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Jisung’s body is soft and warm as Chan peels back his duvet. The hot sting of need festers inside of Chan’s throat, coming out as a quiet curse as he looks at Jisung’s slack mouth, cheek mashed against the back of his hand as he breathes deeply in his sleep.
The pliant body beneath him doesn’t stir as Chan pushes up the hem of Jisung’s baggy tee shirt, exposing his lower back and the view of his mussed up shorts. They’re loose, rolled once at the top and skewed enough to reveal the little curve of Jisung’s ass cheek, accentuated from the way his leg is lifted up to the side. Chan can’t resist the urge to slide his hand up it, tugging it further to reveal Jisung’s ass, bare underneath.
It takes almost nothing for Chan’s cock to stir in his sweats, eager at the thought of finding a warm, wet hole to fuck, desperate to seek out the give of Jisung’s body, to force a space for himself somewhere slick and hot and tight.
He doesn’t say anything as he shuffles closer on his knees, hunkering down over Jisung’s body to press a kiss to the corner of his open mouth. Jisung’s breath is hot and damp when he exhales against Chan’s lips, and Chan can’t stop himself from taking more, trapping Jisung’s lip between his own for a wet kiss before licking past his teeth into his mouth.
Jisung doesn’t kiss back, doesn’t even stir, so deeply asleep that Chan feels a brief pang of envy storm in his chest. But it makes him easy, so easy, when Chan reaches for the bedside table to pull out the lube and rushes to wet his fingers to press two of them inside Jisung’s greedy hole the second he gets his shorts rucked down over his ass.
He takes it well, with not a trace of tension in him as he opens up for Chan so beautifully. Nosing at his jaw, his ear, Chan murmurs praise into the side of Jisung’s throat. He gives no indication, but Chan hopes that maybe he can feel how much he appreciates him, even in his dreams.
He doesn’t move at all as Chan fingers him open, not even when he presses a third in, spreading his fingers wide to stretch his taut rim.
Jisung only stirs when Chan is tugging his cock out from his sweats. He twitches and then groans softly. His body turns, like he’s going to roll over, but Chan reaches to hold him steady by the hip. “Stay put,” he says, quiet but firm. “Hyung wants to use you.”
It dawns on Jisung when Chan fits the head of his dick up against his wet rim. He blinks blearily, mumbling as a furrow fits itself between his brows. “Nhwait…” He looks over his shoulder, eyes squinting in the dim light through his sheer curtains as he tries to force himself into waking.
Chan just hushes him softly, leaning back down to kiss at his cheek. “It’s okay, baby. It’s just hyung.”
Jisung sighs, his mouth making a tacky, wet sound as he tries to work more words out of his throat. Nothing comes, just a deep breath, and then his eyes are shutting again. Chan takes it as his green light to push inside.
It makes Jisung gasp, and his body tenses up with just the tip of Chan’s cock in him. “No, hyung, don’t,” he mumbles, words so slurred they’re almost too difficult to make out. “‘M tired…”
Chan bites at his lower lip, trying to contain the arousal burning in his veins. “It’s just the tip, baby, yeah?” he says, kissing at Jisung’s ear, nipping at the silver hoop dangling in his lobe. Jisung shudders under the attention, shoulder pitching up. He nods, and Chan has to wonder if he’d even understood what he’d said to him.
It doesn’t matter. Jisung loves to be used, and Chan wants nothing more than to use him. He rocks against him slowly, reaching down to wrap his thumb and finger around the length of his shaft as the head is squeezed snugly by Jisung’s walls.
It’s good – it’s so good – until it’s not enough, and Chan finds himself nudging closer, sinking just a bit deeper into Jisung’s hole. He groans in protest, but it’s all too easy. Chan doesn’t go too far, just that little bit more, and Jisung babbles against his pillow, “No more, n’more…”
“Okay, baby, no more, promise,” Chan agrees easily. Just that little inch Jisung had given him was worth it; it’ll be enough for him to get off, to come right inside him, paint his insides hot and slick until the very fiber of his being smells like Chan.
Chan presses his body closer to Jisung’s, grunting from the effort of holding himself just above him for so long, with sweat beading at his temples. Jisung hums under the weight of Chan’s body, his arms curled up and tucked underneath him as Chan rocks into him from behind.
“So good to me, Jisungie,” Chan mutters, kissing at Jisung’s temple, his cheek, his jaw. Jisung hums in response, tilting his head to give Chan the room to nibble at his neck, to drag his tongue over his skin, creased from how he’s laying.
Bearing his weight on one elbow, Chan uses his other hand to drag his fingers up under Jisung’s shirt. His skin is always so soft, and he’s so warm – liked he’d be flushed, even on his back, his asscheeks, if Chan were to turn on the lights and look at him.
Gripping at Jisung’s cheek, tugging it to the side to just think about sinking his cock into him fully, Chan works himself up. He imagines what Jisung would let him do to him if he were awake, pictures how he’d brace himself against the headboard in order to fuck back onto Chan’s cock, needy and desperate to be filled. “Fuck,” Chan grunts.
It’s slow and quiet and damp between them as Chan takes his time with the little room he has to grind into Jisung. Chan’s imagination runs rampant with thoughts of how much he could do while Jisung dozes on. He finds himself wondering if he could use Jisung’s mouth instead. Or maybe he could move so slowly that he could work his whole fist into him before he wakes. How many times could he come inside him before the feeling of it leaking out would rouse him from sleep?
With a deep whine, Jisung tenses under him. At first, Chan stills, ready to hold Jisung in place, to guide him back where he wants him to chase his orgasm, but Jisung’s hips knock back, and his hole swallows another inch of Chan’s cock.
A growl shudders up Chan’s throat, and he stills Jisung’s movements as he bites at his ear. “I thought you only wanted the tip, baby, no more,” Chan says, and it comes out half-taunting and half-breathless.
Jisung shakes his head, burrowing into his arms as he folds them underneath his face. “Uh-uh, wan’ more,” he slurs. He tries to lift his hips, to get Chan to fuck him deeper, but it’s difficult with his shorts around his thighs and Chan’s body pinning him down.
Chan just hums, tonguing at the hollow beneath Jisung’s ear. “Mmm… but I promised you, just the tip, huh? ‘Cause you’re so tired…” He tries to tease, but he sounds over-eager even to his own ears.
With a loud huff, Jisung tries to glare at him over his shoulder. Then, either delirious or just as willing to taunt as Chan is, he says, “Please, daddy…”
Chan’s spine aches from how fiercely he tenses; his hand cramps where it clutches at Jisung’s criminally thin waist. He feels lightheaded with arousal. He wants so badly to make Jisung beg more, force him to say it again, his voice thick and deep from sleep.
But Chan is simple – has always been easy for Jisung. He slides home with a low groan until his hip bones bite into Jisung’s cheeks. “Fuck, baby– I’ll give it to you. Daddy’s gonna give you whatever you want, baby.”
Jisung’s answering sigh is content and thrumming with pleasure as he rocks back against Chan. “Thank you, daddy,” he mumbles, and Chan can’t take it anymore. He tucks his other arm under Jisung’s chest and hauls them both upright. He sits back on his heels and drags Jisung’s listless body into his lap so he can bury himself even deeper and snap his next thrust upward into Jisung’s open hole.
Jisung’s head rolls before falling back against Chan’s shoulder as he moans loudly in his ear. He’s so limp, like a fucked out little doll that Chan has to drag up and down on his cock. Just an oversized fleshlight, but so much better – warmer, more malleable, eager to please.
The sound of Jisung’s ass hitting Chan’s hips on every violent thrust is loud in the quiet of the night, but Chan can’t think past the need to come, past the desire to hear Jisung beg him to touch him, to plead – daddy, please let me come, please. Chan’s eyes roll as he tucks his face into the side of Jisung’s neck, needy teeth at his skin, staking his claim.
“Fuh-feels good,” Jisung says, voice gaining just a bit of strength as he reaches back, fisting his hand in Chan’s hair to keep them tangled as close together as possible. “W’na come, daddy – please make me come,” he gasps.
Chan would love to drag it out. He wants to deny him over and over and over until he’s begging for release, tears wetting his pretty lashes and face blotted red from desperation. But Chan has no mettle, no will to push past his own burning arousal. He wants to tip right over the edge into oblivion and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t drag Jisung with him.
“Yeah, baby, come on,” he grunts, dragging his hands up Jisung’s abdomen to his chest, cupping his pretty pecs before pinching at both nipples, flicking his thumbs over them as Jisung shifts, trying to get the perfect angle to fuck Chan’s cock right into his sweet spot.
“Oh!” he gasps, fingers tightening in Chan’s hair, and his other hand clutching at Chan’s forearm. “Yes, yeah– yes, yes, yes!” His volume pitches upward as he chases his peak, and Chan keeps his pace, driving up into him as he feels Jisung’s hole flutter. “Oh, fuck.” The word is drawn out as Jisung comes. His legs tremble and his hands fall away from Chan so suddenly that he worries Jisung has passed out, but he keeps moaning as Chan holds him tight and drives into him.
Without a word, Chan pushes Jisung back down face-first into the mattress and tugs his hips up until Jisung settles his knees under himself. He has no strength left in him, but he turns his head so he can breathe as Chan drags him back by the hips to fuck him. “Just a bit more, baby,” Chan says sweetly, panting as he focuses on the tight clench of Jisung’s wet hole,
“M’kay, i’s’okay, daddy. You c’n use me,” Jisung mumbles, eyes shut and mouth slack against his pillow.
He’s so good. Chan’s boy is so, so good for him that it makes him crazy. With his eyes pinched shut and his brow furrowed, Chan comes, grinding every last drop of his climax into Jisung, who takes it all so eagerly and never once complains.
As soon as pleasure stops fizzing through his veins, Chan pulls out carefully and helps to ease Jisung’s hips back down. He leans over Jisung, reaching to push his hair from his sleep-puffy face. “Y’okay, Jisungie?”
Jisung hums, eyes fluttering like they’re trying to open again. “Kiss?”
Chan grins, ducking his head to be able to give Jisung a kiss. It’s wet and sloppy, Jisung’s lips lazy and slow to respond, but Chan doesn’t mind. In fact, he likes it when Jisung is supple and pliant like this, letting Chan take, take, take.
“Gotta clean you up, so you can get back to sleep,” Chan says. Jisung’s reply is low and wordless, which makes Chan crack a fond smile.
By the time Chan is pressing his tongue to Jisung’s loose rim, Jisung is already snoring lightly. Chan doesn’t mind that either, happy to lick out his own cum while Jisung slips blissfully back into unconsciousness. His rim is pleasantly loose, opening under the press of Chan’s tongue, even easier for his fingers when they slip back inside to toy with his used prostate.
Jisung doesn’t move when his cock twitches and dribbles over the already soiled sheets, and Chan is burning with the need to know how many times he can make Jisung come before he wakes up again.