremoniously. His gaping hole was now exposed to frigid air and it dripped a messy concoction of excess lube and cum onto the floor. The tall devil returned some time later and inserted two fingers into him, scraping the contents out onto a towel with the same level of attention one might pay to brushing crumbs off of a table. When he was satisfied he'd disposed of enough evidence he set about reinstating Changbin's boxers and then tried to pull him to his feet, but with no strength left in his legs he promptly fell like a sack to the floor.
"Hey, what are you doing? Get up!" The man turned to his accomplices. "Help me out here. He's totally gone."
Changbin's brain was foggy but somehow he remained conscious of the hands that were holding him up and guiding his legs back into his trousers. They were meticulous with their tidying, even brushing the dust off of him and making sure the clip that had fallen out of his hair was put back in its proper place. The ropes were removed and someone examined the indents left in his skin.
"It's not that bad, it'll heal. Put that jacket on him." The garment was wrapped around him and his arms pulled through. Suddenly he felt like he was floating, the blood rushing to his head as he turned 90 degrees to one side. He thought that he must be falling to the floor, but in reality the group had just lifted him together to haul him to the door. That seemed to be the final nail in the coffin for him as he was plunged into total darkness before he ever saw the first light of freedom.
Changbin smelled something sour, felt a cold, hard surface against his cheek. His eyes shot open and his muscles propelled him forward uncommanded. With little awareness of where he was he wound up smashing his left elbow into the wall of the tiny single-use men's restroom he was currently occupying. He cried out and gripped his elbow gingerly. Next the pain in his abdomen and backside began to re-register and washed over him like a tidal wave. He doubled over his knees and a few heavy teardrops dripped from his eyes.
He wasn't thinking about it, wasn't flashing back to anything in particular, even though he could sense the memories looming in the back of his mind. He stood up from the toilet and was greeted by a tall mirror hanging over a sink. Meeting his own eyes, he felt that he didn't fully recognize the man looking back at him. He was pale and disheveled, although his captors clearly took care to avoid spoiling his face, and put everything on his person back more or less where they initially found it. Everything but the clear, carefree look in his eyes he was sure had been there before, that is...
He splashed some water on his face but avoided scrubbing at it, hoping that his budge-proof makeup would hold up, even though it was already noticeably more scuffed on one side. The sound of his sniffling and breathing bounced off of the tile flooring and walls. He patted his face dry gently with some napkins, pulled the hood of the jacket over his head and made a beeline for the door. How long had he been missing? Where was he? Walking out he found himself in a featureless but vaguely familiar hallway. Looking around, it dawned on him that he was actually very close to the area where they stored their belongings and got dressed. He stumbled down the hall towards the room where he thought his bag was and threw the door open, only to be greeted by a single manager sitting in a folding chair on her phone. She looked up at him obtusely as if she'd seen a ghost, but leapt to her feet when she realized who he was.
"Changbin! Where on earth have you been!? We've been running around like crazy trying to find you!"
Words failed him for a moment. "Uh... sorry. How long were you waiting?"
"Over half an hour. You realize we have a strict contract, right? We need to be out of here by-" Whatever she said next didn't matter to him. He grabbed his duffle bag from the floor and hobbled behind a curtain to put his own clothes back on.
He sized up his bare torso in a mirror, timidly brushing his fingers over the bruise that was darkening on his ribs where they had pummeled him. His arms were covered in shallow, inflamed friction burns. As he pulled one of his own hoodies over his head he looked down at the nondescript black jacket that the dancers had thrown on him. Without thinking he shoved it into his bag and then placed the rest of his encore uniform into a case left for him on the dressing room table. When he returned to the main room he handed the case to the manager and escaped before she could say another word.
"Where were you?" Bang Chan's tone scalded him. The members were huddled together in a private parking lot where a van was waiting to take them back to their hotel. Changbin ran into them immediately as he left the stadium. Chan looked him up and down and seemed to catch on at once that something wasn't quite right with him.
"What's wrong? Have you been crying?" Changbin was surprised by how astute his friend was. It was probably hard to see his face through the darkness with only a few lights from the building illuminating it. He couldn't meet Chan's eyes at all and simply shook his head.
"Sorry hyung. I was in the bathroom. My stomach... I don't know, it started acting up all of a sudden."
"Changbin hyung?" Hyunjin's voice was inquisitive. The members were all staring at him now, but he wasn't sure what they expected him to say. From what he could tell they didn't suspect anything more serious than either an upset stomach or him fleeing to shed a few overemotional tears after a concert though. Changbin's brain was running on autopilot as he formed his next excuse.
"Do my eyes look that bad? My contacts were bothering me the whole show, that must be it."
A manager interrupted them by calling out from across the parking lot. He gestured as politely as he could for them to come get in the damn van already. Changbin wanted to feel grateful to him for taking the pressure off, but as they all turned and rushed away part of him wished that his members wouldn't look away from him so easily, wouldn't let him out of their sight for even a moment. He trailed after them on stiff legs. Bang Chan as usual loitered behind the group and Changbin could feel the weight of his leader's gaze.
When he reached the van he slid into the back seat next to Jisung, who seemed half asleep already. Changbin watched him slump against the window, bundled up in an oversized jacket with the hood up and hands buried in his pockets. He looked infinitesimally small and fragile like this, like a child even. Changbin's mind threatened him with dark thoughts. What if they had grabbed Jisung instead of him? What if they've already hurt the members before, and threatened them into keeping it a secret just like him?
"Changbin!" He jumped when Bang Chan called out from the seat in front of Jisung. "Do you need stomach medicine? I'll ask a manager to pick some up and bring it to your room later."
"Oh, uh... sure. Thanks hyung." The longer this farce carried on the worse he felt about it. He hated lying and hiding things from them. He absentmindedly studied the tips of his own fingers, then turned to look out of the tinted window next to him. He saw the faint specter of his face reflected there and stared into his own eyes. He felt his tear ducts starting to sting and willed them not to overflow, but they weren't cooperating with him tonight. He didn't move or make a sound though, just watched silently as the tears streamed down his face, one after the other.
Bang Chan had been glancing back at him periodically, and of course took no time to notice that he was crying. The worry on his face intensified and he reached out to Changbin, offering an open palm and waiting for him to reciprocate. Changbin, trembling, took his hand and squeezed it wordlessly. He had nothing to say and Chan seemed to sense that asking questions would only hurt him more right now. Their hands were both cold, but as they sat there entwined they grew warm together.
Changbin knew now that hands not too dissimilar from these could be savage, hateful, even destroy him if they wanted to. But they could also be gentle and comfort him as they were now. A thought suddenly came to him.
"Hyung." Changbin said. Chan responded with a quiet, "Hm?"
"Did you write the opening lines of Star Lost?" He wasn't entirely sure why he wanted to know, but he felt like it would nag at him if he couldn't figure it out.
"Eh..." Chan sucked in some air and knit his eyebrows together as he thought. "I don't think so? Didn't you write them?"
Ah.
"I see."
Notes
This started out as a short description of the painting I did for Chk Chk Bang. As you can see it ran away from me at some point. This is the first fic I've written in nearly 15 years... please clap.
The exact setting is May 28, 2025 at dominATE San Francisco. This was a somewhat arbitrary pick since it could have taken place at any show, I just wanted to draw him being molested in those overalls with his adorable wavy hair.
Regarding the lyrics of Star Lost, as with most of their songs it doesn't seem to be public knowledge who wrote which lines, but I personally tend to associate lyrics about lonliness with Changbin. Whether or not Chan even correctly identified who wrote them is intentionally left vague.
The title and stanza in the summary are from L'Aube spirituelle by Charles Baudelaire, which I understand to be about waking up at dawn after a night of debasement and striving to return to a world of clarity and higher ideals after such an experience.