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go there when you touch me

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At Minseok’s Halloween party, Jongin sees his ex boyfriend. Which, whatever, would be fine, since they share a lot of mutual friends, and Jongin can’t tell him who to talk to or where to go, since Jongin Does Not talk to him anymore, even if he did have the best dick Jongin’s ever gotten in his life. Fuck, that was, like, limping for two days after dick. That was call out of work at 6AM while still being fucked dick. Jongin misses it, except that the best dick of his life was attached to an actual dick, but that was Jongin’s fault for dating a film/literature double major, who fucking minored in business like some asshole. He couldn’t even do math. Dumbass. Why major in two useless majors, and then not be able to do enough thinking for your backup plan to work.

Yes, Jongin is a literature major, too. No, he cannot do basic math. At least he’s not a dick. At least he never has to speak to business majors. Capitalist fucking U.S. ass licking pigs.

So Jongin is a little tipsy.

“Jongin, you are shitfaced, would you even consider drinking water,” Junmyeon says, patting Jongin’s cheek.

Jongin bares his teeth. “I’m not even drunk.”

“That’s how I know you’re shitfaced,” Junmyeon says. Junmyeon slurs. Junmyeon is drunk, too. Way drunker than he thinks Jongin is. “Yeah, but at least I’m trying to sober up.”

“What are you drinking? It smells like vodka.”

Junmyeon pulls his cup back defensively. “There’s orange juice. Not drinking it straight up anymore. See? Sober. Ing.”

It would be fine that Jongin’s dick ex with excellent dick is here, except that Jongin has been—well, how can he beat parse this?

“And please let us know before you go suck someone off in their car.”

Right. He’s been kind of slutty. Or very. Okay, it’s difficult, going from perfect dick every day to pretending to block that perfect dick’s number. It’s kind of like he’s sowing his oats. He was with his ex so long, three long years, and he almost married the bastard, Jesus, so he wants to catch up on sex. Regularly. He likes sucking cock and he likes getting fucked hard, and it’s no one’s business who he does it with. Or how many he does it with. Or how many at a time. Good thing his friends aren’t judgmental. Actually, no, they are, about everything else, but not about this.

Maybe he’s afraid that if he gets close enough to talk to Perfect Dick, he’ll drop to his knees and beg to suck his balls. Which he shouldn’t do. Neither of them should.

Not like it’ll be a hardship for the other guy. It’s Halloween, and Sehun chose their outfits, so Jongin is dressed in a slightly sluttier rendition of Sailor Mars, his red hair—fine, it’s a mullet, and he looks fucking great—slicked back, a skirt that does not pass any uniform codes, and whatever the rest of the costume is. Like, a shirt. Accessories. It wouldn’t be his first time wearing a skirt while having sex with Perfect Dick, but he’s determined, really, not to have sex with Perfect Dick.

Which is how he ends up mouthing at Kyungsoo’s balls thirteen minutes later, in an empty room of this frat house.

“Oh shit,” Kyungsoo says, running a hand through Jongin’s hair, even though it took a lot of maybe flammable hairspray to get it right. God. What a fucking asshole. Jongin closes his eyes and moans, licking messily around Kyungsoo’s ballsack when he tightens his hand in Jongin’s ruined hair. The door isn’t even closed, Jongin couldn’t wait that long. Jongin doesn’t care if anyone sees. Jongin almost wants someone to see, just how good only he can make it for Kyungsoo. Like that freshman Kyungsoo was dancing with earlier. Yeah. Jongin can’t kill a freshman, but maybe if they walked in, they’d die of embarrassment at how much better Jongin is at this than they ever will be, and then it’ll be like Jongin gained something from deep throating his ex.

God, he missed sucking him off. He bobs his head up and down Kyungsoo’s dick, moaning wetly at the stretch in his jaw, at how Kyungsoo’s cock twitches more precome onto his tongue. God. Fuck. God. That’s so good. Jongin could bathe in that, it’s so good.

“Fuck, I forgot how fucking greedy you are,” Kyungsoo groans. “Who else could you be this greedy for? Fuck.” Kyungsoo doesn’t ask, the asshole, just arches his hips forward, pushing his cock further down Jongin’s mouth. Luckily for him, this is exactly how Jongin likes it, being forced to take more cock before he thinks he’s ready. It gets him so fucking hard. He spreads his knees on the hardwood, his cock hard and straining beneath the skirt.

Jongin bobs on Kyungsoo’s cock more desperately, trying now to get it into his throat. It’s not an easy feat, which is another tally against most of the other guys he’s tried to choke on. Kyungsoo moves his hands to the back of Jongin’s head, one tight in his hair, the other digging hard fingers into the sensitive skin of his neck. It hurts a little. Jongin whimpers, fucking his mouth on Kyungsoo’s fat cock. “Shit, take it,” Kyungsoo says, thrusting forward, making Jongin gag. “Take it in your throat. We both know that’s what you came for, for me to choke you out and force it down your throat.”

Jongin whines, tilting his head back a little as Kyungsoo does just that, forcing Jongin’s head down on his cock as he fucks in. Kyungsoo’s balls slap Jongin’s chin with every thrust forward, a loud and wet sound, almost as wet as the gargle of saliva in Jongin’s mouth, choking on Kyungsoo’s cock. Jongin rubs a hand over his hard cock, too horny to be embarrassed about the wet spot over his soft cotton panties. Kyungsoo pushes Jongin all the way forward now, lips pressed to Kyungsoo’s pelvis, the scratchy curl of his pubic hair. “Don’t fucking touch yourself, you know better.” Back when they were dating, Jongin did know better, that Kyungsoo decided when and where and how he’d touch himself and come. Or come. Not always both. But they’re not together anymore, and the boys that fuck Jongin now don’t care, don’t have the depth to care. Luckily for Kyungsoo, Jongin wants a good orgasm, like spurt untouched while on his hands and knees with a cock and two fingers in his ass good, so he listens. Yeah. Lucky for Kyungsoo.

Jongin’s throat spasms and gags around the head of Kyungsoo’s cock, and Kyungsoo grunts, shallow little thrusts forward to get Jongin used to the pressure in his throat. Ugh, this is perfect. Whenever Jongin deepthroats someone else, they’re always going on about taking a break or breathing or not wanting Jongin to choke. Which, newsflash, fuckers, if a known slut swallows your cock down his throat on the first date, then don’t waste his time pretending like that’s not why you swiped for it on Tinder. One of Jongin’s pictures is of him laying back on his elbows on a bed with a lollipop in his mouth. There’s no subtlety there.

Kyungsoo is Perfect Dick because once Jongin starts relaxing with the shallow thrusts, breathing easy in through his nose, Kyungsoo starts fucking his throat hard, hands pressing Jongin in so he can’t move away on instinct.

“Good girls shouldn’t know how to suck cock like this,” says Kyungsoo. Jongin moans. “Good girls don’t fuck every boy in a five mile radius, either, huh? You know they talk about you? At the gym. Share pictures. Some asshole showed me this video of you getting fucked by three men at once, how you came all over yourself five, six times, while they just kept going at you, taking turns with your easy hole over and over until you’re passed out and they spurt on your face.” Jongin spreads his knees wider, beyond horny. Fuck, he remembers that one. He’d gone over to his classmate’s place to work on a project, but Jongin had been high and a little horny, and Seonhyung was kinda cute and squeezing and rubbing his hand on Jongin’s thighs, high up where Jongin was sensitive and soft, so he’d dropped to his knees for him, suckled the head of his cock with no finesse like he was nothing more than a desperate cock hungry slut, which he kind of was, but it made Seonhyung a little mean, made him force his cock into Jongin’s mouth and jackrabbit into his throat. Then into his ass. Then his roommates showed up, and were like lemme get his pussy next if it’s still tight to Seonhyung as if Jongin wasn’t even there, and that was the first time he came. The next had been when one of the roommates started recording it when he did fuck Jongin next, fucking in the wet splatter of lube deeper into Jongin’s hole with his swollen cock, hand tight on Jongin’s ass and grunting with every thrust in. So fucking tight for a whore, shit. They’d just taken turns with him over and over again, literally ran a train on him like he was a whore for rent, and it had given Jongin wet dreams for weeks. Seonhyung had fucked him again after the other two did, just getting right behind his ass and mounting him, pushing his dick back into Jongin’s sloppy hole and demanding one more time, baby, lemme fuck your little pussy one more time, into his ear even as he already started to move, fast uneven thrusts in and out, fucking him like a virgin getting pussy for the first time, while the second roommate shoved his cock past Jongin’s open whimpering mouth, and held his chin so tight it turned red. It turned Jongin on so much, that he could have that effect on someone.

He swallows around Kyungsoo’s cock, relishing when he grunts low in his throat and slams into Jongin harder. His throat will be so bruised tomorrow. “One of you sucking off half the baseball team, and you’re looking the camera right in the eye as you mouth two cocks at once, come on your lips and eyes. That why you broke up with me? So you could become the fucking campus whore?”

Jongin whines, fucking faster on Kyungsoo’s cock. “After this, you gonna go get the other half of the team?” He nudges Jongin’s erection with the toe of his boot, and it makes him cry out even around—actually, probably because—of the weight in his throat. It wasn’t even half the team, just a threesome, but Jongin doesn’t mind Kyungsoo’s exaggerations, not when they burn so tight in his gut. “Let them fuck your ass raw? Make sure you get them to nut inside too? God, you’re so fucking greedy.”

Kyungsoo is being mean.

Which is good, obviously, because when Jongin dragged him up to this room, the only thing he said when he fell to his knees and hastily unbuckled Kyungsoo’s belt was, “be really mean,” so it is good that Kyungsoo still knows how. When they first got together, after, like, a month of vanilla sex, when Kyungsoo accidentally told Jongin to shut up when Jongin begged him to fuck him harder and then Jongin came so hard he passed out, true story, Jongin had admitted that he was into that, that Kyungsoo could and should be mean to him sometimes in bed. Kyungsoo used to be all oh I hope I’m not choking you are you okay sad face and now he’s like if you’re not gonna choke on it then don’t bother wasting my time. Ugh. Jongin trained him so well.

It’s pretty hot when Kyungsoo wraps a hand around Jongin’s throat, where he can feel Jongin around his dick and also make Jongin so lightheaded from lack of air he almost passes out, his own dick twitching between his legs, even after Kyungsoo lets go at the perfect moment. He pulls out, too, and Jongin rests his forehead on his ex’s thigh and gasps for breath.

“Suck my balls,” Kyungsoo demands. “Stop wasting my fucking time.” Jongin gets his mouth back on Kyungsoo’s balls, rolling the soft and heavy flesh between his lips. Kyungsoo groans, again and again when Jongin moves down a little to lick wetly at his perineum, looking up at Kyungsoo’s head thrown back as his hips pulse forward into the taste. Jongin looks up through hooded eyes as he laps at Kyungsoo’s perineum, loving how his ex’s breathing picks up. “Oh fuck, that’s it, that’s fucking it, you dirty fucking girl,” Kyungsoo says, gripping Jongin’s hair to hold him in place. “Fuck, good fucking girl. Fuck no wonder everyone’s had a turn with you, slutty little cocksucker.” Jongin sucks Kyungsoo’s balls back into his mouth and lets his mouth get lax with drool, before going up and taking Kyungsoo’s fat cock back into his mouth, drooling all over it the way Kyungsoo likes.


Kyungsoo pushes Jongin’s skirt up right over his ass and gropes it. “Shit, you still have these panties?” These are the ones he had from when they were still together, soft white with baby girl in writing across the ass. Kyungsoo loves these. Sometimes Jongin would wear just this and take a nap in their bed while waiting for Kyungsoo to get home from work, and every time he’d wake up from the jostle of getting fucked, Kyungsoo deep in his ass and grunting in his ear. He wouldn’t even remove his work clothes, still dressed up in his paralegal clothing, the tie damp and the belt hitting Jongin’s ass with every fuck in. God Jongin loved that, loved feeling like he was just a toy for Kyungsoo to fuck into, loved how Kyungsoo would groan fuck, baby girl, you’re so fucking sexy taking all of my cock, and then spurt and spurt hot seed into his ass.

“I wear them for every man who fucks me,” Jongin says, cruelly.

Kyungsoo slaps his ass, hard enough Jongin jumps. “Don’t lie to my face.” He doesn’t even wait for Jongin to reply before pulling the panties down and grinding his cock into the crease. “Fuck, you’re prepped? Fuck. Fuck.” He grips Jongin’s hips too tight and starts shoving in and in and in, not bothering to check on Jongin or give him time to breathe. “Fuck, I love your pussy, it’s so good. It’s so goddamn good.”

Jongin’s cunt loves it, too. Kyungsoo’s dick is too much, more than Jongin ever expected, the first time Jongin fondled Kyungsoo’s cock in a movie theater and got so overwhelmed he had to pull it out of the jeans to see, glad that the theater was almost empty. And then naturally he had to see if he could take it down his throat, Kyungsoo groaning low under his breath as he patted Jongin’s hair. He couldn’t deepthroat it then, but he had a lot of practice after. The first few times, they spent, like, forty-five minutes prepping Jongin, had to buy a toy just to get him loose enough.

Even now, the stretch burns and burns, and he has to bite down on the pillow around the dull ache. He hasn’t taken Kyungsoo in so long, and even after fucking himself earlier today, he still feels too small, like Kyungsoo is too thick to take. He whimpers into the pillow, and his eyes get wet with the effort. He’s so hard his cock is leaking into the underwear.

“That’s it,” Kyungsoo says. “Not so bratty now, hm?”

“Fuck you," Jongin says.

Kyungsoo hits his ass, right above his balls, and Jongin jerks, it hurts so much. Fuck. Kyungsoo never believed in warm ups. “Keep talking,” Kyungsoo prods. “Let’s see whether you can walk after.”

“I fucking ha—“ But Jongin doesn’t get to finish, because Kyungsoo slaps him again before pulling out, finally, and shoving in all the way at once, making Jongin take it hard even around the soreness of his ass. “Oh, oh, hmghhngh,” or whatever unintelligible noise he manages, spit pooling in his mouth with need.

“Go ahead,” Kyungsoo says. “Say you hate me.”

Jongin—does hate him, fuck, he’s spent months and months hating him and incapable of getting him out of his head, but all he wants to care about now is the heavy stretch of his cock inside, how good it feels to be fucked the way he likes. He snarls, but hides his face in the pillow.

“That’s it,” Kyungsoo repeats. “You get the attention you wanted, baby? You let yourself get fucked every other day and you thought that would hurt me?” He fucks Jongin at breakneck speed, sharp and hard thrusts that really make Jongin feel the stretch every time, feel how sensitive his hole is and how fucking good this feels. “Go ahead. Try to fuck them in front of me. I don’t need to prove anything.”

Jongin whines, eyes shut tight. Kyungsoo leans closer, until his hips are on top of Jongin’s ass and his chest is pressed to Jongin’s back, forearms braced to keep the weight. It forces him even deeper, and Jongin’s hole clenches uncontrollably, a low, wounded noise rising from his throat. “I know you’re mine,” Kyungsoo murmurs into his ear, the air hot and light, a jarring contrast to the punishing shove of his cock and the, the absolute bullshit he spews.

“Fuck you,” Jongin says again, although it might not have the same bite with his face buried into the pillow.

Kyungsoo just laughs. “What, you think I don’t know that you knew I was back in town? That I was coming here tonight?” He snaps the waistband of the panties, and Jongin hisses. “These are only for me. You wouldn’t dare wear them for someone else.”

Jongin can’t manage a comeback, drooling into cotton as Kyungsoo fucks high desperate noises out of him. Kyungsoo gropes his ass cheeks and says, “this pussy’s mine.” His other hand snakes under Jongin’s body to grope his cock, rolling it in his hand a few gut wrenching times. “This is mine.” With other men, biting is pretty much the only thing he doesn’t allow, because when Kyungsoo does it—Kyungsoo bites down hard in his neck, right on the top, below his chin, where Jongin can’t hide it with clothing, and then sucks harshly on the skin, Jongin’s breath hitching and cock pulsing, even though Kyungsoo’s not holding it anymore. “That’s mine, too, baby girl, and you know it as well as I do.”

Kyungsoo wraps his hands on Jongin’s wide shoulders and uses that to brace himself as he jackrabbits with fast and brutal precision into Jongin’s hole, breathing heavily and grunting into his ear. Jongin is so overwhelmed. Kyungsoo hasn’t even hit his prostate yet, and Jongin knows it’s on purpose, but he still can’t control the muffled and high noises forced out of him. He just loves getting fucked. He loves being held down and mounted and made to feel small, loves the way men groan into his ear as they use his hole, loves that he gets so tight and his hole gets so small again every time, so that it always feels like too much, always burns a little at first, makes men grunt how wet and deep his virgin pussy is. All of this is heightened exponentially when it’s Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo moves his hands down Jongin’s sides to his hips, and grabs them so he can pull them up, brace a little more of Jongin’s weight on his knees. This way, Jongin’s cock isn’t rubbing into the comforter through his soaked panties, and Jongin has to focus on nothing other than the full pressure of getting fucked. Jongin moans, wanton and needy, and puts his hands up so that Kyungsoo knows he won’t touch himself, an old habit that’s easy to remember.

“Oh, shit, look at that.” Kyungsoo groans, “look at you. I knew all you wanted was to be a good girl, look at how sweet you give it up for me.”

“Please,” Jongin finally says. “Hyung, please—“

“Shh,” Kyungsoo shushes, rolling his hips in a dirty grind into Jongin’s ass, giving him room to breathe outside of the rough fuck. “It’s okay. It’s okay. You still want me to be mean, or can I be sweet on you now?”

Jongin doesn’t know if he can handle Kyungsoo breaking role and being sweet, feels like one kind word will send him spiraling, make him sob into the down. Just the short praise earlier almost sent him under. But God, he wants normal Kyungsoo now. He wants it a lot. “Sweet,” he mutters.

At once, Kyungsoo places a gentle kiss in the center of his back and pulls out. Jongin moans with loss, but lets himself get manhandled onto his back, and lets Kyungsoo push his legs up by the soft flesh of his thigh, and lets him line up and push his cock back inside, more careful now with Jongin’s sore hole.

“Baby,” Kyungsoo murmurs, kissing all over Jongin’s neck and face, his hands running reverently down Jongin’s sides, “I missed you so much,” as if they haven’t been fucking this long already. Jongin gets it, though. There’s still hurt aching underneath this, but it feels so good to be here and to feel good. Kyungsoo closed the door before they moved to the bed, so the sounds of the party downstairs are muted. Jongin does love this.

“Are you okay?” Kyungsoo asks, slowly starting up a pace again. Now, he does even, deep fucks inside, grinding in, in, in with every movement forward, making sure Jongin feels every inch of his cock, every time. He cages Jongin in with his arms. Sweat from previous exertion trails down his close cropped hair and perfect nose to drop onto Jongin’s cheek. “Was I too rough? I think I still have the aloe vera lotion you like in my car, if you wanna apply after.”

“Shut up,” Jongin mumbles, covering his face with his palm. Kyungsoo removes it, holding it in his next to Jongin’s temple.

“No,” Kyungsoo says. “I missed you. You feel so good.”

Jongin shuts his eyes tight. Too much, looking at Kyungsoo. “Be mean again,” he says, a terrible lie.

Kyungsoo hides his face in Jongin’s neck. “I can’t right now. You want me to fuck you hard?”

“Whatever makes you stop bullshitting like you don’t already have me in bed,” Jongin says.

Kyungsoo transitions out of the deep and languid pace into a harsh and bruising fuck instantly, the loud squelch of lube and precome in Jongin’s hole. “You think I don’t love you?” Kyungsoo asks, only a little out of breath. “Baby, it doesn’t matter how much you pretend to hate me, how mad you are at me—‘m still gonna love you and want you.”

Jongin covers his mouth with his hand; he wants to limit how much noise he makes, but Kyungsoo knows how to fuck him, better than anyone else on the entire planet, and he’s pulling out all the stops, everything that makes Jongin weak at the knees—holding his hand, because Jongin is a fucking caricature of a human, kissing and sucking on his neck where everyone will see in the morning, rolling his hips with every push in. Fuck, it feels so fucking good, and Jongin can’t, he really cannot, help the wounded sounds punched out of his throat, soft keens every time Kyungsoo’s balls slap his ass.

“I was your first,” Kyungsoo murmurs, moaning when Jongin tightens around him, “and when you get over yourself, I’m gonna be your last.”

“I’m allowed to, ah, fuck, be mad,” Jongin tries to snap, but he thinks the moan that breaks apart his sentence fucks with the anger.

When they were in the thick of it, that always set Kyungsoo off, made him annoyed and pissed off, called Jongin childish, immature. “Sure you are,” Kyungsoo says. “But I’m not arguing with you about this.” He shifts his knees higher up on the bed, getting himself even deeper into Jongin’s hole and gripping Jongin’s thighs tighter, too tight, bruises for days, and drops almost all of his weight onto Jongin’s body. Oh God, Jongin’s thinks, and then Kyungsoo angles himself so that his cock finally hits Jongin’s prostate when he fucks in. And fuck, does he fuck him.

Feels like everything before this was just foreplay, like Kyungsoo was making sure he could take it, teasing a looseness out of Jongin’s hole that he knew wouldn’t come but that made Jongin relax all over, except that now Jongin spasms around Kyungsoo’s cock every time he fucks into his sensitive spot. It’s too much. It’s too much and he knows Kyungsoo won’t stop unless Jongin tells him to. And Jongin will not tell him to.

“I don’t need to be mean to get your cock wet,” Kyungsoo murmurs. “I don’t need to be mean to make you come. You’re gonna come when I tell you to, because you’re my good girl, and you wanna stay good for me.”

Getting called good, in that low pulse of Kyungsoo’s voice, while his cock swells inside Jongin, is absolutely intoxicating. Jongin whimpers, biting down on his bottom lip and shutting his eyes tight. “Open your eyes,” Kyungsoo says. Jongin opens them, hooded and heavy, and moans just at the sight of Kyungsoo. He’s so fucking hot. He’s so fucking hot and he fucks Jongin best, in the entire world. “Do you feel good?” Kyungsoo asks him. Jongin nods frantically. He doesn’t wanna risk Kyungsoo stopping. He would die, he really thinks he would die. “Tell me how good.”

“Feels perfect,” he says, words heavy on his tongue. He’s forgetting why he’s upset, why he should hide how perfect this is from Kyungsoo. “Hyung, you feel so—ah, shit, yes,” and uses his free hand to cover his mouth, endless little noises escaping with every hard push in. “Hyung,” he begs, “please, please—“

Kyungsoo moves Jongin’s hand aside and smashes their lips together for a wet and biting kiss, shoving his tongue into Jongin’s mouth, and letting saliva run between their mouths. He makes even this feel filthy. Like every part of Jongin belongs to him. Jongin moans, beyond easy for it.

“You’re so, hyung, you’re so deep in my pussy,” Jongin whines. “‘S perfect, so good, want you inside all the fucking time.”

Kyungsoo groans, hips stuttering unevenly in Jongin’s hole. “Would come in your pink pussy every fucking day if you let me.”

“I’d let you,” Jongin promised, “I will, I want it so bad, even—“ He cuts himself off with a gasp, arching his back high off the bed, hole going so tight around Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo looks up at him beneath his eyelashes from where he’s got his mouth wrapped around one of Jongin’s nipples, gently rubbing the tight bud between his teeth, because he wants to kill Jongin. That’s gotta be why. Goddamn. Fuck.

“Fuck,” Jongin moans, “fuck, oh God, fuck, yes, hyung,” arching up into the feeling. Kyungsoo sucks on his nipples until Jongin is shaking, so close he thinks he will burst out of his skin, collapse into a million pieces when he comes. His nipples are stupid sensitive, and Kyungsoo has spent nights playing with them until Jongin comes just like that, nipples bruised and sore and swollen the next morning. Kyungsoo made him come in his pants at a party once, just from sucking on his nipples through his shirt against the wall, in the space behind a staircase, where everyone who walked by could see Jongin whimpering just from a mouth kissing his tits. This feels like a dirty play, and exactly what Kyungsoo would wait to do after Jongin already succumbed to the pleasure, so that he’d know it was for more than just the mouth on his tits. Goddamn.

“D’you like that, sweetheart?” Kyungsoo asks, flicking the tight and needy bud with his tongue until Jongin’s eyes water, he’s so overwhelmed.

“I love it, I love it,” he slurs, tongue heavy in his mouth. “Fuck me, please, please, wan’ it s‘bad, so so—“

Kyungsoo shushes him, hips still working relentlessly into Jongin’s pussy, and then he sucks so hard and brutal on Jongin’s nipple that it hurts, that his cock twitches in his panties and spurts out precome, like it’s, ah, God, pulsing from how well he gets his pussy played with. That sounds like the filth Kyungsoo says, which only turns him on even more.

“I like it, too, I like it a lot,” Kyungsoo breathes, and then shoves that dirty tongue back into Jongin’s mouth, running it over Jongin’s teeth and gums and sucking Jongin’s tongue into his mouth. Jongin moans, feeling like every pleasure point in his body is being controlled by Kyungsoo.

“Hyung,” Jongin breathes.

“Isn’t it good?” Kyungsoo asks, sucking on his chin. “Isn’t it good getting your cunt fucked like this, the way you like it?”

Jongin cries out and scratches his nails down Kyungsoo’s back, nails digging right into the flesh beneath his shirt. “Hyung,” he moans.

“That’s it,” Kyungsoo groans. “Take hyung’s cock, I’m gonna fill you up so much, gonna come inside until it’s leaking out of you—“

“Wanna come,” Jongin says. “Hyung, please please I wanna come, wanna.”

Kyungsoo is everywhere at once, flicks Jongin’s nipple with his tongue, fast and cruel, and hums when Jongin chokes on a sob. His eyes water. He thinks he might cry. Someone is singing karaoke downstairs. “What if I was mean again like you asked and didn’t let you come?”

“Please, God, please,” Jongin says, wired high and almost out of his mind with it. When was the last time sex was this perfect, got all his likes lined up so naturally in just one moment? Fuck.

“You wouldn’t,” Kyungsoo promises. “If I said no, you wouldn’t. All you’d do is walk back downstairs with your dirty panties and my nut in your ass, and everyone would know. Everyone would see how fucked and used you were, and I wouldn’t let anyone else touch you. Do you know why, baby?”

Jongin shakes his head.

Kyungsoo laughs breathily and bites his nipple. “Liar. Tell me why.”

Jongin shuts his eyes. Kyungsoo bites his nipple again, harder this time, so Jongin opens his eyes and stares up at Kyungsoo’s. “Because this, ah, my cunt’s yours.”

“God, baby,” Kyungsoo moans, panting open mouthed over Jongin’s nipple, his dick twitching inside of Jongin. “Fuck, God, you’re so tight, Jongin. Christ. Is this too much for you? Do you need me to stop?”

“No,” Jongin says, dogging his nails hard into Kyungsoo’s back, so close to orgasm that the pleasure almost hurts, “it‘s perfect, hyung, it’s perfect with you.”

Kyungsoo moans again and leans back up to kiss Jongin, messy and lax as he fucks in with even more care now, slow like this is their first time, the way they fucked in Kyungsoo’s childhood room a few Christmases ago when they were home alone. Something frightening curls in Jongin’s stomach, something hot and familiar that only sharpens when Kyungsooo says, “is it just your hole that’s mine?”

Jongin shuts his eyes tight and keens. He shakes his head. Kyungsoo angles himself so that he can palm Jongin’s dick, working his hand slowly on the underside. “Oh, fuck,” says Jongin.

Kyungsoo smiles against his mouth. Jongin knows he’s close because this is Kyungsoo at his most normal, when he’s too close and relaxed to even play at dommy or mean the way Jongin sometimes likes. Jongin forgot that he missed this. He missed it a lot.

“Do you want me to keep touching you after you come, or to let go?” Kyungsoo asks.

“I can come?” Jongin breathes. He feels twenty feet above ground, miles above the earth.

“‘Course you can,” Kyungsoo says, sucking that same sore spot right below Jongin’s chin. “‘M not being mean anymore, just wanna make you feel good.”

“Feel good even you’re mean,” Jongin says, low and a little out of it with want and something else, something more than.

“Good,” says Kyungsoo, rubbing his thumb so gently on the head, no harder even when Jongin’s hips arch into the feeling, “but this is better for me. I don’t wanna be mean again for a long time. Is that okay?”

Jongin nods. His eyelids are heavy. This feels better for him, too, like all the jagged feelings that made him want Kyungsoo to be mean are, even if only for a moment, soothed.

“Should I let go when you come?” Jongin nods. “Will you want me to stop fucking you?”

“No,” Jongin says, pulling Kyungsoo in around the neck to kiss again. “You promised to fill me up. You have to keep it.”

“Okay,” Kyungsoo smiles. Then, after a beat, his bruised mouth pressed to Jongin’s, he says, “I love you. You don’t have to sa—“

Jongin breathes in deeply through his nose. His pulse is crazy. “I love you.”

“Yeah?” Kyungsoo asks, grinning. “You wanna come for me?”

Jongin nods, and then says, “yeah,” beck, and then nods again, almost senseless even as his senses go into overdrive when Kyungsoo tightens his palm around Jongin’s dick and his thrusts get sloppy, desperate, like Jongin admitting he still loves him is enough to bring him right there. Jongin comes into Kyungsoo’s palm as he pants and whines into his mouth, tongue heavy and face warm, body too hot, his mind empty of everything but this expansive, consuming pleasure, the way it feels endless as Kyungsoo keeps fucking him through it, Jongin’s cunt tight and stuffed and clutching franctically around Kyungsoo’s dick. Jongin is a bit nonverbal when Kyungsoo makes him come, like his brain can’t fathom how to make sense of how someone can make him feel this good, this much, and all he can barely manage is breathing when he finally begins to come down from it.

“Fuck,” Kyungsoo moans, using his free hand to play with Jongin’s tits as he buries his face in Jongin’s neck and fucks him without measure or control. “Oh, fuck, God, that’s—“ Jongin can’t help tightening around him in the aftershocks, whimpering as Kyungsoo just keeps using him.

“Oh, God, your pussy is—“ Kyungsoo lets go of Jongin’s cock and uses that hand to grope Jongin’s soft inner thigh and push his knees up, spread his shaking thighs wide so that Kyungsoo can slip that much deeper inside, his fat cock the only thing that Jongin can concentrate on. Jongin’s dick can’t even go fully soft, still a little chubbed up as Kyungsoo doesn’t stop taking him, harder and faster with every messy shove forward. Kyungsoo is leaned back enough that he can stare with hungry eyes and heavy breaths where his cock pushes in and pulls out of Jongin. Once, he gets too eager and slips fully out of Jongin’s hole, and the way his big hand scrambles to press his cock back inside with a low grunt makes Jongin’s breath catch.

Jongin‘s hole gets so sensitive after he comes, and lately it hasn’t mattered since the other men who fuck him always come first. Kyungsoo, though—he just doesn’t stop, just keeps fucking Jongin through Jongin’s whines, his sore cunt gripping Kyungsoo’s cock with every fuck in.

“God, baby,” Kyungsoo breathes. “How are you even tighter? How is that even—“ and when Jongin shoves two fingers into his mouth to bite down on around the sparks racing down his legs, Kyungsoo groans and quickly replaces them with his soft mouth, bodies pressed so close once more. “Baby,” he repeats, “baby.”

“You gonna come in me?” Jongin asks, lips quirking up when Kyungsoo pushes his knee further up. “You gonna get me wetter?”

“Jesus,” Kyungsoo swears. “Oh, shit—” and Jongin feels the swell, the rush of blood right before Kyungsoo groans, long, wounded, and spurts seed deep inside, fucking Jongin through that high, until his dick starts softening and Jongin can hear the wet fuck of his hole even over the background noise of the party. Kyungsoo pants into Jongin’s mouth as he comes down, loosening his grip on Jongin’s thigh and letting his legs fall loosely around his waist as he jerks forward and releases more come into Jongin through the aftershocks; Kyungsoo comes so much, and it’s intoxicating every time, has Jongin feeling hazy and content, so much so that he almost doesn’t hear Kyungsoo murmur, “God, I still wanna get married to you,” but he does hear it, he hears every word of it, and it makes his languid heartbeat spark.

“What?” Jongin says, leaning back into the pillow under his head so that he can see all of Kyungsoo’s face, see his eyes. “What?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes widen. “Fuck, I’m—I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, it was just—do you want me to pull out?”

Jongin really, really doesn’t want him to, and he knows Kyungso feels the same, but there are more urgent things than what they want; there always have been in their relationship. Fuck. This is his fucking ex. They don’t have a relationship. “I should,” Jongin says. “I don’t know.”

“Then I’m gonna,” Kyungsoo says, and, yeah, pulls out of Jongin, and it’s kind of terrible. Kyungsoo turns onto his back next to Jongin, and they both breathe.

After a while, pulsing R&B floating from downstairs, Jongin says, “what did you mean by that?”

Jongin hears Kyungsoo swallow. “What answer do you want me to give?” When Jongin doesn’t say anything, Kyungsoo sighs and says, “I meant exactly what I said, but I’m sorry for putting that on you. I don’t expect you to feel the same way, or to—”

“Don’t assume how I feel,” Jongin says.

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo says, a little wounded, different from before.

“How was Japan?”

Kyungsoo hesitates, and Jongin knows he’s hesitating because he watched the short films Kyungsoo made and directed while abroad, he saw the reception and the awards and the funding he got to make more. Kyungsoo came back this semester, two months back and shining through their overlapping circle of friends, but Jongin knows that if Kyungsoo wanted to, he could do his post-grad in Tokyo like he wanted and have the resources to thrive.

“You can say it’s good,” Jongin says. Ugh, he should’ve drank more and been as shitfaced as Junmyeon expected. Kyungsoo was right earlier, though—Jongin did know he was coming to this party, especially with Yixing and Sehun’s thinly-veiled hints and Minseok directly telling him, and he knew Kyungsoo wouldn’t fuck him if they were wasted. It was a long dance, circling around the room and pretending Kyungsoo wasn’t always in his line of sight, pretending that he didn’t see Kyungsoo watching him and pointedly drinking from a water bottle until Jongin went and did the same, pretending he couldn’t feel the burn of Kyungsoo’s stare on his throat, his mouth, the expanse of skin where his shirt rode up. The party is quieter now, like all the rowdiest people went home or found somewhere else to trash, and the music reflects that shift. Probably only their friends are left, and Jongin knows that just means their absence is felt and acknowledged.

“It was good,” Kyungsoo finally says, “but it wasn’t—”

“Don’t lie,” Jongin says. He doesn’t want to hear how Kyungsoo’s earlier declaration threads through to what Japan wasn’t.

“Have I ever lied to you?” Kyungsoo asks, and Jongin does want to kiss him, never stopped wanting to kiss him. Kyungsoo doesn’t lie to him. At times, he is too honest. At times, that’s the issue. Jongin doesn’t respond. Kyungsoo says, “I’ve been speaking to the director of film studies at Yonsei. They want me there.” He pauses. “Been emailing the director at Korea.”

“The program at Tokyo is unparalleled,” Jongin says. His heartbeat rises and falls. “You wanted Tokyo.”

“I want you,” Kyungsoo tells him. The bed shifts as Kyungsoo turns onto his side to face Jongin, and it kills Jongin, that Kyungsoo can look at him and see him and know what he wants to hear and not lie to him and say he wants Jongin and loves Jongin and still wants to get married to him. Who says that? How does Kyungsoo say those things without feeling like he’s putting himself out to ruin? It didn’t always feel like ruin, but they stopped saying they loved each other those last few months, and whenever Jongin tried, something heavy swelled in his throat, like he’d give something of himself up in that honesty. It didn’t feel like he was giving something up earlier, when he admitted to his ex-fiance that he loved him. “Do you still want me?”

Jongin almost laughs. He turns to face Kyungsoo, too, their bodies curved towards each other. “I don’t want you to think, five, fifteen years down, that you settled.”

“I won’t,” Kyungsoo says, and he sounds so sure that Jongin needs to believe him. “I’ve been without you. I’m without you now. It’s not—anything else would be settling.” He places his hand on Jongin’s waist, right above the hem of the skirt.

“I wore this for you,” Jongin admits.

Kyungsoo smiles, and his eyes are so dark and big. Jongin hates cliches as much as any lit major, but he really does get lost in them. “I know.”

“I still have my ring,” Jongin admits, and he doesn’t lose any of himself in the process. “And I still want—that. Too.”

“Yeah?” Kyungsoo asks roughly.

Jongin nods, and gets close enough that the soft parts of their bodies touch. “Yeah.”


“Here,” Kyungsoo says, handing Jongin his flannel to put on. That leaves him in just his thermal undershirt. Jongin almost wants to resist, but Kyungsoo twists his swollen mouth and raises his eyebrows, and Jongin takes the shirt. It’s big on Kyungsoo, so it’s a comfortable fit, and infinitely warmer. Kyungsoo steps close so he can do the buttons, and the way his eyelashes look makes Jongin’s breath hitch. Kyungsoo doesn’t look up from the buttons, but his lips quirk up.

“I want a spring wedding,” says Jongin. Kyungsoo kisses him so long and hard they almost topple over. At Minseok’s Halloween party, Jongin sees a future with his ex boyfriend.