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Wooyoung gasps at the fuzzy pair of ears on the table. One of ATINY must have brought them, and he knew they were for him. He grins, plucking them off the table and sliding them onto his head. They match his hair perfectly .
“Sannie, look!”
The older gives him a knowing smile. “Cute.”
Halfway through the fan meeting, Wooyoung is worked up. He can’t seem to keep his hands to himself.
San knows it’s because of those damn ears.
At one point, Wooyoung locks eyes with him and starts pulling one of the thin white straps down his shoulder, showing more bare skin than was already on display. San probably wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but it was the second time in the span of twenty minutes that he had done it.
San reaches out and smacks his shoulder, scolding him. Little brat.
It only gets worse from there, really. “Look how well they match my hair, Sannie.”
“They’re very pretty,” San agrees.
“You don’t like them?”
San turns away from the group of ATINY and shoots him a look. “Behave.”
Wooyoung just smirks. He smirks because he knows he looks good in the headpiece, and he knows San loves it.
They don’t sit next to each other when it’s time to talk to the fans, but he hears Wooyoung ask the girl who confessed to bringing them if he could keep them. Of course, she says yes, so at the end of the event, he’s beaming, ears tucked away in his bag for safe keeping.
“Another pair for the collection,” Wooyoung whispers in the car on their way home, a satisfied little smile on his lips.
As soon as they get back to the dorm, they order dinner and lock themselves in their room. It’s still technically San and Yunho’s room, but no one remembers the last time Yunho actually slept in there. They change into comfortable clothes, Wooyoung in loose cotton shorts and one of San’s shirts, San in sweats and a tank top.
“Well?” San asks, one eyebrow raised.
Wooyoung unzips his bag and picks the ears up, then he kneels and pulls a container out from under the bed. The bin is full of Wooyoung’s favorite, most used plugs. San watches him hold one tail up to the new pair of ears. He makes a dissatisfied face and puts it down, grabs another to compare. And another.
“None of them are right,” Wooyoung whines. “The color is off.”
San hums, making himself comfortable on their bed, back against the headboard. “Looks like we’ll have to get another then, hm?”
Wooyoung nods from the ground, looking up at San through his lashes with wide eyes and a pout on his lips. They had established earlier on that they wouldn’t be able to actually fuck until comeback promotions slowed down, but that’s not going to stop them from having fun.
“Sannie will get you one. Come here. Just the ears will be good enough for now, right?”
He nods quickly, slipping the ears on his head and getting on the bed, straddling San’s thighs. San grips his hips through the thin fabric and tugs him closer until there isn’t an inch of space between them. They’re both half hard from the sheer anticipation of being alone together after being in public all day, so the actual physical contact sends them into a frenzy. Their kisses are sloppy, drool dripping down their chins and teeth bumping every so often.
Wooyoung rolls his hips forward, hands clamped on San’s shoulders, leaving half moon imprints on the skin. He groans, head tipped back, showing off the long column of his neck. San licks a stripe from the hollow of his collarbone to the knob where his jaw meets his throat, pulling a whimper out of the tiny fox on top of him.
San ruts upward, meeting Wooyoung’s hips in a slow, dirty circle, prompting a high whine from the younger. He shushes him, pulling him close by the nape of his neck. “Gotta be quiet, baby, the others are here.”
He tries to keep quiet by pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and biting down hard, but the constant grinding against his cock makes it so hard. It feels so good, especially when San’s hands are roaming everywhere on his body. He keens, gasping when San’s palm presses against the ink on his thigh, watching him run his thumb over the words marked on both of their bodies. “Sannie,” he groans quietly.
San wraps a strong arm around the small of Wooyoung’s back and flips them, the younger now flat on his back against the sheets, San’s knees on either sides of his hips, effectively keeping him in place. He licks his lips, pushes Wooyoung’s—his—shirt up, bunching it under his armpits, and runs his hands over the soft tummy underneath him, squeezing either side, before moving his soft fingers up Wooyoung’s chest, pausing to toy with each nipple until he’s squirming.
Wooyoung’s chest heaves with each breath, and he half-sighs, thinking San’s giving him a break when San dips his head down and rubs the flat of his tongue against the hard nubs. They’re already so sensitive from San’s deft fingers, but his tongue is another level of torture, wet and warm, making fast flicks now. Wooyoung runs his hands through San’s hair and tugs.
San lifts his head enough to make eye contact, sees the want and need in Wooyoung’s eyes and decides to be nice. He strokes Wooyoung’s hair and straightens the ears on top of his head, which had gone a little wonky from all his squirming. He shifts to the side and tugs Wooyoung’s shorts down—he's not wearing underwear, which at this point is pretty normal. His hard cock stands tall, deep red, almost purple at the very tip. “Does it hurt?” San asks, voice low.
The question and the tone of his voice makes Wooyoung whimper. It doesn’t hurt , but it will very soon if he doesn’t get to come. He shakes his head, wanting to be honest.
San hums. “That’s good. I don’t want my pretty little kit to suffer.” He presses open-mouthed kisses down his torso, sucking a mark over his right hip bone, kissing all the way down to the tattoo on his thigh. He hums again, opening his mouth wide and biting around their words.
Wooyoung moans. “Sannie. Need you to touch me.” San bites him again. “Please,” he chokes out.
“Oh baby, I’ll touch you. All you had to do was ask.”
He helps Wooyoung roll over onto his stomach, stuffing a pillow under his hips. The cool silk pillow case feels like heaven against his cock, heavy and hot between his legs. He feels himself leak against the fabric and grinds down, desperate for more friction.
San straddles Wooyoung’s hips and tugs his sweatpants down to his mid-thigh and leans forward, rubbing his cock against the cleft of Wooyoung’s cheeks. Both let out a moan, San’s low in his chest, Wooyoung’s high and throaty. San ruts against him a few times.
“Can you reach the lube, Youngie?”
Wooyoung feels like he can’t move at all, letting out a nonsensical smattering of syllables.
San laughs and stretches forward, pressing his chest to Wooyoung’s back to reach the bottle of lube in his bedside table drawer, pausing to nibble at his ear while he was close enough. Wooyoung moans again, hips moving against the pillow again. San smacks the side of his thigh. “You’re better than that, Young-ah.”
Wooyoung wants to cry. “Please touch me.”
“What do you think I was about to do?” He flicks the cap of the lube bottle open and squeezes some onto his fingers, rubbing them together for a few seconds, admiring the view in front of him. “If you’d been a little more patient, maybe I would have opened you up with my tongue, eaten you out nice and slow.”
It takes everything inside of him for Wooyoung not to fuck into the pillow. A tear rolls down his cheek and he makes a broken little noise, burying his face into the pillow under his head.
“Now,” San squeezes his hip, “I’m going to make you come with just my fingers. Would you like that, kit?”
Wooyoung moans, nodding frantically.
San rubs his slick fingers against Wooyoung’s rim, never pushing in, just circling, teasing his hole. “Then I’ll get myself off, make an absolute mess of you.”
“Please,” he whines.
San lets out a slow breath and dips the tip of his index finger inside. The man beneath him groans, trying to push his hips back for more. If it were that easy, San knows Wooyoung would get bored, so he just moves with him, pulling when he pushes.
Wooyoung sniffles, more tears flowing now.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
He whines, writhing underneath him. San presses a hand to the center of his back to keep him in place and slides the rest of his finger inside.
“Fuck.” Wooyoung is shaking, hips grinding against the pillow. After a few pumps, Wooyoung gasps a feeble request for more.
“You’re such a pretty little fox. My Wooyoungie.” San praises him while fitting a second finger beside the first, scissoring his fingers slowly, watching his rim stretch to accommodate the digits.
The red-head is a groaning mess, so worked up, but his body doesn’t know what it wants more—more fullness or more friction. His hips jerk, trying and failing to get both at the same time. Then San crooks his fingers inside, finding his prostate quickly and efficiently, fingers pressing against the nerves. He sobs, pushing back, mouth hanging open. San is relentless, not even fucking his fingers into him anymore, just rubbing circles around the spot until Wooyoung is shaking.
San chuckles and adds a third finger. He can’t get quite as deep with three, but he goes as far as he can before pulling almost the whole way out and stuffing them back inside again.
“Sannie, Sannie, please .”
He continues, speeding up a bit and pushing harder with each thrust in.
“I’m gonna come,” Wooyoung whines.
San slips one finger out and finds his prostate again, rubbing back and forth. “Come whenever you want, baby. You earned it.”
It’s only a matter of seconds before he’s making a mess of the silk below him. He digs his teeth into his forearm to try to keep himself quiet, and he hopes it helps at least a little, but he knows he’s still being too loud, letting moans fall out of his mouth.
Not giving him a second to breathe, San plants one hand in between Wooyoung’s shoulder blades, the other on the mattress next to his face. He squeezes more lube on his palm, slicks himself up, and leans forward, sliding easily between Wooyoung’s cheeks now, sawing back and forth between them. San’s cockhead catches on his rim, and he almost loses it. He lives for making Wooyoung fall apart, but he’d argue that it’s equally as tortuous for him.
The little noises Wooyoung makes beneath him push him closer to the edge. “Want you inside,” he gasps out.
“I know, baby. Me too.”
“Just fucking do it. Please . I’ll be fine for the comeback. I promise.”
San huffs out a breath, slowing his thrusts a bit. “We can’t. I’ll make it up to you.”
Wooyoung just whines, only used to getting what he wants. He shoves his hips back, trying to get San to slip inside.
San lifts his hand and brings it back down with a Slap! against the honeyed skin below him. “Behave, little fox.”
He lets himself moan too loudly, pressing his face back into the pillow as San fucks against him faster. He can tell when San gets close—his thrusts get jittery, off-tempo, so he props himself up on his elbows and looks back at him over his shoulder.
They lock eyes, and San groans, throwing his head back.
“Come on, Sannie.” Wooyoung licks his lips, a wicked gleam in his eyes, red ears standing tall on the crown of his head. “Want it. You promised.”
He comes with a low moan, painting Wooyoung ass and back with come. Wooyoung can feel it, warm against his skin. San rides out his orgasm, admiring the mess he made. Once he catches his breath, he scoops some of his come off Wooyoung’s back and brings his fingers to the younger’s lips. He sucks them clean, tongue swirling around each finger.
“I’m stiff,” Wooyoung says softly.
San quickly climbs off him. “I’ll grab a towel, one second.” He kisses Wooyoung’s temple and disappears into the bathroom, returning with a damp washcloth. Once he’s clean, Wooyoung stands up and stretches his arms above his head. San wraps his arms around his middle and pulls him into a hug, reaching up to slip the headband off his head before pressing soft kisses all over his face.
“Shower?” he asks.
Wooyoung smiles and nods. “Oh, but Sannie?”
“Yes, baby?”
“I still want a matching tail.”