Work Text:
"You're so cute when you're sleepy like this."
The ride home from Hongjoong's dentist appointment feels like it takes two hours. Part of his mouth is numb, his limbs are shaky from the epinephrine in the Novocaine, and his brain is moving just a bit too slowly for his liking.
He blinks over at Yeosang behind the wheel of the car and smiles. "Mmm. Tired."
He tries to sleep. It works for half the car ride, but his skin still feels itchy with excitement, and his throat is tight.
Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he rolls over onto his side to watch Yeosang while he drives them home.
"How did it go? Did it hurt?"
Hongjoong shakes his head but whines anyway. It's not often that he gets to soften up like this, so his brain really likes to grab the opportunities when they present themselves. It’s nice to feel coddled. He allows himself to soak in Yeosang’s care.
“It didn’t hurt too bad, but my jaw is a little achy.”
He pauses for a moment to look away from Yeosang and back out the front window of the vehicle. There are a lot of words and thoughts tumbling around in his head. He wants to say them all, but he isn’t sure how to say them. It’s not exactly something he’s ever had to tell someone before. He’s been single for ages. Yeosang is his first real boyfriend. How would he react? Should Hongjoong just keep his mouth shut?
“Just spit it out, Hongjoong. I can tell there’s something on your mind.”
They’re at a red light, so Yeosang is looking over at him with concern. He reaches out to place a gentle hand on Hongjoong’s knee. When the light turns green, he squeezes the skin over Hongjoong’s kneecap, smiles encouragingly, and turns back to watch the road.
He’s just so…soft. If Hongjoong is honest with himself, he knows he used to “date” the wrong kind of guys. For some reason, the brain likes to draw people to the wrong kind of people for them. Hongjoong’s did, at least. For the most part, he doesn’t miss those kinds of guys. The rough types. The mean guys. He loves Yeosang. He really does.
But sometimes…
“I actually kinda like going to the dentist,” Hongjoong admits. He’s testing the waters. Depending on what Yeosang says in response, he might just nip this confession in the bud.
There’s a distant buzzing in the back of his head that makes it hard for him to focus on Yeosang’s response, the way his low voice seems to pitch lower as he asks, “Really? Why’s that?”
Hongjoong pulls his knees up even more and balls up in the passenger seat. Maybe if he shrinks himself to the size of an ant, it’ll help him understand why Yeosang’s serious voice sometimes makes him feel so small.
It’s not a bad thing. It really isn’t. For Hongjoong, sometimes feeling small is the greatest honor. He relishes the feeling.
“Um, it’s…I don’t know. Ah, never mind. Forget I said anything.”
Gone is the bravery, and in its place comes the ever-present second-guessing.
They hit another red light.
Yeosang’s hand, which had previously been on Hongjoong’s knee, lands a little higher this time. Closer to the meat of his inner thigh. It’s difficult for Hongjoong to hold in the breathy sigh that seems to be stuck in his cheeks. He holds it there, though. Nearly holds his breath entirely.
He startles when Yeosang’s voice is suddenly right beside his ear, “It’s okay. You can tell me.”
The light turns green. The hand returns to the steering wheel. Hongjoong’s voice is shaky when he tries again, “I just kinda like the process. It’s calming to me. And I always get a lot of compliments on my teeth. And how well I follow dir—”
They’re not at a stop light, but Yeosang’s head whips to the side to examine Hongjoong for a few seconds anyway. He’s smiling that secret smile that makes Hongjoong feel equal parts enamored and intimidated.
Yeosang looks back at the road, but his hand comes back to land on the top of Hongjoong’s thigh. “What else do you like about it?”
“Ah—” Hongjoong pauses, suddenly nervous. He swallows hard and tries to think of how much to give away.
“I said you can tell me, Hongjoong. It’s okay. You can trust me.”
Even though Yeosang is watching the road, it still feels like those dark eyes are roaming all over Hongjoong’s body. They’ve been intimate quite a bit in their short relationship, obviously, but it’s been pretty simple stuff. It’s early days. He’s still trying to figure out the things that make Yeosang tick. The things that make him twist and groan and sigh like Hongjoong is the world’s greatest cryptographer and Yeosang is the world’s most interesting code to crack.
He straightens up in his seat with Yeosang’s reassurance and turns on his side again to watch Yeosang’s expression as he speaks. The action makes Yeosang’s hand slide further between his thighs. Yeosang’s big hand is warm and strong, the long fingers digging into the sensitive flesh of Hongjoong’s inner leg like he’s holding on for dear life.
“They were fitting me for a mouthguard today…for when I sleep. You know how I grind my teeth at night?”
Yeosang smiles and nods, his fingers flexing on the clothed length of Hongjoong’s thigh.
Hongjoong swallows hard and lets the memory surround him. That strange, floaty itch resurfaces along his skin when he describes the scenario, “It’s not a very long process, but it is a bit invasive. The dentist had to put this hard plastic wand in my mouth to take scans of all my teeth and the way my jaws come together.”
“Mhm,” Yeosang stops at a red light and glances over to catch Hongjoong’s eye. He doesn’t keep eye contact for long, though, his gaze passing over Hongjoong’s flushed cheeks. The burning skin of his visible chest.
When the light turns green again, Hongjoong feels like his whole body is on fire. “He had to push the wand pretty far back into my mouth. It was a little rough. A strange mixture of achy and, um, I don’t know…”
“Full?” Yeosang’s voice is too low. It’s threateningly low. The sound makes something wild and violent spring up in the base of Hongjoong’s chest.
He can barely manage to get the words out in response, “Yeah. Full.”
“And what else?”
Hongjoong feels Yeosang’s words like dull nails on his tense scalp. They drip like warm wax against his chilled limbs.
He continues, “When he’s doing it, he tells me how it’s going. He tells me how well I’m doing. It’s weird, right? How much I like that? The mixture of the wand pressing down on my gums and cheeks and tongue and the sound of his voice reassuring me from far away. I can barely hear his words over the sound in my head while it’s happening.”
“The sound?” There’s definitely something in Yeosang’s tone now. He still sounds like he’s almost teasing Hongjoong, but there’s a certain wistfulness to his words.
Hongjoong hangs on tight for this part. “It’s like this calming gray cloud of nothing. Something about the situation puts my mind and body at ease. Being told what to do, the feeling of the thing being done to me…being told I’m doing well.”
The words soak into the leather and plastic of the car slowly. It’s almost as if they’ve taken shape like floaty clouds of their own. It’s all Hongjoong can focus on for the next minute or so while Yeosang absorbs his confession in silence.
By the time they reach Yeosang’s house, Hongjoong has fallen asleep. The conversation drained what little mental ability he had left after the dentist visit. When he wakes up, he’s in Yeosang’s bed with two strong arms wrapped around him as he sleeps.
It’s dark now, so he must have slept for a while. He doesn’t remember going into the house, so Yeosang must’ve carried him.
And doesn’t that fact make Hongjoong feel like exploding into little bits of sparkly dust all over the bedroom floor?
He doesn’t get up for a while. He doesn’t even move. He just lets the feeling of Yeosang surround him and falls in and out of unconsciousness while the sound of Yeosang’s sleepy breath in his ear lulls him back to sleep.
***
The confession almost feels like a dream to Hongjoong. He swears it happened, but he had been so out of it after the appointment that he could’ve made it up entirely. Yeosang certainly hadn’t brought it up again since it happened.
They go back to the same old routine. Hongjoong doesn’t mind it one bit. He’s glad he worked up the bravery to admit his feelings to Yeosang, but opening up about feelings had always been difficult for Hongjoong. Especially if they were sexual in nature. He wasn’t naturally sexually inclined. If anything, he only really felt sexually attracted to people after a whole lot of hard work and bonding.
He is very sexually attracted to Yeosang, though. It’s not an ‘if’ or a ‘maybe’ with him. Yeosang knows exactly how to make Hongjoong feel good. It seems almost intuitive to Yeosang. He knows all the right places to touch, all the right words to say. Even when he’s just lounging around on the couch eating baby carrots and laughing at the worst sitcom Hongjoong has ever seen, he’s luminous.
Sometimes, Hongjoong thinks to himself, “There’s no way Yeosang can get hotter.”
But then he does.
It happens on a Tuesday night out of nowhere. Of course, it does. Yeosang is nothing if not completely random in most areas of life. They’re getting ready for bed like they always do. Hongjoong had decided to stay the night at Yeosang’s place earlier in the evening to avoid the tiring drive home after a long day of shopping and working out, so they’re both in boxers and old band shirts standing at the sink together. Yeosang’s phone is playing some calming ambient music to get them ready for bed.
It’s nice. It’s domestic. Hongjoong can’t believe how lucky he is.
When he’s done washing his face, he reaches out to grab his toothbrush, but Yeosang grabs his wrist before he can reach it.
“Allow me.”
It’s just two small words. Tiny words. Little baby words. Hongjoong’s entire nervous system starts to spark like he’s just been proposed to.
He clears his throat nervously and nods his compliance.
Yeosang smiles and reaches for the medicine cabinet above the sink instead. Hongjoong is glad there’s calming music playing because he feels like Yeosang would be able to hear every long, strong beat of his heart while he waits. He watches Yeosang grab a shiny new box of nitrile gloves from the cabinet.
It doesn’t take all that long for Yeosang to rip open the box one-handed to pull out two fresh gloves, but it feels like time has slowed down while Hongjoong watches him put them on. Gloves. He even got the gloves. They’re so new and tight, and they smell so good, and Hongjoong can feel his mouth start to water when Yeosang’s long fingers slide into place in the gloves so perfectly.
So perfect. So warm.
Hongjoong squirms where he stands.
“Sit on the edge of the tub while I get everything ready, okay?”
“Mhm,” Hongjoong replies softly. He turns around and takes a seat on the edge of the tub. Watching Yeosang flex his fingers in the light purple stretchy material of the gloves has Hongjoong’s head swimming with anticipation. What’s going to happen next? Is Yeosang into this? Will Hongjoong himself even like it?
Yeosang squirts some toothpaste onto the brush and walks over to the tub at a leisurely pace, his eyes never once leaving Hongjoong’s face. It’s a soothing maneuver that never fails to leave Hongjoong feeling unequivocally seen . When Yeosang reaches the tub, he walks his way between Hongjoong’s knees and stops just shy of his stomach bumping into Hongjoong’s nose.
With one hand, he strokes the soft edge of Hongjoong’s jaw while addressing him, “I’m going to brush your teeth. Simple, right? Just keep your mouth lax for me, and I’ll do all the work. Sound good?”
Before the words are fully out of Yeosang’s mouth, Hongjoong is complying. His jaw hangs limp in waiting for Yeosang’s next move. The drool that had previously been forming in Hongjoong’s cheeks feels like a steady pool just under his lax tongue. He wonders how quickly the pool will double and spill out over his lower lip to drip into his lap below.
The second Yeosang’s gloved thumb runs between his lower lip and his front teeth—he realizes it won’t take long at all. The sensation is brief but rewarding in its tenderness. It allows Hongjoong to adjust to the warmth and firmness of Yeosang’s gloved finger in his mouth. It helps Yeosang move forward with a task that he’s probably never had to do for another person in his life.
Yeosang withdraws his hand to cup Hongjoong’s jaw again then gets to work.
Starting with the bottom row, Yeosang moves the toothbrush across each of Hongjoong’s teeth multiple times. Front, tops, and backs. The hard plastic of the brush digs into Hongjoong’s gums and inner cheeks awkwardly, but that’s exactly what he wants. He loves the clumsiness of Yeosang’s inexperienced hand. The taste of the medicinal nitrile glove on his tongue when the drool gets to be too much, and Yeosang can barely keep a hold of the brush between his fingers.
Hongjoong groans around the intrusion, his cock stiffening in his shorts as Yeosang’s actions grow rougher and rougher. Making sure not to miss a spot. Being daring enough to push the brush further and further back on Hongjoong’s tongue to make him gag on it. The sound of his own raspy choking makes that special veil of soothing gray fall over his thoughts finally. And at the same time, he watches Yeosang’s length fill out even further in his shorts in response to the wet sounds Hongjoong is making.
It’s probably unsanitary to do anything in a bathroom, but something about the uncleanliness of the act makes Hongjoong even hornier. He’s doing something in a place he shouldn’t. They’re taking an act that should only be done for sanitary purposes and making it undeniably filthy.
After over two minutes of rough brushing, Yeosang pushes Hongjoong’s head to the side and forces it down to hang over the edge of the tub.
“Spit.”
Hongjoong aches. He moans and unloads his mouth’s contents onto the tiled floor beneath them.
“Rinse.”
Yeosang tugs Hongjoong’s hair until he’s facing forward again and presses a small plastic cup of water to his gaping mouth. He sips at it then swishes the contents in his mouth and holds it there. While he’s sitting there waiting, Yeosang watches him with a shrewd expression. Like he’s seeing way further into Hongjoong than either of them had anticipated when they started this adventure.
Once again, Hongjoong feels unbearably seen .
“Spit.”
Hongjoong doesn’t need to be directed this time. He spits the used water onto the ground easily then turns back around to look Yeosang in the eye. His partner runs that same gentle hand down his neck and squeezes the muscle that runs above his collarbone. The touch is soaked with soft encouragement.
“You did so well. Thank you for letting me help you.”
Instead of replying, Hongjoong smiles at him in a hazy way and nods.
“Go to the bedroom, and take off your clothes, okay? And keep the light off.”
Hongjoong nods again and heads for the bedroom.
He’s not really sure what Yeosang has in store, but he’s pretty sure he’s never been this hard in his life. As he waits on the bed, he runs gentle fingers over his aching length to ease the strain it's having on his brain. He feels like the room around him warps each time his stiff cock pulses under his fingertips.
It’s dizzying. The night feels heavy with something fresh and electric.
Eventually, Yeosang joins him on the bed. He can’t see Yeosang at all, but he can feel it when his partner slides into bed beside him.
“C’mere.”
Rougher hands than before grab at Hongjoong’s sensitive skin. He’s being pulled, maneuvered, and tugged into Yeosang’s lap without any warning. It’s something he’s wanted for so long, but he didn’t want to seem weird. He was afraid to admit how badly he wanted those soft fingers to be hard. How badly he wished that Yeosang wouldn’t hold back with him.
Hongjoong wanted to feel Yeosang all over him for days.
He likes the reminders. He loves waking up with the inside of his briefs drenched and the pale skin of his arms and hips muddied with beautiful bruises. Though he’s ashamed of his desires at times, he knows there’s nothing wrong with them. But Yeosang had always seemed so reserved. So quiet. So careful with Hongjoong at all times.
He’s not being careful now.
Yeosang is stripped bare save for the nitrile gloves from before. Hongjoong knows this because Yeosang doesn’t hesitate to stuff two of those gloved fingers right back into his mouth the moment he’s comfortably loaded into Yeosang’s waiting lap. Strong quads, hard abs, stiff cock jerking up against Hongjoong’s ass above it. The feeling of all the parts of Yeosang sliding up against his own body makes him want to weep with excitement.
When Yeosang tugs him forward with two fingers working like a hook in his cheek, Hongjoong moans unabashedly. The sound rings out through the bedroom, causing Hongjoong to feel another zing of anticipation at what’s to come. “Open wide.”
Hongjoong complies immediately, his tongue lolling out as his jaw unhinges. The toothbrush from before slips into his open mouth, but this time it’s the smooth side not the one with the bristles. Though his instincts tell him to close his lips around the object so he can suck on it, he keeps his mouth wide open until Yeosang instructs him to do otherwise.
“So good. Do you like it? Feels good, right? Bet you wish it was something a little bigger though, right?”
“Hhhmpphh—” Hongjoong attempts to reply, but it’s a little difficult with his mouth wide open and a hard piece of plastic pressing down on the back of his tongue. It feels incredible. And when Yeosang starts moving that hard plastic around inside his mouth, stretching his cheeks and bumping into his teeth and gums with it, he can’t help himself. His hips start to roll forward on their own, seeking some semblance of relief from the unbearable ache between his legs.
Yeosang moans, too, as Hongjoong rolls his hips forward in search of relief. It’s not the most comfortable position for them, especially without something to make the slide easier, but it’s enough to make them both loud with want and fulfillment.
After a whole lot of exploration, Yeosang starts feeling around on their bedside table for something. It makes them slide together even better, causing Hongjoong to moan around the object in his mouth. Slick spit spills from the corners of his lips as he humps against Yeosang’s groin with little to no thoughts in his head. Just feels good. Just loves the way the hard plastic in his mouth feels as it presses against the back of his tongue.
A rush of emptiness rushes through Hongjoong when Yeosang slides the soaked brush from his mouth, but Yeosang only hushes him and leans forward to kiss him. It’s a slow, soft kiss. Increasingly wet with all the drool from Hongjoong’s mouth, but neither of them seems to notice or mind. Hongjoong can tell that Yeosang is doing something with his hands, but his mind feels all stuffed with strawberry cotton clouds, so he doesn’t really think too much about it while he’s kissed even dumber.
Eventually, the pieces all fall into place. Yeosang leans back and slides a few gloved fingers into Hongjoong’s mouth. The sudden feeling of fullness pulls a raw whine from somewhere deep in Hongjoong’s lungs. He fucks his stiff cock forward against the hard planes of Yeosang’s stomach as those long fingers slide along his tongue and teeth without thought.
Then he feels the dull tip of the toothbrush, still slick with spit but also soaked with lube, brush down the crack of his ass until it slides against his fully exposed hole. When he registers the feeling, Hongjoong moans even louder around the fingers in his mouth. The fingers just push in even further in response.
Before he can even process what’s happening, the object is pushing inside of him in time with the fingers fucking the hole of his soaked mouth. The feeling of so much weight inside of him tears his mind open. He fucks himself back onto the object in Yeosang’s hand just as his mouth tightens around the fingers pressing down on his slippery tongue.
Hongjoong has always prided himself on his stamina. He’s a rider, for sure. If there’s anything he’s sure of, it’s his ability to make anyone cum before he even thinks about finishing.
But all the sensations happening at once…the hard plastic fucking in and out of his ass…the rough fingers plunging deeper and deeper, nearly bumping into the back of his throat… Yeosang’s grinding his own hips upward to get some relief against the slick skin of Hongjoong’s ass and thighs.
Hongjoong cums without warning, a steady stream of white soaking the space between their bodies. The sounds he’s making…it’s lewd. Nearly keening. Begging. Whining and choking around the fingers in his mouth as he rides out the orgasm that has his stomach and thighs tensing like never before.
Yeosang slips the toothbrush out of Hongjoong before rolling him onto his back. Hongjoong’s head is propped up on a few pillows, and without another word, Yeosang shuffles forward to slip his cock between Hongjoong’s slick lips.
He knows Hongjoong can take it. It almost feels like he has been testing the waters with his fingers in his mouth all night.
Hongjoong gets all of his wishes at once. Yeosang isn’t small. He fucks into the tight heat of Hongjoong’s mouth with abandon, his hips snapping forward like he wants his partner to end up at urgent care by daybreak. It’s honestly not a problem for Hongjoong, though. If anything, this is exactly what he’s been wanting for ages.
He sinks back into the pillows behind him, at ease, with each deep plunge of Yeosang’s length into his waiting mouth. His eyes cross in hopes of catching a glimpse of his partner in the darkness, but they use blackout curtains for a reason. Both of them are so sensitive to the light.
Hongjoong can picture him, though. He can imagine the strong edge of Yeosang’s brow bright with slick sweat as he rolls those smooth hips forward to fuck into the tight clutch of Hongjoong’s throat. He can almost taste the salty tang of heat that emanates from Yeosang’s every pore.
The taste of him, the smell of him, the sound.
When Yeosang cums, he pulls out to spill on Hongjoong’s lips and cheeks. Jerking himself off over Hongjoong’s face while moaning low in his throat. The imagined sight of it has Hongjoong’s length twitching in a valiant attempt to go again. To never stop going. To go until every part of him feels full for weeks to come.
But he’s only human, and he knows his brain has a way of aggrandizing rough sex acts in his mind when he actually quite likes slow, vanilla sex most of the time.
Yeosang seems to know that too. Every second after he cums is a de-escalation tactic heavy with love and attention. Too many kisses, so many cuddles.
Hongjoong sleeps way too late the next day, but Yeosang lets him. When he wakes, it’s to warm honey tea and soft porridge that is easy on the throat.
***
They don’t do it again for a while. Yeosang liked it, but he explains that it isn’t something he wants to make a habit of with Hongjoong. Because even though Hongjoong loves it, he knows it’s just a special occasion thing. And he plans to treat it as such whenever he can.
So when they go to Hongjoong’s friends’ house for a Christmas party, and all he gets from Yeosang is an electric toothbrush in a plain paper bag for his gift…he endures the jokes from his friends about his cheap boyfriend.
Because he knows how special the gift really is. Even better than a gold Cartier cuff, if you ask him.