Chapter Text
San’s first week was crammed with a disproportionate amount of homework for the time of year, dance practices, library shifts, induction meetings and a healthy amount of sexual frustration that goes by the name of Jung Wooyoung. It was San’s own damn fault, of course, because he had to have another stupid rule that bars him from having sex with the same person twice.
He had seen Wooyoung around the apartment building and to his relief, Wooyoung never tried to push a second “date” so to speak. In fact, he didn’t really change much from the first time they met. Whenever he shared an elevator with him or passed him in the hallways, Wooyoung stopped, asked him about his day, laughing with his own little anecdotes. And he had tons of them, so many that San had asked him to go grab dinner at a little Thai place around the corner so he could hear the rest of the fake blood and baking soda fiasco. Wooyoung was fun to be around. He’s like a warm ray of sunshine on a breezy day with no obligations whatsoever. So San, at first, was thrilled at the prospect of being friends with Wooyoung.
The problem was San couldn’t be in Wooyoung’s presence without the picture of him writhing in pleasure, moaning filthy nothings, practically begging for San to fuck him to completely overtake his mind.
Here’s the thing about Wooyoung; he was as attractive as a dream, gave a mind-blowing blow job and most importantly, San wanted to ruin him.
Behind closed doors, behind the charming smile and the sweetheart attitude, San could be a little mean. And by a little, he meant a lot. San loved seeing his partners vulnerable, stripped of their power, wholly at his mercy. He felt a primal desire to control - to be the sole reason someone would feel good, degraded, embarrassed, pleasured and helpless at his whim, his to own and possess.
And Wooyoung - sweet, saccharine Wooyoung - activated this particular desire passionately. He was always walking around, not a care in the world, always drowning his body in oversized clothing, making him look small and slight, and ultimately breedable . San wanted him to remember that he knew what his body looked like underneath all the layers. He wanted him to remember that he knew how to make him cry out in pleasure. He wanted him to remember that San had owned him for that one night and that he would have to beg if he ever wanted a second round.
Except Wooyoung didn’t have to beg. Because San had broken his third rule and had shamefully jacked off to the idea of hurtling Wooyoung so far into his subspace, it would take him hours of aftercare to coax him out of it. It was difficult not to, when he thought back to how easily Wooyoung spread his legs open for him, how fast he dropped to his knees to please San, and how obedient he was when San commanded him to come. San knew a sub when he saw one and Wooyoung was perfect for him.
So now, the metaphorical ball was in Wooyoung’s court because no matter how much power San may wield in the bedroom, he was still the one lusting after the guy who was perfectly fine letting the one night they had rest between them and it vexed San.
Part of San thought that the fact that he hadn’t actually fucked Wooyoung could be at fault for the week from hell he’d been experiencing, and he’d become increasingly more convinced to test out his theory with every passing day.
Which meant that when Wooyoung invited him over to see the final unpacked version of his room, San stuck a couple of condoms and packets of lubes in his back pocket before walking down the hall to the other’s apartment. It pleased San to learn that both of his roommates went home to pick up the rest of their stuff, so they were the only ones there. Which worked out perfectly for him, because San intended to hear his name screamed all night.
Wooyoung’s room was full of character as he’d expected it to be - pictures of friends and family lining one side of the wall, knick knacks and plushies from various occasions in his life lines his dresser and a robust collection of vinyls were sitting in a crate underneath his record player. Wooyoung put on the Cigarettes After Sex vinyl, surrounding the two of them with the tune of somber moods, sexy vignettes and bittersweet hookups. San watched as Wooyoung closed his eyes, looked up and swayed to the music, almost forgetting that San was even there.
It was electrifying. San watched him, breath caught in his throat lest he make a mistake and break Wooyoung out of his reverie. It was like watching a painting come to life; the smaller boy’s body moving in tune with the electric bassline and the plucked guitar, the words Greg sang coming alive with every move he made. He was still wearing an oversized grey shirt and sweatpants, but ever so occasionally, the material of the shirt would slip up, exposing smooth, precious skin.
San knew Wooyoung invited him over as a friend, just to showcase what he did to the room as evidenced by the forty minute detailed tour Wooyoung gave of every aspect of his haven. San had learned that Wooyoung has quite the eclectic taste in music, interest ranging from 70s rock to blue grime. He learned that his favorite movies were historical thrillers, his favorite anime was One Piece, and he was working on a horror film for one of his classes for this semester and he kept scaring himself with the props.
And San was happy to bond with Wooyoung over their mutual love for One Piece, he was happy to promise him a movie date for his favorite movie Masquerade and he laughed when Wooyoung told him how he screamed so loud they could hear him ten floors down in the science labs when he saw the mask he had physically bought himself the day before laying on the ground. He was happy.
He was happy but now Wooyoung was dancing, torso flexing, sensuality bursting through the edges of his body.
That was the moment San decided his rules could go to hell. Walking up behind Wooyoung, softly sliding his hand on the small boy’s hips, pushing up the edges of his shirt. Wooyoung looked back at him, ass pressed into his crotch, eyes wide open with shock, but one look at San’s expression and Wooyoung’s eyes turned dark, dropping to his lips and back up to his eyes.
Lust clouded Wooyoung’s eyes as San moved his hands up, still underneath the shirt, to his nipples, brushing his finger lightly against them.
San took his right nipple, pressing and rolling them between his fingers, and Wooyoung arched his neck up closer to San’s lips, the top of his nose gently touching San’s. San noted that the smaller boy even waited for him to start something as small as a kiss - almost like he knew what San wanted, what San craved.
“You want this?” San whispered, breath tickling Wooyoung’s lips.
“Yeah.”
San could barely hear him but it was enough to make him drop his hands, flip Wooyoung around, take his face in his hands and kiss him. San underestimated his own force, propelling Wooyoung backwards till he hit the closet door with his kiss. He almost pulled away to apologize but Wooyoung downright moaned at the impact, confirming San’s suspicions on what he was like, unchecked and unrestrained.
San chuckled, speaking the words into Wooyoung’s mouth,“Oh, you like that, baby? You like when it hurts? I bet it makes you more sensitive, huh?”
San moved his hands from Wooyoung’s face, grabbing onto the long tresses of his hair with one hand and digging his fingers into Wooyoung’s exposed hip with the other. In one move, San yanked Wooyoung’s hair back, bringing the smaller boy’s ear to San’s lips, and pulled him flush against his body, fingernails digging into the soft flesh of his hips.
“I bet you like it when it hurts so bad, so much it feels good . Do you like that, Wooyoung?”
Wooyoung preened, his pretty moans mixing in with the soft sound of Sweet playing in the background, “Yes. Fuck, San, yes.”
San began pressing kisses down the crook of his neck, “Color system. If you can’t talk, tap me twice.”
Wooyoung nodded fervently, “Yes. Yes, I understand, just please fuck me, San.”
San laughed, “Not so fast, baby. Tell me, have you been with anyone else since we met?”
Wooyoung looked up at him, eyes pleading, honest, “No. Nobody.”
San brought his hands up to Wooyoung’s face again, one hand resting on his cheek and the other caressing his hair, so gentle that it could be mistaken as loving, “You sure? You seemed awfully close with the guy that lives in 3D.”
Wooyoung shook his head, desperation tainting his features, “No, no. He’s just a friend from class.”
“Mm.” San started, letting the weight of the silence settle in the room, “Let me tell you a bit about myself Wooyoung. I don’t like sharing my possessions, never have and never will. I’m just not selfless like that. And if we do this, you belong to me. I will not stop you from dating or hooking up with anyone. But I will mark you, baby.”
San emphasized his point by licking over a spot on Wooyoung’s collarbone, taking it between his lips, sucking and biting until a fierce, red spot blooms on his skin, “I’ll mark you so every time you look into the mirror for the next week, you remember me. You remember how good I made you feel. You remember that all those idiot little boys scrambling at the chance to get your attention will never make you feel as good as I did. And I want them to see that you may be on a date with them that night, but I was the one to turn you into a mindless, shaking echo of yourself desperate for my cock. Desperate for me.”
Wooyoung’s pupils were the size of saucers, every word slowly imbedding in his mind and his thoughts and soon Wooyoung’s body was pliant - no resistance and no fight left in him, “Please. Please .”
“Please what, baby? Please mark me? Please fuck me? Use your words.”
Wooyoung’s body went slack in San’s arms, forcing San to support his weight, but it didn’t stop him from placing another mark in the crevice where his neck meets his shoulder.
Wooyoung pressed his lips to San’s ear in the first daring move of the evening, “Please do anything and everything you want to me, San.”
San complied.
His mouth finds the smaller boy’s jugular, biting down with no preamble. Wooyoung squealed at the sudden attack but bared his neck even more for San to mark. San moved his way down Wooyoung’s right shoulder, nipping and licking all over the slope of his neck. Pretty soon, Wooyoung’s right side was littered with red marks, soon to bruise blue and purple.
San loved that Wooyoung never protested the placement of the marks and their visibility and it only emboldened San, and he found himself tearing off Wooyoung’s clothes, almost in a frenzy. Once Wooyoung was completely naked, San stepped back to admire the other boy.
He was just as beautiful as he was under the moon and the starlight. He was lithe, with a delicate touch to his edges. He was toned enough to have a faint outline of abs, lean muscles adorning his figure. His honeyed skin did nothing to hide the blush Wooyoung was developing under San’s scrutinizing gaze. His arms wrapped around himself self consciously.
“Arms at your side, baby.” San commanded.
Wooyoung reluctantly dropped his arms, but lowered his gaze, avoiding San’s eyes. San noticed a blush had crept under the smaller boy’s eyes, highlighting his mole, and he repressed the urge to kiss it, like he had a few nights ago.
“You are so beautiful, baby.” Wooyoung’s eyes shot up, the praise giving him confidence, “And soon you’ll be a beautiful mosaic of reds, blues and purples.”
San knew he had this side in him, but no one had ever let him go as far as to mark them this extensively this early in their… relationship. More often than not, his partners would freak out when he got just a tiny bit mean, and San would pull back instantly, never wanting to make anyone feel uncomfortable. But Wooyoung welcomed him, letting out filthy, lewd sounds when San dropped to his knees and marked his thighs, abdomen, chest and everywhere he could get to. Wooyoung’s hand found purchase in San’s hair, pulling and moaning his name amongst a litany of “fuck”, “please” and “god”.
San smirked, noticing how hard Wooyoung had gotten, dick standing, red and angry. San had no right to feel this cocky about it, with the state of his own cock straining against the zipper of his jeans.
He was such an idiot for wearing his jeans.
“Let’s test out your gag reflex, Wooyoung. You were so proud of it last time but I want to see how good you’ll do when I fuck your throat.”
San worked his cock out of jeans as Wooyoung scrambled to the bed, laid down on his back, throwing his head over the edge of the bed. It was like he had read San’s mind and knew exactly what position he wanted him in, “You’re so much less talkative this time, Wooyoung. What changed?”
Wooyoung looked nervous responding, voice scratchy and low, “I didn’t know if I was allowed to speak.”
San’s dick twitched at his words, sliding it across Wooyoung’s lips. He spit directly down on his dick and Wooyoung’s lips smearing the filth, “You’re such a good little whore for me, aren’t you, Wooyoung? You know exactly what your role here is, just a pretty little whore for me to fuck whenever I want, right?”
Wooyoung’s eyes dilated, desire etched in his face, “Just a pretty little whore for you, San.”
“Good boy.”
S an pushed his dick into Wooyoung’s mouth, sinking in, the smaller boy’s lips rounding perfectly to fit his dick and true to his word, San hit the back of Wooyoung’s throat, bottoming out with little resistance from Wooyoung.
That alone could have been enough to make San shoot down Wooyoung’s throat, but he kept himself together, the promise of Wooyoung’s asshole clenching around the weight of his dick motivating him to last as long as he could.
San began moving his dick, sliding up and down Wooyoung’s mouth, slowly giving him the time to adjust to San’s cock down his throat. San could see Wooyoung’s throat bulge every time he sank down and he couldn’t help but wrap a hand around the smaller boy’s neck and squeeze gently, feeling his own length harden at the impact. Wooyoung’s dick jumped with every squeeze, the pre-cum leaking out proving how much Wooyoung enjoyed this as much as San did.
San pulled all the way out and Wooyoung let go with a pop, a forlorn look to his eyes.
“What’s your color?”
“Green.” Wooyoung answered obediently.
San nodded, “Remember to tap twice if it becomes too much?”
Wooyoung nodded, arching his face up, trying to reach for San’s dick again.
“Patience, baby. You’ll get what you want.” San chuckled.
And with that, San eased his dick down Wooyoung’s throat until he could feel his balls faintly touch Wooyoung’s nose. He stayed there, admiring the bulge in his thick throat.
“I’m going to fuck your mouth now.” San declared, as he pulled back and slammed into Wooyoung’s throat at an accelerated pace. Wooyoung’s hands flew to San’s ass steadying him, and San could feel him relax his jaw to take the jackhammer pace San was setting.
The more Wooyoung gurgled, the more spit gathered in bubbles around his mouth smearing more filth all over his jaw. San was suddenly hit with the urge to fill Wooyoung’s face with spit and cum so he pulled out, smacking his dick twice against Wooyoung’s cheek. Wooyoung, the beautiful, obedient sub that he is, stuck out his tongue to try and lick the tip of his dick with each hit. San reached over and picked up Wooyoung’s precum with his finger, putting it on the smaller boy’s face and proceeded to smear it all over his face with his cock. When San was done, there was a shiny layer of filth glowing on Wooyoung’s face.
Satisfied with his work, San went back to fucking Wooyoung’s face but this time he turned around so he can see Wooyoung’s face as he rammed into him. Wooyoung’s pupils were dilated and he looked like he was on the verge of losing his last brain cell and of course it went straight to San’s dick. San didn’t think he could get even harder but he felt his dick stiffen within Wooyoung’s wet heat of his mouth. San felt Wooyoung press his tongue up to the shaft of his cock, keeping it there, forcing himself to violently gag on San’s cock.There were tears coming out of the corner of Wooyoung’s eyes, mixing with the blend of spit and cum already gracing his face. San hadn’t met resistance as he fucked Wooyoung’s throat and somewhere in the back of his mind he realized Wooyoung must be crying for his benefit.
The thought almost sent him spilling down the smaller boy’s throat.
He pulled out, determined to fuck him this time and not even his own orgasm will ruin that for him.
Wooyoung looked up at San, red-rimmed eyes, full, lips pressed into a pout, “Did I do something wrong?”
San was starting to think he was obsessed with the mole on his lips. He leaned down to kiss him, tasting his own cock on Wooyoung’s lips, “No, baby. You did so good. I just want to fuck you now.”
Wooyoung smiled, and turned himself around, put his face to the comforter and stuck his ass up, spreading his cheeks, allowing his hole to be on display, “Do you want me to prep myself, Sannie?”
Fuck, Wooyoung calling him Sannie was going to end him.
“No, I think you earned my fingers, don’t you?”
Wooyoung’s lip trembled in anticipation, “I hope so.”
San brought down his hand, smacking Wooyoung’s full, taut ass, the curvature of his skin only jiggling the slightest bit. San noticed Wooyoung flinched but not nearly as much as he should have at the impact. San spanked him again just to make sure and recognized the signs of Wooyoung slipping into his subspace. His pain receptors were already dulled, trapping him in a pleasure filled state and one look at Wooyoung’s face told him he was right. He only needed just a bit more to throw him over the edge.
Pouring a generous amount of lube on his index finger, he slipped it into Wooyoung’s asshole with ease. With his other hand, he fisted Woyooung’s hair in a bunch, pulling his head back.
San dropped his lips to the other boy’s ear, “What are you, baby?”
Wooyoung’s voice was pleasantly raw and hoarse from the abuse he took earlier, “I’m your good little whore.”
San added another finger, as easy as the first, as he asked another question, “And what are you good for?”
Wooyoung’s eyes hooded over. He arched his back lower, pushing his ass higher chasing after San’s fingers, “I’m - M only good for, ngh- fuck, ‘m only good for making you feel good, Sannie. ‘M only good to be fucked, to do what you want me to do, fuck,” Wooyoung whimpered when San curved his fingers in his ass, “Whatever you want, mm, whenever you want. Just a whore. Just a good little whore.”
Wooyoung was still repeating how good of a little whore he was when San slipped a third finger, “That’s right, baby. You’re just a good little whore, for me, no one else but me. I get to fill your pretty little hole whenever I want. I get to use your mouth at my beck and call. You’re nothing but a slut made perfectly to fit around my cock.”
With each word he said, San recognized the daze taking over Wooyoung’s mind, the cloudiness completely overtaking his eyes. Lewd pants and San’s own grunts were the only sounds filling the room.
Finally.
San quickly lubed his cock up and eased it in, bottoming out slowly. Wooyoung felt every bit as good as San expected him to. He was tight, walls hugging his dick, pulsing rhythmically around it.
Wooyoung fell deeper into the mattress, moans muffled by the sheets and San stayed there, balls deep in Wooyoung’s ass; the smaller boy’s face hidden in the constellation sheets San was expecting to ruin in a few minutes' time, admiring the scene. San pulled back and slowly slid himself back in until Wooyoung was begging for more, “More. Please, more.”
And San was honestly not sure how much longer he could hold it, the sight of Wooyoung’s dick crushed underneath the weight of San’s hands threatening to break his composure and so he obeyed his pretty boy.
San didn’t give Wooyoung much of a warning as he started ramming into his ass at a breakneck pace. Wooyoung moaned, a loud, filthy sort of whine and it only served to spur San on more, chasing more and more moans out of Wooyoung’s beautiful lips.
Tears threatened to spill from Wooyoung’s eyes as San held onto his waist with one hand and wrapped his other hand around Wooyoung’s painfully hard cock. San never let himself slow down, slamming into the smaller boy’s ass with an increased fervor, the sound of skin on skin filling the room, contrasting the forgotten vinyl in the background.
Wooyoung could barely form words, but San decoded as much as he could from his speech.
“Please, ngh - please San, please let me come. Please, San. Please!” Wooyoung cried out the last please when San used his leg to steady himself, moving his hand from Wooyoung’s waist to his hair, pulling him back.
San wanted to see his face when he came.
Wooyoung was still pleading with him to let him come, a couple of tears gracing his cheeks and San could feel himself get closer and closer to his own release, “Come for me, baby.”
And Wooyoung was such a good boy, the perfect boy for San because he let go, almost instantly, still screaming, “Please, please, please, please,” as he came onto his sheets and the sight of Wooyoung’s absolutely wrecked body sent San spilling inside the smaller boy with a grunt.
San shuddered, riding out the last of his orgasm, rocking himself inside Wooyoung’s ass before pulling out slowly, watching the cum leak out of Wooyoung’s asshole onto the sheets.
Wooyoung all but collapsed when San let go of his weight.
S an knelt down and used the last of his strength to lift an exhausted Wooyoung in his arms, silently thanking the stars above Wooyoung had the room with the solo bathroom, “Come on, love. Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”
Wooyoung lifted his eyes, lazy and unfocused, “ ‘m tired.”
San pressed a kiss to his forehead, “I know. You did so good for me today. So good. But now I get to take care of you, yeah? You deserve to be rewarded, angel.”
San set Wooyoung down on the edge of the sink, running water in the bathtub.
“I was good?”
San’s heart swelled, hearing the pride and the insecurity in the question, despite all of Wooyoung’s confidence, “Absolutely. You were the best.”
Wooyoung grinned and San couldn’t help but feel even more fondness for the other boy as he lowered him into the bathtub, Wooyoung never letting go of him until he climbed in with him, arms around him.
…
Hours later, they had been scrubbed clean, the sheets had been changed and San coaxed Wooyoung out of his subspace, slowly but surely, with loving touches and whispers of sweet nothings.
San was in bed with Wooyoung, exhausted to the bones, one arm around Wooyoung with the other boy’s chest settled against his chest. It felt easy being with Wooyoung. So easy that even after San had made sure that Wooyoung was okay and back to his usual self, he had opted to stay anyway, learning more and more about the enigma that is Jung Wooyoung.
Wooyoung was telling him about all the odd jobs he took to save up for his first camera; the camera that inspired him to go to school for filmmaking. It was sitting in the arms of one of the plushies he had sitting on his dresser, but San had somehow missed it.
“I want to take a picture with it,” San had gotten up to inspect the ancient thing (it was only six years old, but it felt ancient). It was a Fujifilm camera with an analog dial and no screen, but it looked exactly like the type of camera San had pictured Wooyoung would own.
Wooyoung laughed, “Yeah, you can. There’s film in there.”
S an didn’t want to make it obvious, so he made a show of looking around the room, feeling out what it was he wanted to take a picture of. San knew he wanted to take a picture of Wooyoung, though.
Post-sex Wooyoung was even more beautiful. He was laying back, completely relaxed, smiling with no inhibitions. His hair was down, framing his face in no particular pattern, as free as he was. He was shirtless; the duvet covering all the inappropriate parts of his but the golden panes of his chest were defined under the dim lighting of his fairy lights.
When San lifted the camera towards Wooyoung, he giggled and tried to hide behind his arm, “What in the world are you doing, Choi San?”
San dropped the camera for a second, pouting, “Taking a picture of you. You look pretty.”
Wooyoung peeked from above his forearm, “Really?”
He sounded sincere in his question, so San did his best to convey the truth in his words, “Yes, really. You’re beautiful. Now let me take a picture of you.”
Wooyoung reluctantly let his arm drop, a small smile playing on his lips, a shy twinkle in his eyes and it was somehow even more perfect than before.
San took the shot and in that moment, realized that he had failed.
He did not fuck Jung Wooyoung out of his system.