Archive of Our Own

Yeon Sieun’s first impression of the base is that it’s massive. He’s being transferred to the base at an unfavourable time; exceptional recruits receive their letters of promotion at this time of the year, but all Sieun had to show for his year and a half stint in his unit was a letter reassigning him elsewhere. 

The road is bumpy, and the recruit assigned to driving him keeps trying to make conversation. 

“My main role is in logistics and supply,” the recruit says, pushing his glasses up from where they’d slid down his nose. 

So an errand boy, Sieun thinks to himself. Better than being sent to combat training, he supposes. 

“Have you received your assignment yet?” 

“You’ve already asked me that,” Sieun replies quietly as he stares out the window. The answer’s no; he’s been informed in the letter now residing in his rucksack that he’s expected to report to the squadron commander first thing in the morning tomorrow to get his official assignment in the team. 

“Oh, sorry, sorry! I, uh, I get a little uncomfortable with silence.”

Sieun doesn’t reply. The jeep starts bouncing a little more, jostling Sieun as they start to go off track. Their surroundings get a little foggier as the last of the sunset morphs into twilight. Sieun raises his arm to grip onto the grab handle closest to him, and as he does so, he notices a military truck rapidly catching up to them. Dust sprays upwards from its tyres as it catches up and maintains speed with the jeep, carrying a squadron of soldiers dressed in full gear. 

The first thing Sieun notices is the arm hanging off the side of the truck bed, toying with a lighter and flicking it off and on. He follows the arm up to a helmet-less, painted face, and sheared short hair. He blinks, breathing in a sharp inhale of air when he notices the soldier’s eyes on him. The man’s gaze is sharp, and the diagonal strip of dark red paint slashing over his cheeks do nothing to dull the insolence in his eyes as they roam Sieun’s figure. 

The soldier toys with the cigarette in his mouth, flashes of tongue showing behind the half-purse of his lips. His defined jaw works as he exhales, cheeks raising into a leer when his teammate turns to say something in his ear, dark eyes fixated on Sieun the whole time. 

Sieun hears the recruit beside him making a choked noise. He bites his lip, willing himself to not look away, and then– 

The soldier’s tongue flashes out to flick over his lip as he takes one last puff and removes the cigarette from his mouth. His face flickers, creasing into a taunting smirk that shows teeth.

He flicks his cigarette at Sieun with a lazy twist of the wrist. It hits the jeep’s window, bouncing off. 

Sieun startles, and the truck peels off. 

The next morning, Sieun blinks awake before the first morning call, sitting upright as is routine. He folds up his sleeping kit methodically and tucks it away in his cubby, ignoring the wronged groan that someone throws in his direction. He’s already fully dressed by the time the wake-up calls start flooding the barracks, feet carrying him silently towards the administrative building. 

Sieun stops in front of what he hopes is the right door, reading the shiny plaque on it. 

Sergeant Ahn Suho.

He raises his hand, takes a deep breath, and knocks once. 

“Enter.”

Sieun’s back is straight as he marches to a stop in the middle of the office and salutes. “Private Yeon Sieun reporting for duty, sir.” 

The Sergeant has his back turned towards Sieun, and his shoulders look wide and strong in his uniform. Sieun doesn’t move from his position, keeping his gaze straight and ahead as he hears the clang of a drawer closing shut. 

Sergeant Ahn Suho turns, meeting Sieun’s gaze with sharp, cutting eyes. His collar is neat, buttoned to the throat, and his strides are long as he crosses the table to stand before Sieun’s saluting form. He’s tall; taller than Sieun by miles, and Sieun’s gaze only reaches his shoulder. His physique rivals that of the elite forces’, neck corded and tanned, shoulders stretching his uniform wide, his toned forearms exuding strength where they’re folded by his chest. 

“At ease,” Sergeant Ahn Suho replies. His voice is low, carrying a huskiness to it suggestive of someone who smokes. 

Sieun swallows, recognition sparking in his eyes. The other man seems to notice, the corner of his mouth giving a twitch. Sieun, feeling oddly aware of his breathing, stands at ease. He keeps his gaze focused on Sergeant Ahn’s collar, mind flickering to an audacious leer spreading over cigarette-stained lips. He watches as the older man leans backwards against the desk, long legs coming to stretch insouciantly before Sieun’s figure. His boots cross at the ankles. 

“Eyes on me, Private Yeon.” 

Sieun keeps his gaze trained stubbornly on Sergeant Ahn’s neck for a few long seconds, but eventually raises them to meet familiar, lidded eyes. Sergeant Ahn’s face is impassive as his dark, brazen gaze trails down Sieun’s body, studying every inch of him, heavy and without hurry. It boomerangs back once it reaches his feet, and Sieun digs his nails into his palms behind his back, willing himself not to give into the urge to fidget. He bites the inside of his cheek, studying the moue of Sergeant Ahn’s lips when that gaze fastens on the smiley face badge pinned to the front of his uniform. 

Sergeant Ahn’s eyes fasten to his throat when Sieun swallows, then snaps back to his face. His gaze is heavy, and slow as molasses. He raises an eyebrow. “Should I give you special treatment, Private Yeon?” 

The way his lips shape around the syllables of special treatment cuts like a hot knife in Sieun’s belly. Sieun’s breath stutters out of him, loud in the small room.

He takes a deep breath and firms his jaw. “No, Sergeant,” he replies, holding the other man’s gaze. He’s sure that the Sergeant knows of his circumstances. He’d recently lost a family member, but they’d been estranged. 

The office is silent, the space between them loaded, until Sergeant Ahn breaks it like a sledgehammer through a window. 

“Kitchen duty,” Ahn Suho says, face devoid of emotion as he hands Sieun’s assignment to him. “The previous cook from our squad got married.” He rises from his seat against the table, the crisp pressed edge of his uniform touching Sieun’s chest as he brushes past. 

Sieun looks away, finally breaking eye contact. He looks down, stares at his boot laces, and nods. 

Sergeant Ahn just goes back to doing his work, dismissing him without another word. Sieun exits, feeling the door close shut behind him. As he hurries to roll call, he touches his forearms absently, brushing over raised goosebumps. 

Sieuns spends his first few days on base learning how to work the ropes in the kitchen. A recruit named Seo Juntae had been tasked with showing him around and teaching him what needed to be done, but Juntae had taken one look at the way Sieun held a kitchen knife on the first day, and had pulled a face. Following that, Sieun is assigned to washing dishes, as well as standing in the breakfast and lunch line to ladle food for the soldiers. Not one to give up, Sieun watches the recruit assigned to prep work, observing the way he handles the knife to prepare ingredients. 

Sieun is placed on lunchbox duty from day four onwards, and spends the rest of his mornings helping the prep guy with dicing vegetables as well as assembling dosirak for the combat platoon. 

Working in the kitchen is new to Sieun, but as someone who’d been through active combat training for months, it’s enjoyable in a different way. Sieun still gets to follow a routine without having officers screaming in his face, and he’s privy to more information than he’d be otherwise, just because people talk when they eat. It’s how he finds out that Sergeant Ahn has been with the army for close to a decade, and had conscripted out of high school. Sieun does the mental math, and decides that Sergeant Ahn is probably quite a few years older than him. 

On day eight, Juntae eyes the new confidence suffusing Sieun’s movements, and asks Sieun if he’d like to partake in cooking duties. Sieun agrees. They start him off slow, assigning him to prepare a soup of his choice for his squad. The squads in the platoon take turns doing different combat training, and his squad happens to be doing advanced drills this week. 

“Can I make seaweed soup?” Sieun asks, already in the midst of pulling the seaweed out of the pantry and slicing them into neat strips. 

“Of course,” Juntae nods, sending him an encouraging smile. The rest of the team are off to have their own meals, but Juntae had brought his kimbap into the kitchen to keep Sieun company. “They’ll be so tired from training that anything will taste good. Besides, they still have the dosirak; the soup’s just extra.” 

Sieun nods, getting to work. Tea time is reserved for squads doing their advanced training week, so it’s only Sieun in the dining hall after Juntae inevitably leaves. 

Ahn Suho’s the first one to arrive. He strolls up to the kitchen window, and when Sieun doesn’t greet him immediately, bypasses the neatly stacked metal lunchboxes, and slips inside on silent feet. 

“You’re not gonna greet me?” A voice comes from behind Sieun. 

Sieun turns, catches Sergeant Ahn’s looming presence and immediately salutes. The ladle in his hand drops back into the pot, disturbing the floating pieces of seaweed in it. The other man just grunts in acknowledgement, then jerks his head to the pot in a silent command. 

Sieun bends at the waist, retrieving enough bowls for the whole squad from the lower shelf of the kitchen counter. He ladles a serving of the soup into the bowl and hands it over to his squad commander. 

Sergeant Ahn’s fingers are dark, stained with gun oil, and his crew neck is stained with sweat. He accepts the bowl from Sieun without ceremony, and bypasses the spoon offered to him. Lifting the bowl to his lips, he eyes Sieun over its rim as he takes his first sip. 

Sieun tries not to make it too obvious that he’s observing the other man for his reaction. It’s the first time Sieun’s cooked something that’s not instant noodles, and the soup has great colour. The surface looks glossy from the sesame oil that Sieun had drizzled in, and it smells like what seaweed soup should be. He watches when the Sergeant lowers the bowl from his lips, waiting for the verdict expectantly. 

Sergeant Ahn’s face is devoid of expression as he swallows the mouthful of soup. He tongues the inside of his cheek, and beckons for Sieun to go close with a finger. “Come closer, Private Yeon,” he says, face impassive. 

Sieun does. 

Sergeant Ahn’s hand shoots out the instant Sieun gets in range. He grips Sieun’s chin, face morphing into a stormy cloud as he crowds Sieun against the counter. “Open,” Suho orders as he presses his bowl to Sieun’s lips, forcing the remains down Sieun’s throat. 

Sieun gasps at the sheer strength pushing him forward, squeezing his eyes shut as he almost inhales the first mouthful. Soup sloshes down the sides of his mouth and onto his uniform, and panic makes his hands come up to grip the other man’s, scratching rock-solid forearms as he thrashes against Sergeant Ahn’s sweat-damp chest. 

“Swallow. That’s an order,” Sergeant Ahn’s face is close to Sieun’s own as he commands into the scant space between them. 

Sieun blinks, lashes damp, eyes watering from almost choking. He swallows his first mouthful and grimaces, but the soup just keeps coming. Aggrieved noises escape his throat, but the other man doesn’t relent, gaze fixated on Sieun’s face. 

Sieun collapses against the counter when the Sergeant finally steps away, after the last drop of soup is gone. 

Suho takes a step back, gaze catching on Sieun’s soup-slicked lips. There’s spillage across his chest, and Sieun’s cheeks are stained dark by finger marks of gun oil residue. Suho looks at his fingers, not having realised that he’d accidentally stained them during training. 

The pitiful, dewy-eyed look that Sieun throws his way almost has him reevaluating how aggressive he’d been. He takes a sharp breath to quell his anger, then sucks at his teeth, tasting the sugary-sweet remnants of the soup. “Fucking taste your food next time, newbie. Feeding something like that to your teammates during advanced combat week is a killable offense around these bits.” 

“Yes, Sergeant,” Sieun mumbles, saluting as Sergeant Ahn takes his leave. The other man doesn’t even pick up a dosirak, his face a dark stormcloud as he leaves entirely. Outside, it starts drizzling, rain pitter-pattering against the windows of the mess hall. Sieun eyes the jar of sugar that he’d mistakenly taken as salt sitting innocently on his countertop, and starts tossing the soup away. 

The first of Sieun’s squad members trickle in, drenched to the bone. Sieun listens to their idle grumbles of how the Sergeant had left them in the dust again, and makes up an excuse for why there’s no hot soup. Instead, he serves piping hot milk tea. 

Sieun always wakes up before everyone else in his barracks because he has to do prep work for breakfast duty, and he sleeps after everyone else because he has to clean up after dinner duty. The privilege the kitchen recruits have is free downtime between mealtimes, which Sieun utilises to take naps and occasionally go for jogs to keep his fitness up. 

It’s during one of his jogs in the evening where he realises he’s being followed. The other soldier looks slighty older than him, and he subtly tails Sieun, forcing Sieun to cut his jog short. They’re in a quiet area a little ways off the closest patrolling unit when Sieun stops and turns around. 

The guy eyes Sieun up as he gets closer, lips curling into a smirk. “You’re Yeon Sieun. Ahn Suho’s latest.”

Sieun furrows his brows, not liking words coming from the other man’s mouth. His lips purse into a tight, firm line as he squares his shoulders. “Can I help you?” 

“Damn,” the man says, licking his lips. He’s taller than Sieun, as everyone’s wont to be recently. “No wonder he’s been hiding you away. That face of yours…” 

It’s at that point that Sieun realises what’s going on. He watches the soldier adjust his pants, lips curling in distaste. He’s heard of the practice before, of soldiers propositioning each other, but nobody had tried it with him at his old base considering he’d been armed with a weapon in easy reach most of the time.

And with such a sleazy look too, his mind supplies. 

“Not interested,” Sieun replies curtly, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes as he starts jogging at twice his usual pace away from that man. 

Dinner duty goes on as usual, but Sieun has a lingering bad taste in his mouth from his interaction with the weirdo from earlier. He doesn’t tell Juntae what’s bothering him even when Juntae comments on his foul mood, keeping to himself as he keeps his head down and does his work. He wraps up a little quicker than usual, rushing to head back into the relative safety of his barracks because he doesn’t want to run into the guy again. 

The squad has just come back from patrolling by the time he arrives back at his barracks, which is an unusual occurrence for him. Most of them are asleep by the time he’s done, and the deviation from his routine makes a few of them ask him if he’s fine. A couple of them, still damp from their showers, receive him with pleasant surprise, patting his back. Sieun brushes off their concerns with a nod, picking up his personal care kit as he heads to the communal showers. 

He’s rinsing himself with hot water, fully taking advantage of the fact that he’s back before it’d shut off for once, tilting his head towards the spray as he unwinds from his day. He doesn’t turn to look when the door creaks open behind him, busy with soaping himself up. 

It’s only when a tanned, toned body steps into his peripheral vision that he pauses. 

Sieun closes his eyes, thanking the universe when the Sergeant doesn’t choose the showerheads adjacent to his. It doesn’t stop him from sneaking glances; Sieun bites his lips, knowing it’s impolite, but he’s off line duty now which means he hasn’t seen Sergeant Ahn since the day of the Failed Soup. He can still feel the imprint of the man’s fingers gripping onto his cheeks. 

The other man still has his face paint on from patrolling, although in a different design from the first time they’d met. Sieun squints when he realises that the rigorous week of advanced training combined with a muggy heatwave has bleached Sergeant Ahn’s hair into a glossy brown. The man must exercise out in the sun or something; his tan lines go way higher up his arms than Sieun expected. His chest is lush and muscled, his nipples dark on the paler skin. 

The showerhead turns on. 

Sieun’s gaze follows the path of the water, trailing lower. He startles when he catches the size of that thing, mouth almost falling slack. It’s thick, hanging low and heavy, and Sieun’s hands stop soaping, the thought of camouflaging himself as diligently showering flying out of his mind. 

And then he almost makes a noise when a hand goes down and gives it a stroke, and Sieun’s eyes fly to Suho’s, blinking against the stream of water. 

Ahn Suho is already staring at him, mouth twisted into a cocksure smirk. He shamelessly licks his lips, his teeth a sharp white flash against his face paint, looking dead on at Sieun as he takes his cock more firmly in hand and strokes it again. 

Sieun, knowing he’s caught for being a peeping tom, immediately turns away and quickly finishes up. He blames the flush racing hotly across his chest and up his face on the water, and averts his eyes as he excuses himself. 

He slips into the nearest toilet stall and stays there until the noise of water shuts off, and then waits some more as he waits for his heart to stop racing. His chest burns with shame and a slow, smouldering heat when he looks down and sees how hard he is, wondering if Suho had seen. Sieun swallows thickly, clenching his thighs a few times to redirect blood flow away. It doesn’t work entirely, but he waits until Suho should be done, then scurries his way to the changing room. 

Sieun almost squeaks when he sees someone waiting for him there. 

Suho’s still there, towelling his hair dry. He’s dressed casually in a crew neck and fatigues, and is leaning against the wall beside the pegs holding Sieun’s towel and uniform. Sieun resists the urge to turn around and flee again. He sniffs, focusing on placing one foot in front of the other. Sieun looks up just in time to catch Suho’s critical gaze flitting to his crotch as if to confirm something. Then, without another word, the man turns and leaves. 

Face burning hotter than a stove, Sieun finally lets out an anguished, silenced yell into his towel. 

Sieun spends the next few days actively avoiding his commanding officer. He’s instantly mortified if he so much as thinks about the shower incident, all the more made worse by how hot the weather’s been lately. Everyone’s getting cranky, not just the soldiers working the kitchen. It doesn’t help that they’re not allowed to wander without their fatigues on, nor are they allowed to go shirtless. 

To beat the heat, Sieun’s started squeezing in his jogs later in the evenings. He’s minding his own business and pushing through the last legs of his lap when he comes across a figure in his way. It’s darker where they are, the closest light a ways away where some recruits like to hang out and smoke. Sieun dodges the soldier, not paying attention to the person’s face at all. 

He regrets it when a hand shoots out and wrenches his arm. 

“Who–?!” Sieun curses, skidding to a stop and twisting away. His hackles are raised before the man even makes a noise, but his face turns stormy the moment he hears the familiar, sleazy voice calling his name again. “Stop it. I’m asking you nicely,” he interrupts whatever’s about to come out of the man’s mouth. “I already told you I’m not interested.” 

The soldier steps closer, and a hand comes to grip Sieun’s elbow. 

Sieun grits his teeth, thinks, fuck it, and slams his fist into the soldier’s nose. He can barely see the other man’s face, and they blindly tussle in the darkness. Something solid hits him square in his stomach, making him hiss. Sieun retaliates by elbowing the soldier in the face, letting out a triumphant noise when he hears a pained yelp. 

Gravel scrapes across his forearms as they both fall sideways, but the man somehow gets onto his feet quicker than Sieun, rearing back for a kick. His boots are heavy and land punishingly; Sieun protects his head, waiting for the right time. Just as the other soldier raises his leg again, Sieun lurches forward and pulls the man off of his feet. 

He’s up on his feet and sprinting away before the other soldier lands on the ground, running towards the light. Sieun almost gets there before he’s tackled to the ground. He lands painfully on his side, the wind knocked out of him. Sieun rolls away, breathing heavily as he props himself against the wall nearby. It’s a little easier to see now, and Sieun takes in how much damage he’d inflicted on the taller man. 

“Couldn’t you have said yes when I was asking nicely?” the soldier asks, spitting onto the ground by Sieun’s feet. “Now you’ve gone and done it. I can’t let other people know that I got socked by one of the kitchen boys.” 

Sieun pushes himself onto his feet, readying himself for the swing he knows is coming. 

“That’s right,” a voice drawls from nearby. Both Sieun and the other man’s heads snap towards it, but all they can see is the glowing butt of a cigarette as someone takes a pull from it. The other person’s figure is completely shadowed, sandwiched between two squadron’s barracks. “You can’t let others know you got beaten up by a support soldier.” 

The man before Sieun turns back to him, and before Sieun can react, his fist snaps out. Sieun moves by pure instinct, eyes watering when the blow grazes his cheek instead of landing solidly. 

“Fucking pathetic,” the voice starts laughing. The glow of the cigarette butt burns brightly for another second, then goes dim. 

Ahn Suho steps out from his vantage point. His footsteps are measured and heavy, face impassive as he finally steps into the light and flicks his cigarette away. His eyes land on Sieun for a moment, before flickering to the other man’s figure. 

“Is that how you fight?” Suho asks, approaching and yanking the soldier towards him. The soldier’s eyes are wide as all colour drains from his face. He immediately tries to salute, but Suho clicks his teeth in derision. 

“Let me show you how it’s done, fucker. Your wrists are fucking limp.” 

Suho’s fist flies towards the man’s face, landing heavily. The blow knocks the man onto the ground, landing on his back right in front of Sieun. 

Sieun barely has time to scoot away before Suho’s on the soldier again, kneeling over him and tugging him up with a fist in his shirt. “Come on, you can’t be such a wimp!” Suho cackles, eyes glittering with mania.  He rears his elbow back, shoulders bulging with the force behind his fist as he slams the man’s head back onto the ground. “Hit me, come on. Hit me! You fucking coward!” he eggs, voice going loud and harsh as he practically yells it in the man’s face.

The soldier, face bloodied, half sobs before swinging at him. Sieun almost calls out, but Suho, looking halfway crazed, actually turns his face into the punch. 

“Good,” Suho hisses, voice falling low. He tongues his split lip. “This is for your insubordination.” 

He rears his elbow back again. 

Ahn Suho drags Sieun all the way into his office. His hands are rough as he handles Sieun, no doubt about it, but Sieun finds himself grateful and almost leaning into Suho’s immovable strength. Suho’s knuckles are split at some places, but Sieun can’t find it in himself to pity the man after glimpsing how bloodied the other soldier had been. 

Suho has been silent for a while now, demeanour a complete one-eighty from when he’d been pummelling the other soldier into the ground. His face is impassive as he Suho drops Sieun like a sack of potatoes in a chair, then strides away. He flicks the light on, then drops a med kit on the floor. 

No words are exchanged between them as Suho yanks Sieun’s tee shirt over his head without asking for permission. He drops into a kneel before Sieun, eyes catching on the rapidly purpling bruises littering Sieun’s torso. Sieun fights the urge to cover up under Suho’s sharp, watchful gaze. There’s some faded bruising littering his ribs too, remnants from before he’d transferred, and Suho studies them without comment. Sieun is just realising how silent his commanding officer can be when Suho opens his mouth. 

“Is anything actively hurting?”

“No,” Sieun answers truthfully. He doesn’t feel that bad considering he’d just been in a brawl, and he’s pretty sure it’s because he suddenly found himself with reinforcement. 

Suho’s mouth does a little thing as he raises a hand, spanning Sieun’s ribs and pressing into a faded bruise there. “Now?” he asks as he scans Sieun’s face. His voice is low, his breaths soft and even.

Sieun hisses, hand coming up to encircle Suho’s wrist. It’s warm, and Suho’s skin is roughened from the sun. “... Now yes.” Sieun’s voice murmurs into the warm space between them. He’s not sure why the older man’s doing this, and his skin erupts in gooseflesh. 

Suho’s hands return with an ointment from the kit. His fingers press into Sieun’s skin, working his bruises. The pads of his fingers are rough and move with surety, first spreading the ointment, then kneading and massaging Sieun’s flesh. 

Sieun whimpers in pain. 

Suho raises an eyebrow, then adds more ointment to Sieun’s skin. He finishes up with the bruises on Sieun’s torso, propping himself up and leaning against the edge of the desk. It’s pretty reminiscent of their first official meeting here. Suho reaches out for Sieun’s arm and gets to work on the bruising there. Sieun bites his lower lip and swallows as much of his pained noises as possible, tipping his head back to gaze doe-eyed at Suho’s face. He’s yet to pay any attention to the graze on his lip, and Sieun’s about to say something about it, but Suho beats him to the punch. 

Suho curses, tonguing his cheek. He leans forward all up into Sieun’s space. Sieun dips his chin at the proximity, gaze skittering away. He can feel Suho’s heated breaths on his lips. “You’re looking at me like you’re asking for something.” Suho breathes. “Are you?” His eyes flicker and catches Sieun’s. 

Sieun exhales and swallows, his core clenching. “Asking for what?” he asks, distractedly staring at Suho’s swollen lower lip again. 

Suho leans away, taking his warmth with him. Sieun realises that he decidedly does not like that change, and peers through his lashes up at Suho again. 

Suho huffs as his lips curl into an audacious smirk. He lifts an eyebrow. “I hadn’t pegged you as a homo.”

Sieun can’t quite decide if the older man’s voice is laced with derision, or amusement. He swallows, heart jackrabbitting in his chest as he recalls the way Suho had egged the other soldier on, seemingly on his side until he’d beaten the shit out of him. 

“Should I add more to your collection?” The man’s eyes glint with something bordering admiration as he studies Sieun’s bruises. “You seem like the type to enjoy it.” 

“Are–” Sieun gasps, hissing sharply when Suho presses just a little deeper on his bruised skin. Sieun almost starts shaking with the effort to not reach out. He’s honestly not even that into it usually, but the way Suho’s fingers are pressing into his skin are too good even if they’re edged with a slow ache. “Are you the type?” Sieun finishes, breathing slow, deep breaths as he leans into Suho’s touch a little. 

Suho doesn’t answer for a long while as he keeps tonguing his split lip. His eyes sweep over Sieun’s face, as if contemplating something, and catches Sieun staring again. “Should hyung give you some advice?” he asks, voice low and gravelly.

Sieun almost stops breathing. He dips his chin, the beginnings of a florid flush taking over his features. 

Suho pauses, eyes roaming the pink of Sieun’s skin. “You’re gonna have to take it if you want something, princess.”

Sieun shoots out of his chair. He’s scrambling before Suho even finishes his words, pushing into Suho’s waiting arms. The chair goes flying, bouncing off the carpet but Sieun doesn’t care.

Their lips crash together, Suho hissing when Sieun starts sucking at his swollen lip. 

Hands come to the small of Sieun’s back, spanning his waist and crushing him into a hard chest. One flip and push and the precise arrangement of everything on Suho’s desk goes crashing on the floor. Suho doesn’t even react, busy pinning Sieun down with his bulk. 

His tongue does something to the seam of Sieun’s lips, licking steadily until it’s all Sieun can do to not moan out loud. A hand fits into Sieun’s hair, and tugs. Sieun’s mouth falls open on a gasp, and Suho’s tongue dives in, slick and warm. 

Suho kisses like he fights, domineering and rough, swiping deep with his tongue however he likes. He brushes sharp teeth against Sieun’s lips, nipping and sucking, breathing harshly when Sieun starts whimpering. 

Sieun is soaring out of his mind with want. Suho’s body is a furnace against his, tight and coiled where it’s pressing him into the desk, and he finds himself overcome with yearning. He doesn’t even know what he’s asking for when his palm drags across Suho’s taut stomach through his shirt, dipping lower to Suho’s waistband. 

In a flash, his wrists are restrained above his head. Suho’s arm is outstretched, and his muscles strain beneath his shirt. “Did I say you could touch?” 

“You said–” Sieun pants, breath hitching when Suho starts mouthing at his ear. “You said I had to take– mmh!” he moans through pursed lips when Suho tongues his ear, nibbling on his earlobe. He’s making a shallow panting noise in Sieun’s ear that’s shooting sparks down Sieun’s spine. 

Suho presses a thumb to Sieun’s nipple in a hard brush. Sieun twitches and erupts in goosebumps. Suho glances down at Sieun’s fatigues, and whistles when he sees how hard Sieun is. “Are you gonna cream your pants just from some necking?” Suho asks, eyes dark and hungry, voice laced with condescension. “Is that why you’re being greedy?” He asks, leaning down to suck a nipple into his mouth. 

When Sieun doesn’t answer, he bites into Sieun’s pec. He hears Sieun taking deep, thick breaths when his teeth sink a little harder, and he exhales in victory when Sieun goes limp and pliant underneath him. Suho lets out a sharp huff of amusement as he starts licking the flesh and soothing it with soft sucks. 

Sieun’s hands flit towards Suho’s trousers again, and this time Suho outright laughs. 

“Can I– hyung, can I please–” Sieun gasps, voice laced with want. 

He’s almost begging for it, and Suho’s abdomen clenches in reply. “Please what?” he questions, tilting his head and forcing himself to take a step back. Sieun’s head tips up to follow him, eyes looking like glazed-over pools, and the urge to tease, to bully makes a growl settle deep in his chest. Suho decides on the spot that he needs to see how the younger man looks when he’s pink and teary. 

“Gonna ask me for something again?” Suho continues, voice laced with amusement. “Seems like hyung’s the one who’s doing all the work so far.” The hyung rolls off his tongue again without further thought, and Suho purses his lips, tonguing the inside of his cheek as he stares at Sieun’s dazed face. “That’s not right, Sieun-ah. How is that fair?” 

Suho almost groans when Sieun immediately slides off the desk and onto his knees. A deep pink immediately flushes over Sieun’s skin, spreading from his chest upwards. He looks like a downed angel with those face and eyes of his, and Suho clenches his jaw. Those eyes, a little puffy, gaze up at him, and then Sieun shuffles closer until he’s kneeling by his boots. 

Suho doesn’t make a move to help Sieun, instead staring down at him with heavy, lidded eyes. The older man is hard to read on an easy day, but – Sieun gulps. He thinks he finally knows what want looks like on another person, streaked across Suho’s usually unreadable face, and something deep in his belly burns, answering in earnest. He swallows, then makes a move to unzip Suho’s fatigues. His fingers are shaking; Sieun has never done anything like this ever, but he also feels completely entranced. 

“Uh, uh princess,” Suho makes a disapproving noise. His words shoot right down Sieun’s spine, and Sieun feels red hot when his cock gives a kick in his fatigues. Suho was right earlier; he really had been close to blowing his load just from being held down and nipped at, but he also wants to– wants to make this good for Suho. 

“Put that mouth to good use,” Suho drawls, voice low and lazy. His tongue flashes between his lips, wetting them as he plants his feet wider, and tilts his hips forward. 

Sieun takes thick gulps of air, breaths getting heavier as understanding dawns on him. It’s like he’s somewhere else right now, somewhere where his senses are hot and fuzzy, a hot knife of want cutting through his belly. He sneaks another glance up into Suho’s domineering face, then lets his eyes fall closed. 

He presses his face into the older man’s crotch, body a taut string when he feels the first brush of Suho’s coarse fatigues against his lips. 

It’s a shock of warmth, and smells undoubtedly like a man. Sieun swallows a gulp, releasing the bite of teeth on his lower lip, then noses further up until he feels the sharp rasp of a zipper. His arms come up of their own accord to wrap behind Suho’s strong thighs as he delicately takes the zipper between his teeth and tugs. The rasp is all Sieun can hear, and his ears burn. 

He just about stops himself from nosing further in and inhaling deep lungfuls, the cotton of Suho’s briefs peeking through. Sieun, mesmerised, almost reaches for Suho’s belt when he dimly remembers that he’s not allowed to touch. He sits back against his heels, gazing up at Suho with a dewy look as he asks, “Can I please unbuckle your belt?” 

Suho tilts his head, as if demanding something from him, and Sieun continues softly, “Hyung.” 

Suho’s lips cock into a smirk, and his mouth does something that makes Sieun bite his lip. “No…” his voice trails off in a tease as he raises his eyebrows. 

“... Sir,” Sieun breathes, suddenly making a soft noise in the back of his throat. “Can I please unbuckle your belt, sir?” 

Suho’s lips, full and plush, finally pull into a satisfied smile. “Go ahead,” he answers, almost indulgent.

Sieun reaches up, working the belt open. He flushes darker at the clinking noise of the buckle in the silence of the room, then tugs Suho’s fatigues down until they’re baring his tight boxer briefs and upper thighs. Mouth going dry, Sieun peers up at Suho, then presses his cheek into the bulge before him. He lets his eyes fall shut, lashes fanning against cotton as he breathes against it. Suho lets out an answering grunt from above. Emboldened, Sieun starts mouthing at the curve of Suho’s erection, hands coming up to trail questing fingers beneath Suho’s underwear. 

He noses lower, then, when Suho doesn’t make a noise of complaint, tugs Suho’s briefs down. 

Suho watches as Sieun takes a moment to just stare at his bared skin. Then, Sieun presses his cheek sideways, brushing his smooth skin against Suho’s lightly furred thighs in a nuzzle. Suho grunts when Sieun boldly presses his mouth to his shaft. His half chub immediately fills up against plush lips, and Sieun makes a high noise in his throat. His voice is a rasp, almost a growl when he opens his mouth. “Look at you. How long have you been gagging for it, hm?” 

An urge to possess, to take comes over him when Sieun blinks up at him. Suho takes himself in hand, thumbing at the head and giving himself a dry pump before he presses the meat of his shaft to Sieun’s ruddy cheek. His other hand slips into Sieun’s hair, large and caressing, wishing he had more leverage to grip onto. “Open wide, princess.” He adjusts and presses his tip to Sieun’s plush lips. 

Sieun closes his eyes, mouth going slack in a sigh when Suho presses his hips forward. The saliva pooled in his mouth slicks the way, and Sieun lets out a soft moan when he tastes Suho’s slippery pre-cum. He swirls his tongue against it, and is gratified when Suho hums in appreciation. Sieun’s lips stretch to capacity when Suho thickens fully. His hands come up to palm Suho’s hipbones, letting Suho press his cock deeper without complaint. 

He gags at the first brush of cock against the back of throat. 

“Relax,” Suho coos, both hands cradling the back of Sieun’s head. He feeds a little more of his cock in, and then when Sieun takes it so beautifully, a bit more, until the man underneath him is blinking tears back. Sieun’s making little noises now, his mouth a hot wet glide of saliva and Suho’s pre-cum. His large, puffy eyes are framed by damp, clumped lashes as he gazes up at Suho from his kneel, and Suho almost shakes from the hot lick of fire in his veins. 

He tests the waters a bit more, adjusting Sieun’s position as he warns, “I’m putting it all the way in. Don’t panic.” He waits until Sieun nods, lips tugging into a smirk at Sieun’s enthusiasm. “Wow…” he lets out a long, deep groan as he presses in. “Who knew you’d be such a pro at cocksucking?” Suho’s voice bounces off the walls of the office. He retreats, meets Sieun’s eyes as the man gasps for air, then holds it as he presses in again, full and thick, until Sieun’s lips are nosing into his pelvis. “Always walking around with those eyes, damn.” 

His voice comes out faster as Sieun starts sucking in earnest, slobbering thick and sloppy around him. “Like you’re all innocent, and yet here you are, looking like you’re made to take it.” He exhales, core tightening, hips starting a shallow fuck. “What else have you been doing behind my back, huh? You let the others fuck you too, Sieun-ah?” he asks, fucking his cock all the way in in the next upstroke until Sieun’s blinking fat, heavy tears. 

He pulls off when slow, glazed over panic widens Sieun’s eyes. Sieun’s chest heaves, but he doesn’t make a move to withdraw off Suho's cock. He suckles on the half still in his mouth, watery gaze holding Suho’s, then shakes his head. 

“No?” Suho asks when Sieun does so. “That’s right. You’re mine, aren’t you, Sieun-ah?” Suho asks, withdrawing in one fell swoop. “You’re spoken for now. Don’t even think about undressing in front of those fuckers again.” 

Sieun splutters, blurrily making out Suho’s figure as a hand grips his chin and tugs him upright into an embrace. Suho’s face comes into focus when he blinks, the man’s eyes a dark cut of hot iron. A tongue flicks out to lick Sieun’s cheek and chin filthily. 

“Should I fuck you?” Suho asks, floating the question between them like it’s nothing. 

Sieun hadn’t even realised that was an option until that moment. He feels his legs go weak, a slow heat simmering in his belly. 

“Since you’ve been so good,” Suho continues, leaning against the desk as his dark gaze studies Sieun from top to toe. His arms are corded where he grips the desk. 

Sieun drifts closer, until he’s leaning into the bracket of Suho’s thighs. “Y–yes. Yes please.” Sieun's toes are curling in his socks. “Yes,” he repeats, leaning forward to press his lips against Suho’s. 

Suho grunts softly into the kiss, suddenly finding himself with a lapful of Sieun’s squirming body. He breaks off the kiss by turning his head to the side, and huffs a laugh. “You should see how you look right now. Are you clenching your ass just thinking about it?” 

Gaze skittering off to the side shyly, Sieun folds his wandering hands back to himself. Now that Suho’s mentioned it, that’s what Suho had meant, right? He was going to– to fuck Sieun’s ass. A pair of hands turn him around forcefully, flying to his back to bend him over and cage him down. He lets himself be pressed down low against the desk, his nipples skimming the wooden surface. Like this, Sieun can just close his eyes, feeling the rasp of Suho’s shirt against his back as hands come up to strip him. His belt loosens with a clang, and all of a sudden his flesh is bare to the warm air. 

Hands spread warm and wide along the globes of his ass, gripping large palmfuls and easing them apart. Sieun twists himself to look, barely meeting Suho’s gaze before the older man grins, then spits directly onto his hole. 

Heat races up Sieun’s spine when Suho doesn’t break off eye contact, instead massaging the wetness and smearing it around his rim. Then Suho disappears from his vision.

Sieun jerks bodily against the table and lets out a dazed yelp. Wetness slips between his cheeks, smearing around as Suho tongues him sloppily. Head falling into the pillow of his arms, Sieun moans out loud when Suho starts licking and sucking at his hole. The sensation sends zings up his spine, and he arches when he feels his rim loosening with every pass of lips over his skin. Then Suho does something with his tongue, and slips it into him, fucking his rim open. 

Sieun scrabbles against the desk, whining hard in his throat. He jerks, but hands hold him down and makes him take it. Suho doesn’t let up until every pass of his lips over Sieun’s rim has him leaking into the desk, cock hanging full and kicking with every touch Suho presses to his skin. 

“Suho, Suho–” Sieun gasps, toes curling as his thighs spasm. His vision is blurry, and his face feels hot. A low, muffled laugh sounds from behind him. 

Something more solid than a tongue slips into him to the knuckle, and Sieun loses it. His cock jerks, spurting thick ropes of cum, and his ass spasms, clenching against the intrusion as he’s racked with soft sobs. Suho doesn’t let up, fucking him through it, wet and messy as his hands return and start working something slippery into his ass. 

“Unh, will you–” Sieun whimpers, ears ringing in the background of Suho’s filthy slurps against him. “Will you fuck me now?” he slurs a little, voice low and soft as he twists to look at Suho. Suho finally pulls his mouth away, running his fingers through the strips of Sieun’s cum sprayed over his desk. He holds eye contact as he works Sieun’s own cum back into his ass. 

It’s filthy; filthy, filthy, filthy, the way the word fuck runs off Sieun’s tongue. He’s never used it in this context before, such unfamiliarity in his chest, but he wants. He eyes the glistening wetness on Suho’s chin, the expression on Suho’s face, and he wants. 

Suho’s eyebrows tug, and he laughs, stunned. “You want me to fuck you like this?” he asks, eyeing where Sieun’s draped over the desk, boneless. “Not even two fingers in, and you’re begging for it. Are you that big of a cockslut, Sieun-ah?” he asks, withdrawing his finger. Suho swipes another across the mess of fluids in Sieun’s cleft, then notches them in Sieun’s rim. His voice goes into a low grumble, “Or are you just a virgin?” 

He presses in without waiting for an answer, biting his lips when Sieun jerks at the sensation and moans softly. Suho’s cock gives an interested kick when understanding dawns on him. The overeager sloppiness, the way Sieun shakes apart with nothing but a touch; Suho circles the base of his cock, giving it a firm, punishing squeeze. He grits his teeth as Sieun’s hole spasms around his fingers, the younger’s voice echoing off the walls in high whines. Fishing in the kit abandoned by their feet, Suho makes a satisfied noise when he finds his aloe gel. 

He slathers a dollop on his fingers, then watches, riveted on the way Sieun’s hole accommodates him by stretching wide when he presses a third finger in. It’s slippery and a mess, but Sieun doesn’t seem to mind, too busy keening into the clutch of his arms. Suho thinks to himself that that can’t be right, and tugs Sieun up with his other hand as he retreats. 

“Louder,” he mutters into Sieun’s ear, licking the shell hotly. His hand comes to rest on Sieun’s throat, feeling the vibrations there. “Louder, so they can hear you all the way in the barracks.” Sieun’s body curves against his, arched just like his cock, and Suho glimpses down in time to catch it kicking and leaking more pre-cum. He exhales, deep and urgent, and swipes the wetness away, then applies it to Sieun’s cleft. Sieun’s hands come up to support himself, pushing himself back against Suho’s chest. 

The first touch of Suho’s cock to his ass almost has Sieun shaking apart. A wet smack sounds through the room, and then suddenly that heavy, brooding thing is settling in between his cheeks, where it’s soft and slick. Suho’s hands grip his ass cheeks, squeezing them together over his cock as his hips start moving. It’s beyond filthy; Suho’s cock leaks pearly fluid, adding to the mess. His entire girth glistens with their combined fluids, and he groans. 

Then Suho’s cock catches on his rim, and Sieun’s brain whites out in need. He arches into it, yearning sizzling through his core, and whimpers when it just skitters past. Oh fuck, Sieun thinks, as Suho curses into his shoulder. He can only hang on for the ride when Suho keeps fucking his cleft just like that, hips settling into a slicked rhythm, swallowing against the noises in his throat. 

The next time his cockhead catches, Sieun throws his head back. His core clenches, breath squeezed out of him because he knows that this is it; Suho is about to fuck him for real. He’s going to be fucked open, going to take a cock in his ass for the first time. Suho’s hips are heavy and moving with intent, nudging, pressing closer, and he breathes heavy into Sieun’s ear. 

“Which is it, Sieun-ah?” Suho asks hotly, nosing into Sieun’s neck. He forces himself back, cockhead barely stretching Sieun’s rim, holding himself there through sheer willpower. He’s sure that he already knows the answer but wants to hear it from Sieun’s lips nonetheless. “Cockslut or virgin?” 

Sieun lets out a soft, wanting sob. He can’t take it anymore, turning to press his lips hotly into Suho’s cheek. “The… the second one,” he admits, not quite able to get the word virgin out of his mouth. 

Suho huffs a low laugh that stokes the flames in Sieun’s belly higher. “I guess I’ll be your first cock, huh?” He asks, and starts pressing in.  

Sieun’s mouth falls slack, a tapered whine sounding from his throat. His rim, soft and pliant, gives way to the insistent push of Suho’s hips almost immediately. The stretch is intense, and Sieun feels it to his toes. Every muscle in his body goes stiff, his hands white knuckling the edge of the table. 

His knees give way, but Suho is ready for it. Corded arms hold him upright, crossing over his chest and rearranging him back on the desk. Sieun keens mindlessly, his hips shifting away from the intrusion. Suho growls, “Too late for second thoughts now, baby.” He slathers more gel on Sieun’s rim. A finger caresses where Sieun’s taut and glistening, and his thighs spread Sieun’s wider, large warm hands rearranging Sieun’s hips just so into a tilt. 

Sieun doesn’t know what it is; the new angle, Suho’s growls in his ear, or the fluids slicking every part of him, but Suho pushes just a little more into him, and all of a sudden Sieun’s fucked open, body opening to accept Suho’s girth. The cockhead kicks in him, and Sieun doesn’t realise that the wail echoing in the room is his voice until he has to pause to gasp in heavy, deep breaths. 

Suho’s no better, neck straining with the effort to hold himself upright. He presses a halting hand to Sieun’s flank, gritting out, “Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight.” His voice is curt, cut off when he sucks in sharp hisses of breath. He chokes out a gutted growl when Sieun’s ass spasms around him, doubling over and curling over Sieun’s back. 

A cold belt buckle presses into Sieun’s exposed, sticky thighs, and Sieun can’t stop the wet whimper arising in his throat. This is real. He’s being fucked open on his superior officer’s desk, taking a cock for the first time, stripped naked for a man still in uniform. He’d laugh if he wasn’t on the verge of sobbing; choked noises spill from his throat, spurring Suho on. 

Suho, who’s busy working his cock deeper and deeper into Sieun, kicks Sieun’s legs open wider. He reaches under Sieun, getting his hands on his cock. He almost grins when he finds that it's still hard and leaking, despite Sieun’s pitiful visage. He plays with the moisture there, eyes riveted on the way Sieun’s stretched rim is gleaming under the light. 

Sieun’s trembling by the time Suho is halfway in, stuffed and full, one hand going backwards to rest against Suho’s hip. He twists around, face creased and pink, voice wet as he blinks his teary eyes, and pleads. “It– it’s too big.”

Suho slots himself more fully against Sieun, getting his face closer and peering at him. He presses a kiss to Sieun’s moisture-stricken cheek, sweet and almost gentle, soothing Sieun into a hushed still. His hand comes to grip Sieun’s elbow. 

“Take it, princess,” Suho mutters into Sieun’s ear, and thrusts to the root. 

Sieun throws his head back into a wail, voice breaking when Suho retreats until he’s halfway in before fucking in again. The slippery friction against his walls has Sieun scrambling to grip the arms caging him in, his body straining to take every pass of Suho’s cockhead over a spot in him that makes him shake. He can’t stop spasming, even though each clench makes Suho seem impossibly bigger in him. Tingles run up his spine, spreading down to his toes. 

Suho, mind driven half crazy by the noises spilling from Sieun’s mouth, pulls out until he’s almost popping out, and feeds his cock fully in again until he’s balls deep. He does it again and again, making Sieun feel every inch and ridge of his cock, nudging and nudging deeper with each stroke, until all Sieun can feel and hear is Suho’s cock in him and Suho’s breaths in his ears. 

He grips Sieun’s ass, thumbing him open wide, and his next stroke hits something in Sieun that makes Sieun jerk. The glide gets easier and easier as Sieun’s body falls into it, opening to Suho’s girth. Suho steps back a little and pulls Sieun’s hips away from the edge of the table. 

“Come on, princess. Time for you to get to work,” Suho pants, hips still driving into Sieun deep and slow. He squeezes a globe of Sieun’s ass before spanking it once. When Sieun makes a confused noise, Suho lets out a low chuckle, placing his hands on Sieun’s waist and tugging him back to meet his thrusts. 

Sieun heaves, soft whimpers escaping his lips when he gets the memo and starts pushing his hips back. His knees are locked, thighs shaking from the stimulation as he tries to meet Suho thrust for thrust, voice spilling out more readily. His cock bounces, hanging heavy and low, brushing against the desk each time he pulls away from Suho’s hips. 

And then all of a sudden, Suho starts rutting into him, hips steadily gaining momentum until every smack against Sieun’s ass echoes filthily through the room. If anyone walked past the hallway right now, Sieun and Suho would have no excuses about what’s going on between them with how loud they’re being. 

Sieun doesn’t care. He falls into an arch, and dimly recognises a hand coming up to cup his cock. Suho’s fingers brush once over his cockhead, and Sieun bursts, eyes seeing white and flooding Suho’s waiting fingers with hot floods of cum. His eyes roll back into his head as he twitches, ass convulsing uncontrollably around Suho’s cock. 

“Look at you,” Suho groans, fucking Sieun erratically as his hips stutter. Sieun’s answering keen is soft, aftershocks zinging through his body. “Your hole’s desperate for it. It’s mouthing at me, fuck,” Suho curses, pulling out until the spongy head of his cock is the only thing remaining in Sieun’s body. As if to prove his point, Sieun’s ass clenches. 

Suho laughs as he pulls out fully, leaving Sieun feeling oddly bereft. The older man doesn’t acknowledge Sieun’s soft answering moan, swiping the mess on his hand onto Sieun’s ass. He gathers the cooling sum in Sieun’s cleft, then feeds his cock into Sieun’s hole again roughly. “What do we do, Sieun-ah?” Suho ponders, hips starting a smooth rhythm again. “You’re all loose and fucked out. You’ve got to try extra hard to make me come now.” 

Sieun spasms weakly, toes still tingling from his orgasm. He reaches back and pulls his ass open, and Suho groans at the sight. He starts driving his hips in sharp, small jerks, nestled deep inside Sieun. Sieun whines when Suho keeps grazing his prostate, legs starting to shake again. His spine bows of its own accord, breaths coming in a sharp staccato as he bites down on his lip and takes it. Suho grunts in his ear, his rhythm stuttering, and Sieun knows he’s close. Sieun, stuffed full, feels a build up in his belly again, and he lets out a choked noise. 

“I think I’m going to come again,” he whimpers. 

The next thrust hits his sensitive spot dead on, deep in him, and Sieun throws his head back and comes. His cock lets out a sad dribble of cum. Suho’s cock gives a warning flex in him. Barely having enough wits to him, Sieun yelps, “Not inside!” 

Suho presses into him, holding him bodily down even as Sieun starts to thrash from overstimulation, and comes, shooting deep and warm and wet in him. 

Sieun whines dizzily when he feels the kicks of Suho’s cock in him, voice morphing into a prolonged whine and then into a hoarse shout when Suho barely stops, snuffling loudly into the nape of his neck. It’s so warm and wet in him, but the friction gets too much when Suho starts to piston his hips again. Sieun sobs, hips stuttering away from Suho’s, but Suho just laughs against him, fits sharp teeth to his nape, and hauls him back again. 

The desk starts swaying dangerously at one point. After a moment longer of rutting into Sieun, whose sobs turn weak and soft, Suho finally pulls out. Sieun sniffles, burying his face into Suho’s chest when he’s flipped around on the table. Strong arms pull him into a warm embrace, settling him on the floor. Sieun blinks softly when Suho rearranges his limbs, tugging his shoes and trousers off of him fully. 

“Suho-ya?” he tilts his head in a question, eyes going wide when Suho folds him in half. Suho notches his cock again, penetrating Sieun and sliding into him filthy wet and somehow still hard. The way Suho presses Sieun down makes him feel full to bursting, glutted on Suho’s cock and cum. 

Suho doesn’t let up even when Sieun starts making wet, meek noises again, hiking his legs higher. “Don’t look so bullied, babygirl,” he laughs, hand pressing onto Sieun’s pelvis where he feels the fullest just above his cock. “You asked to be fucked, didn’t you?” he pants, hips working hard to fuck Sieun deeper. 

Sieun throws his head back, thrashing as he jerks underneath Suho’s dominating figure. “No! No, please, something– something is–!”

“Yeah, keep it coming,” Suho laughs, putting his full weight behind his thrusts now. 

The sensation of something giving away in Sieun has him yelling hoarsely; hot fluid jets from his cock, spurting with every sharp thrust into him. 

Suho makes a noise when he palms Sieun and finds him completely soft. “Are you squirting right now?” His voice is gleeful as Sieun lets out a humiliated sob. “What an obedient girl, squirting on her hyung’s cock.” 

Sieun’s eyes start burning with more tears, hiccupping when Suho’s hand lets go of him and presses to his lower belly again, this time streaked with Sieun’s piss and cum. 

“Squeeze me tight, baby. Hyung will give you another load, okay?” Suho’s lofty tone is laced with indulgence. Sweat mists his forehead as he presses a closed mouth kiss to Sieun’s lips, and then again to his cheek. 

Sieun nods, sniffling as he clenches down immediately. His ass is a tight, hot passage, and Suho tongues his cheek as he laughs once again. “How obedient. It’s like you’re desperate for it.” He teases, pressing his cheek into the side of Sieun’s knee. “Okay. Ready, princess?” 

Sieun barely nods when he breaks into a howl, his ass clenching when Suho’s last few thrusts jabs against his prostate full on. His cock gives another twitch on his belly, leaking more fluids.

Suho fucks deep and presses himself there, whiting out as he feels himself coming and coming and coming. Back straining, he muffles his gasps into Sieun’s neck as he slides a wandering hand down to Sieun’s lower belly, pinning his pelvis in place as Sieun shakes erratically. “That’s it,” Suho breathes, nuzzling into Sieun’s hair as his hips stutter deeper and his cock twitches lazily a few more times. “That’s a good girl, taking my load.” 

Sieun barely manages to whimper an affirmative, body falling into an unmoving heap on the carpet when Suho pulls out slowly. Wrecked and spent, Sieun takes a few moments to close his eyes, his hole soft and a little sore when he gives an experimental squeeze. Trails of wetness leak out of him with the clench.

The spreading wet spot beneath Sieun makes him wince, nose scrunching. The sound of a lighter flicking reaches his ears, and Sieun opens his eyes to see Suho lighting a cigarette in a squat beside him, cock hanging soft and heavy between his thighs. 

His ass twinges when Suho tugs him up into a seat. 

“You smoke?” Suho asks, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. He talks around the cigarette, tongue manoeuvering it between his lips as he takes a puff. He runs a finger up Sieun’s soft, spent cock, lips tugging into a lazy smirk when Sieun gives a full body flinch from oversensitivity. He eyes Sieun with a dark, lidded gaze, lips pressing into a grin when Sieun reaches out shakily and tucks him back into his briefs.

“I used to,” Sieun replies, letting his thighs fall softly open as he crosses his legs. 

Suho’s eyes sweep down his body, slow like molasses, thick and caressing as it passes back to his face. “Good. So you won’t choke when I do this.” He takes a puff of his cigarette, leans closer and presses his lips to Sieun’s before exhaling into his mouth. 

Smoke trickles out between their lips, and Sieun’s eyes are mellow and soft. Suho, barely managing to pull himself away, bites his tongue, then presses the butt of his cigarette to Sieun’s lips. Not even a meteor striking their base could tear his eyes from Sieun when the other man takes a drag, lips plush where they brush against Suho’s fingers. 

Sieun’s lips tug into a delicate smile. “You can just kiss me, you know,” he points out, exhaling the smoke and expertly redirecting it away from Suho’s face. 

The space between them smoulders, placated into a deep, breathing thing from the bold red fires from before. Suho clenches his jaw. “Not inside?” he echoes Sieun’s earlier words, lifting an eyebrow. He chances a glance down Sieun’s body where he’s still leaking, radiating an air of satisfaction as he shoots Sieun a dark, compelling look. “What, worried that I've gotten my dick wet elsewhere? You’re the only one with eyes pretty enough to catch my attention around here.” 

The silence between them feels a little more alive when Suho blinks, pressing a hand to his lips as he wonders if he’s said too much. He puts his cigarette out, and sucks his teeth in. 

“If I was worried about that, I would’ve insisted on a condom.” Sieun knows that they’re both in clean bills of health just because that’s the nature of the job. Still, a part of him wants to curl up in Suho’s words and examine the floaty feeling in his chest. “I was just thinking about the showers being closed.”

Suho huffs out a laugh, lips pulling into a grin that shows his teeth. “Of course you were thinking about that when I had my cock up your ass.” He raises a discerning eyebrow when Sieun’s ears turn bright red. “Sleep at my quarters tonight. I’ve got a private shower.” He tosses Sieun’s abandoned crew neck back to him, and takes his own off to wipe Sieun down. 

If Sieun’s surprised by Suho giving him a helping hand to dress into his fatigues again, he doesn’t show it. His eyelids are heavy, lashes fanning over his cheeks in full, thick sweeps. Suho thinks back to Sieun’s words, and thinks, to hell with it. He reaches out, tugs Sieun’s chin forward and presses a hard kiss to pouty lips. 

Suho pulls away, but just barely. “I meant it. If I so much as catch someone looking at you different, I’ll beat them to death.” His lips brush against Sieun’s possessively with every word. “So you’d better behave yourself, Sieun-ah. Got it?” 

Sieun’s lidded eyes drop to Suho’s lip. He studies the split there, and traces the scabs on Suho’s knuckles. “Got it.”