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seungyoun makes wooseok nervous.
for no good reason, really, he’s the perfect boyfriend.
he showers wooseok with love and attention and sings him sticky sweet love songs he claims to scribble in the palms of his hand when he’s at work instead of, you know, actually doing his work.
seungyoun once compared him to that of the mona lisa, that he’s like a treasure the world is given viewing pleasure yet unable to touch, and seungyoun is the caretaker of the invaluable art that is kim wooseok.
if there’s one thing he’s sure about most in the world, it’s that seungyoun wholeheartedly and unabashedly loves him.
that doesn’t stop wooseok’s fingers from trembling at their closeness, seungyoun’s lips pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s ear when he’s granted access into wooseok’s apartment.
his boyfriend looks devastatingly handsome. ethereal. other-wordly. and all he’s wearing is a black button-up with white polka dots, rolled up his forearms, tucked into a pair of black jeans.
“you’re early,” the smaller boy greets him, tone light and happy. he’s not completely done getting ready for their dinner date, but seungyoun’s mere presence brings him joy nonetheless.
“i couldn’t wait to see you.” he’s so earnest. it’s one of the many, countless reasons wooseok fell in love with him.
he falls deeper with every passing second.
when seungyoun heads to the kitchen to let wooseok continue getting ready, wooseok follows him instead, like a kitten on his heels.
he picks up on seungyoun’s laugh when he realizes that his boyfriend is behind him, and when he turns, wooseok is on him with no time wasted.
seungyoun’s lips taste like home and honey and heat in the pool of his stomach.
“happy anniversary,” wooseok whispers when their lips part, nose bumping affectionately with seungyoun’s.
the taller of the two hums, grin bright and blinding, fingers squeezing at wooseok’s hips. “happy anniversary, baby. you still need to get ready, remember?” there’s a pause, wooseok busy pouting.
“i’m not gonna have to dress you, am i, doll?”
cheeks tint pink, and wooseok shakes his head. that particular petname makes his skin tingle all over.
“good boy. now go finish getting ready so we can go eat, cause i know you’ve got to be hungry by now, hm?”
it’s true. they’re both starving, having complained to one another over text before seungyoun showed up that they should’ve scheduled the dinner earlier. but that’s just boys being boys, the kind with bottomless pits in place of their stomachs.
he doesn’t take long at all to finish getting dressed (he threw on a black button up tucked into some black slacks, even added a black polka dot tie to match seungyoun’s shirt), and when wooseok steps out of the room he’s blessed with the sight of his boyfriend filling up the entirety of the dry erase board attached to his fridge with hearts surrounding a number one.
“gross,” wooseok’s nose crinkles, and all seungyoun does is wiggle his eyebrows back. he’s far too used to wooseok being a pain in the ass by now. they’ve survived the past year of finally dating well enough, he thinks.
“you love it.” well, there’s no denying that. wooseok loves everything that seungyoun does, and that’s saying something when seungyoun is… well, a leo, to say the least. “c’mon, pretty, let’s go eat.”
—
the restaurant seungyoun chose is dimly lit, and luckily they’re seated in a rounded booth towards the back of the room, because there’s been a hand on wooseok’s thigh since they arrived and it’s been inching it’s way in between his legs with every passing minute.
it’s not that he minds, really, it’s just that. wooseok can’t really focus on anything but the fingers, dangerously close to his clothed cock, stroking the inside of his thigh.
turning towards his boyfriend after their waiter dropped off their drinks, wooseok squirms in his seat. “seungyoun?”
“yeah?”
“stop teasing me.”
he’s not pouting, he’s not, he’s just trying to focus on their dinner and how lucky he is to have seungyoun and it’s hard to do that when his boyfriend’s fingers are turning the channel of his consciousness to a static screen with their teasing.
seungyoun grins like a cat sizing up a canary and giggles in a way that infuriates wooseok, grip pressing into wooseok’s thigh, coercing his legs to part slightly.
“am i teasing you, baby?”
wooseok huffs and leans back in the booth, crossing his arms over his chest indignantly. he looks away, feigning indifference now.
“no, you’re bothering me,” he retorts, no malice behind his words, and he doesn’t move to close his legs. if anything, he spreads them an inch further.
seungyoun hums a noise of false pity, sporting an exaggerated pout to match, and wooseok inhales deeply as he leans in.
“do you not like me touching you?” his voice is softer than before, still teasing but there’s a genuine question beneath the surface, breath hot over wooseok’s ear. “do you want me to stop?”
this is seungyoun asking for his permission, seeking a green light to continue with whatever he’s got in mind to torture wooseok with. they’ve spoken previously about doing things in public, but wooseok didn’t expect it to come on a night like this.
(not like he’s going to complain).
“yes.”
it’s not the safe word, just wooseok being his usual bratty self, so seungyoun laughs a bit as his pinky finger brushes over wooseok’s cock underneath the table.
“it’s so cute that you think i’ll stop just ‘cause you say so, kitten,” he coos into wooseok’s ear, his words much darker than his playful tone implies. “dumb little baby can’t make decisions for himself anyway, can he?”
wooseok feels a shiver run from his head to his toes, mouth slack as he meets seungyoun’s dark gaze. he’s more used to ingesting those words in the privacy of a room, free to whine and mindlessly agree, call himself the dumb little baby seungyoun knows him to be.
now, he bites his lip to hide a whimper, nervously surveying about their surroundings. not a single person in the restaurant is paying attention to the couple, yet wooseok feels a hundred pairs of eyes on him at once.
nails dig into his thigh, “answer me.”
eyes snap back to seungyoun, blinking slowly. the only thing wooseok’s brain registers is his cock filling up with the humiliation blooming in his chest and spikes of pain from seungyoun’s nails biting at the sensitive skin of his thigh.
what was the question again?
seungyoun seems to catch onto the reason for wooseok’s silence and shakes his head, clicking his tongue to his teeth to express his disapproval. he uses the grip on his thigh to tug wooseok’s leg over his own, switching hands to keep the new hand on his thigh while he presses the heel of the other between wooseok’s legs.
“poor baby,” he mutters when wooseok mewl, “hard just from me touching your thigh.”
wooseok feels like a doll with the way that seungyoun is handling him with no resistance keeping him from doing so. there’s not much he can do, not when he can barely move or speak with the fear that he’s going to moan or cry or roll his eyes back and blow their cover.
“are you gonna be able to order whenever our waitress comes back? or are you just gonna sit there, pretty little mouth open and your eyes wide and pleading for me?”
“y-youn,” he stutters out pathetically, voice thick with arousal, hips squirming slightly underneath seungyoun’s pushy hands.
“she’s gonna see how stupid and fucked out you look just from my words,” seungyoun continues, and wooseok jumps slightly, choking back a noise when he drags his nails over the outline of wooseok’s cock, hard in his pants.
“stop,” wooseok whines lowly in his humiliation, eyes never leaving seungyoun, and he knows he doesn’t really mean it. they both do.
wooseok feels lightheaded with the idea of someone being able to tell that seungyoun is toying with him, knowing his shuddering breaths are from the hand playing with him underneath the table.
“stop what?”
his fingers wrap loosely around seungyoun’s wrist, as if he’ll pull it away.
“tell me what you want, kitten. you want me to stop playing with your little cock, is that it?”
wooseok wants to whine, tell him not to call it little, wants to pull his hand off in fear that they’ll be caught.
“n-no, seungyounie.” he wants this to never end.
seungyoun just sighs, content, calm, and wooseok can only tell he’s riled up by the cock hard underneath his thigh over seungyoun’s lap and the way his jaw is clenched shut as he glances around.
meeting wooseok’s eyes, seungyoun sighs once more. “i know, doll. you’re such a good little slut for me.”
they’re interrupted by the waitress approaching their table, and wooseok clenches his eyes shut as seungyoun curls his fingers over wooseok’s cock and strokes at a painfully slow pace. god, this can’t be happening.
she’s right in front of their table, asking them if they’re ready to order, and wooseok can’t think of anything but seungyoun calling him his little slut.
wooseok can’t focus on anything, barely catches bits of their conversation, and seungyoun sounds like his usual charming self, like he’s doing absolutely nothing out of the ordinary; nothing at all like he’s tormenting wooseok underneath the table.
from what little he could hear, he pieces together seungyoun explaining that wooseok is suddenly feeling under the weather and they’ll take their food to go. he even thinks he caught something about chicken feet.
any other time, wooseok would be ecstatic at the mention of his favorite dish. now, all he craves is seungyoun. his mind is a mantra of seungyoun, seungyoun, seungyoun; as if it’s the only thing he knows.
“god, you’re doing so good for me, kitten,” seungyoun’s lips brush over the shell of his ear, words low with a growl as he moves his hand from wooseok’s lap.
wooseok looks helplessly at his boyfriend and his hips grind up into nothing, his own hand seeking out seungyoun’s to bring it back.
seungyoun just chuckles at his weak grip when wooseok’s fingers wrap loosely around his wrist. “don’t worry, kitty, i’m gonna give you what you want. daddy never leaves you hanging, does he?”
he’s sinking deeper, like a shipwreck overtaken by the sea, and seungyoun is filling all of the cracks; submerging him until all he can taste is salt on his tongue.
seungyoun’s brow is cocked, wooseok realizes, waiting for an answer to his question. “can you use your words, pretty?” he sounds amused, “or does daddy have to do all of the work?”
wooseok’s tongue feels heavy, and he swallows when he shakes his head, eyes never leaving seungyoun’s. he tries not to whine the moment he opens his mouth.
“no,” is all he breathes out, distracted by seungyoun’s hand returning to his lap, this time to undo the button and zipper of wooseok’s pants.
before he can realize his mistake, seungyoun’s eyes flit about the room and he’s grabbing wooseok’s chin. there’s a little pout to seungyoun’s lips and, to anyone else, it looks like they’re just being playful with the way he wiggles wooseok’s chin in his grip.
the way he bites out the words, however, is anything but playful.
“no, what, kitten?”
the tight knot in wooseok’s tummy is burning, hot from arousal. “no, daddy. i- i can use my words.”
“good boy,” seungyoun releases his chin, finally wrapping his fingers around wooseok’s cock, “i didn’t wanna have to slap your pretty little face in front of everyone here for forgetting your place.”
he thinks of seungyoun, throwing caution to the wind and slapping him right there, heads snapping in their direction as wooseok cries out.
wooseok’s eyes roll back, body leaning into seungyoun. seungyoun’s fingers slide easily over his length, leaking enough from the teasing that there’s surely a wet spot in his slacks.
“you’d like that, wouldn’t you, kitten?” seungyoun teases when he hears wooseok let out a little whine, and wooseok shakes his head in response, biting at his lip to keep his noises in.
“i’d bring you in my lap and make you beg for it. i think everyone deserves to hear how pathetic you sound, begging for daddy to slap you ‘cause you like the pain. my little kitty, getting off on being hurt.”
seungyoun is stroking him throughout it all, never missing a beat.
he feels like he can’t breathe. wooseok is absolutely certain that seungyoun wants him dead, wants him lifeless on the floor beneath them.
his cheeks are burning and he already feels an orgasm licking at the flames of the fire within him, and he can tell seungyoun, the absolute menace he is, is taking the utmost pleasure out of this.
god, wooseok wants it. wants him.
overwhelmed, he turns slightly to push his face into seungyoun’s neck, swallowing a whimper.
“i-” his breath catches in his throat when seungyoun squeezes at his cock, “i. i need. daddy, need you, please, i-i can’t– wanna, wanna come.”
seungyoun takes in a deep breath, wooseok pressing his nose into his neck and pushing his hips up into the hand that paused its stroking.
“oh, kitty,” seungyoun exhales reverently, “you want it so bad, don’t you?”
it’s then that seungyoun detangles their limbs and parts from wooseok, who lets out a noise of disappointment from the lack of warmth.
seungyoun doesn’t leave him disappointed any longer than a second, hastily buttoning his slacks back up before a hand is grasping at his own and pulling him out of the booth.
—
wooseok is barely allowed a moment before seungyoun is all over him, shoving his back against the door of the bathroom and fervently licking into his mouth.
now that they’re alone, wooseok holds nothing back. this is the kitten seungyoun knows and loves, the one whining into his mouth and crying out in desperation when hands gripping his ass pull apart his cheeks as seungyoun grinds against him.
the drag of fabric against his cock hurts, so painfully hard that his brain is mush, and he’s so desperate for seungyoun’s cock in him that he feels tears pricking his eyes. wooseok can feel it, thick and long against him, and he can’t stop himself from begging for it.
“please,” wooseok pants between kisses, “please, daddy, please, i need it.”
he lets out a dry sob as seungyoun’s fingers wrap around his throat, squeezing in and forcing his head back against the wall, teeth scraping against the underside of his jaw.
“love hearing you beg for me, baby,” he sounds primitive, the sound of his voice pulling a moan from wooseok, “want daddy to fuck you? open you up for me and fuck you right here, make you scream? make everyone hear what a dumb little slut you are, getting fucked in the bathroom?”
wooseok’s fingers are grasping desperately at seungyoun’s shirt, fists balling up the fabric in his attempt to pull seungyoun impossibly close, little sobs escaping him as he nods mindlessly to every word he hears.
“please, please, d-” two of seungyoun’s fingers stop his pleading, pushing through his lips and pressing down on his tongue. wooseok hollows his cheeks, sucking at them needily, drool covering seungyoun’s fingers and dripping down his chin.
“stupid, slutty kitten,” seungyoun leans in to kiss the corner of his mouth, wet from spit his fingers fucking into his mouth are coaxing out.
he wants those fingers inside of him, pushes his hips against seungyoun’s where he has him pinned against the wall, and the groan seungyoun lets out urges him to do it again. he needs seungyoun to comprehend his urgency somehow, needs him to understand that if he doesn’t get something inside of him now, wooseok will disintegrate.
seungyoun retracts both hands and pulls back to make quick work of wooseok’s pants, shoving them down his thighs. finally, finally, please, yes, wooseok’s mind chants.
“that desperate for something in you, hm, kitten?” he gets impossibly close, wooseok’s head tilting up for his tear filled eyes to meet seungyoun’s. he really didn’t think he babbled those thoughts out loud.
wooseok can only moan, pushing back against the spit slick finger prodding at his hole.
“don’t be too loud, now,” seungyoun warns, chuckling at the way wooseok cries out when he pushes the tip of his middle finger in, “unless you want everyone to hear daddy’s little kitten getting played with.”
he only gets a finger in, and wooseok is already babbling for seungyoun’s cock. he just can’t help it, can’t stop himself from sounding like a broken record of ‘daddy’, ‘want your cock’, ‘please’, and seungyoun can’t deny him of anything.
by the time seungyoun turns wooseok to press his face against the door, his cock is covered in spit from fucking wooseok’s mouth, his hole stretched from bouncing on his own pretty, long fingers, fucking himself open on seungyoun’s orders while he was on his knees.
“wanted to take you home, first,” seungyoun pants against wooseok’s ear, one hand resting on his throat and the other on his cock, dragging it between his cheeks torturously slow just to hear wooseok moan when the tip catches against his hole, “wanted to take it slow and show you how much i love you.”
wooseok whines, pushes his hips back. he gets a slap that’s sure to leave a red handprint on his ass, hears the word ‘brat’ mumbled near his ear before he finally gets what he wants.
the stretch is equal parts pleasing and just edging on painful when seungyoun enters him; but it’s the kind of pain that causes wooseok’s toes to curl, teeth digging into his lower lip at how wide his boyfriend stretches him — because holy fuck it feels like the first time every time with seungyoun’s size.
seungyoun’s fingers flex over his throat, pulling out and fucking back into him with vigor, and wooseok knows the only reason he’s still standing is because of seungyoun’s body pressing him into the wall.
“god, then you looked at me so pretty,” seungyoun moans, mouthing at his neck, his ear, teeth scraping skin, “telling me you needed me, wanted to come.”
wooseok can’t stop whining with each thrust, head in the clouds as seungyoun speaks to him, the words carving deep into his abdomen. seungyoun doesn’t know how to be quiet in his normal, daily life, so it’s no surprise that he doesn’t know how to stop in times like this, either.
not that wooseok wants him to — seungyoun knows how much wooseok loves his voice, loves when he says filthy things to him while they’re fucking.
“dirty little kitten, so whiny. you wanna be heard, don’t you?” his words come out through stuttered breaths, fucking into wooseok at a brutal pace.
“younie,” wooseok’s eyes squeeze shut, and seungyoun groans into his neck at the whimper of his name, “please, daddy, m’close.”
seungyoun practically growls, moving the hand gripping finger-shaped bruises into his hip to wrap around wooseok’s cock. if he was already close despite the only friction being his shirt brushing against his cock, now he’s babbling, seungyoun’s hand stroking him at the same pace as his thrusts.
“please, please, f-fuck, oh, younie, i’m- please,” wooseok’s deep voice can get reasonably high, and right now, he can hear how high-pitched and whiny he sounds, the tips of his ears tinged pink.
seungyoun seems to exhale in a light laugh, fingers tightening around wooseok’s cock, his eyes rolling back.
“please, what, kitten?” seungyoun’s hips don’t falter, the slapping of skin filling the room along with their various noises, “ask properly, and i’ll think about it.”
wooseok’s forehead falls forward to rest against the wall, a little sob coming from him as he can feel his orgasm approaching, and his lips don’t stop moving.
“please, may i- may i please come, please, i’ll.. i’ll do anything, please, younie.”
“again.”
seungyoun practically spits out the word, and wooseok obeys.
he doesn’t stop pleading, seungyoun asking for it again, and again, until wooseok is crying, tears falling down his cheeks as he begs, body shaking as he tries to keep from coming.
“god, you’re so fucking good,” seungyoun sounds near animalistic, growling out the words, and wooseok loves when he loses it like this, gets drunk on the power he holds over him, “begging for me like a good little pet.”
“you wanna come for me?” seungyoun asks, and though wooseok begs again, nodding, he asks again, “you wanna come on my cock?”
“please, been so good, please, daddy.”
seungyoun moans into his ear, nips at his lobe and finally, finally— “come, kitten. come for me, sweetheart.”
and god, the orgasm rips through him like nothing else, shudder rippling down his spine as wooseok’s knees go weak, stars burning inside of him and fireworks going off behind his shut eyes.
wooseok lets out a pitiful whimper when he feels the warmth of seungyoun releasing inside of him, knowing that he’d have to keep it in on the walk out and the ride home.
oh, god. the walk out. the ride home.
they’re in a restaurant bathroom.
he can’t seem to regret it, though, not when seungyoun is peppering kisses along the span of his shoulder, holding him upright with his clean hand flat over his abdomen.
he’s whispering praises to wooseok, telling him what a good boy he is, how gorgeous he is when he comes, how he listens so well, and wooseok feels like the luckiest person in the entire world.