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41 degrees. Sounds about right.
The August heat melts into Martin’s skin like saccharine molasses.
On the way back from vocal lessons, he picks up some takeout garaetteok — Juhoon’s favourite. He doesn’t get the hype, but Juhoon will probably not talk to him for days if he admits it out loud so he will keep his honest thoughts to himself.
He sticks some strawberry milk bars in the freezer and some milk cartons in the fridge when he’s home.
Just standing outside the bedroom door, he can already feel the cool air spilling out from the gap underneath. He opens the door and it’s salvation, the breeze sweeps him in like a fresh breath of fucking finally.
Thankfully, the rest of the members went out for a karaoke.
Because Juhoon is here, gaming console in his hand, his head hanging off the edge of the bed.
“You’re early.” Juhoon greets him, eyes still glued to the TV screen as he manoeuvres around whatever game he’s playing.
Martin closes the door behind him before any of the cool escapes. “I begged Junseo hyung to let me go.” he unbuttons his collar loose to wind down. The second button refuses to budge so Martin gives up and rolls up his sleeves instead, all the while watching Juhoon furiously pressing buttons on his console .
“Don’t you get dizzy like that, baby?” he asks.
“When I do I just go up the bed and then go back like that again,” Juhoon answers.
Now’s a better chance than ever. Martin cups the base of Juhoon’s skull to support the boy’s neck. “Up, let’s go up,” Martin beckons him.
Juhoon whines but lets himself be manoeuvred up the bed. What he doesn’t expect, evidently, is to be entirely manhandled after that, turned all the way around so that his legs are where his head was, and for Martin to start tugging his shorts off.
“Juju, sorry, I’m gonna eat,” Martin warns, and it only clicks in Juhoon then.
“Oh—oh! Martin, wait—” A little too late now that his shorts and briefs are already around his calves.
It’s not that Juhoon is putting any fight, he’s just sort of disoriented, everything’s happening too fast and oh what, his shorts and briefs are on the floor.
“Martin, b-boss battle. I gotta—” Martin drags Juhoon towards him by his thighs and Juhoon yelps. On instinct, he covers his crotch with his free hand and Martin growls, prying it away.
“Give,” Martin says. He sounds like a toddler demanding his toy but he couldn’t care less. It’s the peak of the summer. The heat gets into his brain.
Even with years of doing this, Juhoon is still shy. Part of his charm, Martin thinks. With Juhoon’s hand out of the way, his bare cunt is right under Martin ’s nose.
Does it make him a pervert if he thinks it smells nice?
Fuck it. He is a pervert.
He saves Juhoon the embarrassment and keeps that thought to himself. Juhoon shivers under his stare, and that’s the cue to start. Martin starts with his hand on Juhoon’s crotch, cupping his cunt.
Juhoon prefers to keep himself shaved, says he likes the way he gets more sensitive. Martin ’s thumb travels to that place, massaging the skin just shy of his labia, and then without wasting any more time, licks up just slightly.
“Ma-Martin-ie,” Juhoon still calls for help, or maybe at this point, really just attention. He presses a few more buttons on his console but Martin doesn’t think he’s anywhere close to winning now.
“I’m not stopping.” Martin apologizes. He pinches that sensitive skin and Juhoon shrieks. That’s right, focus on him. Juhoon’s small, compact. Martin has to drag his folds to open him up. He places a kiss on Juhoon’s centre, gets Juhoon’s hips to twitch.
Should he ease this or should he just dive right in? Juhoon’s thighs are disobediently closing and Martin spreads them back apart. He allows himself to look once more. Pretty, Martin thinks, but he keeps that to himself, too.
He licks a thick line across him with the flat of his tongue. They’ve barely started and Juhoon’s already tensing.
“Can you make me cum at least after I beat this level?” Juhoon asks.
“I’ll try,” Martin half-promises, and Juhoon grumbles.
Martin pats the inside of his thigh. The taste is thicker around Juhoon’s opening, he might procrastinate things if he focuses there, but just a bit more won’t hurt. He goes deeper to compensate, his nose pressed to the hood of Juhoon’s clit.
“Martin stop that, you’re slobbering,” Juhoon tells him. Martin can’t see him but he sounds like a pout.
“You slobber on a good meal,” Martin says. Ah, but he is slobbering, it’s no joke, either his spit or Juhoon’s slick trickles down his chin, and Juhoon just won’t stop squirming. “Stay still.”
“But it tickles.”
Martin hums. He pecks Juhoon thrice, on his fold, his inner lips, and then right under his hole. Juhoon’s opening clenches around nothing, Martin contemplates filling it up.
Martin rubs Juhoon’s folds instead, never going past his outer labia, and puts his tongue in him. His slick is warmer than Martin ’s spit, Martin knows when it spills on his tongue.
Juhoon’s not vocal but he’s a squirmer and Martin can tell that he’s eating Juhoon out the right way. The boy’s canting his hips up, thighs squeezing around Martin ’s head and his free hand in Martin ’s hair. Martin regrets not undoing his belt before all this because he’s growing down there, awkward against the elastic of his underwear. Juhoon’s a mess, Martin ’s made a mess of him, he’s wet to his ass.
Martin kisses the inside of his thigh, teasing and bruising it with his teeth. He’s sensitive there and he keeps twitching, so Martin tries to draw his attention elsewhere, pushing Juhoon’s knees back until they very nearly hit his chest. The position bares Juhoon out and curiously, Martin brushes the pad of his thumb on Juhoon’s rim.
Juhoon outright freezes, getting up on his elbow. “Hey now,” he rushes.
“I won’t,” Martin says. “Someday?”
The heel of Juhoon’s palm digs into the sheets. “I—”
“Consider it?”
“I’ll think about it.” Juhoon says, primly. Martin spanks him and Juhoon laughs, lying back down and spreading his legs again like a good boy.
The build-up’s enough, Martin licks him a couple more times and moves to suck on his clit. Juhoon jumps with an ah and Martin holds him down.
Gotta make him come soon.
That’ll work, Martin remembers. He grips Juhoon’s hips and circles his hip bones with his thumbs, and Juhoon moans.
“A, a—ah,” he stutters. “Baby, please… please.”
Whatever he’s begging for Martin ’s not listening. He eats Juhoon out earnest and Juhoon’s thighs cling to Martin ’s face, ankles crossed behind Martin ’s back. Juhoon’s fucking drenched, Martin can’t even tell if he’s licking properly anymore, the slick’s made it all smooth and his jaw is numb.
“Y-you’re making it all w-weird,” Juhoon sobs. He’s coming, that’s what he says when he’s on the edge. Martin, you’re making me feel weird.”
He presses the tip of his tongue on Juhoon’s clit and sucks, and he thinks that’s what does it. Juhoon’s tummy quivers, he pulls at Martin’s hair and he’s gushing.
Martin lets Juhoon ride his orgasm on his face, until it’s far too much and his fingers untangle from Martin's hair for his arms to fall limp onto the mattress. Juhoon’s high is something else all together, he’s incredibly sensitive and twitchy for at least half an hour post orgasms.
He once passed out when Martin made him cum thrice in a row, twice on his tongue and lastly, on his cock. He’d gone non verbal for almost two hours and Martin had gotten worried that he’d broken Juhoon.
Now, Martin helps him stretch out his legs while Juhoon tries to come back down.
Juhoon’s eyes are closed, his chest chasing his breath. His gaming console long forgotten beside him. He’s got drool on his cheek, that’s like a medal for Martin. He climbs up Juhoon’s form and kisses his cheek where it’s wet, something Juhoon will hit him for if he’s not too gone from his orgasm.
“Thanks for the meal,” Martin says, wiping his mouth. Juhoon’s too tired to even scrunch his nose, Martin gives himself a mental pat on the back.
Fifteen minutes later, Juhoon is still catching his breath, eyes as glossy, but Martin can’t wait anymore. He drags Juhoon towards him and fills up the space he had carved with his tongue minutes ago, and Juhoon fucking screams.
He seizes up and the moment Juhoon’s hips show signs of twitching Martin props Juhoon’s legs on his shoulders and folds him in two, elevating him to a more comfortable angle.
“Baby, are you okay?” Martin asks.
Juhoon’s mouth opens, no voice. His eyes are zoned out, blinking and blinking.
“Hhhn,” Juhoon supplies.
“Okay. I’ll move. Jju, baby, I’m gonna move, okay?”
As weak as it is, Juhoon nods. His nails are digging into Martin’s bare arms and they’d leave red marks but Martin doesn’t care.
He builds up a tentative rhythm. Juhoon likes it a bit curved and Martin works it like that, even if he’s not sure how much control he has. Juhoon’s walls are tender from his orgasm, and so suffocatingly sloppy.
“C-can—faster,” Juhoon speaks. It’s tough and bordering futile with the way Martin’s weight is on him but he cants his hips up.
“Wan’ d-deep—Martin-ie, please.”
Martin’s not a strong man, his vision is fogging. It’s not possible for him to go all the way but he shoves his cock inside deeper than he ever dared to, burying himself in Juhoon’s heat. “Juhoon-ah, you’re so sweet inside.” Fuck, they sound like sex, they sound obscenely like sex. “You’re soaked, listen to yourself.”
Juhoon is drooling. He’s completely lost it, taking Martin’s cock like a ragdoll.
“Cum in my w-womb,” Juhoon begs. Jesus, how far deep is he? One orgasm usually doesn’t make him this cock dumb.
“B-baby—”
“Martin, y-you’re there, you’re almost there, please.”
Holy fuck. “Juhoon, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please please.”
He can’t hold back anymore, his balls have been threatening to burst since he stepped into this room, and now this? Martin drives himself in so deep he thinks he’s actually hit Juhoon’s cervix.
And like some sick porno Juhoon convulses, as if his body is trying desperately to swallow all of Martin’s cum.
If it’s possible to come twice in succession, Martin thinks he would’ve. Juhoon definitely does though, his hand automatically reaching down to rub at Juhoon’s clit to ease his high as he rides his orgasm. It’s filthy. His cock is ridiculously wet inside Juhoon, it’s tough to even move from how much the walls are sucking him. But it won’t be safe to stay inside, he’s already forced his way in enough.
After a ten or so minutes Juhoon finally goes down. He’s not twitching anywhere anymore and his nails have stopped trying to claw Martin’s arm.
Martin winces, he forgot that that even hurt.
Apparently, they already have food for dinner. James hyung had already made enough samgyeopsal and bibimbap to feed an army yesterday. God bless him.
Martin heats the bibimbap up as Juhoon sets the table. He’s wearing a shirt but only because they’re having a meal. He opens the fridge to get them their drinks, and Martin snorts when he hears him gasp.
“Martin-ieee! You bought garaetteok?!”