Chapter Text
“Ah, hyung.”
Sunbae, Till’s mind instinctively supplies. It hasn’t been long since the honorific shift, anyway. Ivan’s worked hard for it (dutifully following Till’s every don’t just jab your fingers in there and please don’t slurp at me like a dog gnawing on chicken bones) and he supposes it’s okay to reward an obedient dog.
And on the topic of dog imagery… Ivan’s really looking the part. On set, he looks like those shiny guard/show dogs. Black hair coiffed to perfection, posture tall, and fang glinting under harsh lights. He only ever shows his underbelly when Till is in the picture; metaphorical tail wagging as Till waves treats in front of him in the form of validation and company.
Right now, he's a very sopping wet puppy. Shower wet and free from the clutches of styling gel, Ivan’s hair is wavy and messy. It’s a sight Till has the privilege to see every morning, and by now he also knows that it’s really fluffy. It’s like petting a labradoodle. Said puppy is towel drying his hair, sweatpants hanging low on bare hips. There’s something unnamed blooming in Till’s chest, seeing Ivan figuratively and literally in his own skin. Like cotton is filling up his heart and arteries.
Getting up from his perch on the bed, he moves to the edge and sits down. He beckons at Ivan, who tilts his head at him like a pup would at its owner. Like an unseen force, he is pulled by Till’s fingers. He’s trained so well Till doesn’t even need to tell him to kneel, his admittedly built body fitting snugly between Till’s knees. Cute puppy, he thinks as Ivan’s nuzzling at his inner thigh, right where his favorite mole is.
He pats Ivan’s fluffy head, receiving more earnest nuzzles. Till softly tugs at the locks, forcing big, black eyes to meet his. He hums. “Good puppies know what to do next, right?” as he spreads his legs.
“Woof.”
If Ivan was a husky, his tail would be wagging at 230 miles per hour. He dives in Till’s pussy like it’s a meal, licking a broad stripe from hole to clit and sucking. Till moans at the suction, toes curling at the motion of the tip of Ivan’s tongue circling the nub. Eating Till out was his favorite treat, something he would only give when Ivan finishes his scenes with one take. The first few times his pussy would get so sore from how hard Ivan sucks, even biting sometimes. Till suggested rectifying it by means of training, if for the sake of both of their prolonged pleasure.
Pussy eating training. Yeah. That’s what they’re doing right now. Ivan has moved down to his folds, caressing them in a zigzag motion. He looks up at Till, red eclipsing the black of his irises. They’re glossy with glee and horniness only Ivan is capable of. He really must be enjoying this, Till thinks. Sure enough, when he looks down, there’s a bottle sized tent on the front of Ivan’s sweatpants. A small stain already forming. He doesn’t know whether it was Ivan’s status as a former virgin, his eagerness, or a scary mix of both, but sometimes Ivan would finish untouched when eating Till out.
“Seeing and making Sunbae squirt is enough to make me cum ten times over,” Ivan cheerily admitted once, much to the dismay of Sua behind them. Till is professionally told to not bring personal affairs to dressing rooms. Ivan is told to wait after shooting. Till’s dildo hearing a secret story. He likes it whenever it’s visible that Ivan is totally affected by him. Pussy throbbing at flashes of stained pants and a cock barely restrained by fabric. He has half a mind to pull those pants down, and show Ivan the real way of getting off— his choice of hole. Alas, he knows the dangers of spoiling your dog with too many treats.
Yet the Ivan between his legs right now, the one panting and licking at his pussy like it's mandated by his company, is making him think Things. He tries toeing the line. Literally.
His foot nudges at Ivan’s bulge, cock twitching and leaking even more. Ivan bawdily moans into Till’s pussy, which ignites liquid fire in Till’s gut. He clenches down just in time for Ivan to dip his tongue into his hole, and Till squeaks.
Ivan, with the fervor of ten thousand puppies, licks into Till’s hole like a man starved. He thrusts his tongue in, a back and forth motion that makes Till feel gooey all over. He drags his tongue up his clit again, pressing the flat of it and moving in tight circles. Ah, that’s the new trick I taught him, Till says, eyes rolling back. Ivan grabs at his thighs, hoisting his legs on each shoulder. Till is dragged closer to Ivan’s mouth, his tongue desperately lapping at his slit.
“Hyungdoyoulikethisdoesitfeelgoodhyung,” Ivan’s question is obviously muffled by a mouthful of labia, and he gets his answer through Till grabbing the back of his head and rubbing Ivan’s face all over his pussy. Till moans loudly, using Ivan to get off. He grinds his clit on his nose, Ivan absolutely keening at the action. He’s having the time of his life, probably sniffing Till’s juices while he’s at it.
Till pulls Ivan by the hair, studying his face. He’s flushed, eyes unfocused and dilated. Till’s wet enough that the evidence is on Ivan’s face, slick smattering the lower half of his face including his nose. Ivan’s smiling in a fucked out, fully sated way. He probably came all over his Nike sweatpants.
“Open,” Till orders, his puppy eagerly obeying. Leaning down, Till spits a glob of saliva into Ivan’s waiting mouth. Ivan’s stunned and horny enough to lose his grip on Till’s thighs, setting them on the floor. This makes it possible for Till to stoop down and lick all over the juices staining Ivan’s mouth. He swipes his tongue at Ivan’s snaggletooth as a sign of approval. Ivan whimpers, a pleading “hyung” spilling from his lips. He smirks.
“Good boy. That’s your reward.”
“Thank you. But hyung hasn’t come yet,” Ivan says, with a pout. His junior is adorable when he wants to be.
Till sits up, a new gush of slick escaping his hole at the sight of Ivan’s front stained wet. He grinds his heel into it, Ivan groaning at the simulation. He scrabbles at Till’s legs, nipping at the flesh of his bare thighs.
“Hyuuung,” Ivan whines, dick springing back to life under Till’s foot. Hm. He shelves an idea for later.
“Up. Training’s not over yet,” Till says, patting at the bed behind him.