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ever since they both moved out of their hometown to pursue ambitious educations and dream jobs, kang younghyun and kim wonpil haven’t felt further apart from each other.
it was so much easier back then, when they had everything to relate to; lab partnerships, grueling homework assignments, whispered confessions beneath blankets. now all they have to keep in touch is their phones.
wonpil’s mornings always start with a short message from the elder, his best friend of almost fifteen years, always wishing him a good day. they call each other when they can. they whisper little “i love you”s into the phone before they go to sleep.
their dynamic isn’t exactly normal for friends, but they aren’t just friends. they’re best friends. closer than close. inseparable. ever since their first year of school, they’d been joint at the hip. they studied together, walked to and from school together, did everything they could do, together . they’d both come out to each other at age twelve (wonpil as gay and younghyun as bi). at fourteen they were each other’s first kiss. they were there for each other always, through breakups and breakdowns. through thick and thin.
today, the ache in wonpil’s heart is a little stronger than usual. all he’s able to think about is younghyun: how much he misses their moments together, their nights spent talking, laughing, holding each other. he walks home from work at the end of a hard week thinking about how long it’s been. he realizes with a start that they haven’t called in over a week (younghyun’s always busy with his classes these days). his pace automatically doubles, his whole body wanting nothing but to get home. wonpil can feel his stomach flutter at the thought of hearing younghyun again.
he enters his dim and empty apartment to a cluttered mess. he can feel the built up tension in his back and shoulders, but he needs to clean this up before he relaxes, or else he’ll put it off for another week. dejectedly, wonpil closes the door behind him and takes off his shoes— just another task for him to handle this week.
he’d been so busy tidying up, clearing every possible surface and picking up stray articles of clothing— with the added distraction of loud music blaring through the apartment, of course—that his excited thoughts of calling younghyun slip to the back of his mind.
after a quiet dinner and some well deserved entertainment, wonpil settles into bed at a reasonable hour of 9:00. he feels clean and comfortable, completely at ease beneath the sheets. he scrolls absentmindedly through his phone, his favorite playlist playing in his earbuds. he’s nonchalantly checking up on social media when a notification appears at the top of his screen:
younghyun: hey!
wonpil audibly gasps, the yearning he’d been feeling all day coming back in an instant. his face splits into a huge grin as he types up a response.
hyung! i was thinking of you earlier today :)
younghyun: really?? i was too! i miss you so much >:(
i miss you too!!
wonpil is still smiling widely at his phone as he rolls over in bed. he shifts onto his back so he can sit up against the headboard.
younghyun: aw <3
younghyun: anyway, how are you? it’s been a while
yeah! i’m ok, now that i can relax. this week wasn’t easy for me. how’re you?
younghyun: horny as fuck, if i’m being honest
wonpil manages to hold in his laughter at that last message. younghyun is always so blunt.
oh yeah? i bet it’s because you miss me ;)
younghyun: shut up
younghyun: i’ve just been too busy to relax is all
he giggles at his phone. the older boy has always been so easy for him to tease. to most people, younghyun is an impenetrable wall of confidence and charisma, but wonpil knows exactly how to make him crumble.
too bad
younghyun: hey, don’t be mean! college is hard :( especially without you here with me
aw, hyung
too bad
younghyun: i widh you would shut up
teasing younghyun never gets old.
you’re just saying that because i won’t help you
younghyun: annoyinf
younghyun: god youte so meamn
younghyun’s messages gradually start to come up slower and visibly less coherent, which only encourages the younger to continue his pestering of the elder. it’s just too easy to get to him.
younghyun: wonpil thid isbt funmy anynote
younghyun: plrease
wonpil feels something in his stomach start to twist. younghyun is now almost impossible to understand and is sending a string of short messages, all variations of “please” or “wonpil”.
he can’t ignore the rolling heat he begins to feel in his own belly as he rereads the messages again. the embarrassingly blatant desperation isn't something he is used to seeing from younghyun but he can’t say it isn’t alluring to him the way he seems to be on the verge of breaking.
wonpil just can’t help himself.
i’m calling you now, hyung
to that younghyun replies with an indecipherable jumble of characters, and the younger can only assumes that means “ok”.
as soon as he presses “call”, his grip on his phone tightens a little. wonpil worries his bottom lip between his teeth as the phone rings. what if he’s crossing a line?
at this point, his brain is a little too fuzzy for him to care. besides, they’re best friends. it’s not like it’s abnormal for him to have some kind of sexual attraction towards younghyun. what’s a little-
he picks up.
“i..” younghyun’s voice cuts through wonpil’s fretful trance like a sharp blade. he sounds so small. “i told you it wasn’t funny” he says weakly.
“i know” wonpil quickly replies in a voice more intimidating than even he’d expected. younghyun kind of takes in a bit of air in a broken gasp at that. “what’s got you so worked up anyway, hyung?” there’s a long pause.
“it’s just been so long since i’ve had enough time..” younghyun sighs (a little shakily) and wonpil hears the sound of the elder shifting.
before wonpil even gets the chance to think about what to do next, he hears a small inhale and younghyun whines . loud. unabashedly. wonpil feels his face flush brightly and his eyes widen.
wonpil is caught off guard and is flustered to say the least, but quickly regains his composure and feels a smug grin appear on his face. “im guessing you have time now, right hyung?”. younghyun whimpers in affirmation.
“i missed you” younghyun blurts weakly. the younger is silent but his mind is racing to catch up. then he finally connects the dots.
“oh,” is all wonpil can think to reply with. younghyun is quiet. “i missed you too, hyung,” he tries. all the younger boy can think about is that he was right. it is because younghyun missed him. he hums.
wonpil is straining to hear what the other boy is doing through the phone, listening for sounds younghyun would be trying to conceal.
all he can hear is the faint sound of younghyun’s endearingly uneven breathing. there’s not much noise, but the sound of wonpil’s thoughts are deafening. this is really happening. the smaller boy tries his best to mute his mind and let things play out.
“hyung missed me so much he got this worked up just thinking about me, hm?” he quips. younghyun’s reaction is immediate. he gasps again and the sound of him shifting got louder. he whimpers loudly. wonpil can’t deny how quickly his effect on younghyun is turning him on. the power he has over the elder is making him feel like he’s flying.
“wonpil,” younghyun practically squeaks his name .
the younger feels like he’s about to catch fire. the sound of his name on younghyun’s tongue (especially in this context) is quickly sending wonpil spiralling into an aroused trance.
“what are you doing now, younghyun?”
younghyun hesitates “touching..” he replies weakly.
“yeah?” wonpil feels his own hand subconsciously sliding down his abdomen reaching for his waistband. “does hyung still have his pants on?”
“yes,”
“off,” wonpil’s voice is gentle but so sharp. “you can take them off now, younghyun,”
“i.. ok,” younghyun’s tone is still as airy and faint as ever.
after some shifting sounds younghyun hums. he sounds a bit more nervous now, his breathing now a bit louder. wonpil frantically pulls down his own shorts and boxers, grabbing hold of his quickly hardening cock after haphazardly spitting into his palm. he hisses at the sudden contact.
“wonpil,” younghyun prompts. the younger grunts in response. “are you touching too?”
god. younghyun’s voice sounds so different. his tone is usually pretty deep, even husky, but now... it sounds so high and so.. weak. helpless. wonpil starts to stroke himself a bit faster.
“yeah,” wonpil can just barely choke out his reply. he’s already so hard, his mind spinning and his whole body aflame. all he can think about is the sound of his best friend on the other side. he holds in a cry as he thumbs over the head of his now aching cock.
“can i..?”
oh god. he’s asking permission to touch. wonpil didn’t think this could get any hotter. but younghyun is always full of surprises.
“yes, younghyun,” wonpil replies, suddenly dropping the honorific. younghyun audibly stifles in a gasp. he doesn’t bother to correct himself. in fact, it’s almost more fitting to address the elder informally. “you can touch yourself,”
“oh, thank you wonpil. thank you,” younghyun sighs. he’s already panting and letting out these little muffled whining sounds. he’s hiding.
it may be cute how embarrassed he’s acting, but the younger can’t stand not hearing his voice when he’s like this. “stop that. i wanna hear you,” wonpil half moans the command.
“ok,” he whispers. wonpil assumes the elder has removed his hand from his mouth. the string of moans and gasps that shortly follow affirm his suspicion, and make the younger feel infinitely more intoxicated.
younghyun sounds absolutely wrecked. his voice is high and strained and addictive. “oh god,” and then, “please,” and then,
“ hyung .”
wonpil, who had been making noises of his own, falls silent. “what did you just call me?” wonpil feels himself twitching and leaking pathetically in his own hand while he holds his phone in the other.
“im sorry, i was- it-“
“say it again. please. please call me that again.” wonpil voice is thin and his grip on reality is slipping. he feels like he’s about to melt.
“i-”
“say it.” wonpil’s voice raises in pitch. he's desperate.
“hyung.. hyung, please.” younghyun whines, to which wonpil lets out a guttural moan. at this point he’s touching himself at a frantic pace, already so close. he’s on the verge of falling apart, all because of the older’s voice. the new title- for some reason- makes him feel ten times more entranced.
“faster, younghyun,” wonpil grunts. “go faster for hyung,”
younghyun all but sobs out wonpil’s name.
“good?”
“oh god, so good, hyung. so close. please. please, hyung,”
wonpil feels his own climax rapidly approaching at the sound of the elder’s raw, primal desperation.
“me too, younghyun. fuck,” wonpil whines. he’s on fire. “you can cum,”
at that, younghyun gets louder as finally he gives himself release. his voice starts to break, and he cums with a broken sob of wonpil’s name. he sounds beautiful.
wonpil is right behind younghyun, groaning the elder’s name and writhing as he cums.
when wonpil finally comes down from his high, he hears younghyun’s whines even out into little sniffles and whimpers. is he crying? apparently younghyun cries when he gets off , wonpil notes.
it’s quiet for a bit.
“hyung,” wonpil finally says after about two minutes of silence, save for the sound of them breathing evenly. “you still here? on earth?”
younghyun laughs weakly at that. his voice is hoarse and he sounds dehydrated, but it’s him. that’s his younghyun.
“yeah,” he sighs. “thanks for that. i guess owe you one,”
“hyung, no!” wonpil exclaims. “don’t be ridiculous. why would you ever need to repay me for that?”
“i just-”
“it’s not like i didn’t get something out of that too, hyung.” the younger adds.
silence. then, a small “oh,”
after a pause, they both burst into a fit of giggles.
“it’s what best friends do for each other, i guess,” is what wonpil settles with.
“not exactly normal best friends,” the elder chuckles, and wonpil can hear his grin through the phone “but it’s what we do, right?”
“right,”