Archive of Our Own

The art in bed rotting is something Kim Sunoo takes very, very seriously. There’s reward in the work that goes into it, the checklist he keeps in his head that no one else knows about, the routine that starts to invade his consciousness the second he gets an inkling of a full, complete 24 hours off. A proper bed rotting would not be just a single day. No, that was for marathon runs of lazing while he did his other things to prepare for the week. A few hours of scrolling to no end on his phone while he washed clothes, or wiping down the dusty surfaces in his room before he was up early the next morning with a show he enjoyed played in the background.

The art to the bed rot was to start the minute you got home.

He untangles his messenger bag from his shoulder and drops it onto his gaming chair the moment his bedroom door opened. His room wasn’t necessarily clean with a small pile of half-worn clothes (clothes he wore for a few hours before changing into something else) pushed against the closet door and variously colored wrappers poking out from the top of his overflowing trash can tucked underneath his desk. It wasn’t the kind of task that required blasting music that controlled his energy and a sweat that built up at his hairline like he sometimes allowed, but it wasn’t anything he could half-ass either. He needed perfection before the inevitable act of downloading all three seasons of that doctor show he’s had in his watch list for months now, hoping to fly through at least the first one before the sun disappeared and he would end up wasting hours of the night on his phone, blowing up each individual members message box before they woke up.

“Okay,” he says to no one in particular, clapping his hands together and tapping each finger against its opposite paramour. “Let’s do this.”

There was a mug he used for his teas on days like this. After he had washed out his bedroom water bottle (stainless steel, black, and covered in stickers; only to be used for his room no matter how many times it had mysteriously teleported to Ni-ki’s room), he filled the mug with boiling water and a green tea for its energizing purposes. It sat, half sipped and still warm, on a coaster on his desk while he folded warm laundry. His iPad was playing the doctor drama through his headphones while he worked on his bed, a sudden utopia of loungewear skyscrapers and hanger shaped roads. They clacked and slid against his shins as he bent to grab the next piece of fabric from the laundry basket, nearly empty and stress relieving.

His humidifier was already going, full and billowing a cold white steam in the corner of his room. With every tiny obstacle that he completed, he felt himself sinking deeper into that cloud-like state of satisfaction that could only be described as euphoric. The surfaces were dusted and shining. The tiny trash can shaped like Hello Kitty was empty. His sheets were hung out on the terrace and should be dry soon. The only thing required after this was his everything shower, which concluded with multiple layers of hydration on every spare inch of his body and a set of his comfiest pajamas to weasel his way between his comforter and sheets to end his perfectly unproductive productive day.

He hadn’t been seen outside of his room since he had stolen the vacuum from the living room, where Jungwon and Jay had taken residence after they had gone to lunch. Each member had a different idea for what their days off, or even just their free hours looked like. Sometimes they’d use it for extra sleep, catching up with friends outside of the seven of them, or even the most mundane acts of shopping for the upcoming week to feel somewhat normal and going for walks. Sometimes they’d blend, a few members going out to eat with one another or video gaming sessions that took place in the two separate dorms but connected through headsets that echoed different tones of laughter and compilations Ni-ki had screen recorded and made of Jake’s on screen characters dying over and over again.

“Hyung! Join us,” Jungwon offered when Sunoo walked in front of the television. There must’ve been a F1 race playing on it with the way Jay was hunched over on the couch, fists against each side of his face and eyes zeroed in the way they did when he was studying choreography.

“No thank you,” Sunoo declined as he lifted the stick vacuum up against his shoulder. He turned around to walk through again, but stopped when he noticed the coffee table was just an assortment of snacks in their mismatched bowls they had accumulated from different shopping trips. Sunoo’s favorite floral matcha green bowl was full of shrimp crackers. He dipped down over the bowl Heeseung just had to buy in Japan—a ramyeon bowl that was definitely being used for candy he hated, but Sunoo would never tell—and stole a quick handful.

“Sunoo,” Jay whined, craning his neck as far left as it could go. Sunoo grinned and moved so the vacuum dangled over Jay’s field of vision.

“What hyung?” Sunoo asked, mocking an innocence he knew would get him out of even the most highly monitored facilities and dangerous situations. His mouth was hit with a burst of sourness from the candy as he chewed past a small smile at Jay’s short-willed annoyance before departing back to the safety of his room.

He pulled sheets over his bed that smelled of sunshine and his favorite fabric softener, dousing his room in the achievement he had worked so hard for. The sun was starting to set outside his open window, air making his blackout curtains puff around the bottom and brush absently against the backs of his thighs as he bends over the bed to place his pillow down. He smooths a hand over the silk pillowcase, humming in delight.

There’s an atmosphere he builds during these days. Phone on Do Not Disturb, with only his six bandmates, his manager, and family able to break that little bubble he placed around himself and the outside world, even though he ignored most of their messages unless they were urgent, emergencies, or something he needed to be aware of right away. Every so often he’d remember to glance at his phone, scrolling through the messages of the group chat as a break before he’d go right back to whatever it was he was doing.

Which brings him to now. Freshly showered. Hair recently blow dried. He’s buried himself in blankets and his iPad is playing that show. His ear buds are out and he’s watching with the window closed, the blinds open still allowing in the last of the sun from the day. The face mask he was wearing had left his skin dewy and hydrated, sitting in that trash can he had emptied not too long ago. He had heard movement outside his door not too long ago, someone’s baritone voice bouncing off the closed wood. He was near sleep when he heard his bedroom door creak open and shut.

“Sunoo-yah?”

Sunoo’s eyelids peel open with effort, unmoving from his comfortable position. Arm under pillow, pillow tucked under cheek, left leg bent and pulled up over to rest against the bed while his right was straightened adjacent to the bed. The blanket is pulled around his head, padding his chin, iPad against the wall and still playing.

“Hmmm,” Sunoo replied with his throat, the heavy gloss on his lips sealing them shut. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was, already keen to the person standing in his room due to the way the air shifted upon entering. Sunoo would never know how Sunghoon did it, Sunoo’s body malleable and gummy to his boyfriend’s presence, warm like a gooey marshmallow fresh from the fire. Sunoo could even narrow down his footsteps that creak down the hallway in the dorm above them at night.

“Are you awake?”

He feels the bed dip to pressure and a hand cup his forehead, as if feeling for sickness. Sunoo leans into the touch, uncaring about Sunghoon’s cold hands.

“No?” He blinks over at Sunghoon, face illuminated by the twilight shining in. He’s wearing one of those big smiles he gets when Sunoo looks at him, unable to control his expressions like a four year old.

“Hi.” The back of Sunghoon’s hand slides down the side of Sunoo’s face.

“Hi.”

“Did you have a good day?” Sunghoon asks. He’s bent over the side of the small twin bed, dressed in a black zip up sweatshirt and gray sweatpants.

“I did,” Sunoo’s sleepy smile escapes him as a thumb runs over the point of his chin. “Did you?”

“I went shopping with Jake,” Sunghoon replies and Sunoo can already see him lifting his leg up to join Sunoo on the bed, but he shakes his head quickly.

“No outside-”

“Clothes on the bed,” Sunghoon finishes quickly before Sunoo can finish. He rolls his eyes a little, not bothering to nudge Sunoo over as he lifts the comforter and slides in next to him. Sunoo should pester him about letting all the warmth escape his body from the few seconds the blanket was lifted, but the thought dissipates quickly when Sunghoon’s radiator like temperature replaces the cold. “I changed in my room before I came down. Relax, baby.”

Sunoo only turns over in response, pulling the blanket back over to his face. He had been dancing along the edge of awake and sleep, entirely unaware of where he was with this show now. Episodes must’ve passed because he does not remember that doctor being there before, but she seems incredibly important to the plot. Sunoo moves to go back to some part of the show that didn’t feel foreign without reading ahead and spoiling it for himself, his eyes drooping as Sunghoon sighs heavily from behind him.

“You’re not even going to ask what I got you?” Sunghoon’s hand finds its way to Sunoo’s spine, his index fingers dragging against his shirt. Sunoo tries to downplay his full body reaction of shivers that kick off from his neck and end with a twitch of his foot, bending his toes in his socks.

“Did you get me something?” Sunoo asks, clicking on the episode he believes he left off at. He skims through the episode with the bar at the bottom of the screen, ignoring the dig of Sunghoon’s index finger into the base of his spine, just an inch above the hem of his shorts.

Sunghoon scoffs, dipping his finger into the waistband of Sunoo’s shorts.

Sunoo knew Sunghoon was the kind of person who just constantly touched, even if Sunghoon wasn’t entirely aware he was doing it. He played with Sunoo’s hand when they talked late at night, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over each of Sunoo’s soft nail beds. He’d twirl hair at the back of Sunoo’s head and rest his head on his shoulder when they’d sit in the back of the van on early mornings. Pull Sunoo into his lap and lock the younger’s legs on the outside of his own, opening and closing them as they watched movies on the couch.

Touch that never really warranted Sunoo’s reaction, but he was always aware of it. His body would become pliant and mould into whatever toy Sunghoon required at the time for mental stimulation or whatever, even if sometimes Sunoo would have to bite his lips to keep himself from moaning when Sunghoon’s tired hands after dance practice would slide further up the inside of his thigh and back down again as he was in deep conversation with Heeseung, unaware of the boy hiding his face in his palms to escape eyes that would undoubtedly notice the peculiar shade of red his face had turned.

“Don’t I always?” Sunghoon asks, as if it’s the easiest connection in the world. Sunghoon shopping = Sunoo gets something. In some cases, yes it does. The late night convenience runs meant Sunoo got a drink and a treat without asking. Clothes shopping meant Sunoo got some new additions to his wardrobe. New jewelry he didn’t buy tucked into his jewelry case on the shelf above his desk. Sunghoon never outright asked if Sunoo wanted anything, he would just bring something home and his reasoning would be thoughtless.

‘I thought you’d like it.’

‘It reminded me of you.’

‘This would look good on you.’

And every time Sunoo would smile and roll his eyes because his boyfriend is ridiculous and sweet and wouldn’t admit it out loud, but his mind is always on Sunoo and what he likes. Sunoo has evidence: their text chain that reads like a script every single day, even the days where they were together for most of it but separated for a few hours with ‘What are you doing’ and ‘I miss you’ at hourly intervals, or how his closet is a blend of what he’s bought, what was gifted to him from brands, and the more prominent side of his closet that was beginning to take over space that Sunghoon had bought for him or Sunoo had stolen from him with Sunghoon’s beckoning. He had to stop keeping physical lists of things he wanted to try because Sunghoon would find them, always the one to go digging through a random desk drawer when bored, and Sunoo would have a fresh face routine to try waiting for him in a box on the dorm table that one of his bandmates had brought in.

“I’m sure I’ll see it later,” Sunoo whispers his reply as his show plays, trying to focus on what they were saying. It looked intense and important, something lost to Sunghoon as he followed the seam of Sunoo’s shorts toward his stomach.

“Sunoo-yaaaaaah.” His breath is hot against the back of Sunoo’s head but has the opposite effect on his skin, goosebumps littering his nape. Sunoo ignores it again, eyes locked on the screen but attention flickering.

“Hyung!” Sunoo whines when he feels a heavy leg get thrown over his hip. The weight of it is unexpected and binding, not allowing him to move. “I’m trying to watch this!”

Not moving was the point of all the work he had done today, but… he would like to move if he wanted to.

“This is what you’ve been doing all day?” Sunghoon’s arm slings over from behind him, locking their bodies against one another. His hand crawls against the white sheet so his fingers wrapped around Sunoo’s bicep under the pillow. Sunghoon puts his face in the crook of Sunoo’s neck, digging his chin into his shoulder. “I want to try to.”

“You’ve already failed. I haven’t moved since I woke up.”

“You’re a liar.” Sunoo can feel the older’s grin against his skin. “Your room did not look like this this morning.”

“How would you know?” Sunoo tries to jerk out of his hold, but it’s unrewarding. Constricting tighter like a boa snake around him, Sunghoon lets out a relieved noise. Sunoo adds a tightened “You slept in your own room last night”.

Sunghoon’s nose tickles Sunoo’s neck as it travels up, making Sunoo’s vision blur away from the screen. His focus wasn’t split. It was on the boy clinging to him like a koala. Inhaling deeply as he pressed little kisses against his neck. Heavy thigh resting against Sunoo’s hip, with no pressure, just dead weight.

“I came in this morning to say goodbye.” Sunghoon’s pout is heavy against Sunoo’s chin. Sunoo tries to wiggle free again, but Sunghoon tenses against him, caging him in. His body was drowning in Sunghoon’s, easily overtaken by opportunity. He’s not sure he’d be visible if someone were to walk in right now, but he’s positive he wouldn’t want anyone to walk in.

“Then just enjoy it,” Sunoo pushes his face into the pillow, unable to do much else. He’s sure the climax of the episode was playing due to the way the music was transcending everything else, but he didn’t want to check, feeling like he’s missed far too much to try and salvage his interest in it. He could always rewatch later, after Sunghoon had calmed down from the Sunoo withdrawal symptoms he presented. This happened often in fact, one moment Sunghoon was standing in one corner of a room and once the door was shut, he was all over Sunoo.

Most days Sunoo would reciprocate with his own symptoms, tucking Sunghoon’s head against his neck and wrapping Sunghoon in the tightest hug. Falling into his lap on the couch and sitting there until both of them had lower back aches and lips that were swollen from kisses that could’ve twisted tongues, but today he’ll allow himself to be swallowed whole by Park Sunghoon and maybe, he’d be able to bed rot in peace before the stomach acid burned his skin.

“Ask me about my day,” Sunghoon ponders out loud. He’s unable to stop moving, brushing his face against the back of Sunoo’s head and back again, like he’s actively trying to smell every sud of Sunoo’s vanilla body wash and peach shampoo that was washed away in the shower, and breathe it in so it no longer lingered on Sunoo’s body, but in his lungs instead.

“H-how was your day?” Sunoo shudders when Sunghoon’s palm flattens against his abdomen. Cold against his skin, taking him by surprise. For someone who brought in the heat of the sun to the bed when he laid down, how was it possible he separate limbs were still this cold?

“Wrong,” Sunghoon mumbles mindlessly against the shell of Sunoo’s ear.

“Your day was wrong?” Sunoo’s eyebrows stitch together. Sunghoon’s fingers dance toward his navel, drawing every nerve in his body toward it.

“No,” there’s a kiss to the skin behind his ear, “you just asked that already.”

Sunoo whines when he feels Sunghoon press against him further. His hips are shackled against the bed and Sunghoon’s, his autonomy escaping him. It was like being cuddled by a weighted blanket that dipped and snuggled against the crevices of Sunoo’s body with every movement, inescapable and consuming.

“Did you ha—ve fun?” Sunoo asks, feeling as though his lungs have squashed themselves against his ribs. Sunghoon chuckles lowly behind Sunoo, long fingers inching up to Sunoo’s chest. It was slow. Intentional. Distracting him from the way Sunghoon’s leg tightened around him, pinning him directly below him. There was no part of Sunoo’s body that wasn’t being touched by Sunghoon, no place of him that was solely his own.

“Yes,” Sunghoon answers tactically, half focused on the conversation and the other half was on a mission, dividing Sunoo’s skin of what’s been properly felt under his fingers and what hasn’t. His thumb casts over Sunoo’s nipple, a brush that felt so easy and quick that Sunoo almost believed he imagined it in anticipation of it instead of feeling it.

“I had lots of fun,” Sunghoon carries on, words splintering in Sunoo’s ears as his hand slides across his chest to the other side, goosebumps in his wake. “Did you have fun today?”

Sunoo’s mouth opens but no words leave, just a tethering gasp that catches on the roof of his mouth and half punches out in his breath when Sunghoon fingers pinch tender skin and twist over the nub, Sunoo feeling it tweak somewhere deep in his tummy. Incapable of movement, Sunoo just accepts it. There’s a tremble in his hips that he ignores and a heat that slowly covers his spine, from the base to where Sunghoon has the fabric of his shirt bunched around the neckline as his lips skim against his nape. He’s not kissing. Not puckering his lips or wetting the skin, just sliding dry lips over moisturized skin, testing the bounce of the fabric as he reaches further down Sunoo’s upper back and back up again to repeat.

“Baby?” Sunghoon’s voice is soft, innocent. Unattached to the man who’s middle finger is circling around Sunoo’s nipple in deliberate motions. Sunoo feels it harden, a pinprick of heat scorching the nerves in his stomach again.

He was supposed to answer the question, he thinks, but he didn’t. Can’t. Doesn’t even remember what he did today because all of his thoughts splinter in his head by the rising heat that is alive in his stomach.

“Y-yeah hyung?” Sunoo asks the pillow. He feels a chuckled hum against his spine and then his attention drops from Sunoo’s chest, resting back against his navel.

“Are you having trouble paying attention?” Sunghoon asks, suddenly hugging Sunoo back to his chest and digging his face into Sunoo’s shoulder. More oxygen pulls into his lungs, a little easier to breathe with his head unclouded. He reaches a free hand up to Sunghoon’s hair, pulling out a soft sigh from him that exceeds the limitations of fabric and is felt against his clavicle despite his shirt resting over it.

“No,” Sunoo lies between his teeth. The show on his tablet is playing the credits, the room is basked in a blue tinged glow from outside, Sunghoon is behind him and has him locked in a hold. He’s not distracted, there’s just parts of this that move too chaotically for this atmosphere he’s created, yet he’s not upset with any of it, he’s just trying to catch up.

Sunghoon’s mind works fast. Once he gets the green light for something, he’s efficient. A hard worker in every aspect of his life. Determined. Even if that meant Sunoo was breathless and in tears that sting from the pleasure webbing through his limbs from aftershocks and oversensitivity.

The thing about Sunoo is he always had that green light turned on. Even on days like this.

“You smell good,” Sunghoon murmurs into Sunoo’s shoulder blade. Sunoo smiles at his words, brushing his nails against Sunghoon’s scalp in little scratches that pull noises from the older like a cat purring. “I missed you.”

“You saw me this morning,” Sunoo teases, the tiniest lilt in his voice. There’s a theoretical warmth that spreads throughout him, something doused in honey and tasted like candy with extra sugar measurements. The kind of mushy feeling that only Sunghoon could give him.

“You didn’t even text me back today,” Sunghoon’s muffled words match with the pout Sunoo is envisioning he has, still trapped and unable to turn around and properly hug his boyfriend back. He’d make a cocoon for Sunghoon. Wrap him up tightly in his fresh blanket with him until they were one. Press doting kisses all over his face until Sunghoon would surely take advantage and tell Sunoo to kiss his lips twice. Once more. Maybe a fourth time because one just never seemed to be enough. Five for good luck. Negotiate his way to seven before drowning Sunoo in his arms again and then complain about how hot the blanket was, push it away but never Sunoo. He’d never push Sunoo away.

“I was busy,” Sunoo says.

There’s footsteps and talking outside his door, the kind that echo off toward the end of the hallway where Sunoo’s bedroom was. A hum from his humidifier. The tablet paused on that “Are you still watching?” question at the beginning of this new episode. Life outside his bedroom was still happening, just as it had been all day, but it was unreachable for Sunoo. Now tangled up with the most important person, his life was here. Four walls and a steady breath filling a chest against his back.

“How can I make it up to you hyung?”

If Sunghoon were a dog, his ears would have physically perked up. Maybe the tail wag against the bed would be loud. He’d pant roughly against Sunoo in excitement and blame his shedding fur on the weather cycles. But because he’s human (or so he says), Sunghoon only pushed himself further against Sunoo in an attempt to show his excitement, zeroing any existing space — in fact, if we were looking at the numbers, they all started with negative because his body had absorbed Sunoo’s, adjusting the younger to lay flat before crawling on top of him, confusing the existing two person quota in this room as they were now one large lump on the bed.

Sunoo blinks up at Sunghoon, his second official look at him of the day, despite probably giving him a half-asleep goodbye this morning because he always did, even if he didn’t remember it. The younger adjusts so he can properly feel Sunghoon’s face, cupping his palm against his cheek and flicking his ear with his middle finger.

“Ow,” Sunghoon huffs with no visible pout.

He may have been the current seat of choice, but Sunghoon’s weight was on his own knees, one on either side of him.

“Ow?” Sunoo asks dubiously. “That hurt?”

“Yeah,” Sunghoon’s smirk is tiny, but visible. “Kiss it better.”

Sunoo eyes him through a suspiciously thin gaze, disbelieving this man was older than him with the way he took advantage of the situation so easily. He had the manipulation skills of a toddler, far too obvious to get away with it as easily as he did, but Sunoo was a sucker for the eyebrows and everything else.

So Sunoo lifts both arms, grabby hands enabled, coaxing Sunghoon to drop down for a more accessible kiss due to his current position. Sunghoon’s grin grows as he dips down, caging Sunoo in again, arms on either side of his head.

Sunoo directs Sunghoon’s face to the side, pressing a kiss to his ear. From here, he can smell Sunghoon’s shampoo and cologne, both distinguishable in their own ways; Sunoo has used his shampoo so much he knew what notes to look for, and the other from Sunghoon’s ability to always smell like his perfume even through the sweatiest of dance practices and concerts.

“Better, hyung?” Sunoo asks. He’s brushing Sunghoon’s hair behind his ear, thumbing against his cheek with the other. Sunghoon still hasn’t moved, eyes closed.

“No,” Sunghoon hums.

Sunoo rolls his eyes and presses another kiss just below Sunghoon’s ear.

“Still no,” Sunghoon replies.

Sunoo presses one against the curve on his jaw.

“You’re getting there.”

Sunoo moves Sunghoon’s face as his lips travel the space, his jawline a map of kisses that most likely left a sticky residue on them. The kisses shortened with time, firm and lasting to pecks of quick, fluid movements as Sunoo drew closer to the older’s lips, like they were magnetic and gravity was a lesser force between them. The fleeting kiss on the corner of Sunghoon’s mouth made Sunghoon absently follow him, searching for more, but Sunoo could play this game too — well and far better — so he skipped Sunghoon’s lips to place a chaste kiss against the other side of his mouth.

Sunghoon’s eyebrows lift in slight confusion as Sunoo continues his cure, all the way to the other ear.

“That should be enough,” Sunoo muses. He pulls away to watch Sunghoon’s eyelashes part, big brown eyes staring at him. The last bit of light in the room was reflecting back to him from those eyes, gleaming at him in a mix of confusion and a soft dissatisfaction.

“Who decided that?” Sunghoon asks, his voice low.

“Me,” Sunoo grins, twirling a bunch of Sunghoon’s hair around his index finger. “The decider of things.”

Sunghoon purses his lips in contempt, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he watches. Watches Sunoo rub his lips together with the remaining gloss that had been wiped off in his attempt to free himself from Sunghoon’s clutches and some left as a sticky keepsake on Sunghoon’s face.

“Well can the decider of things decide what he owes me for ignoring my texts all day?”

Sunghoon’s left hand drops as he settles his weight on Sunoo’s thighs. His fingers find Sunoo’s waist over the black shirt, fingers splaying against his ribs and thumb dipping toward his navel again.

“I gave you extra kisses,” Sunoo responds in a soft way, his stomach unfurling in a migration of butterflies. His palms slide back to Sunghoon’s cheeks and they squeeze, pushing his lips together so they open vertically.

“Those were for flicking my ear,” Sunghoon answers, despite it sounding slurred and silly. Both hands wrap around Sunoo’s wrists as he pulls them further, pressing his lips against the inside of the left one. “I’ve been so good all day.”

Once Sunoo makes the connection, his brain fizzles. He swallows his rapidly drying tongue, despite chugging the water bottle on his bedside table and refilling it just hours ago.

Despite what Sunghoon believes, he’s a very easy read for Sunoo. His wide range of emotions shift as easy and drastic as the tide of an ocean once he’s comfortable, going from loud and chaotic to slowly chipping, retreating back into himself as his social battery runs out. His moods grow too — like wildflowers — from playful to teasing to horny just as swiftly, powered by nature and an inability to be stagnant.

Sunghoon moves to Sunoo’s other wrist, a gentle kiss on tender skin.

“What do you need?” Sunoo outright asks, feeling curiously generous. One thing about Sunghoon was his inability to verbalize his wants and needs like Sunoo could. It would take multiple attempts at something before Sunghoon would say it, always whispered with reddened cheeks or pulled from him like teeth. Sunoo wasn’t the only one who got this treatment, but he handled it with more patience than some of the other members did.

Sunghoon blinks down at Sunoo slowly, fingers paused at the bend in Sunoo’s elbow. Sunoo swore the heartbeat joining his own wasn’t just a figment of his imagination, but the true power of Sunghoon’s being loud enough to hear from outside his own body. Their eyes locked, breaths synced.

“Kiss me more.”

The edges of Sunoo’s lips tilt skyward as he nods, letting Sunghoon drape down over the top of him again. At the last second, Sunoo twists so his kiss lands on Sunghoon’s cheek again, drawing a groan from his boyfriend.

“There,” Sunoo smiles. He knows he’s doing this at his own, probably ill-intentioned volition, but he couldn’t stop himself once the idea blossomed in his head, rooting deeply into his brain.

“Why?” Sunghoon’s forehead drops against the pillow near Sunoo’s, a whine escaping his lips.

“You never told me where you wanted the kiss, hyung.” Sunoo’s words lift, his pleasure obvious as he pushes another one against Sunghoon’s neck. “And I’m the decider.”

Sunoo thinks—a lenient, observational word—that if Sunghoon had the option, he’d melt into Sunoo and never reappear. Sunoo knows—the more accurate descriptor—Sunghoon had tested this theory time and time again, especially in situations that required sentences with ‘I want/need’.

Sunoo didn’t plan to start their evening together off with teaching communication skills, but somehow he’s ended up here. There were worse places to be than underneath your buff, puppy-like boyfriend who was pouting and using you as a comfort stuffed animal.

“Lips.”

“What?” Sunoo asks, his smile vaguely nearing one of pride and incredulousness, a constant tug in either direction.

“I want a kiss…” Sunghoon’s words are staticky against the pillow and Sunoo’s ear, “on my- my lips.”

Sunoo turns his head and pushes, until Sunghoon’s lips are against his and slotting into his. It takes not even seconds for Sunghoon to regain control over the situation, dominating Sunoo again, sliding his tongue between the crevices and tangling it up with the younger’s. It was never lasting, those unconfident moments, because Sunghoon was a confident person in general. He also, again, was unfathomably intense.

Sunoo feels his shirt being pushed upward, skin bare and soft hands scorching against his skin. His mouth was being pillaged, claimed. A tongue lacerating any kind of dryness he had claimed to have before, licking up against the ticklish roof of his mouth and behind his teeth. And this, Sunoo thinks, is the perfect way to end his lazy day off: his control taken from him completely. Surrendered. Sunoo didn’t even put up a fight against it.

His legs are locked beneath Sunghoon’s weight, a fact he only registers when there’s a hardness resting against his thigh. He wants to cant his hips up, respond to the kiss with the acknowledgment of knowing what direction it’s quickly taking, but he’s stuck.

He can only grab Sunghoon’s shoulders and gasp when there’s a roll of hips against him, a bodily reaction that pools heat in his stomach so quickly he feels dizzy, like his brain had oozed his consciousness into his dick. The hands on his torso aren’t there for long, already dipping back into the waistband of his shorts again and continuing further than their brief exploration earlier, stopping at his pelvis.

Sunghoon unlatches their lips, forehead against Sunoo’s. His eyes are down where his hands are, their puffed out breaths chaos between them.

“No underwear?” Sunghoon asks, fingertips brushing Sunoo’s half-hardness. Sunoo shivers violently, squinting the corners of his eyes.

“I-I wanted to be comfortable, hyung.” His words end on a whiny lilt, Sunghoon gripping his cock fully in his hand. There’s a loose tug before a thumb is pressing against his slit, Sunoo only tightening his thighs between Sunghoon’s hold. When Sunghoon sits up, the pressure of his body locks Sunoo down even further, legs useless.

“So you walk around the dorm with no underwear on?” Sunghoon asks, though he knows the answer is evidently a no. That’s an etiquette Sunoo has never had the opportunity to exact, staying to the confines of his room when commando.

“N-no,” Sunoo shakes his head as Sunghoon adjusts his grip around Sunoo’s dick, his hand leisurely moving toward the base and back to the tip. The agonizing disarray of thoughts that swarm in Sunoo’s head fight for dominance, torn between wanting Sunghoon to move faster, grip him more firmly, do a proper job at getting him off and distracting him with a kiss that performs mental gymnastics on Sunoo.

“Oh?” Sunghoon’s thumb swipes that dribble of precum that gathers at Sunoo’s tip. “You don’t?”

Sunoo can’t form words with the way his body burns like it’s covered in ice, his hair moving against his skin as he shakes his head again. He digs his fingernails into the older’s shoulders, half for stability and the other half for grounding. He felt close to melting when Sunghoon’s wettened thumb teases the head. Sunghoon setting him up for losing himself in this moment, despite the possibility that everyone else in the dorm was still awake. Hell, their manager might be seconds away from walking into the apartment and Sunoo couldn’t allow his moans to reach a decibel that was for ears other than his boyfriend.

Sunoo’s hips rut up against Sunghoon, fucking his fist.

“Hah-hyung!” Sunoo tries to hide his face in the pillow to muffle himself, unsuccessful.

“Yeah baby?” Sunghoon’s tongue is poking out the side of his lips, eyebrows set in determination. His rhythm on Sunoo is the same. His grip on Sunoo is the same. There’s no end in sight, just a continuation of pleasure that is rising faster than Sunoo can handle but not enough to shove him over the edge he can see. He wants more. He’s hard, painfully so, desperate for a touch that only Sunghoon can provide. Faster. Harder. Not keeping him on the outskirts of an almost fulfilling climax.

“Please.” Sunoo wants to swallow Sunghoon’s tongue. Feel it so far inside of his mouth that every crevice tastes like him, full-bodied and purely Sunghoon.

“Please what, Sunoo-yah?”

And the way it sounds is just like the way his hand moves loosely around Sunoo’s cock, teasing and antagonizing. Sunoo should put up a fight, key word being should, but he doesn’t. Instead he pouts, hands twitching against the length of Sunghoon’s neck and pulls, trying to urge the man to drop his entire body weight on Sunoo. Bury him. Suffocate him fully.

“Hyung,” Sunoo whispers, “kiss me.”

And Sunoo doesn’t say where because Sunghoon is a certified loser, a whipped man who takes direction from Sunoo like it’s his job and a glutton for kissing Sunoo. So he drops exactly where Sunoo wants him and doesn’t hesitate, kissing Sunoo until he’s breathless. Biting into the fat of his bottom lip. Sucking the tip of his tongue. Swallowing the moans from somewhere in Sunoo’s throat until he’s responding with little groans of his own, his hips rutting against his hand on Sunoo’s dick.

The amount of times Sunoo had been surprised by the size of Sunghoon’s dick could rival the shock he gets every time he’s reminded of his boyfriend’s stamina and seemingly nonexistent refractory period, cumming multiple times in their marathon rounds that would continue for more than twelve hours if Sunghoon was the one calling the shots.

So when his monster cock (Sunghoon hates the nickname, but Sunoo believes it truly is the only properly fitting adjective for his dick; “But it’s not a monster,” Sunghoon would sigh, “it’s a nice dick. Call it a blessing instead.”) thrusts against Sunoo’s, Sunoo can’t handle his teetering self-control any longer. He has to cum. Sooner rather than later. Now, maybe. Three seconds ago, preferably.

Sunghoon likes to believe he knows absolutely everything about Sunoo. From what time he wakes up in the morning to what treats he likes to eat depending on what he ate for dinner that specific day, so he must understand the urgency behind the mewl caught in Sunoo’s mouth and pulls away, disengaging in the kiss and hands pulling from Sunoo’s shorts.

“Wha-” Sunoo only has a moment to ask before he’s weightless, Sunghoon’s weight being on his own knees again, his lower half being lifted by the animosity displayed as Sunghoon pulled down Sunoo’s shorts. The fabric slid down his thighs and pooled near his knees, but stopped there, everything below his chest from his kneecaps being naked and on display.

Sunoo’s dick is hard and leaking, standing upright and proud like it’s about to sing the national anthem. There’s a blush he feels on his cheeks that cascades down his neck and chest and rivals the flush of his pink dick, unembarrassed and unbothered by it.

Sunoo’s more bothered by the hunger dancing in the dark of Sunghoon’s eyes, nearing delirious and unhinged. He looks ready to feast on Sunoo, but his face was focused, perhaps the most unnerving part about his trained gaze.

“Hyung,” Sunoo tries, except the word is dry and scratches in his throat. Sunghoon waits before finally connecting their eyes, traveling the naked space of Sunoo’s chest. His mind is elsewhere it seems, either moving ahead into lists and plans of what to do now that they’re in this position, or silently worshipping Sunoo in that way he does that spills out in incoherent murmurs later on when the pleasure is a little too much to hold it in anymore.

“Huh?” Sunghoon hums, sliding warm palms against Sunoo’s cold thighs. The blanket is forgotten, lost behind Sunghoon and only covering Sunoo’s feet.

At least I have that, he thinks.

“Do something,” Sunoo urges. He could too. Reach forward and push down Sunghoon’s sweatpants, take his dick in his hands before wetting it in his mouth. Pass the next hour by with just foreplay and both of them feel satiated enough to fall asleep, but there’s an itch in his body, one that brings an ache at the emptiness he feels every time he catches sight of Sunghoon’s blessing of a dick (it truly was a blessing) and can only be cured by what is both on the forefront of their minds.

“Oh pretty,” Sunghoon’s fang-like canines brandish from behind a grin, “I plan to.”

He spreads Sunoo’s thighs just barely, as much as his own legs around allow in the small space. His eyes drop from Sunoo’s full lips down to his dick again and then lower as he leans back slightly, using his thumb to lift Sunoo’s balls, enough to circle Sunoo’s hole with the tip of his thumb. It twitches at the attention, making an unpredicted gush of precum leak out of his dick.

“You have such a pretty hole,” Sunghoon offers as repentance, top teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He keeps his thumb there, padding the area with small circles that have the back of Sunoo’s neck prickling with heat that blends with the swirl of it in his stomach. “It’s so pink.”

“Hyuuung,” Sunoo mewls in embarrassment, tucking his face behind his arms.

“Yah Sunoo,” Sunghoon continues, “are you pink everywhere?” His other hand flies underneath Sunoo’s shirt, lifting it up to his neck. “Even your nipples are pink.” His index finger and thumb pinch the nub. “I think pink is your color, baby.”

A groan of embarrassment turns breathless due to the stimulation, his toes curling in his socks.

He wanted to tell Sunghoon to shut up, that there’s not even enough light in here to distinguish the colors on Sunoo’s body, but he wouldn’t lie that the idea of Sunghoon knowing everything about Sunoo — inside and out — turned him on even more than originally planned.

So he’s stuck, moaning at the tweak of his nipple and the circles around his hole that seem to be getting bigger, the tip of Sunghoon’s thumb dipping just the tinniest bit inside of him before pulling away again, spreading him open.

There’s a deep chuckle that hits Sunoo’s ear as his thighs tense, trying to close around the hand between his legs when there’s footsteps outside his bedroom door, the sudden life outside growing louder as Jake’s voice hits an octave breaks the atmosphere of Sunoo’s room. It’s jarring, a stampede of heartbeats going off in his chest.

“What’s wrong, Sunoo-yah?” Sunghoon asks. “Is it too much?”

Sunoo nods, still hidden behind his arms, biting into his forearm.

“Afraid we’re going to get caught?” Sunghoon’s devilish tone does nothing to soothe the high of alert Sunoo feels creep into his chest, an anxiety weaving through his pleasure.

Sunoo nods again. There’s a particularly rough pinch of his nipple between fingers that makes him shoot a deadly glare at Sunghoon, a spill of saliva starting to trail down his own arm.

“Funny,” Sunghoon ponders out loud and flattens his thumb at Sunoo’s hole, the rest of his fingers spread against the most sensitive part of Sunoo’s thigh. “I was just going to say I didn’t think you were being loud enough.”

Sunghoon’s hands disappear from Sunoo’s body and reappear at different places, pulling Sunoo’s arms away from his face and turning the pliant boy still coasting off the heavy handed pleasure rolling through him. Sunoo turns over, back to his position from when Sunghoon walked in, hands pushing his leg to bend as high up against the bed as his body allows.

Which was a lot more, as his foot slides through the hole of his shorts and his entire backside is for Sunghoon’s eyes to see.

Sunoo tucks his head in the space nearly underneath his pillow, head pushing it up against the headboard. Sunghoon’s hands smooth over his spine, taking the heat with them, directing it all the way to the base of Sunoo’s exposed spine. There’s a dip in the bed before Sunghoon’s nose follows the trail his hands had taken, stopping just at the base of Sunoo’s spine again.

“You smell so good, doll.”

When Sunghoon had said it before, it felt like a comment not meant for Sunoo’s ears, but rather a declaration of his thoughts. This time, it feels intentional, almost a threat to Sunoo’s dignity when he feels lips ghost over his spine.

“Hyung-” Sunoo warns before the rest of his sentence (already forgotten) is a series of punched out gasps. His cheeks are spread (defying the limitations of skin) by thumbs and Sunghoon’s tongue flattens against his hole in an unexpected motion, Sunoo trying to escape.

Sunghoon doesn’t reply, or he does, just not by words and instead by a satisfied groan that vibrates against Sunoo in the nastiest way. It rings through him in a frenzy, felt to the very end of every limb and dousing his brain in honey, coating every thought in a dizzy sensation.

Sunghoon licks upward before the tip of his tongue dips in Sunoo’s hole, using his saliva to coat Sunoo’s entrance. Sunoo’s cock rubbed against the sheets, adding to his building pleasure, a fast sprint toward a climax he’s been desperate for.

Sunghoon circles just the inside of his entrance, not diving any deeper but just right enough that it has Sunoo’s hand flying back to his hair, gripping tendrils between sweaty fingers and trying to pull him closer, pull him in.

Another hum reverberates through Sunoo’s body, shackling him to the hard on that’s picking up friction against the mattress. He couldn’t even think about how he needed to rewash them and be questioned about it, or be cursed with the cheaper spare sheet set he has stuffed in his closet for the rest of the week, bought for this exact purpose. Instead, his thoughts were ‘how the hell does he eat ass this well’ and ‘holy fuck right there oh my god’ — two things he couldn’t say with people still possibly existing just outside his bedroom door.

Sunghoon’s finger slide in next to his tongue, a squelch yanking Sunoo’s head up from where he’s sure he can taste fabric softener on his tongue from how hard he’s breathing it in and glaring down at Sunghoon from over his shoulder.

“Be quiet!” Sunoo hisses. The only acknowledgment he receives is a second finger being added in next to the first, and a clumsy lap on the outside of his hole before he pushed it right back in, spreading Sunoo even further.

Sunghoon’s long fingers scissor inside Sunoo, his entrance loosening to accommodate him, Sunoo’s body growing more and more distant from reality to the shockwave of heat consuming him whole. He feels dizzy when he stuffs his head into the pillow, trying not to suffocate Sunghoon as a victim to his own eagerness, fucking himself against the mattress and pushing himself back into Sunghoon’s face and hands.

He’s a big boy, he’ll figure out how not to die from eating ass himself.

Sunoo moans into the pillow, heated air burning his nostrils when he inhales. The hot tongue spearing into him in intervals before laving and licking at the skin around his entrance works in tandem with the now three fingers, curling inside of him, spreading him, each thrust inside getting closer and closer to his prostate, but off by just a few centimeters. Sunoo wanted to grab Sunghoon’s hand, push it inside of him so it hit all the right places, fuck against his face enough to cum, but he didn’t.

He could feel teeth sink into his perineum, nipping at the soft skin, electrifying his pulse. Everything felt just slightly off center, tangible euphoria exuding from every viable pore. He thinks he’ll go mad with pleasure before he can climax.

“Hyung!” Sunoo gasps on air that feels foreign to his lungs, tripping over a thready pulse overbearing in his ears. His body was screaming, begging for the release that was sizzling in the pit of his stomach. He was overwhelmed. It was still enjoyable, thankfully, his legs tensing in their held position against the bed.

A hum pilfers his walls, making him clench around Sunghoon’s fingers.

“I’m gonna cum,” Sunoo warns the pillow he’s speaking into, “p-put it i-hn-n your mouth.”

Sunoo normally wouldn’t be the first to suggest blowing his load in his boyfriend’s mouth, most times being the reasonable one trying to get him to spit it out in Sunoo’s hand or using it as makeshift lube in moments when they needed more than spit to get by, but he had just washed these sheets, so he needed it to go somewhere before they could dispose of it. Maybe he was finally losing it, admitting to a few screws fucked loose by his boyfriend, accepting his fate.

Luckily Sunghoon was both quick and resourceful, letting a glob of spit drip against his fingers he pushes further into Sunoo’s ass before turning him around by his hips, sitting him up on his side so he can drop in front of him and taking the tip of Sunoo’s cock into his mouth. It doesn’t take much effort, just a twist of Sunghoon’s fingers and a tongue teasing the slit of his head, for Sunoo to thrust himself fully into Sunghoon’s warm mouth, burying his load much further than anticipated.

Sunghoon gagged slightly around Sunoo, fingers still shoved to the knuckles in his ass, pulling Sunoo as close as he could. Sunoo’s body jerked, walls spasming erratically around Sunghoon’s fingers, cock throbbing as ropes of cum melted on Sunghoon’s tongue. A moan had ripped through him first, mouth open as he rode out his orgasm. There were three good seconds where Sunoo swore he had died and fully levitated, but was brought back to reality by Sunghoon’s still steadily moving fingers and not retreating figure.

“S-stop,” Sunoo slurred, yanking Sunghoon’s head off his dick by his hair. Sunghoon’s grin was devilish, satisfied. Maybe a little more unhinged than intended. There’s beauty in his madness, all tangled up in sharp glances and hands that peruse skin like he’s taken ownership, a compass of his own merit.

He’s swallowed it. There’s wetness shining against his face that Sunoo reaches down to wipe away, but stops when fingers brush against his prostate.

“Fuck,” Sunoo whines. He has to stop himself from pulling away completely on his escape of Sunghoon’s touch, accustomed to the shock of oversensitivity, that heat remaining a black hole in his body that continues to swallow him — body and all — again and again. Each orgasm would leave him deficient in his senses, losing coherent speech quicker with every breathy moan, sight due to the tears that slide down his cheeks and pool near his ears, only able to register Sunghoon in him, on him, touching him.

He had moved a third of an inch, maybe less, when Sunghoon ceased his movements, fingers pulling from Sunoo’s entrance and gripping his flesh. He heaved his body upward, landing soiled kisses against Sunoo’s abdomen, feeling it flex with every brush. There’s a string of suppressed laughs against Sunoo that he’s trying hard not to comment on, not biting the obvious bait hanging before him.

When Sunghoon finds his way to Sunoo’s mouth, it’s salty. The kind of kiss where Sunoo can taste himself lingering on Sunghoon’s tongue that licks into his parted lips, baptizing his tastebuds in himself. Sunoo wasn’t sure he was kissing back, or maybe he was, so far out of his own body that even his grip on Sunghoon’s shoulders felt like a half baked movement.

“What do you think, pretty?” Sunghoon’s breath mingles with Sunoo’s, the weight of Sunghoon’s forehead pressing against his own.

He finally dares to look at his boyfriend, gauging his features through the suddenly clear vision he’s sporting. Sunoo remembers when they had first started dating and had never truly seen someone so visibly display their hunger for another person as obviously as Sunghoon had, he hadn’t even thought it was possible. Eyes crest over into an inextinguishable fire, a vivid animosity takes over, every expression dripping in a desire that made Sunoo claustrophobic.

Sunghoon controls everything in those moments. From the cadence of Sunoo’s breaths to when his pleasure broke through and overwhelmed him. Like now, hanging in the balance of euphoria still coursing through his veins and the anticipation of Sunghoon’s next move.

“About what?” Sunoo’s voice is thin, tinny. He doesn’t even realize that he’s still whispering until Sunghoon’s thumb brushes against his Adam’s apple, leaning over to press a kiss right next to it. And in true Sunghoon fashion, the sweet moments that pop through the intense haze, the cherry on top to his personality.

“Sex?” Sunghoon sighs with his words, thumb finding the lobe of Sunoo’s ear and rubbing it. “Sex with me? In this bed? Right now?”

“Isn’t that what we were doing already, hyung?” Sunoo asks, threading his naked legs over Sunghoon’s hip. He’s thankful there’s a pillow below his head, because his blanket had entirely disappeared. Being lazy was still an option today, he’d allow Sunghoon to do everything and all he wanted.

There’s a precise look on Sunghoon’s face he gets when he’s deep in thought, weighing out options. Here Sunoo was presenting himself on a platter for him, and Sunghoon was thinking.

How frustrating was it for Sunoo to not live inside Sunghoon’s head, or even just be privy to even just an hour of those thoughts?

“Yes,” Sunghoon nods slowly. He sandwiches his free hand underneath Sunoo’s waist, Sunoo responding by wrapping both around his neck. The one on his ear had reached down for Sunoo’s knee, firmly placing it against Sunghoon’s hip. In this position, Sunoo could feel Sunghoon’s untouched cock still in the same place in his sweats, and the wet spot of the fabric brush against the inside of his thigh.

It sent chills down his spine. Delicious ones. The kind of chills that spent sparks of heat to limbs that reignited.

Sunghoon leans forward then, unable to help himself. They’re glued to one another, tongues tying them together in a knot. The kiss is hot, desperate even though Sunoo is a little worn from his climax. His head is spinning on his neck, fuzzy thoughts of “What next” becoming clearer and more prominent.

There’s a stampede of emotions in his chest, all of them directing toward Sunghoon, who’s not in his body but of his body, his being tucked so tightly in the places Sunoo didn’t fill. They were codependent in a respectful way, but every so often, it reared a weirdly invasive question of “but is it enough?” that didn’t feel healthy, but existed in moments where Sunoo felt as though he could devour Sunghoon whole, much like the latter often felt.

So is it enough? When Sunoo’s hands are reaching forward and pulling Sunghoon’s sweatpants down with reckless urgency (because surprisingly, he’s still fully clothed), the kind that gets them caught, the kind that asks Sunghoon to go harder and faster, asks to make Sunoo cry, asks him to go at it in the bathroom at the company building.

It feels like enough when Sunghoon is already responding like he’s been starved, biting particularly hard into Sunoo’s bottom lip and pulling apart and Sunoo can see red, the red band of Sunghoon’s Calvin Kleins and the red fat tip of his cock that pokes out and is in his hand before he can properly pull his underwear down. Sunoo fist catch against Sunghoon’s underwear as he fucks his hand around him, not all of it of course (there’s still that sliver of skin that remains exposed because Sunoo fingers won’t close all the way around Sunghoon’s dick without squeezing painfully) but he twists his hand as he drags it down and back up again, putting a light pressure on his thumb as he did.

Sunghoon is distracted by Sunoo’s collarbones enough to let out a louder than anticipated moan against skin, wincing before he sinks his teeth into Sunoo’s shoulder when Sunoo tightens his grip around his girth. There’s a slobbery kiss that replaces it quickly, like he’s reminded Sunoo isn’t a chew toy and he can’t actually get a chunk out of him, but Sunoo’s not paying attention. His eyes are on Sunghoon’s cock, making his hand look so small, disappearing from behind his thumb only to reappear a few seconds later as his hips thrust forward.

He can’t tell if the little muffled groans are out of relief for finally getting touched, his cock throbbing and heavy and hot with want in Sunoo’s hand, or if Sunoo is hurting him just enough for it to be pleasurable, but he can’t stop. His grip tightens around Sunghoon’s head and he moves his thumb back to his slit, placing dizzying slow circles against the opening. Watching precum bubble from it before he used it to slide back down his cock. Sunghoon chokes against Sunoo’s pillow and ear, wedging his head in there like he’s simultaneously trying to escape and get closer.

Sunoo was enamored. His reactions, his sounds, the way his hips were fucking without a care in the world, like he couldn’t help it. Like Sunoo’s touch was enough to drive him just crazy enough to loosen that steadying persona he wore so often. Sunoo knew he did. Unraveled the more stoney sides of Sunghoon easily, disarmed him so quickly that Sunghoon was left unsure of what to do with himself both inside and outside the bedroom, but its always particularly fascinating to watch him drown in his pleasure and submission to Sunoo without a second thought. They took careful care of one another. A balance between two opposites.

“Baby,” Sunghoon’s whisper is rough and bordering a cry, his hand leaving where he was absently fondling Sunoo’s ear to where Sunoo was touching him, wrapping around his wrist, stopping him. Sunoo is confused for a moment before he’s back on his stomach, his hips pinned by heavy hands, Sunghoon sat in between his thighs. “I’m really sorry, I don’t think I can stop myself.”

Sunoo can only gasp a withered "hyung" into the pillow that’s ripe with both his and Sunghoon’s sweat and that damned fabric softener when he feels a thumb in his hole, and then the wetness of Sunghoon’s cock. They get pushed in at the same time, the bend of Sunghoon’s thumb making space for his dick to slowly enter, filling him full before he can even get all the way in.

He was held down, couldn’t react in any other way then relaxing his spine and eating more of Sunghoon than expected, the both of them letting out noises that didn’t sound human. Sunghoon was inching forward with all the patience of a saint, grinding into Sunoo with shallow thrusts, allowing him to open at a pace that was at intervals of rushed and the slowest anyone had ever been.

“Gods you’re amazing,” Sunghoon voices. It washes over Sunoo’s body in a heatwave, his toes catching against the blanket as they scrunch. “So pretty, so perfect for me.”

Sunoo wants to respond to it with something catty, but his words catch on incoherent syllables that tumble against his pillow. Sunghoon pushes all the way in, filling Sunoo, forcing him further against the bed like his own cock and the bulge in his stomach weren’t rubbing together in a way that was sending short little shocks to Sunoo’s spine. Like even in this sense, their dicks were still trying to touch.

“Am I too deep, pretty?” Sunghoon asks, emphasizing his position by leaning forward, his free hand traveling from Sunoo’s hip to his waist and back down again. Sunoo didn’t know if it was meant to help or what, but he just shook his head, hearing the cocky grin that took Sunghoon face.

He rolled his hips against Sunoo’s ass, the tip of his cock dragging in its incredibly small space against Sunoo’s walls, teasing a spot that only Sunghoon could reach.

Sunoo knows. He’s tried with dildos and vibrators. Nothing compares to Park Sunghoon.

“Ssssso full,” Sunoo twists his head so he can breathe, cheek to mattress. He shifts forward as best he can (obviously not by much) and fucks back against Sunghoon, weaseling some stimulation from the angle. He has to press his knees against the bed to do it, but they’re accommodating Sunghoon behind him. It’s awkward. “Do something. Please.”

Sunghoon responds with his hands, easing his thumb out of Sunoo and gripping either side of his ass, pulling them apart. He hums, as if in thought (he can still think?), and then his thumb is back around Sunoo’s hole, rubbing lightly around it this time.

“I don’t know,” Sunghoon mumbles, his own shivers from the little ounce of stimulation his cock received from him touch, “I fill you up so well. I think you look cute as my cock warmer.”

Sunoo fought his way forward again, whimpering as he pressed himself against the bed and back again, desperate. He can feel Sunghoon’s sweater brush against his skin with every movement. A little put out he’s basically naked and exposed while Sunghoon was still dressed.

“Ah,” Sunoo mewls. He continues his little gyrations as best he could, his body both accepting the stimulus of the fabric on his dick and shriveling back by it almost being too much. “If I cum ah-on my own, will you fuck me?”

Sunghoon laughs then, watching from his perch behind Sunoo. Sunoo can feel every time Sunghoon’s thighs tense in reaction to Sunoo clenching around Sunghoon. He’s not entirely unaffected, but Sunghoon is a predator down to his core. He enjoys playing with his food too much.

A hand pushes on the middle of Sunoo’s back then, when Sunoo had wiggled enough to push his ass fully against Sunghoon. He’s stuck.

“Will you cum just from hyung's dick inside you?” Sunghoon asks, leaning over Sunoo’s back, lips against the shell of his ear. Sunoo can see his other hand hold himself up against the bed, fingers digging into the sheets. His forearm exposed with that rolled up sleeve and veins straining obviously so. He pushes further again, enough to have Sunoo biting into fabric. He hates the feel of it against his teeth.

“Huh, Sunoo-yah?” Sunghoon does it again, rearing back just enough to unsheathe himself halfway and push forward, the furthest he had gotten this entire time. It punches a nonconsensual breath out of Sunoo’s lungs, low and wanton. Sunoo thinks he did it on purpose because it’s louder than any noise they’ve made this time and Sunoo doesn’t care. He wants something more now.

“Is my baby going to make a mess of his clean bed because of hyung's cock?”

Every word from Sunghoon is boozy. Dizzying to Sunoo whose lungs are only half full before he’s breathing out again and another shallow grind is teasing him from the inside out, every single sensation more electric and real than the last one. He’s dripping against the bed and he feels gooey, like he’s dripping everywhere, a wet spot forming under his chin and his hole slippery from where it grips Sunghoon.

Sunoo wants to ask - no, demand how the hell this man hasn’t given into his pleasure and fucked the life out Sunoo when he had been so close to cumming just from Sunoo’s hand not even minutes before. What did he eat to make him switch so quickly? Was it the gym? Should Sunoo go to the gym?

“Baaaaby,” Sunghoon pulls out again and fucks into him, forcefully. Attention grabbing. Ah, Sunoo was in his head again. “Focus.”

And if it weren’t for the way he was being held against the bed, Sunoo would’ve overpowered him and ridden Sunghoon, used his cock for his own pleasure and hit all the right spots at the right angle and cum so hard he was seeing stars. Gotten him naked and milked of every last drop out of Sunghoon as well, not satisfied until his hole was dripping and frothed over with milky cum. Although he didn’t care for the term, Sunoo was a cum slut. For Sunghoon, he’d be anything.

“I’m just thinking ah-about how you ruined my bed ro-ah-t.”

Park Sunghoon is a menace, Sunoo thinks with every purposefully shallow grind of his hips directed right at his prostate. It tickles, teases against it enough for the younger to shudder visibly in his skin, goosebumps prickling his skin painfully sharp. The thick heat overtaking his stomach carries a current of intensity, washing over him in one moment and pulling away just as quick.

The worst of this is he knows Sunghoon’s doing all of this on purpose. That he gets off on those moments when Sunoo is desperate and crying and begging from constant teasing. That even in softer moments that smell like the fabric softener everyone in this dorm uses and a candle that’s wick is slowly being buried by wax, Sunghoon was still in control enough to have Sunoo whimpering like they were the only two in the world.

“Oh?” Sunghoon picks up on the lie quickly, sinking back into Sunoo’s heat. He’s picked up a rhythm that should be illegal, pushing himself back up, thrusting every inhale Sunoo takes so it’s cut short and chaotic. “Ruined it?”

And his movements stutter suddenly, with Sunoo’s only form of retaliation, tightening so hard around him that they both stop for a moment. Sunghoon’s heavy breathing is the only sign he’s faltering, drooping against that menacingly teasing facade. Sunoo can feel his heartbeat in his ears, pulsing around his knuckles as he grabs his pillow. If it were a living being, it’d be dead by the animosity Sunoo is unleashing on it.

Sunoo nods when Sunghoon slowly inches forward again and pulls out again, picking up a little more velocity. Sunoo sighs. Thank gods.

“I can’t have my little Sunoo-yah thinking that,” Sunghoon grabs his hips and fucks forward roughly, “now can I?”

Sunoo’s bladder felt full. Every inch of his body was alive and was working itself into overtime, but the constant push against his stomach from the inside was hypnotizing. A pleasure that was dipping into pain, an anxiety that he might actually pee himself building in his head like an afterthought, the gears in his head not shifting fast enough to keep that thought from being his main concern. His main concern, obviously, was cumming.

Sunoo’s body slowly unravels. He’s exhausted. From wanting to release, from clenching every muscle in anticipation, from trying to find the right words to respond to words he’s barely paying attention to. His dick is painfully hard and ready to burst, a sweep of fabric against his tip and his boyfriend’s dick filling him up.

The dislocation his body makes from his mind as it slowly shuts off is euphoric, succumbing to the power behind slow and rough thrusts. He loses the pillow somewhere above him as he fucks himself back against Sunghoon’s hips on off thrusts, trying to coax him for more. Take more. Give me more. Give me all of it.

He becomes a slave to his pleasure that tethers itself to Sunghoon’s, heavy grunts behind him. Sunoo can only receive it. Receive the devilish toying to his body, the inability to see his lover’s face, the hands holding him down. At least this time, Sunghoon actually seems keen on giving Sunoo what he wants, just at his own pace.

Sunghoon pulls out almost completely, only the head of his cock inhabiting Sunoo’s hole, and reaches forward to grab a fistful of Sunoo’s hair. He leans forward, careful not to move anymore inside of Sunoo than he already is. Lips against the nape of Sunoo’s neck, fast tracking invisible pleasure.

“You’re right doll,” Sunghoon’s lips are right against the shell of Sunoo’s ear. “This is fun. I should’ve done this today too.”

Sunghoon thrusts forward, holding Sunoo against him, the both of them moaning in tandem. It came over him like a cold shower, icing his lungs and frazzling every nerve in his body. It was blinding, pleasure reheating his body as he melted into it, his limbs shivering as cum shot against the bed, warming up his overheated and overfilled stomach. A fight between cold and hot, stagnancy on a line so thin and falling so quickly he didn’t have time to prepare, his climax taking hold of him and shoving him over that edge with no safe landing.

"H-hyungg!"

“Sunoo-yah,” Sunghoon grunts as Sunoo cries into the air, uncaring that they were not alone in the dorm. His eyes were unfocusing and fuzzy, dangerously close to rolling in the back of his head and never returning. “Fuck, you’re making a mess.” Sunghoon ground against him, every touch to his prostate making more cum shoot from his dick, wetting the bed, sticking to his sweaty skin.

“You feel so good,” Sunghoon slurs and his forehead is on Sunoo’s shoulder, hands on his hips, pulling Sunoo up to meet disorienting thrusts. “It’s like you’re made for me, Sunoo.”

Sunoo couldn’t breathe. His chest was clogged with that factory born clean smell and sunshine and Sunghoon and hot air that singed his esophagus. He was too lightheaded to register the bite against his shoulder, his shirt neckline bunched up and stretched, the teeth sinking in but never breaking skin, the warmth of Sunghoon’s tongue running over him until much later, when his heartbeat felt apart of him rather than something playing at full volume somewhere in the room.

Sunghoon’s body is over him, leaning over him, grabbing Sunoo’s chin and forcing his opened mouth against his, licking in as if all that empty space was just for Sunghoon’s tongue. He’s rolling into Sunoo forcefully. Unkempt. Nearing his edge and getting off on the noises Sunoo was no longer conducting, just meeting Sunghoon’s mouth.

Sunoo’s overstimulated cock rubs uselessly against the bed, raw and spent. He’s pretty sure he peed when he came, but he can’t even feel his toes anymore. Let alone care about what a mess he’s just made and will have to clean up.

Sunghoon presses closer, deeper, nearly choking Sunoo from how deep he reaches as he cums, shuddering against Sunoo. Sunoo trembles against him, no strength left in his body and mind, used up and loved like Sunghoon’s favorite doll. The intensity of the moment peels back softly, unwrapped and exposed as Sunghoon calms from his high, still thrusting into Sunoo slowly like he’s trying to bury his load deeper inside of him than his dick can reach, until it’s bubbling in Sunoo’s throat.

They don’t break away immediately. Sunoo catches his breath while Sunghoon decorates Sunoo’s neck and the back of his shoulders in fleeting kisses. Sunoo can barely keep his eyes open, a constant shiver in his body that won’t go away. He didn’t do much, but being Sunghoon’s pillow princess was hard work when the man had enough energy to power the sun in him.

“Oh!” Sunghoon shifts suddenly, pushing himself up and accidentally out of Sunoo, the both of them making noises of discomfort. Sunoo didn’t even know how he had enough life left in his body to turn over underneath Sunghoon, his legs aching from being in the same angle almost the entire time (it comes with a lot of help from Sunghoon, but for his pride, he did it on his own).

“I bought sheets!” Sunghoon grins down at Sunoo when they’re facing one another, skin blushed and dusky even in the dark that now invades Sunoo’s room. His pants are barely pulled down, just enough for his privates to be exposed. He’s even still wearing the sweater he came in, probably uncomfortably hot at this point, but Sunghoon doesn’t seem to mind.

“Sheets?” Sunoo asks, ignoring the hoarseness in it.

“Yes, I bought you new sheets.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” Sunghoon asks, dropping his head to the side as he blinks down at Sunoo.

“For you or me?” Sunoo asks, lifting his hand weakly up to Sunghoon’s hair and brushing the bit that was falling against his forehead to the side. There’s sweat gathered there, Sunoo will have to shower again with the way both of them are drenched.

“For whoever needs them?”

“What if I told you Ni-ki needs new sheets?” Sunoo teases back lightly, watching Sunghoon shake his head.

“He needs to buy his own.” Sunghoon falls against the bed, uncaring about the huge wet spot soaking the sheets. His clothes are probably uncomfortable at this point. “He won’t like these. They’re pink.”

“What?”