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san @ wooyoung (8.23pm)
r u done shopping yet
where r uuuuu :(
hurry uppppp im bored
miss u
hellooooo its been 30 mins come back rn

San drops his phone against the mattress, rolling on his side and sighing. He’s definitely being a clingy bitch, but he can’t quite convince himself to stop when now that it’s allowed; now he can text his boyfriend and ask him when he’ll be back so that they can have dinner together.

His phone keeps vibrating with messages from the groupchat, but he’s not in the mood to deal with their inquisition right now, but he ignores them and opens Instagram instead.

yunho @ san is the fucking worst and we all hate him
san im seriously coming over to ur dorm room
like right now
unless u tell us wtf is going on
stupd annoying dickhead

ditto on that
san i’ll kick ur ass

i cant believe he’d leave us on read
after everything we’ve done for him

yes like the time we got them to do a bodyshot

haha that was so funny

we’re geniuses

San’s halfway down his Instagram feed, still resolutely ignoring the near constant stream of texts, but then he decides that maybe he feels a little bad for not at least giving some explanation after the amount of times his friends had needed to comfort him on what he’d thought were his one-sided feelings.


fucking FINALLY
i hate u so bad

omg hi san
r u gonna explain what’s going on now

u better or else im joining mingi and yunho on their quest to go to ur dorm and kick ur ass

ok so
i kinda confessed haha :p
and then
we made out :3
so turns out my feelings weren’t one-sided after all xD

ok those emojis are fuckin terrifying
but i’ll ignore that in favour of saying

xD <- ME RN


WOW that took u guys AGES


ya hes my bf now





yunho changed the groupchat name to “4 bachelors and san”

love u guys or whatvr
wait gtg he’s back



San doesn’t bother reading the rest of the messages, instead jumping up to open the door. The happy, floaty feeling in his stomach intensifies when he sees Wooyoung standing in the corridor.

“Finally, you’ve been gone for ages,” San says, stepping aside to let Wooyoung into the room. Wooyoung had walked to the nearby grocery store to pick up some ramen and snacks for them to eat; San watches him set the shopping bag down next to the door and kick off his Vans.

“Sorry, I was on the phone with Yeosang,” Wooyoung says. “I’m meeting with him tomorrow to tell him all the details in person about, um, us being officially together now, but I felt like I owed it to him to at least somewhat get him up to speed after the amount of pining he had to put up with from me.”

San exhales a laugh. “God, yeah, same with my friends. I’m already dreading seeing them.”

He kind of wants to tug Wooyoung into a hug, because every touch between them still feels so fresh and he doesn’t think he’ll ever take this for granted. Maybe that’s a by-product of finally getting together after pining so intensely for such a long time. San would ask someone, but he doesn’t think he knows anyone quite as stubbornly oblivious as him and Wooyoung that he could use as a point of reference.

Wooyoung is already reaching out towards him, wrapping his arms around San’s shoulders and pressing a soft kiss against his lips. It fills San with another rush of happiness, the ‘this is real, this is your life now’ kind that makes it hard to stop smiling.

After a moment, Wooyoung draws away, turning to pull two plastic ramen packages out of the bag. “I’m gonna shower,” he says, handing the ramen to San. “Can you boil some water for these in the meantime?”

“Yeah, sure,” San replies, instinctively reaching to grab a towel from his closet and passing it to Wooyoung. “Let’s watch One Piece when you’re done.”

“Okay,” Wooyoung smiles, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door.

And, really, when San’s friends inevitably make fun of him tomorrow for being the most whipped fucker on the planet, he won’t even be able to defend himself because it’s true. But he’s also never been happier, so there’s that. And life is kinda fucking awesome right now.

By the time Wooyoung’s done showering and drying up, San has set up the laptop with one of their favourite One Piece episodes – Wooyoung’s seen it at least four times, but he’s not complaining – and finished preparing the ramen as well as some leftover broccoli he’d found in the fridge.

“Eating healthy is important,” San says pointedly when he catches sight of Wooyoung’s apprehensive gaze.

“Are you sure the broccoli isn’t out of date?” Wooyoung asks, just to tease him.

San makes an indignant sound. “How dare you. Of course I’m sure.”

The broccoli tastes surprisingly good, or maybe Wooyoung’s just super hungry. They sit on the bed to eat, which is probably gross, but San had warned Wooyoung that he’d kick him out if he spilled anything.

Wooyoung’s eyes are on the One Piece episode playing on the laptop, but really he’s not paying much attention, too distracted by the way the light off the screen illuminates San’s face. When they’re done eating and the food is no longer in their way, San wraps an arm around him and draws him against his side, the space between them quickly disappearing.

There’s a certain tension in the air, and Wooyoung can tell San’s equally aware of it by the way his touch lingers along the bare skin of Wooyoung’s arm, the unfocused look in his eyes that indicates he’s paying as little attention to the episode as Wooyoung. He smells good, like coffee and shampoo and something that Wooyoung doesn’t know how to describe but is as familiar to him as everything else about San.

As much as Wooyoung loves One Punch and cuddling and the peaceful atmosphere in the room, he’s not been able to stop thinking about how good San’s hands had felt on his body, when he’d been touching him, properly. And he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been anticipating that things would go in a similar direction tonight.

But – even though it’s obvious that San’s clearly not paying attention to One Piece – he doesn’t seem inclined to initiating anything right now, his arm resting almost casually around Wooyoung’s shoulder.

It had been bad enough to keep waiting and never being allowed to touch the way he wanted to when he’d thought his feelings were unrequited, the last thing Wooyoung’s gonna do is continue holding himself back now that he knows they’re on the same page. Especially when the only thing he can focus on is San’s body next to his; the points of contact where he can feel him against his own body.

And he’s still sort of inexperienced, but he’s also impatient, which is what prompts him to put his hand on the inside of San’s thigh, keeping his eyes fixed on the laptop like he isn’t aware of what he’s doing.

It’s almost funny how fast San’s mask of indifference disappears as soon as Wooyoung touches him, his head whipping around to face Wooyoung and his eyes widening. Wooyoung keeps looking at the screen, his hand drifting a little higher to San’s mid-thigh.

He can see San swallow in his peripheral vision, feel the way San’s hand tightens almost imperceptibly on his shoulder. The sound of the laptop still playing the episode has faded to white noise, and Wooyoung’s veins are thrumming with anticipation, the impatience he’d felt all day intensifying.

“What about One Piece?” San asks suddenly; a clear question of ‘are you sure you want this right now?’.

“Fuck One Piece,” Wooyoung says, and, in a move he’d never have thought himself bold enough for, moves his hand right over San’s dick, already a little hard in his jeans.

Shit,” San exhales. They stare at each other for a second, then San is reaching out to slam the laptop shut, setting it down on the floor before pulling Wooyoung against him into a messy kiss.

And, yeah, this was definitely where they both knew the night was going anyway.

Almost immediately, San has his mouth fitted over Wooyoung’s, open and lush. Now that San is kissing him, properly, all hot and wet and filled with intent, Wooyoung’s whole body feels alight. And he clearly wasn’t the only one feeling impatient, both of them getting worked up too fast, tugging at each other like they can’t get close enough.

San gets him in his lap, like in the morning, but this time his touch is more insistent, his hands slipping under Wooyoung’s sweater and pulling him down harder against his body. Wooyoung feels dizzy with how fast his blood is rushing south, making him want to rut against San’s groin, the ache of arousal quickly becoming unbearable.

“Fuck, San. I wanna- I want-” he can’t get the words out, embarrassed.

San mouths along his neck, breath hot on his skin. “Tell me,” he mumbles. “We can do whatever you want, baby.”

Wooyoung’s head drops against San’s shoulder as he groans, hips jolting forward unintentionally. “I like when you call me that,”

He can heart the amusement in San’s voice. “I’ve noticed.”

San’s hands come to rest on Wooyoung’s waist, guiding his hips forward as he grinds his hardening cock against Wooyoung’s. The pressure shoots a jolt of heat through him, and Wooyoung pants against San’s shoulder as San’s hands move to grip his ass instead, their bodies grinding together more urgently.

The hickey is still visible on San’s neck, and Wooyoung licks along the skin, feeling San’s hands tighten on his body in response. All the primal urges he’d felt the last time are returning in full force; the way he wants San to kiss him until his lips hurt, touch him hard enough to leave a bruise, throw him against a fucking wall. He scrapes his teeth along the mark, and San gives a stuttered groan in response, hips kicking up against Wooyoung.

Everything is so overwhelming, feels so good, and Wooyoung forgets subtlety and his earlier reservations as he blurts, “I wanna have sex. With you. I want us to have sex.”

San freezes for a second, motions stilling, before he leans back to stare at Wooyoung. “What?”

Wooyoung can feel the blood rushing to his cheeks, but he keeps his eyes locked with San’s as he repeats, “I want us to have sex. If you want to.”

“If I want to?” San exhales disbelievingly. “I’ve been dreaming about that for fucking years. But-” he pauses, eyes searching Wooyoung’s face. “But I need to know that you’re totally sure. The last thing I’d want is to risk screwing up anything between us.”

“I’m sure,” Wooyoung says immediately. “I trust you more than anyone, and I-” he ducks his head, shy, “I just really want you.”

San’s hands rub along Wooyoung’s back, pulling him more firmly against his chest. “Fuck. Yeah, okay, if you’re sure.”

Wooyoung’s heart feels like it’s expanding in his chest, warm affection filling him. “I am,” he whispers.

San kisses him again, and Wooyoung melts against him, opening his mouth and leaning into the kiss as it deepens from almost aggressively lustful to something that feels more meaningful, hot with the passion of two people who have wanted each other for so long. Wooyoung’s hands slide up under San’s shirt, palming at the hot skin and ridges of his spine.

San breaks away for a second to tug his shirt off, and Wooyoung follows suit, letting it drop to the floor beside them as San pulls him against his body with more urgency. The kiss grows even deeper, messier, with San pushing his tongue against Wooyoung’s and groaning against his lips when Wooyoung grinds down against him again.

Wooyoung can’t help his own little noises that slip out, the pressure delicious against his hard cock but still not enough. He can’t get enough of the feeling of San’s hands on him, has some fucked up need for San to grip him so tight it hurts, the years of sexual frustration building up into this messy, erratic, sloppy kiss as they rut against each other like horny teenagers.

And really, Wooyoung just needs San’s dick inside him, like, right now.

“How do you wanna do it?” Wooyoung asks, pulling back to get the words out between his heavy breaths.

San blinks at him, eyes unfocused and dazed. “What do you mean?”

It’s only because he’s with San that Wooyoung is able to force the words out, cheeks heating up. “Sex. Um. Who’s going to- uh, you know.”

“You mean who’s going to bottom?” San asks, and Wooyoung nods, covering his face with his hands in mortification. San gently pulls them away, cupping Wooyoung’s cheeks with his own hands and stroking along the burning skin. “Don’t be embarrassed. I can, if that’s what you want.”

Wooyoung looks at him in surprise. He’s imagined it both ways, naturally, and hadn’t wanted to assume, but he’d kind of thought that… Well.

“I thought you’d want to fuck me,” he blurts out.

San makes a choked sound. “How the fuck do you go from being too embarrassed talk about sex to saying shit like that?”

Wooyoung feels like his face is radiating heat like a frying pan. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“Of course I wanna fuck you,” San says like it should be obvious, and the words send a tingle down Wooyoung’s spine. “but I want you to be comfortable. I don’t care how we do it as long as you’re happy. I want your first time to be something good and memorable.”

“It’s going to be good and memorable regardless, because I’m with you.”

San’s eyes are fond as he runs a finger along the hot skin of Wooyoung’s cheeks. “Seriously, just tell me what you want, and we can do that.”

Wooyoung’s entire body feels like he’s burning from the inside, part mortification, part desire and affection. The emotions churn in his stomach, but he manages to force words out, “I kinda want- I’d like to try- can you top?”

San’s hand stills. “That’s what you’d like?”

It’s what Wooyoung had spent many nights thinking about, alone in his room. Even before the first time they’d kissed, back when he’d had no idea how good San could make him feel, how he’d know exactly how to play Wooyoung’s body like an instrument. And it’s what his body is craving right now; to feel San inside him and be as close as physically possible.


“Fuck,” San says, a half-groan. “Okay, fuck, let’s do that.”

Wooyoung leans down to connect their lips again, excitement and anticipation mixing with the nervousness in his stomach. He can feel San’s heart pounding against his bare chest, knows his own pulse is equally fast.

“Are you really sure about this?” San asks breathlessly, breaking the kiss and leaning back a little. “It’s not too soon?”

“How could it be too soon when we’ve been in love with each other for god knows how long? And yes, I’m sure,” Wooyoung’s skin is hot with embarrassment, but San’s gentle hands stroking along his back make it easier to get the words out. “I bought lube and condoms, earlier, when I went to pick up the ramen.”

“You- what?”

Wooyoung doesn’t bother repeating his sentence, too preoccupied with the feeling of San’s body against his. He needs San to know that he wants this, badly; that he’s been waiting for this moment for far longer than San probably realises. Instead of replying, he tugs San’s head upwards, kissing him deeply and letting out a soft, pleased sound when San’s hands move to rest on his waist again.

He’s quickly distracted by the vague shape of San’s cock through his jeans, grinds down against it again. San gives a gritted moan, head falling against Wooyoung’s shoulder as he pulls Wooyoung harder against his lap.

“W-where did you put the lube and condoms?” San asks, voice rough.

“Grocery bag.”

Neither of them move to get them, reluctant to stop the little jolts of pleasure every time Wooyoung rolls his hips down. It’s only the prospect of having sex with San that allows Wooyoung to eventually pull himself away, quickly becoming aware of how embarrassingly hard he is already by the way his dick strains against his jeans as he grabs the two boxes in question from the bag beside the bed and chucks them onto the mattress.

“Have you ever, um, tried it before?” San asks, picking up the lube. “Like, fingering yourself?”

“No.” Wooyoung knows he’s blushing.

San glances at him, surprised. “Really?”

“Have you?”

“Well, yeah,” San says, far more nonchalant confessing that than Wooyoung would be in his place. “Once or twice.”

Wooyoung blinks at him, a jolt of heat shooting through his stomach at the thought as he resolves to pursue that avenue further in the future. But then San is leaning towards him, reaching out a hand to brush along his cheek and pulling him into another kiss.

Wooyoung’s blood feels hot with need as San gets increasingly absorbed in the kiss, dizzy with the way he grips Wooyoung’s body more tightly and pants harder against his lips, both of them tugging at each other to get as close as possible. And he’s so hard it’s getting unbearable, his cock straining against his jeans in a way that almost hurts.

“Take your pants off,” San says, breathing heavily.

“You take my pants off for me,” Wooyoung replies, half to tease San and half because he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous.

San rolls his eyes and Wooyoung laughs a little, more at ease with the reminder that this is San, that there’s nothing he needs to worry about. He tries his best not to shy away as he lifts his hips to help San pull down his jeans and underwear. San had seen him naked yesterday, but it still feels embarrassing, although it’s hard to think about that too much when San is watching him like he’s the most precious thing in the world.

“Is this okay?” San asks, leaning back to pick up the bottle of lube.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung says, letting San gently press his legs apart, mortification mixing with arousal in his stomach.

San snaps open the bottle of lube, eyes locked with Wooyoung’s as he coats his index finger with the clear liquid. The contrast of the familiarity and unfamiliarity is making Wooyoung’s head spin; San’s face is reassuring and familiar, but the feeling of his finger as he presses up against Wooyoung is anything but.

“I’m not really sure how to do this,” San says quietly, voice shaky.

Somehow, seeing San’s nervousness shine through is calming, and Wooyoung feels more relaxed as he murmurs, “It’s okay, we’ll figure it out.”

It feels weird, being touched so intimately, even though San makes no effort to push in, instead gently teasing his finger along Wooyoung’s rim. “Fuck, you look so good like this,” San whispers, breath hot against Wooyoung’s neck.

The words shoot a jolt of arousal through Wooyoung, a tiny, embarrassing whine slipping out of his throat. The gentle movement of San’s finger is setting his nerves alight and he’s starting to enjoy the pressure, starting to crave more.

San seems to know exactly what he needs. “Can I?”

Wooyoung nods, and then inhales sharply when he feels San’s finger slide in slowly, slipping past his rim with relatively little resistance thanks to the lube.

“Jesus, fuck, you’re so tight,” San mumbles, and the tone of his voice makes Wooyoung shudder. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung manages to say, overwhelmed. There’s a slight pinch with the unfamiliarity of San’s finger inside him, but it’s not as bad as he was expecting.

“Relax,” San murmurs, kissing along his jaw. “Can you do that for me?”

Wooyoung hums, although it comes out more as a breathy moan. It feels strange, not entirely unpleasant but also not good, but the way San’s looking at him is making his mind hazy as he allows his body to relax against the sheets.

San starts moving his finger in and out at an almost excruciatingly slow pace, the pad of it dragging along his walls. Despite what he’d said about not knowing what he’s doing, he’s proving to be very good at this, the pressure turning into something better as he slowly works Wooyoung’s body open.

“Tell me how you feel,” San murmurs, as though the little whimpers that Wooyoung can’t hold back aren’t indicator enough.

“F-feels good,” Wooyoung says, voice breathy. “You can add another.”


Wooyoung nods, reminding himself to breathe as San grabs the lube bottle again, squeezing out more of the liquid. This time, the pain is more obvious as San slides his fingers in, even though his movements are slow and careful. But then San’s kissing along his jaw, his other hand gripping Wooyoung’s cock, wet with lube, and Wooyoung lets out a low groan as his hands flex against the sheets.

“You have no idea how many times I imagined this,” San says against his neck, his hot breath making goosebumps rise along Wooyoung’s skin.

Wooyoung had imagined it too, even dreamed about it on more than a few occasions, but before he can say that, San crooks his fingers just right inside him and the words come out a garbled moan.

“There?” San asks, repeating the motion.

Fuck,” Wooyoung groans by way of response, torn between fucking down against San’s fingers or up into his fist.

The pain is easy to ignore now, everything just feels so overwhelmingly good, San’s fingers opening him up so nicely, brushing against Wooyoung’s prostate with just the right amount of pressure.

Wooyoung lets out a pathetic little mmh, and he’s fighting a losing battle to hold in the increasingly loud, needy sounds threatening to escape from his throat. Then San’s hips jerk forward, his hard cock rubbing along Wooyoung’s thigh like he can’t hold himself still, and Wooyoung doesn’t bother holding back his whimper.

Hngh- so good, San, that’s so good, holy shit,” his hands clench against the sheets, head digging into the pillow.

“God, fuck, you’re so hot.”

“You’re- ah, that’s really- fuck-” Wooyoung doesn’t even know what he’s trying to say, increasingly falling apart under San’s hands. It’s not just the overwhelming physical sensations, but also the look on San’s face as he works his fingers in and out of Wooyoung’s body at a steady pace. “Give me three,” he pants, not caring if he’s being too demanding.

“Shit, Wooyoung,” San says, voice thick, quick to accommodate his request as he grabs the lube bottle again before gently easing three fingers into his body. “You’re driving me insane. I’m- shit. I’m gonna fuck you so good.”

Wooyoung groans, arching off the bed and grabbing onto San’s shoulders, fingers digging into the skin as he tries to ground himself. The burning stretch is easy to ignore in favour of the warm, numbing shocks of pleasure enveloping his entire body. In some sick way, the pain makes it better, everything completely overwhelming and incomparable to anything he’s ever experienced.

And then San leans down and licks at Wooyoung’s nipple, the feeling sending a jolt of heat through his body that makes Wooyoung arch up against San, which slightly repositions the way San’s fingers are angled inside him. The noise Wooyoung lets out is embarrassingly wrecked, but San just takes it as encouragement to trace the other nipple with his mouth, every brush of his tongue sending Wooyoung closer to the edge.

When he feels like he can’t wait any longer, cock heavy and body trembling with the effort of holding himself back from coming, he stutters out, “F-fuck. Fuck me, please, I want it now, please, fuck-”

“Okay, I got you, I-” San cuts off with an almost pained groan as Wooyoung reaches down clumsily to rub his cock from above his jeans.

Wooyoung momentarily feels bad for him because there’s no way that wasn’t uncomfortable, San’s cock straining against the material, but it’s hard to think too much about that when San’s unzipping his jeans and kicking them off, grabbing the box of condoms and tearing the box open. He can’t stop himself from staring, at San’s well-defined torso flushed in the dim lighting of the room, the damp spot on his boxers from where he’d been leaking precome. And then San’s pushing his underwear down and letting it drop to the floor, and Wooyoung is dizzy with arousal, needs San’s cock inside him now.

San leans over him, sliding a condom on with ease as Wooyoung wraps his arms around San’s shoulders, and everything about this moment is better than Wooyoung had been able to imagine. “I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you, so much,” San catches his lips in another kiss. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung says, feeling another jolt of nervousness shoot through him despite how much he knows he wants this.

San starts pushing in slowly, breath hot against Wooyoung’s skin and everything is overwhelming except now it’s not in a good way, all the mild pain from before intensifying tenfold and Wooyoung can’t help his small pained gasp because holy fucking shit that really hurts.

San immediately stops moving. “What’s wrong?” he asks, voice unsteady and Wooyoung can feel that his arms are shaking with the effort of holding himself still.

“Hurts,” Wooyoung whispers, words forced out over the searing pain in his ass. “Just a little.” Not just a little. “Keep going, maybe it’ll go away in a second.”

San shakes his head, hair brushing against Wooyoung’s cheek. “Try to relax as much as you can, I’m gonna pull out.”

Wooyoung half wants to protest because it would be horrifically anticlimactic if they don’t have sex after everything, but this also really fucking hurts and it would be a lie to say he isn’t relieved at the prospect of the pain stopping.

“Okay,” he says, trying unsuccessfully to get his body to unclench.

“Relax,” San says again, the words murmured against Wooyoung’s neck. He sucks a mark into the skin, Wooyoung whimpering as San licks along the bruise. And then San pulls out entirely, and Wooyoung gives a pained groan at the burning pain as well as the horrible emptiness that follows.

“Well, this sucks,” he mumbles, mind finally able to catch up with the situation now that he’s not in overwhelming pleasure or pain.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” San says with a small laugh. “You know it’s fine if we don’t have sex today, right? We can always try again a different time.”

“But I want to have sex today,” Wooyoung says, pouting slightly as he pushes himself up on his elbows to look San in the eye.

San pauses for a moment. “I mean, we can try it differently.”

“What do you mean?”

“It might be a little easier for you if, um,” San’s cheeks are adorably flushed, and it fills Wooyoung with a rush of affection. “If you get on your knees.”

Wooyoung opens his mouth, then closes it again. There’s something stupidly sexy about the idea of offering himself up to San like that, making the arousal that had diminished a little return in full force. “Yeah, let’s try that,” he says, voice embarrassingly breathy.

Maybe Wooyoung is more of a masochist than he’d ever realised, because there’s something about the mortification of getting on all fours that makes it even hotter, blood rushing through his body as he hears San mumble a soft “fuck.”

There’s the sound of the lube bottle opening and closing, and Wooyoung shudders as San’s fingers slip inside him again, without pain this time. His hands fist into the sheets as San starts steadily moving his fingers, starting with two and quickly adding a third when Wooyoung whines at him to go faster.

“Gotta be patient,” San says, the roughness of his voice sending shivers down Wooyoung’s spine. “I don’t want to hurt you again, baby.”

Wooyoung makes a needy sound as San brushes against his prostate, crooking his fingers perfectly to send a numbing wave of pleasure through his entire body. “San,” he moans helplessly, trying to stop himself from pushing back against San’s fingers.

He has no idea how San has the patience to continue stretching him out for what feels like hours, his ability to process time quickly deteriorating as his mind becomes unable to register anything except how fucking deep San’s fingers get, how good it feels, even though it’s still not enough. He wants more. His knees have slid farther apart on the bed, spreading himself for San to open him up easier.

“Please,” he mumbles, tempted to beg San to fuck him before he dies from being teased to the edge too many times, only to be brought right back down. San seems to be able to read every reaction he gives, every whimper, always knowing when to move faster and when to slow down to stop him from getting too close.

“Do you feel ready?” San asks, and Wooyoung makes a breathless noise of affirmation, too dazed to form a coherent sentence.

Wooyoung feels San pull his fingers out, half able to register the crinkling of a new condom wrapper and the sound of the lube bottle being snapped open. And then San’s got his hands around his hips and he lets out a soft, pleased moan as San jostles him into position, gentle but with enough force to show how riled up he is.

“Go, now, please,” Wooyoung manages to say, dropping his forehead to rest against the pillow.

“Fuck, okay,” San says, breathing heavily as he tightens his grip around Wooyoung and pushes in. Wooyoung grips the sheets, clenching and relaxing around San’s cock as San notches his hips forward slowly.

San leans down, chest against Wooyoung’s sweaty back, kissing his shoulder. “You’re doing so well,” he murmurs into Wooyoung’s ear, breath hot, making him shiver and melt further into the bed. “So good for me.”

Wooyoung groans, lightheaded and borderline delirious, body becoming more relaxed and pliant and allowing San to slide in deeper. He’s struggling to keep his eyes open, to lift his heavy head from the pillow and breathe properly, loud whimpers slipping out of his mouth because he can’t get himself to shut the hell up.

The stretch still hurts, but he’s so distracted by the overwhelming feeling of fullness, by the way San’s chest burns against his back, that he can’t do anything except moan helplessly into the pillow, biting down to stop any more embarrassing noises from escaping.

San’s panting hard, hips stuttering as he shifts forwards slowly. He runs his tongue along Wooyoung’s earlobe, making Wooyoung’s cock twitch as he tugs the flesh between his teeth. “How do you feel?”

“F-fuck, keep going, feels- nngh, feels good,” Wooyoung chokes out, words half muffled.

San threads his hand in Wooyoung’s hair, gently tugging his head up off the pillow and making his back arch. His cock shifts inside Wooyoung with the new angle, and Wooyoung almost sobs with how fucking full he feels.

“Wanna hear you,” San murmurs, and Wooyoung can’t help his loud moan as San eases in the last bit, hips flush against Wooyoung’s. “That’s right, just like that. Fuck, you’re really tight. Fuck.”

“Oh god, San, please-” Wooyoung doesn’t even know what he’s begging for, tightening his fists in the pillow as his back arches more, instinctively trying to get San’s cock against the spot he knows will make him see stars.

“Shit,” San’s voice is strained, hand tightening in Wooyoung’s hair. “Fucking hell, you’re so hot.”

Wooyoung whimpers helplessly, eyes fluttering shut as he adjusts to the feeling of San inside him. Everything is hot and sweaty even as San stays still, whispering words of encouragement in his ear.

“That’s right,” San murmurs. “Just breathe and relax, yeah? You’re doing so well, you feel amazing. So fucking good for me.”

Wooyoung turns his head to look at San, even though he knows he probably looks like a mess. He feels weirdly emotional, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and god that is so embarrassing because he’d never thought he’d be the type to cry as soon as he’s got a dick up his ass.

“Are you okay?” San asks immediately, and his face is close enough that Wooyoung can see beads of sweat along his forehead.

Wooyoung nods, trying to talk through the lump in his throat. “Y-yeah. I just need a second. How do you feel?”

San exhales a laugh, his breath hot against Wooyoung’s neck. “Honestly, I’m just trying really hard not to come already.”

Wooyoung wants to tease him but he’s too overwhelmed by how good San looks like this, sweaty hair hanging in his dark eyes and cheeks flushed with exertion. “Kiss me,” he says instead, voice cracking a little.

San groans, hand tugging Wooyoung’s hair as he pulls him into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. The angle isn’t the best and Wooyoung’s neck hurts as he turns his head further back to deepen the kiss, but he’ll really need to self-reflect on his potential masochistic tendencies, because there’s something about the mix of pleasure and pain that’s so hot it makes the blood rush in his ears; something about the vulnerability of being completely intertwined with San in the most intimate way possible that makes his head spin.

“San, move, I’m ready, please-” Wooyoung gasps against San’s lips, words cut off by a moan as San grinds his hips forward slowly, letting go of Wooyoung’s hair to grip his waist. “Y-yeah, keep going, do that again,”

“Shit, Wooyoung,” San’s hands tighten, fingers digging into Wooyoung’s skin. “You’re so- fuck.”

Wooyoung whimpers as San starts moving properly, giving him careful, shallow thrusts. His hands grip the pillow, putting a strain on his arms as he struggles to support his upper body, breath coming out in sharp pants.

“Go harder- fuck. Please, want more,” Wooyoung manages to say when the shallow thrusting borders on unbearable, feeling shaky and needy and wanting San to just fucking ruin him.

San groans, snapping his hips into Wooyoung with more intent, erratic and sexy and deep. The room is swelteringly hot, sweat dripping down Wooyoung’s neck as he struggles to hold himself up and not collapse onto the bed. His fingernails dig into his palms, arms tense and shaking as he struggles to support his weight.

“San, hngh- shit,” Wooyoung knows he must sound destroyed, moans slipping out between words as San continues fucking him open, finding a solid rhythm. “That’s, ah, good- feels so- fuck.”

“Yeah?” San asks, wrecked. “I’m making you feel good?”

“So good, feels amazing,” Wooyoung’s voice cracks again, his throat dry.

He drops his face against the pillow, then San presses his back down so that his chest is against the sheets. Wooyoung nearly sobs when he feels San’s cock drive directly against his prostate, moaning into the pillow. It’s impossible to think, with San fucking him so well, whispering praises into his ear and pressing open-mouthed kisses to the side of his neck.

“You’re shaking,” San mumbles, the words barely registering in Wooyoung’s hazy mind.

He realises that his arms are trembling, shaking with the effort of holding himself still and not collapsing further against the sheets. “It’s good,” he says, tongue heavy, the words slurred against the pillow.

And it is, with San fucking him so deep, the all-consuming pleasure and the sounds of San’s soft groans. Wooyoung vaguely registers that his whimpers from earlier have developed into long, drawn-out moans every time San thrusts into him, too overwhelmed to focus on keeping himself quiet. The sounds seem to be unravelling San too, making him thrust deeper and more unevenly, hands digging into Wooyoung’s hips so hard that it might leave a mark.

It’s probably more for Wooyoung’s benefit when San says, “Shh, baby, you have to keep it down a little or everyone in the corridor is gonna hear us,” because Wooyoung knows San couldn’t care less about that kind of thing

But Wooyoung doesn’t care either. In fact, there’s something so dirty about that, about the idea of people walking past his room and being able to guess what’s going on inside, a thrilled shudder running down Wooyoung’s spine at the prospect. His hands tighten in the sheets, groaning when San adjusts the angle slightly as he leans forward, chest against Wooyoung’s back, sweaty and hot. “Not my problem,” he grits between clenched teeth.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” San snarls against his ear. “You like that, yeah? Want everyone to know how good I’m fucking you?”

Wooyoung sobs, arms flexing as San fucks into him even harder, seeming to lose the final grasps of his self-control that had allowed him to keep an even, steady pace. He almost relishes in the fact that he can drive San to this, make him sound so beautifully wrecked and take him apart with nothing but his body, after all the time he’d spent thinking his feelings would be unrequited.

There’s a certain heat pooling in his abdomen, more intense than any wave of pleasure he’s ever experienced. Wooyoung’s breath comes out in short pants between his moans as his hands clench into the sheets, the pleasure completely overwhelming. “Fuck, oh- I think, hngh, I think I’m c-close,” he chokes out, nearly incoherent.

San reaches to wrap a hand around Wooyoung’s cock, jerking him off with messy strokes, his hips stuttering. “I love you,” he mumbles against Wooyoung’s neck.

Fuck. I love you. I love you,” Wooyoung can’t stop repeating the words as he feels his body approach the edge, blood rushing in his ears and thighs shaking.

“Shit, baby. That’s right, come for me,” San grits, and Wooyoung does: every single muscle in his body locks up and, gasping for air, he comes so fucking hard that he almost blacks out.

He shudders as he feels San bury his face against the back of his neck, hair brushing the sweaty skin, his hands grabbing onto Wooyoung’s hips and pulling him against the curve of his body as he gives a last few broken thrusts.

“Come inside me,” Wooyoung pants against the pillow, and San makes a sound like he’s dying.

“F-fuck, I’m coming,” San groans, then goes still, groaning with his cock still inside Wooyoung, panting as his own orgasm washes through him, leaving both of them shaking.

“Wow,” Wooyoung whispers, exhausted but satiated. His brain feels sluggish, muscles sore, but he’s so happy he could cry.

San hums in agreement, gently pulling out as Wooyoung collapses against the bed, too spent to be bothered with the gross stickiness. He doesn’t think he’ll ever stop trembling after that, body still shuddering with aftershocks of his orgasm.

“We did the coming-in-sync thing again,” Wooyoung mumbles.

San makes an amused sound as he drops the used condom into the trash, then curls up next to Wooyoung, clingy as ever, pressing kisses along his shoulder. “That’s mostly because I wouldn’t have lasted another second.”

“Next time you should come inside me without a condom,” Wooyoung says, tongue loose and eyes slipping shut.

“Jesus Christ,” San replies, incredulous, as he wraps his arms around Wooyoung’s body and snuggles up against his side. “Okay, sure, I’d be honoured.”

Wooyoung feels ready to drift off to sleep, but after a few blissfully happy minutes of cuddling, San manages to convince him to take a quick shower together. Then, because they’re lazy and gross and tired, they decide to just crash in Wooyoung’s bed instead of bothering to change San’s sheets.

“We can just change them tomorrow,” Wooyoung points out. “I mean, what’s the point in having two rooms in the same corridor if we don’t take advantage of that during times like this?”

“It’s the logical course of action,” San says in agreement, quickly collecting their phones and keys to bring with them.

Wooyoung, embarrassingly, has to pretend he isn’t limping slightly as they make the short walk to his room, but San – obviously – picks up on it immediately, his expression a combination of smug and concerned.

“You feel okay, right? No regrets about anything?”

“I feel fine. Fantastic, actually. And I will punch you in the face if you ask me whether I regret anything between us again,” Wooyoung tells him, unlocking the door to his room and stepping inside.

“Just making sure,” San says, following him inside and wrapping an arm around his waist.

Now that the initial exhaustion has somewhat worn off, there’s just a deep feeling of contentment that makes Wooyoung sink into the sheets and pull San down against him, wrapping his arms around him and nuzzling his face into his neck.

“I won’t be able to make fun of you for being the clingy one at this rate,” he mumbles.

San laughs, tucking the blanket over them and pressing a few soft kisses along Wooyoung’s shoulder. “You can say whatever you want as long as I get to keep cuddling you,” he says.

“I guess that could be arranged.” Wooyoung’s eyes are drifting shut, and all he can think is how great his life is now that he can fall asleep in San’s arms.