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When he steps outside the prison walls for the first time in almost five years, the first thing he does is take a long, deep breath. The air tastes different outside the walls of the prison courtyard, fuller, freer, like for the past five years he’d breathed only half the oxygen he needed, leaving him half-choked and desperate, never fully living.
His suit feels restricting in the hot summer air, but it wasn’t like he had much to choose from. This suit was what he’d worn five years ago walking into prison with the explicit purpose of one day walking out in it.
His father had taught him many things growing up, each lesson more unconventional than the last. Seungcheol remembered every one of his father’s lessons, but two of them rang clearer in his mind than the others. First, never do yourself what you can get someone lesser to do for you. Second, always walk out of prison in a suit.
A man in a nice suit can get whatever he wants , his father had told him, a conspiratory smirk on his face where he sat at the other side of the dark mahogany table, glass of scotch in his large hand. Seungcheol had cowered before him, always meek in the presence of his father. A job, a good fuck, an empire.
The suit fit differently, now, tighter over his chest and thighs. Prison was a boring place, with little else to do but start fights and work out, and Seungcheol much preferred the second option, leaving the fighting for the more expendable inmates, always eager to do his bidding for a chance at earning his good favour.
He shrugs the suit jacket off of his shoulders, unbuttons his sleeves, rolls them up, and then he starts walking. He has no goal in mind, only knows that he needs to get moving. He’s not sure how he managed to get parole only a third of the way into his sentence, but he had a vague idea of who was behind it, and if he had to guess he’d wager he wouldn’t need to walk very far.
A few minutes of walking later, sweat already dripping down his back, he’s proved right when a car pulls up next to him, sleek black with tinted windows. Seungcheol grins as he gets in.
“Is this Jeonghannie’s doing?” He asks more out of formality than actual curiosity, people didn’t get paroled for the things Seungcheol were sentenced for, meaning that some powerful strings must have been pulled to make it happen, and Seungcheol knew of no one but Jeonghan that would have reason to orchestrate such a thing for him.
He watches in the rearview mirror as Woozi smirks. “He’s always been good at making friends in high places.”
Seungcheol guffaws at the remark.
“That he is indeed,” he doesn’t bother keeping the fond smile off his face.
A few minutes of silence pass, Seungcheol idly contemplating how he should best approach the topic he wants to discuss. Woozi was intelligent and fiercely loyal, but if his actions five years ago were any indication, that loyalty laid faithfully at the feet of Jeonghan, not Seungcheol. He used to think he knew Jihoon well, they’d grown up together, after all, but looking at the man now, he feels like a stranger. He’s aged, face mature in a way it wasn’t five years ago, a weariness in his eyes that Seungcheol doesn’t recognise.
“So what have I missed out on these past years?” He keeps his voice unassuming, gazing out the window at the scenery they pass.”You can get a lot of things smuggled into prison, but information proved to be harder than anticipated to come by.”
“Nothing interesting,” Jihoon assures him nonchalantly. Seungcheol notes the way his hands clench around the steering wheel, the tension in his shoulders. Stress, he assumes. Jihoon offers nothing more in reply, only keeps driving silently.
The rest of the car drive passes in virtual silence, broken only by the careful catching up of two people who used to be on the same side, but now stand in an awkward grey space, lines blurred around them. Jihoon keeps conversation carefully steered away from Jeonghan and what used to be the Choi criminal empire, focusing the conversation on lighter, far more mindless, topics. Seungcheol plays along, assuming he would find out what was going on soon enough.
After an hour of driving, he realises that they’re not heading for the city, instead they’re following the coast, driving further south than Seungcheol’s been in years.
It’s another hour and a half before Jihoon navigates them into a city, crossing through the heart of a sleepy, unassuming town. As they get closer to the coastline again, their surroundings slowly become more lavish, apartment buildings and complexes making way for houses and villas. Seungcheol’s never been to this city before, has never even heard of it, and something tells him that’s precisely why they’re here.
As Jihoon maneuvers the car through a high, spiked gate, Seungcheol wonders if Jeonghan is hiding from something.
The car drives up a long stretch of driveway, and when Jihoon finally parks, it’s by the wide staircase leading up to the door of a house so lavish it borders on excessive. Seungcheol is out the car in seconds.
“He’s waiting for you by the pool.” Jihoon says through his open window, but Seungcheol doesn’t turn around to look at him.”Follow that path.” Despite now seeing where he’s pointing, Seungcheol knows where he’s supposed to go, and when he hears Jihoon’s car drive away, he sets off toward the pathway to the left of the house.
He doesn’t run. But if some of the guards keeping watch over the grounds throw him strange looks for rushing through the garden, Seungcheol pays them no mind.
He follows the small stone path through the flowers and statues decorating the grounds of the house, internally shaking his head at the unnecessary decadence of it all. Seungcheol had always preferred showing his wealth in minimalism, in sleek lines and classy black and white. Jeonghan, on the other hand, had always liked opulence, eyes shining at the thought of marble floors and expensive drapes of fabric.
He passes through a final pergola, entering a vast, terraced area occupied by the biggest pool he’s ever seen, and it’s there, just a few metres away from Seungcheol, that he spots him.
Jeonghan’s lying spread out on a lounge chair, the setting sun shining gentle rays on his tanned skin, his eyes are closed and his arms are thrown up above his head. His legs are bare save for a pair of shorts, a pristine dress shirt decorates his upper body. The shirt is too big for him, and Seungcheol can’t stop the slight stab of jealousy at the thought of Jeonghan wearing someone else’s shirt.
Jeonghan must hear him approach, because before Seungcheol has the chance to speak, he’s blinking his eyes open, gaze immediately landing on Seungcheol.
“Really, Seungcheollie?” Jeonghan says, lowering his arms to his side and sitting up slightly. He’s got one eyebrow raised haughtily. Seungcheol’s stomach turns.”Prison tattoos?”
Seungcheol snorts, then lifts one shoulder in a shrug as he comes to stand by the lounge chair.
“Gotta do what you gotta do.” He raises a hand to scratch over the olive wreath wrapped around his throat.”Besides, they suit me, don’t you think? Make me look rugged.”
“You would join a prison gang because it suited your image,” Jeonghan muses as his eyes trace the tattoos peeking through the unbuttoned gap in his shirt.
“Not joined,” Seungcheol corrects with a cocky grin, rolling his shoulders back proudly.”Started.”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes at him, but doesn’t speak, instead he just gestures to the end of the lounge chair, inviting him to take a seat.
Seungcheol does as ordered and sits down on the chair by Jeonghan’s feet, he lets a hand rest lightly on one of his former lover’s calf. Jeonghan doesn’t protest, barely bats an eye at the contact and Seungcheol smiles, pleased, at the easy acceptance of the physical contact.
Jeonghan’s skin is prickly under Seungcheol’s hand, and it feels foreign. Jeonghan had always been soft and smooth, never a trace of hair lower than his eyebrows. It seemed there was no limit to how far Jeonghan’s act had reached.
“So first you get me thrown in prison,” he says lightly, thumb gently rubbing over the hairs on the other man’s thin calf.”And then you get me out.”
“You’re not mad, are you, Seungcheollie?” Jeonghan throws him an easy smile, and Seungcheol’s weak, treacherous heart stutters in his chest.”I just did what I had to do.”
Seungcheol stays quiet, scared that if he spoke too much he would willingly offer his heart to the man in front of him once more, no questions asked.
Then again, Seungcheol thinks with a swallow as he watches Jeonghan take a sip of his drink, how could he offer Jeonghan something that had always been his in the first place?
When Jeonghan sets his drink back down on the table next to them his countenance changes, becoming more serious, almost business-like.
“I need you, Seungcheol.” The words make everything within Seungcheol ache to reach out for the blonde, to wrap him in his arms and give him anything he wanted. He had spent years serving Jeonghan’s every whim. Jeonghan had changed him, had given him one vulnerable look and made Seungcheol want to be bigger, stronger, untouchable , all so Jeonghan could have anything he wanted. He’d wanted to tear the world down and build it up anew, all so his angel could be safe and happy in a world created to worship him. Seeing him now, the feigned innocence he’d used to ensnare Seungcheol long gone, the urge is still there, as strong as it had been when everything had fallen apart. He’d already given up everything for Jeonghan once, he’d do it again in a heartbeat.
He does his best not to let it show, but knowing Jeonghan, he likely knows exactly what he’s thinking.
“For what?” He asks with a raised brow, keeping his voice carefully neutral.
“As it turns out,” Jeonghan starts with a sigh.”This little syndicate your father built is more attached to the Chois than I’d originally thought.”
Seungcheol laughs once he realises where this is going.
“So the troops aren’t falling in line as they should,” He leans closer to Jeonghan’s face.”And now you need me to come in and take over?”
“Not take over,” Jeonghan bites out harshly. Seungcheol likes the way his eyebrows furrow, and the dangerous gleam in his eyes makes his groin stir with intrigue.”I need you to be my puppet.”
Seungcheol regards him, sceptical. Before, he’d gotten accused of being a puppet more than once. Most accusations had named his father as the one with the strings in his hands, but a few fingers, belonging to those unfortunate souls that had been more perceptive than had been good for them, had pointed right at Seungcheol’s sweet Angel.
“And what do I get in return?”
Jeonghan raises his arms and gestures to himself, smirk on his lips. Seungcheol follows his hands where they gesture to his body, pretends to ogle his barely covered form. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but he was certain he’d seen a hint of something sharp behind Jeonghan’s easy smirk, something he wasn’t being upfront about, Seungcheol just had to figure out what it was.
“Me.” The other moves on to explain,”You’ll be the face of this whole thing, you’ll give my commands and act on my guidance, and to anyone watching you’ll be the one in charge, and in return you get me.” Jeonghan reaches over and plucks his drink off the table next to his lounge chair, a mask of indifference on his pretty face.”I’ll be Angel again.”
Ah , Seungcheol thinks, fighting back a smirk, so he's bitter. He doesn’t say anything, only sits quietly and watches as Jeonghan elaborates, his hand still gently stroking his calf.
“I’ll be soft and pretty for you again, the innocent angel doing his best to loyally follow your bidding,” he takes a sip of his drink, carefully constructed indifference trying to hide the bitterness simmering in those elegant eyes. He gives a slight shrug before he continues, chin tilted up and away from Seungcheol.”I’ll even shave my legs and grow my hair out, if that’s what you like.”
Seungcheol is proud to say that he can see his frustration, clear as day, in the way he twirls his wine glass, in the slight wrinkle of his nose and in the way he carefully avoids meeting Seungcheol’s eyes as he speaks.
Seungcheol has had a lot of time to think. A lot of time to reminisce about his past endeavors. A lot of time to try and figure out the game his lover had been playing. He’s spent the better part of five years trying to pick apart Yoon Jeonghan. Sorting through every memory, no matter how fleeting, trying to figure out what parts of him had been real, if any at all.
It really is embarrassing how he’d fallen for his act for so long. Even more embarrassing that he doesn’t regret it, even for a second.
“So?” Jeonghan asks, clearly annoyed at Seungcheol’s silence.
He chuckles, grins at the man in front of him. He feels triumphant. After so long he’s finally a step ahead of Jeonghan.
“What if that’s not what I want?” His grin shifts into a smirk as he leans back a little, taking his hand off of the other’s calf, mourning the loss of contact but not letting it show. He’s got a challenge in his eyes.”What if I don’t want Angel?”
Jeonghan’s gaze hardens significantly, the grip on his glass tightening.
Jealousy , Seungcheol makes sure to note. Jeonghan must have gotten rusty these past years, Seungcheol thinks to himself, the guise not coming as easily to him as it once had.
“What else could you want?” Jeonghan snaps.” Who else could you want?”
He drops his smirk in exchange for something softer, regards his angel with gentle eyes. He had loved Jeonghan since the first time he saw him. Had loved him when he was bloodied and vulnerable, then when he was golden and spoiled, and now he would love him like this, with all his sharpness and hunger for power.
“I only want you, Hani.” He reassures. If Seungcheol was a stronger man he wouldn’t be so eager to placate him, wouldn’t throw himself headfirst into his old life just because a past lover was finding his stolen power much harder to control than he’d anticipated.
But Seungcheol had never been strong when it came to Jeonghan. He’d been strong for him, many times, and would be again whenever he needed to, but all it took was one look from those pretty eyes for his defences to crumble. With the solution of the riddle that was Yoon Jeonghan came the realisation that Seungcheol would never have had it any other way.
“How do I know you’re not just going to go off and gone girl yourself again?”
Jeonghan raises his glass to his lips, looking far too pleased with himself.
“You don’t,” he says with a simple shrug.”But isn’t that part of the fun?”
The shamelessness of the statement makes him laugh, and he shakes his head fondly as he reaches out for the glass in Jeonghan’s hand. Jeonghan gives it to him willingly, and Seungcheol relishes in the way his skin tingles when their hands touch.
“And what do we say about these past years?”
“We’ll just say I was trying to do your bidding,” Jeonghan reaches up to cup Seungcheol’s jaw with gentle hands he hasn’t felt on him for so long. His heart skips a beat at the same time as heat pools in his stomach. “Keeping everything running in your absence.”
Seungcheol tilts his jaw further into Jeonghan’s hands, scooting up the lounge chair until he’s sitting level with Jeonghan.
“I’ve only done what my Seungcheollie said I should.”
One of the hands on his jaw falls lower, trailing the tattoo around his throat.
“I’ve missed you, Seungcheol.”
Seungcheol sighs, nerve endings on fire.”I’ve missed you too, Jeonghan.”
Minutes later, they’re in a bedroom on the top floor of the villa, falling into bed together. The afternoon sun bathing them in warm light as they reacquaint themselves with each other’s bodies.
Preparation is eager but slow, the impatience Seungcheol expected to feel nowhere in sight.
He will love Jeonghan fully, no millimetre of his body left untouched or unappreciated. In a way, he’s only minutely embarrassed to think, this is the first time he makes love to Jeonghan, and he intends on making the most of it.
As Angel, Jeonghan had been quietly needy, never asking for much, leaving Seungcheol to trial and error his way to what made his lover see stars. At the beginning, Jeonghan had always seemed so confused by Seungcheol's interest in his pleasure, as if a bed partner doing more than taking what he needed to be satisfied was unimaginable.
Now, with the heavy cloak of Angel thrown off, Jeonghan is a peculiar mix of old and new.
The most jarring difference is, perhaps, how loud he is.
No longer is he quiet mewls and muffled sighs, silently accepting anything Seungcheol decides to do to him. For the first time in their long history together, Jeonghan tells him what he wants. Demands it. No shame in his voice as he orders Seungcheol to give him what he needs.
When they kiss he chases Seungcheol’s mouth eagerly, sucking on his tongue and lips, giving little nips when he deems Seungcheol too slow to respond. His hands roam over Seungcheol’s shirt, greedily trying to feel every part of him. Seungcheol scrambles to keep up with him, wrapping his arms tight around Jeonghan’s trim waist, kissing him deep.
Taking Seungcheol’s face in his hands, Jeonghan breaks their kiss, he keeps him millimetres out of reach, holding his gaze.
“Take off your shirt.” Seungcheol doesn’t think before he acts, merely sits up on his knees on the bed, eyes still locked with Jeonghan, and unbuttons his shirt. Jeonghan watches him closely, a dark hunger in his eyes so different from the way Angel used to look at him. Seungcheol’s skin grows warmer with every centimetre that’s revealed, his cheeks flushing when Jeonghan licks his lips at the sight of the tattoos adorning his chest.
Shirt unbuttoned he slips it off his form and discards it, but stays kneeling on the bed, waiting.
Jeonghan gives a half grin-half smirk, and lifts his hand to crook one finger at Seungcheol. A silent command that Seungcheol follows. When he’s once more hovering over Jeonghan, his love leans up to trace his mouth over his ear.
“You were right,” he whispers, hands feeling their way up Seungcheol’s stomach and pecs, traces the diamond adorning his chest.”They suit you.”
Seungcheol shivers, goosebumps spreading on the back of his neck.
“Undress me.” Jeonghan orders, and Seungcheol is eager to follow. He doesn’t bother unbuttoning his dress shirt, only pulls it up over Jeonghan’s head, freeing him from the garment in no time. Once the shirt is discarded by the bed, Seungcheol affords himself a few seconds to take in the sight of him. His heart stutters in his chest when he sees him, sees the arms that have clung to him so closely, the wide shoulders he’s kissed full of hickeys, and the thin waist he’s held in his hands so many times, cradling his darling angel like something precious.
He looks up at Jeonghan’s face again, a wide smile taking over his features when he catches Jeonghan blushing. It’s a moment of softness in the midst of their lust, something innocently intimate. It lasts only for a few seconds, before Seungcheol grabs the waistband of Jeonghan’s shorts and pulls, swiftly ridding him of them, leaving him in only his underwear. Looking down at him, the air gets punched out of Seungcheol’s lungs and his dick twitches between his legs. Jeonghan’s wearing a small, lacy pair of panties, the growing wetness from his dick, already hard and straining against the fabric, staining parts of them a darker lavender. Looking at them, gazy hungry, Seungcheol thinks to himself that out of the things Jeonghan kept from Angel, he was grateful his love for pretty underwear was one of them.
He lets his fingers ghost over the lace edge. Further up on the bed, Jeonghan gives a soft sigh, the sound spurring Seungcheol into action.
Seungcheol spreads his lover’s legs, slots himself between them, and starts placing adoring kisses and licks down his lithe thighs. Feeling his tongue on his skin, Jeonghan lets out the most delicious moan Seungcheol has ever heard. His back arching and nails scratching Seungcheol, appreciative, behind his ear.
"So good, Seungcheollie," he babbles above him, punctuated by a soft sigh, still petting his head with affection.”You always make me feel so good.”
It awakens something in him, something primal and instinctive. He’d always loved seeing Jeonghan in pleasure, wanted nothing more than to be the one to always make him feel good. Before, it had been a personal quest to coax reactions out of him, to gift his beloved angel with his love in the form of physical ecstasy. Now, after five years apart, it was about proving to Jeonghan that he could give him what no one else could.
He gets his underwear off, and starts lapping eagerly at Jeonghan's cock, hands stroking up and down the soft skin of his thighs, keeping them spread. Jeonghan’s fingers bury themselves deep within the thick strands of his hair, alternating between tugging away and pressing closer as Seungcheol sucks him off, the stimulation both too much and not enough, leaving him unable to decide what he wants.
But Seungcheol doesn’t let him get away, and when Jeonghan tries to shy away from his tongue a fourth time, he takes his hands from his hair, presses them down into the mattress to hold them still, and, in the same movement, sucks Jeonghan down fully, tip of his cock just barely gracing the back of his throat.
The sound Jeonghan lets out is unlike anything Seungcheol has ever heard. It’s loud and unrestrained, seraphic in its vulnerability, and sinful in its wantonness. Seungcheol knows they are far from alone in the building, and his insides twists with pride at the thought of the rest of the house hearing how good he makes Jeonghan feel.
Jeonghan’s legs close around Seungcheol’s head, hands fighting Seungcheol’s grip as he cries desperately in pleasure.
Seungcheol breathes through his nose and laves his tongue around the dick in his mouth as best as he can, counting the seconds as Jeonghan thrashes in his grip. On the tenth second, Seungcheol lets up. He slides his lips up over the shaft in his mouth, letting it go with a loud pop. When freed from Seungcheol, Jeonghan’s whole body twitches, and if he didn’t know the body in front of him so well, he’d think he was about to come.
Seungcheol grins at him, sharp and predatory and so, so pleased with himself. Jeonghan is panting above him, face and chest flushed red as he uses his freed hands to push his way into half-sitting position, legs still thrown over Seungcheol’s shoulders.
The room is quiet save for their breathing, and as they look at each other, they share a moment of tenderness. Seungcheol, without breaking eye contact, tilts his head to press a light kiss to the inside of Jeonghan’s leg, a soft smile on his face. Jeonghan sucks on his bottom lip, eyebrows upturned and eyes wide, face still flushed a deep red.
Seungcheol doesn’t know how long they stay gazing at one another, but after some time Jeonghan breaks the moment by sliding one hand into Seungcheol’s hair.
"I want more , Seungcheol." His voice is raw, and with an insistent tug to his hair, he directs Seungcheol's attention lower, lower, lower, until all he can see is Jeonghan’s hole, small and pink, in front of him.
I’ve fantasised about this is what he wants to say, but all that comes out is a rumbling moan accompanied by his cock twitching in his trousers. His hands lift Jeonghan’s legs off his shoulders so he can spread them properly, making Jeonghan’s hole flutter.
Above him, Jeonghan rolls his upper body to the side, and Seungcheol hears the sound of a drawer being opened, but pays it no mind, too busy spreading Jeonghan’s cheeks wider, so he can blow cool air onto his pink pucker. Jeonghan hisses, legs twitching on the mattress. He places light kisses around Jeonghan’s hole, then laves his tongue around his entrance to wet it as one finger rubs gently over it, not pushing in.
Jeonghan falls down on his back again with a moan, dropping a bottle of lube by Seungcheol’s head. Seungcheol takes the hint. Finally, he brings his tongue to Jeonghan's pretty pucker, wasting no more time teasing. He licks in and around, sucking on the skin surrounding Jeonghan's hole as he opens the bottle of lube to coat his fingers. Once lathered up, his fingers join his tongue, teasing over his entrance as his tongue works its way deeper, thick and insistent.
Jeonghan sings above him, voice loud and appreciative, echoing in the empty room. His hips work to meet Seungcheol's tongue, hands twisted in the sheets.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you, after I visited," Jeonghan's voice is breathless and weak when he starts talking, but there's an urgency to his tone that catches Seungcheol's attention."T-the handcuffs–"
Seungcheol burrows his tongue deeper into Jeonghan's hole, the slick finger he’d used to tease over the pink pucker finally entering, making Jeonghan keen as his hips work down to demand more from his lover. Seungcheol grins as well as he can while he eats him out, proud when it takes Jeonghan almost a full minute to start talking again.
"Those handcuffs ," Jeonghan repeats the word with an insistence, as if it were of the utmost importance."They were supposed to make you look subdued, weaker , b-but–"
Seungcheol works another finger into his hole, using the two fingers to spread his walls, letting his tongue work its way deeper into him.
"You looked dangerous." His voice hitches deliciously when he says this, and Seungcheol has to pause what he's doing to look up at his lover. He takes in Jeonghan’s blissed out face, his closed eyes and flushed cheeks, and can't stop his hips from canting down to grind his cock against the mattress. He hadn't gotten laid in so long, no one ever able to measure up to this divine creature before him. Jeonghan had ruined him for anyone else.
"I wanted to ride you," Seungcheol purrs deep in his throat at how longing Jeonghan sounds, as if there was nothing else in the world he’d rather do than ride Seungcheol. "I thought about going back, about telling the guards they could watch, I just wanted to be in your lap with you inside me, but unable to do anything, watching you fight against your restraints, all so you could touch me, take me properly."
Seungcheol can imagine it. Eyes glazing over as he envisions it. Jeonghan in his lap, bouncing eagerly as he chases satisfaction, babbling the way he is now, using Seungcheol for his own pleasure. Seungcheol, held down by chains to his chair, unable to touch, but desperate to do so. Seeing Jeonghan in front of him, hearing his voice as he moans, wanting to wrap his hands around that little waist, hold him still as he fucks up into him, ruthless and fast, but being denied. Oh, how he’d hate it. He’d sit, snarling and angry, proving just how dangerous he could be. And yet, his dick grows impossibly harder between his legs, spurting precum from the tip, a wet patch forming on his crotch.
Jeonghan's stomach is glistening with precum, and despite Seungcheol having stopped moving, his hips are still working, trying to get his fingers in deeper. Seungcheol can’t seem to form words, his brain refusing to form any thoughts but how badly he wants to fuck the man under him, bury his cock deep inside him and make him moan his pleasure loud and shameless into the night.
"Fuck, Jeonghannie." His voice is a deep, rasping sound, the words the only ones his head could manage to piece together.
Jeonghan's eyes snap open when Seungcheol speaks, and before Seungcheol knows it a fist has taken hold of his hair and pulled him up until his face is level with Jeonghan's. Seungcheol snarls at the pain spreading through his scalp, gritting his teeth, but he doesn’t fight it, only follows Jeonghan’s touch obediently.
"You're mine, Seungcheol." Seungcheol is held in place by his stare and the hand still holding his hair."No one else can have you.”
“No one else can have me,” he agrees and starts moving his fingers, his focus now on getting Jeonghan loose and ready as soon as possible. Jeonghan owns him. Owns his heart and his soul, the ruler of Seungcheol’s life and the true monarch of his empire. His hands are only to give Jeonghan what he wants, his back is only for shouldering the weight Jeonghan can’t carry, his mouth is only to worship Jeonghan. His cock is only for pleasuring Jeonghan.
As Seungcheol works a second finger into his hole, Jeonghan reaches a hand down between them, swiftly undoing Seungcheol’s trousers, shoving them down just enough so he can wrap his hand around his dick. Seungcheol curses loudly when Jeonghan strokes him, his dick grateful for the stimulation.
They keep their faces close together, but not touching, as their hands work, breaths fanning out over their faces as they pant and moan in unison. Seungcheol works his fingers, now three of them, deeper and deeper into his ass, stroking against Jeonghan’s wall, working him open. Jeonghan runs his fist over Seungcheol’s cock, grip hard and pace steady, making his hips stutter as he works them down in time with his strokes.
Jeonghan still has his other fist curled in Seungcheol’s hair, and he uses it now to pull him down to claim his lips. The kiss is messy, ruled by lust and desperation, making it more of a filthy mess of tongues and spit than anything else.
Seungcheol loses track of time while they kiss, the pleasure building in him, making his hips work more insistently in Jeonghan’s grip as he licks his way deeper into his lover’s mouth. Suddenly, Jeonghan tugs his face away again, using the grip of his hair to break their kiss. Seungcheol rumbles, displeased, as Jeonghan’s hand leaves his cock.
"I'm ready," Jeonghan's whisper makes him shiver, toes curling in anticipation. Five years of waiting, but now he was here, Jeonghan in his arms and his empire waiting. He pulls his fingers out, kissing Jeonghan's brow in apology when he hisses at the loss.
He's leaning up, aligning his cock with Jeonghan's entrance, when a thought strikes him.
"Condom?" His voice is nothing more than a faint croaking sound, but Jeonghan understands, judging by the amused smile he gives him.
"I have had no one else, Seungcheol."
Seungcheol's mouth goes dry. Jeonghan hadn't loved anyone else. Touched anyone else. There is a world of implications behind the statement, about their shared bond and Jeonghan's plans for him even as he ousted him from his empire. Maybe he was as ruined as Seungcheol was.
Jeonghan lifts his hand to his face, strokes his jaw lovingly."Aren't you going to fuck me?"
Seungcheol jumps into action.
When he pushes in, Jeonghan’s eyes roll back, and it takes all of what little self-control Seungcheol has not to snap his hips forward, his body desperate to fuck into him properly. He breathes deeply, focuses on the strain in his shoulders from holding himself up, and not on the way Jeonghan is wrapped around his cock, wet and tight, just like before.
“Move.”
The one, breathless command is all Seungcheol needs. He draws his hips back, slow, and when he pushes in again, it is with one long, steady thrust. They moan in unison, Jeonghan's hands finding their way to his shoulders, nails digging in harshly. Seungcheol starts thrusting in earnest, panting as he pistons his hips.
"A–ah, that's right, Seungcheollie," Jeonghan's nails claw further down his back."You fuck me so well."
"You know just what to do," Jeonghan sighs with pleasure, nails still dragging harsh lines down his back. It stings, but Seungcheol doesn't mind the pain, accepts it willingly if it's from Jeonghan."Always serving me obediently."
"Anything for you, Jeonghannie." He'd meant it as something lighthearted, a throwaway comment to appease his love, but it comes out earnest, desperate, like a promise.
Something shifts, and suddenly Jeonghan’s hands are gentle on his shoulders.
“Seungcheol,” he pants out, tugging him down by his shoulder and wrapping his legs tight around his hips.
He clings to him, mouth buried in his shoulder, hitched moans spilling out of him every time Seungcheol pistons into him. This is familiar, Seungcheol thinks, mind flashing back to five years ago, before everything, and he remembers the many times Jeonghan had clung to him like this, desperate and vulnerable. He slows his pace, but keeps his thrusts steady and thorough, the way he knows Jeonghan likes. Jeonghan clings even closer to him in appreciation, and Seungcheol responds by nuzzling into his hair, burying his nose in his blonde strands, damp from sweat.
“Ca-call me angel,” Jeonghan demands in a whisper, before going back to clutching Seungcheol close.
“Angel,” Seungcheol whispers. It sounds like a prayer, like a hymn, a promise. Jeonghan whimpers.“Are you my angel, Jeonghannie?”
He feels Jeonghan nod into his shoulder. His heart swells. He can feel himself get closer to the edge, so he traces a hand down between them to take Jeonghan’s hardness in his hand, stroking in time with his thrusts.
“You’ve been so good, Hani.” He kisses his way down the side of Jeonghan’s face, murmuring adoration into his skin.”You’re so clever, aren’t you, angel?”
“My pretty love, wrapping the world around his finger.”
Jeonghan keens against his shoulder, hips alternating between bucking up into Seungcheol’s hand, and down onto his cock, eagerly seeking his climax. Seungcheol can tell he’s close, the way he mouths at the skin on his shoulder a tell-tale sign.
“I wanna come, Seungcheollie, make me come,” Jeonghan urges below him, thighs closing even tighter around his waist when he speeds up his pace in response.
When Jeonghan comes, it is with his mouth latched onto Seungcheol’s skin, mouth open in a loud moan that gets muffled in his shoulder, and his arms and legs clutching Seungcheol even tighter, until Seungcheol can only grind his cock into him, not able to move away with how close Jeonghan is holding him. Time seems to slow down, Seungcheol not able to focus on anything but how heavenly Jeonghan sounds as he climaxes, voice wrecked and desperate despite being muffled by Seungcheol’s skin. He wants to memorise this moment, the way his love sounds, the way he feels, wants to keep it with him for the rest of his life.
When his high is over Jeonghan lets his grip go, falling slack onto the mattress, hands resting by his head and legs spread wide, stomach and chest messy from his release. Seungcheol meets his hooded eyes with adoration, slowly starting to work his hips into him again. Jeonghan’s breath hitches just the slightest.
“You take su-such good care of me, Seungcheollie.” Jeonghan manages to say, the overstimulation no doubt the only thing keeping him from giving in to sleep.”No one makes me feel as good as you.”
Seungcheol groans at the praise, dick twitching inside Jeonghan. His hips speed up, now focused on chasing his own climax. He's close, pleasure wound tight like a coil within him.
"Yo–you're so good for me, Se–Seungcheollie," Jeonghan stutters as he speaks, body twitching as Seungcheol fucks into his sensitive hole. His hands are stroking along his chest and shoulders, encouraging him."Strong and h–handsome."
He collapses down onto Jeonghan, one arm wrapping tight around his waist, the other gripping the sheets above their heads for purchase as he thrusts, desperate and hard into Jeonghan's sensitive hole. Jeonghan starts whining into his ear.
"Are you going to come for me, Seungcheollie?" Jeonghan's words push him over the edge, making him spill into him as he moans, high and shameless into the dark room. He grinds his cock deep into him as he comes, faintly picking up on Jeonghan whispering words of encouragement in his ear.
Coming down from his high, he collapses to the side, pulling his cock out of Jeonghan as he does so.
♡
Later, when they’re lying close together in the dark, arms tight around each other despite the stickiness from their long overdue reunion, Jeonghan surprises Seungcheol when he speaks.
“Why did you let me go?”
Seungcheol hums a questioning sound, not quite sure what Jeonghan is referring to.
“You could have taken me down with you,” Jeonghan starts running one of his fingers over Seungcheol’s back, painting shapes across his skin.”I was just as guilty as you.”
Seungcheol smiles, nuzzles deeper into Jeonghan’s temple.
“I couldn’t.”
“There was more than enough evidence.”
The words hang in the air around them for a few seconds, and briefly Seungcheol wonders if Jeonghan felt guilty for what he did to him.
“The first time we made love,” his voice is a soft whisper, but the words still echo in the room.”I promised I’d never let anything happen to you.”
He can’t see Jeonghan’s face in the dark, but he hears him swallow thickly, and he feels his finger run across his back, painting his shapes with more insistence.
“I’m not a good man, Jeonghannie,” he wraps his arms tighter around his lover, trying to soothe the anxiety he can feel radiating from him. “But I’m a man who keeps his promises.”
Jeonghan stops his gentle tracing, hand laying flat on Seungcheol’s back so he can wind his arm around him once more.
“I’m not a good man, either,” Jeonghan whispers.
Seungcheol presses a kiss to his forehead.“Sleep, Hani.”
When they fall asleep, Seungcheol can still feel the shapes Jeonghan traced on his back, as if they were imprinted there. Love, it says, deep and permanent on his back, only for Seungcheol and Jeonghan to know.