Chapter Text
Sunghoon was a loser.
He had come to such a conclusion when reflecting on past events of his life, although he had yet to decide whether to be bothered by that or not. He didn’t want to care at all, naturally, for it wasn’t something to be very proud of. In any case, he didn’t have anyone around him to either shame or comfort him, and therefore, ignoring his miserable state of being was the most logical option.
Except, maybe, for his former colleagues. Friends, brothers even, but they hadn’t seen each other in a good three years. Not a long time, but long enough to lose contact.
Occasionally, some of them, like Heeseung or Sunoo, popped up on his TV. They continued their public career and were successful in doing so. The others lived rather privately. Maybe he could find them somewhere, but he never cared to. It wasn’t because he didn’t miss them; spending twelve years together meant that a part of his heart would always be reserved for all six of them, yet he assumed certain things needed to have an end, and thus chasing after the past would be nonsensical.
End — like his career.
Right after their disbandment, Sunghoon had considered picking up ice skating again to become a teacher for younger children. But when he had tried himself on the ice again, he realised, with evident discontent, that he was no longer as confident and graceful at thirty as he was twenty years ago. And definitely not as flexible.
So he got a private little house somewhere near the edge of the city, not too far away from his family but away from peering eyes and curious looks. Although admittedly, Sunghoon presumed it didn’t make a difference when people lost interest in him, anyway. He was a loser.
And he was absolutely fine living by himself, drinking an occasional beer and humming sad tunes, for the rest of his life. The peak of his existence was over, and he had been surprisingly accepting of that fact.
Then he had to happen.
January was as brutal as always. Freezing temperatures and slippery streets were an absolute hazard. He used to love the cold, but now it was just depressing, and so he tried to go out as rarely as possible.
The one time Sunghoon actually decided to leave the house, he made a total fool of himself. A loser through and through, wasn’t he?
He was on his way to the bus stop after aimlessly scurrying through shops to find a gift for his niece’s fourth birthday. Even thinking about his married little sister already having a child, and carrying a second, made his heart ten times heavier. His twenties had passed so fast, and yes, he was very content with the loneliness that had become his life, but he was allowed to be angry on occasion, too. A whisper would brush him like a breeze, and Sunghoon would wonder what he could have done differently.
A curse slipped from his mouth as his shoe lost grip on snow-covered pavement. His fingers curled forcefully around the thin handles of the paper bag, which held the present he’d bought. Already, he could feel the headache and hear the chuckles of the nearby teenagers — yet neither ever came.
His eyes were squeezed shut until he blinked them open again. Something warm was wrapped tightly around him from under his arms. Even so, his cheeks flushed. Falling could have been less embarrassing than being caught by a stranger as though he were a clumsy toddler.
“Uh, sorry, my apologies—” Sunghoon got onto his feet, hands never leaving his arms even as he turned to face the stranger. “I should have-”
A laugh interrupted him.
Sunghoon himself turned to ice. He was staring at Heeseung. He rubbed his eyes and looked again, but he wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating. At that point, considering how much time he’d spent alone, isolated in his home, it wasn’t unthinkable that he had gone mad. But he was not. Not yet.
“You’re okay, Sunghoon,” Heeseung assured him. He raised a hand and patted Sunghoon’s shoulder in a brotherly manner. Clear amusement twinkled in his eyes as he gave Sunghoon an up-and-down, which only increased the embarrassment settling in the pit of Sunghoon’s gut. “I mean, I hope you’re okay?”
“I am, yes. Thanks to you,” Sunghoon stuttered. He stuffed his free hand into the right pocket of his black winter coat.
“That’s good.”
There was a beat of silence, utterly awkward, in which neither seemed to know what to say or what to do; whether to part ways again or indulge in some small talk after three years of not having seen one another.
Sunghoon was relieved when Heeseung spoke up first.
“Are you heading somewhere?”
“Home,” Sunghoon replied. He motioned towards the bag by curtly lifting it. “Bought something for my niece.”
“What did you get?”
“A stuffed toy.”
“How old is she?”
“She’s turning four.”
“You’re going by bus?” Heeseung asked next.
“Yes,” Sunghoon answered, and then he shrugged. He did have a license and a car, but he was too much of a wimp to take the risk of driving when it was very likely he’d cause an accident.
Another wave of silence. Sunghoon eventually recognised that he should ask something, as well. He’d almost forgotten how to have a conversation.
“What are you doing here? I mean, uhm, are you heading somewhere, as well?”
He mentally slapped himself. It was impossible that he acted like he needed a shot of hard liquor to talk to someone whom he had known for over a decade.
“Don’t know yet,” Heeseung said. He didn’t seem bothered by Sunghoon’s odd behaviour at all. “I was just moving around to get some inspiration, you know.”
“For songs? You’re still writing, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
Sunghoon noticed the way Heeseung’s face lightened. His lips contorted into a bigger smile, now less of a polite gesture and more of genuine joy. There was also a glimmer in his eyes. Sunghoon felt a tingle in his belly after seeing that.
“I’ve heard a few of your recent songs,” Sunghoon admitted.
His foot shuffled around. That was a lie, actually. Well, half-honest, too. He hadn’t just listened to a few songs. He had kept up with Heeseung’s music career quite devotedly, and the tunes he was singing along to on beer-belly nights were mostly by Heeseung. But he was too proud to admit to that much.
Heeseung reacted pleased, anyway.
“That’s surprising, to be honest, but I’m happy that you did. We didn’t really get to hear much from you, so…” He shook his head. Sunghoon wanted him to finish, but he didn’t try to urge him.
“They’re good. I like them,” Sunghoon complimented.
A few of the songs also reminded Sunghoon of his miserable parts. Like his virginity, which was the biggest reason he considered himself a loser, because being a virgin at thirty-three technically meant that he’d die one, too. It wasn’t even that he did not like sex or that he was reluctant to try. He was a scaredy-cat who refused to accept that he wanted to be fucked rather than do the fucking. And whenever he heard the older man sing about spit and sweat and sensuality, unruly images of him with Heeseung popped into his head that led to tight pants and dirty tissues.
Heeseung opened his mouth, but he was interrupted by the screeching of bus tires. Sunghoon was disappointed as he got ready to throw quick goodbyes, knowing he’d arrive at home and jerk off and then be miserable again.
Fortunately, Heeseung intervened.
“I could take you home. In my car. Might be more comfortable than the bus?”
Sunghoon had a few seconds to make a decision. It didn’t even take one as he happily declared, “I’d like that.”
During the car ride, Heeseung sang once or twice along to whatever played on the radio. Only quietly, but regardless, Sunghoon couldn’t focus on anything but his voice. Furthermore, strong warmth stirred under his skin, in contrast to the cold outside. Along with the heating inside the car, sweat inevitably built a sticky layer beneath his clothing.
Sunghoon frowned at the windshield. Thirty minutes weren’t enough. Should he ask if Heeseung still has the same number? Or should he pretend that their little reunion had never happened at all?
“Is this the right place? Sunghoon?” Heeseung put a hand on Sunghoon’s thigh to get his attention, which had the younger man jolting in surprise.
He shifted and cleared his throat. His body moved subtly as he straightened his spine, fingers causing the paper of the bag in his hands to crinkle.
“Yes. Thanks for driving me,” Sunghoon spoke as nonchalantly as he could muster.
“No problem,” Heeseung squeezed the flesh gently. Sunghoon tensed and hoped it was nothing more than a habit Heeseung had with his passengers. He must have girlfriends sitting next to him all the time. But he couldn’t wonder more about that when Heeseung continued to speak. “Your place looks nice.”
Sunghoon chuckled softly. Sure, it was nice. It had been expensive when he’d bought it, but it was worth every penny. No stalkers or crazy fans breaking in, neighbours were yards away, and so much space that could be filled. Unfortunately, the last one wasn’t really a positive aspect. All the emptiness was eating Sunghoon up, only to spit him out and swallow him once more.
“Mhm, it’s… comfortable,” he said. And then, without reconsidering the words, “Do you want to come inside?”
There was a flicker in Heeseung’s eyes, and a spark in Sunghoon’s chest. He felt like a chick being driven home with the intention of getting laid, just that he wasn’t some pretty lady, and neither would he ever be pressed into the mattress.
He regretted the words at first.
Until Heeseung shut off the engine and undid his belt. “Sure. I missed talking to you.”
Sunghoon quickly followed suit with shaky hands. He nearly fell out of the car and prayed that Heeseung hadn’t noticed.
“It’s—It’s not that clean,” Sunghoon warned the other man.
“I don’t mind,” Heeseung dismissed kindly.
“And I don’t really have anything to eat…”
“I just had lunch.”
“And I don’t really have anything el-”
“Sunghoon,” Heeseung interrupted the younger man.
They were close. Sunghoon had fumbled to put in his passcode. There was a beep to signal that the door had unlocked, and Sunghoon had pushed it open an inch. But now he had Heeseung’s breath against his ear, their bodies barely leaving a gap for cold air. And it was distracting, even if he wasn’t really doing anything to be distracted from.
And yet, Sunghoon nearly tipped to the side when he took off his shoes. And his coat had hit the floor twice when he wanted to put it on a hanger. Heeseung had stayed silent, but Sunghoon’s face and ears had burned bright red, and he had imagined that the older man had been suppressing his laughter.
In the living room, Heeseung took a seat on the black couch. Sunghoon hastily cleaned some food wrappers and empty bottles from the coffee table.
“You smoke?” Heeseung pointed at the glass ashtray that had a few crushed cigarettes in it.
Sunghoon stuttered around until he managed to get an answer over his tongue. “Sometimes. Only when…,” he waved his hand to discard the thought, “I try not to.”
As if he was ready to reveal that he did feel pathetic enough for nicotine every other week or so. It was on days with heavy, grey clouds and freezing winds. On the uncomfortably quiet days. On the days, he thought back to their debut a little over fifteen years ago. It was on those days that the dull ache in his head got too strong and his limbs were too heavy to be moved. Then, there was nothing he managed to do except for drink whiskey and smoke cigarettes as though he was part of a bad movie. Hangovers and coughing were easier than crying.
“I didn’t imagine you’d ever start. You were always so cautious of your health,” Heeseung noted.
Sunghoon pursed his lips and glanced anywhere except Heeseung as he thought of a response. He was still standing between the kitchen and the living room. “Doesn’t matter anymore, does it? Besides, I lost every ounce of muscle, if you haven’t noticed.”
Heeseung cocked his head to the side. His eyes, firm and scrutinising, traced every visible line of the other man’s figure. A sense of insecurity poked at Sunghoon’s chest.
“I didn’t notice.”
Sunghoon thought it was a polite lie. Over the past couple of years, he had really let himself go. It was astonishing how rapidly the body could get rid of muscles and replace them with soft fat, where it wasn’t bones. In comparison to his body, Heeseung had gone through the opposite. Since his military service, in fact. Before that, he had never visited the gym more than was necessary for the minimum fitness requirements. After that, he had gained a gorgeous amount of defined muscles and had maintained them.
Heeseung was successful, good-looking and strong. Sunghoon only used to be those things.
“Shut up,” Sunghoon scoffed as he sat down next to Heeseung. He jokingly patted his belly. “I certainly don’t have a six pack anymore.”
“Oh no, poor Sunghoon,” Heeseung drawled mockingly.
Sunghoon threw him a half-hearted glare and was about to retort something smart, giddy that they had shifted into familiar banter, when Heeseung also put his hand over Sunghoon’s belly, under his sweater. And the casualness went down the drain.
His hand was big and warm, and Sunghoon was terribly aware of how much their sizes truly had changed. Perhaps he should have cooked more instead of having a bottle of beer for dinner. Honestly, the alcohol should have made him gain weight, but of course, Sunghoon had been too fucking lazy to even have breakfast, and he rarely fancied a lunch, either.
But right now, he was more concerned with the way Heeseung was breathing onto his neck and rubbing his hand over his flat stomach.
“You’re small,” Heeseung muttered. He rested his chin on Sunghoon’s shoulder. The younger man nearly melted right then and there. And he knew he’d soon get hard when Heeseung moved his fingers to trace his hipbone, just a tiny sliver above his pants. “And skinny.”
“Hyung,” Sunghoon whispered. He didn’t dare say anything other than that.
“Hm? Got something to say?” Heeseung was starting to sound mean. He pressed his fingers into the fair skin right above the buckle of his belt. “How about you help me understand why you fucked off and didn’t reach out to anyone?”
Sunghoon’s heart dropped. He should have expected that it’d become a topic. Hell, he owed Heeseung an explanation. All of them.
He’d gotten calls back then. Messages, simple check-ins and questions about his life and how he was doing after their official disbandment. Sunghoon had chosen utter avoidance. It was easier, and losers liked to choose easy because it increased their minuscule chance at winning.
“I didn’t-”
“Didn’t what? Didn’t call back? Didn’t give a sign of life? Didn’t care?”
Heeseung had swiftly undone his belt by now and slipped his hand under the pants to grope him through his boxers. Sunghoon accidentally pushed his hips into the touch, which earned him a rough squeeze and a scoff. He wanted to cry, actually. But instead, he tossed his head back and clawed at the cushions of the couch, because it must have been at least five years since he received a handjob from someone who wasn’t Sunghoon himself.
“I’m sorry,” Sunghoon croaked out. The pleasure momentarily stopped.
“Sure you are.”
Heeseung pulled his hand out, and the embarrassment washed Sunghoon clean of the arousal. Before he could say anything, though, Heeseung manhandled him onto his lap, but only onto one leg. The knowledge that he could do so without a problem had Sunghoon shiver like a kitten.
Although it was difficult to maintain attention when straddling such a handsome man’s lap, boner pressed against a muscular thigh, Sunghoon had to know what was going on; Why Heeseung was acting like that, putting his hands down his pants and all.
“Heeseung, I don’t understand.”
“No? I might explain. If you’re good.”
Then, two hands went from his waist to his hips and rolled him forward. Sunghoon bit his tongue and found purchase on Heeseung’s shoulders. He had nearly moaned from such a tiny movement.
“How can I be good?” The words sounded more erotic than Sunghoon wanted them to be.
Heeseung smirked stupidly and patted Sunghoon’s head. “I’m glad you asked. I think it’s obvious. You’re going to use my thigh like the desperate fucking bitch that you are.”
Sunghoon’s frame collapsed against Heeseung. He hid his face on his shoulder, hands sliding down and grasping at the fabric of Heeseung’s shirt, and began to rub his crotch against the thigh. This time, he couldn’t hold the moan back. Apparently, the earlier embarrassment hadn’t gotten rid of all the arousal.
There was a sudden pull on his scalp. Heeseung had ripped his head back so Sunghoon wouldn’t be able to hide his sweet, pink face.
“I want to hear more of your dirty moans,” Heeseung muttered into his ear. He shifted his hands to cup Sunghoon’s ass.
Naturally, the younger man began to move faster and moan louder. He shouldn’t be listening so easily when Heeseung was blatantly disrespectful, but his body absorbed each word like a non-arguable order. Perhaps he was just a pervert using this as a chance to get off with someone else close to him for once. Or he thought that Heeseung would actually forgive him if he behaved obediently. Or he was shamelessly horny and nothing more.
It wasn’t enough.
No matter what Heeseung whispered into his ear, how harshly he groped thin flesh, and how many kisses were scattered over his jaw and neck and ear, the buzz never reached its peak.
If Sunghoon looked down, he would be able to see a damp spot on his boxers peeking out of his unzipped pants. Sunghoon was overheating due to the humping he was doing and the thick fabric of his sweater. His thighs were growing tired, yet the fire in his loins wouldn’t die down at all.
Heeseung must have noticed, for he asked, “Not enough?”
Sunghoon’s body faltered, and he panted. He needed air. Fresh and cold air that’d penetrate his lungs and turn his lips blue because he needed to feel something that wasn’t Heeseung. Something that’d squeeze him until it hurt, unlike Heeseung, who was all grounding and warm and melted Sunghoon to a puddle. At last, he was too afraid of losing Heeseung again.
“Mhm,” Sunghoon hummed, “I can’t.”
Frankly, his dick hurt, and he wanted to cum and hit the bed, maybe have a cigarette, too. Saying those words exactly like that, however, would require confidence that Sunghoon didn’t own.
Of course, Heeseung knew what to say to punch the energy back into him.
“Then I’ll just fuck you.”
Sunghoon’s ears rang — Sex. Actual sex, Heeseung and him.
“But I think I want to hear you asked for it,” Heeseung mused. He cocked his head to the side and raised one hand to shamelessly push Sunghoon’s boxers down. His fingers curled around the length, which led to Sunghoon jumping and cursing.
“You’re horrible,” Sunghoon groaned.
“You deserve it. Me being horrible, that is,” Heeseung clarified, “You don’t deserve to cum yet, so don’t get too excited, love.”
“You’re angry, I get it,” Sunghoon somehow managed to grit through his teeth. Heeseung’s hand was irritatingly slow. It was lazy and not rushed at all, so it truly didn’t do anything for Sunghoon except keep him aroused and desperate.
“I’m not angry,” Heeseung sighed. He pressed a tender kiss to Sunghoon’s neck. Too tender, almost. “I was… worried.”
“Worried? Then why-”
“And rightfully so,” Heeseung cut him off, “You lost weight, you’re smoking, and you don’t clean your space.”
For a moment, the movement stopped. Sunghoon heard the older man click his tongue at the same time, and he deeply regretted even opening his mouth. The longer Heeseung kept switching between giving and not giving, the more the chances of Sunghoon turning violent increased.
In contrast to that, Sunghoon mentioned cautiously, “You sound angry, though.”
“… Okay, maybe I am a little pissed. But that’s why I’ll fuck you until you’re crying.”
It was clear that they had a lot to work out, but it was also clear that they weren’t in a position that allowed a deeply emotional conversation.
Heeseung resumed his languid strokes.
A full-body shiver rippled through Sunghoon. He jerked his hips up, though Heeseung showed immense dissatisfaction with that, so of course, his hand stopped again. Sunghoon crashed down, cold water spilling over him and ruining the heat that had been steadily building.
Heeseung spoke up again, “I almost forgot; I want to hear you ask for it.”
A short moment where neither said nor did anything followed. It gave Sunghoon the chance to understand that Heeseung wasn’t merely teasing; he was genuinely expecting Sunghoon to play along.
“Yes?” Sunghoon didn’t sound confident because he wasn’t. He was confused. Well, he was also excruciatingly turned on and desperate to have intercourse for the first time, but the situation was too odd to ignore.
It had been one hour since their eyes first met after a few years of not talking at all. Surely, that was primarily Sunghoon’s fault; however, he definitely didn’t have anything to do with Heeseung willingly sticking his hand down Sunghoon’s pants.
A playful slap on Sunghoon’s crotch brought him back to their current situation.
“That’s no good, Sunghoon. Try again.”
Sunghoon’s jaw clenched. A string of insults went through his head, and yet he responded and did what Heeseung wanted. “Please fuck me.”
Heeseung leisurely hummed and tilted his head to the side. “Should I? I’m not sure. You sound so insincere.”
That was cruel and stupidly annoying. It wasn’t even like Heeseung saying yes would be a reward, since he made it pretty clear he’d only do it for his own pleasure and to punish Sunghoon. The words ‘Until you’re crying’ replayed in Sunghoon’s head.
“Please,” Sunghoon repeated, but as he glanced at Heeseung, unable to read anything from his expression, he spilt, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not reaching out, for being stupid and ignorant, and for not saying so immediately. But please, even if it’s a punishment, I really need you to fuck me, sir!”
The little title slipped from his lips before he could realise what exactly was bursting out of him. Sunghoon had no clue what to do, and honestly, if he ended up making a total fool out of himself because Heeseung only intended on humiliating him, then he’d just ghost him again and forget about everything he said a second ago. Easy as that. In fact, that’d be easier than any other option, like handing out raw truths and accepting such, too.
“Much better,” Heeseung acknowledged. He patted Sunghoon’s head. “Was that difficult?”
“Yes, actually,” Sunghoon grumbled.
“Good. Stand up, love.” Heeseung squeezed Sunghoon’s penis.
Mortification raged through Sunghoon’s bones. He considered nuzzling his fist into Heeseung’s face. Unfortunately, and to immense disappointment, he was too needy to prolong this even further. His cock was still enraged and crying for some touch.
Sunghoon led them to the bedroom after he had stumbled to his feet and fumbled with his belt. It hadn’t lasted for long, for Heeseung had told him to just drop it, so Sunghoon had walked the whole way without pants and a visible bulge in his underwear. It really wasn’t the best day for Sunghoon’s pride.
“It’s cute. Looks like back in the dorm,” Heeseung commented too casually while he pushed Sunghoon onto the bed.
Sunghoon pushed himself onto his elbows whilst his legs made space for the other man. For a moment, he simply pondered over the words. There wasn’t much meaning, he concluded, and nonetheless, it was another stake of many pushing into his heart.
Heeseung noticed. He must have.
He gave a slap to Sunghoon’s inner thigh. “Focus on me. You begged me to fuck you silly, or did you already forget?”
Sunghoon turned pink. “I did not beg!”
“You did.”
“No. I just said what you wanted to hear!”
“So much better! You said it because you wanted to please your ‘Sir’?”
The smug little smirk on Heeseung’s face was irritating. And hot. Mostly irritating.
Sunghoon kicked his foot. “Asshole.”
Heeseung laughed as he avoided a bruise to his face. “Don’t get rude, sweetheart.”
Sunghoon stayed meek because everything that followed had him too overwhelmed to talk. The kiss that they shared was delicate at first and then more and more aggressive, needy, and dirty.
He got shy when Heeseung unravelled all of him. His body wasn’t as handsome as it used to be ten years ago. His ribs were peeking through his sallow skin, and so were his hipbones. Heeseung could easily toss him around, and the way his hands fit around Sunghoon’s waist was unsettling. But he liked being in the man’s hold. Just underneath him, giving himself to him, even if he had no idea what it’d be like.
“Have you got lube?” Heeseung asked in between kisses and licks, which he’d been spreading over Sunghoon’s chest.
Occasionally, his fingers would take a nipple and tug at it, flick over it, pinch it. Sunghoon felt every tingle and twitch going straight south.
“Yeah. Bottom drawer of my wardrobe. I’ll get it.”
A hand pushed him back down when he tried to stand up.
“Ah, ah, ah. Be a good boy and wait, yes?”
Sunghoon rolled his eyes and mumbled, “Yes, sir.”
Heeseung left the bed and sauntered over to the wardrobe. He didn’t look hurried at all. That was unfair because Sunghoon couldn’t stop squirming around, desperate for contact or to have his leaking cock be touched.
“Wow,” came from a different side of the room. Sunghoon was confused and turned his head.
Oh. Oh.
“D-don’t fucking stare at it. Just get the lube,” Sunghoon yelled over to the man currently crouching in front of his wardrobe. He already held the bottle in his left hand, but Sunghoon was able to see his right arm moving to look at something else. And he knew, to his mortification, exactly what it was.
Heeseung grinned as he held a toy in his hand and waved it sadistically. “So that’s what you were doing these past years.”
“No, shut up.”
See, that was the thing with Sunghoon and his sexual experiences. He had no idea what it was like to have a real dick inside his ass, but silicone and glass? That was familiar to him by now.
Heeseung teased with mock astonishment, “You’ve got a whole collection here.”
“Just come back here!”
“Why didn’t you get a realistic one? Or a pink one?”
“Jesus Christ, Heeseung, stop it!”
“Why don’t you show me how you use it?”
“No!” Sunghoon was about to burst from utter humiliation. He threw an arm across his face and manifested that Heeseung would move on.
He heard some thumping and shuffling and then felt the mattress dip. His arm was guided off his face and pinned to the bed next to his head. To his relief, Heeseung only brought the lube.
“Don’t be fed up with me,” Heeseung requested, “I think it’s hot. Honestly.”
“Yeah, well, okay. I don’t care.”
“You’re adorable,” Heeseung chirped. He buried his face in the space between Sunghoon’s neck and shoulder. His teeth abused the skin. And in the meantime, one of his hands trailed all the way down Sunghoon’s ass. The other that had pinned the younger man’s arm now chose to twist a leg.
Suddenly, Sunghoon felt a dry finger rubbing over his entrance. He twitched. His insides prickled.
Heeseung sat back on his knees and coated two of his fingers in lube. “Ask for it.”
“You can’t be serious,” Sunghoon retorted in disbelief.
“I am. Now, ask for it.”
Sunghoon inhaled deeply. The air came out more roughly in a display of his frustration. “Please put your fingers inside me. Sir.”
“Good boy,” Heeseung praised. His tone was condescending, but he was serious.
And so he slipped his finger inside easily. A delightful moan fled from Sunghoon’s mouth. He put his arms around Heeseung to keep his weight deliciously pressed onto him. He needed the warmth. The closeness. The intimacy and the reminder that everything was real. That Heeseung was there, above him, taking care of him because he wanted to do so. Because he had been worrying about Sunghoon.
And now, he didn’t focus on blaming himself. All he wanted was to be good, take everything he was given, no less and no more, and please the other man.
Part of him had expected it to be rougher. That he would use one or two fingers for a short moment and then go at it relentlessly, but that didn’t happen. Perhaps Sunghoon had mistaken expectation with his fantasy. Moreover, gentleness would make the experience less punishing and cause guilt to rise in his throat like bile.
Sunghoon whined when emptiness replaced Heeseung’s fingers. He looked up, blinked, and let his eyes focus on the other man, who was undressing.
And once he was done doing that, he made sure to spread Sunghoon’s legs widely.
Tormentingly, he pressed his tip against Sunghoon’s hole without actually pushing inside. Sunghoon immediately figured out what was expected of him. His current state didn’t allow him to ponder it, either.
“Please fuck me. Put it in, please, sir.” His voice was all gooey and sugary. He didn’t expect, after those many cigarettes, that his throat could muster such a small voice.
“Such a good boy,” Heeseung praised.
Sunghoon merged with the sheets. He was pliant and submissive, begging to be ruined without saying so. He’d partly anticipated more fond handling — as in, that Heeseung would take his time and introduce inch for inch.
He slammed his dick inside Sunghoon.
Immediately, his back curved and lifted from the sheets. Heeseung didn’t care, obviously. He forced Sunghoon’s knees as close to his chest as his rusty bones would allow.
Sunghoon nearly screamed. But he didn’t breathe, and so no sound could be produced. He was overwhelmed; his flexibility was tested in more places than just his thighs. Fortunately, Heeseung did give him some time to adjust to his generous size. Perhaps three or four seconds.
And then he continued to mercilessly drive into Sunghoon over and over again, until they were both sweaty and Sunghoon couldn’t say either of their names.
It was much better than any of his toys. Those could never reproduce the heat, the dominance, the presence of another human. Of Heeseung, especially, since he was fucking Sunghoon like he wanted to make sure the younger man couldn’t find release unless he was under Heeseung.
Sunghoon loved every second of it.
Eventually, Heeseung flipped him around. One hand dug into Sunghoon’s hip, occasionally delivering a mean smack, while the other was on the back of Sunghoon’s neck. He was forced to keep his body arched.
Heeseung wasn’t a pathetic liar like Sunghoon, either. He meant what he said, and he stayed true to it; he made Sunghoon cry with his dick.
Despite it being a punishment, he cleaned Sunghoon. The younger was in and out of sleep, barely registering the warm towel between his legs. When he did have the capacity to reflect on the gesture, he wished he could thank Heeseung, but his throat was sore from all the moaning and whining and crying. His ass felt even worse.
“Hey, baby, can you lift your hips?”
Sunghoon frowned in discontent. He did it anyway, still flowing with the wave of submission so that Heeseung could pull some boxer shorts on him. Knowing that he’d even taken the time to find a towel earlier and his underwear now, his gut churned and shook.
“I’m sorry,” Sunghoon croaked out.
“Shh, I know you are. Just rest, okay?” Heeseung crawled back onto the bed. He pulled Sunghoon into his arms.
“But don’t go. I have to explain…” Sunghoon pushed his head into Heeseung’s side and inhaled.
There was a lingering mix of heavy sweat and faint perfume that entered Sunghoon’s nose. Heeseung didn’t take a shower, apparently, because Sunghoon had been clingy. That acknowledgement transformed Sunghoon into an even more timid mess than he already was at that moment.
“After you have slept, all right?”
A hand sneaked through Sunghoon’s hair. It tingled all the way down to his toes. He forgot about the pain in his lower area and fell into a deep sleep without answering. But it was not a problem, right? Heeseung would surely stay. Maybe. Hopefully.