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The pipe outside Seonghwa’s bedroom window is just a little busted, enough to scare him every time it rains. It lets out a steady, hard drum of fat droplets of water against the window sill outside, loud and close enough to worry at him until he checks to see if it’s finally leaking through. It’s at its worst through summer, every night leaves him pulling the curtain back every half hour.

 

San learns this, and uses it to his advantage. 

 

Whenever it storms, San pulls on his boots and his little red waterproof coat, making the ten minute trek to the Park home so he can hop the garden fence and wait in the dark for Seonghwa to notice him. Every time, like clockwork, Seonghwa opens the curtains wide enough to peer down at the grass, squinting and crossing his arms when he spies San barely illuminated by the far, yellowed light of his bedroom, dripping wet and beaming. 

 

Tonight is the same as always, only the rain hammers harder than usual against Seonghwa’s window, until he drags his blue and white armchair to the window, leaving the curtains open and peering out each time he finishes typing a sentence for his thesis. He catches San the moment he tumbles over the fence, already soaked through and shaking, but smiling like he’s made of sunshine when Seonghwa cracks the window open for him to clamber up. 

 

“You need to get an umbrella, one of these days,” Seonghwa scolds him fondly as he traverses, offering his hands to pull San in once he’s half through the window, all but entering with a tuck and roll. “You’re gonna catch your death, go sit by the fire,” he instructs as he closes the window, closing the curtains and glancing back to see San pulling his rain boots off, settling them neatly on the old rug and peeling his coat off, folding it and setting it on top of them. Seonghwa would argue that water will drip in and make the soles wet, but judging by the little footprints San’s socks leave as he crosses the room, it’s already too late. 

 

“I have one,” he says simply, staring at the little space heater and the floor in front of it. “My jeans are wet, hyung, I don’t wanna ruin the carpet.”

 

“Fuck the carpet, get comfy,” Seonghwa nudges at the cushy little beanbag chair, smiling when San purses his lips in thought. “It’s seen worse than your jeans, Sannie. I’ll kick you back out into the rain if you don’t sit,” he teases, closing his laptop and pushing his armchair back to its rightful place in the corner, curling comfortably as San gives in and collapses into the rolling squish of the beanbag. 

 

San’s close enough that he can rest his damp cheek on the arm of the chair, dripping a dark wet patch on the cool patchwork as he closes his eyes. “Thank you,” he says after a while, softening when Seonghwa rests a hand in his hair, stroking in slow movements and grazing his neatly trimmed nails over his scalp. “How’s the paper going?”

 

“It’s not,” Seonghwa sighs, moving to drape his legs over the other arm of the chair, settling to rest in the corner and petting San’s head like one of those big fluffy dogs that live in the house across the street. “Gonna give up for the night, it’s already halfway done by now. And it isn’t due for a while.”

 

It’s a lie, they both know it. Seonghwa’s barely started and the first draft is due in a month, but neither of them care enough to give in and stop... sitting. A familiar ritual, barely making sense beyond the start of the rainfall, but a comforting one for them both. San gets his hair stroked as he dries on Seonghwa’s bedroom floor, Seonghwa gets San’s warm presence. The quiet between them settles like a blanket. 

 

“I’m almost done with coursework,” San hums, Seonghwa can hear the telltale signs in his tone, sleepy and calmed by Seonghwa’s patient hand. “I go to the library to work, it’s easier. Less distractions, weirdly,” he says into the fabric of the chair, nuzzling his face closer against it and sinking further into the beanbag. The rain outside continues to hammer, pattering like reindeer on the roof. “I think I get social pressure about it. I’m super aware that there are other people who probably want me to shut up.”

 

“I’m more distracted at the library, I think,” Seonghwa muses, trailing down to pinch lightly at the tip of San’s ear when he hums. “I get it, though. My parents are out most of the time, and I don’t think my brother’s gonna come home just to annoy me mid-thesis. I’m lucky, I know.”

 

San shudders silently as Seonghwa’s fingers ghost behind his ear, pushing sodden hair out of the way. “It isn’t lucky, it’s nice. What normal should be,” he murmurs, glancing up with glossy eyes as Seonghwa’s gentle touches glide down to his neck, muscle memory guiding him to the sweet faded mark from last week’s heavy rainfall. “Nice and... boring.”

 

Seonghwa laughs softly, nodding and kicking his legs slow and languid. “Boring is good, relaxing. You’re welcome to come and be boring with me any time,” he smiles, stroking down the nape of San’s neck to dip below his shirt. It’s about the only part of him that isn’t sodden, just damp from the steady dripping of his hair. “But you know that already, I hope. Since you hop in so often.”

 

“You aren’t boring, Seonghwa,” San shakes his head, blinking quickly when the action flicks droplets onto his lashes and nose. He says it so earnestly, leaning up to rest his chin over the arm, eyes bright and wide and so kind it feels like Seonghwa’s heart might break. “Not at all. And if you were, you’d be the best kind of boring. Promise.”

 

Careful fingers swipe San’s skin clear, cradling his cheek. “I know what you mean, don’t panic. I’ve been called much worse things than boring, anyway,” Seonghwa teases, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to San’s hair, taking his face in both palms and holding him quietly. “Such a sweetheart, Choi San. So careful with everything but yourself. Do you need me to-”

 

“Yes,” San breathes before Seonghwa can finish, his cheeks warming when Seonghwa laughs smoothly, giggling softly with him. “Yes please, hyung. I like it when you’re careful,” he smiles, half sinking as he shifts to kneel on the beanbag, wincing minutely as it shifts and rolls beneath him. “I like anything when it’s with you…”

 

Seonghwa leans down, pulling him into a slow kiss and stroking his thumbs gently over his cheekbones. “My sweetheart,” he whispers, moving to sit properly in the armchair and pecking San’s lips quickly. “You wanna sit in my lap?”

 

“Still damp,” San huffs softly, pouting when Seonghwa shakes his head a little, snorting and kissing the tip of San’s nose. “I don’t wanna ruin all of your stuff, hyung…”

 

Even as he insists against it, San presses close against the chair, nuzzling his face lightly into Seonghwa’s warm palm. “You won’t ruin a thing, honey,” he says softly, smiling when San chews at his bottom lip. “You don’t have to keep them on, if you’re so worried. I have things you can wear.”

 

By the way San’s cheeks pink up at the offer, it’s a yes. Seonghwa pulls his hands away slowly, standing and making his way to the dresser and finding a pair of pyjama pants for him, soft black and grey cotton. San’s settled back in the beanbag chair, draped over it as he pops the button and fly of his jeans open, pushing them down with about as much grace as a newborn deer, wiggling them off and shaking until the warmth of the heater lessens the shock of cool air. 

 

“Thank you,” San says as Seonghwa offers him the pyjama pants, shimmying them on once he’s successfully slid off the beanbag. He delivers a weak headbutt to Seonghwa’s thigh when he’s close enough, smiling warmly up at him as they both ignore the wet patch it leaves. Seonghwa would offer a towel or a hairdryer, but he selfishly loves watching San’s hair dry slow and naturally, into sweet little curled waves. “I can sit in your lap now, thanks to your big brain.”

 

“My best ideas are inspired by you,” Seonghwa hums as he sits back down, hiding his face when San snorts and cringes at his sentimentality. “Let me be cute! You’re always the cute one, I can try!”

 

“You’re always cute, too,” San insists, dragging himself to drape over Seonghwa’s lap, resting his wet head on Seonghwa’s shoulder and stealing his left hand in both of his own, playing idly with his fingers. “Always so cute, hyung. Letting me be damp all over you.”

 

They share a quiet moment, San’s hands taking turns to interlace with Seonghwa’s own, warming up close to each other, San’s socked feet thumping against the side of the dresser every so often when he kicks his feet. “I think you’re much cuter,” Seonghwa wraps his right arm around San’s waist, pulling him close to tuck him against his own side. He’s still wet, but always warm, his big heart like an internal heater. “The cutest. You wanna stay tonight?”

 

There isn’t much point in asking by now, not when it always ends up that way and San is already in his pyjamas, but it’s always nice to hear. “I wanna stay,” San says gently, glossy and sweet as he gazes up at Seonghwa like he’s made of gold, clasping their hands together one final time and resting them in his lap. “We shouldn’t go to bed yet, though,” he continues, resting his feet on the side of the dresser. It’s fair, it’s still plenty early. “My hair is still wet, hyung. I’ll catch a cold.”

 

“Ah,” Seonghwa nods, “of course, smart boy. We can’t have you getting sick,” he agrees, bouncing his legs a little to settle San closer, glancing slowly over his calm expression, all full of peace and quiet. He loves seeing San in these moments, away from the busy bustle of college, or parties. San is always out, always seen, but rarely so quietly himself . “We should do something until your hair is dry, hm?”

 

San nods, closing his eyes and squeezing Seonghwa’s hand gently, no rush in any action. It’s nice, Seonghwa thinks, to feel like San has a safe place in him, a home to roost from the storm. He’s glad that he can provide any form of softness, especially so intimately. “Painting,” he says softly, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips, growing when Seonghwa hums like he’s considering it. “Monopoly.”

 

“Oh no, not Monopoly. I can stretch to Uno, but that’s about the limit,” Seonghwa hums, squeezing San’s waist lightly and smiling when he snorts out a laugh. “Sannie,” he hums, stroking his thumb over the back of his hand. “can I?”

 

Sweet pink floods San’s cheeks as he nods, reaching his free hand up to trail along Seonghwa’s jaw, closing the small between them and pressing their lips together, chaste and gentle as San shifts to get comfortable. He strokes his fingers gently over Seonghwa’s neck, sending electric tingles up his spine as they tentatively push, Seonghwa’s tongue gliding over San’s bottom lip until he’s granted allowance.

 

He treats San like porcelain in moments like these, holding him steady and close and warming when San responds in kind, leaning into Seonghwa’s embrace and letting him lead. San kisses like he’s tipsy, messy and close and lazy about it, happy for Seonghwa to guide and just to follow, making soft noises of presumed approval when Seonghwa lets go of his hand in favour of feeling at him over his shirt. San pushes his chest out when Seonghwa’s hands roam over his nipples, breaking away to whine softly into Seonghwa’s shoulder, shy. 

 

“What’s wrong, pretty baby?” Seonghwa coos smoothly, chuckling when San nudges his hips at his tone, panting high pitched and shallow, his breath warm. “You don’t want me feeling your tits?”

 

“Oh, fuck,” San gasps, rolling his head to rest his cheek on Seonghwa’s shoulder, whining when the hand at his chest drops just a little. “Please, hyung…”

 

“Please what, Sannie? Use your words.”

 

“Feel my tits, please…”

 

Seonghwa grips a firm handful, kneading over firm muscle and pecking San’s lips. “You’ve been working out, huh?” he says softly, holding him tight when he squirms a little. “You look so good, I never get to just feel, do I? I love being slow with you, baby…”

 

San nods and relaxes against Seonghwa, moaning softly when Seonghwa runs his fingers down to rub over his nipple, inhaling sharply and whimpering when he pinches lightly. “Seonghwa,” he breathes, his voice wavering. “m’sensitive, ah…”

 

“I know, love, I know,” Seonghwa hums, kissing San’s cheek and rolling his nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “Should I take your shirt off, angel?”

 

“Please,” San begs, raising his arms a little to let Seonghwa lift his shirt up and off, moving to straddle his lap and pressing close. “Please touch me, hyung,” he huffs, blushing when Seonghwa raises a brow, cocking his head to the side. A low rumble rolls beyond the window, deep and long. 

 

“Touch you where?” Seonghwa asks, squeezing slowly over San’s waist, chuckling softly as he whimpers. “You have to ask, sweetheart.” 

 

“Touch my chest, please,” San sniffles, whining when Seonghwa rests his hands in the centre of his sternum. “My... my tits, Seonghwa, f-feel me up.”

 

Seonghwa moves his hands to cup over his tits, squeezing and pushing them together. “There, that’s much better, pretty boy,” he praises, gazing over San and watching the hazy look in his eyes. “You’ve been working so hard, they’re so big now, hm?” 

 

San nods, whimpering softly when Seonghwa rests his thumbs over each of his nipples, rolling slowly and pressing until he squeaks. “I’ve been going with Yunho,” he nods, swallowing hard and rolling his hips down slowly against Seonghwa’s thigh. “He has a good schedule. H-helps me focus on my stuff.”

 

He’s breathing shallowly, always so sensitive around his pretty chest. “That’s nice,” Seonghwa hums idly, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip and kneading slowly. “You should be proud, I don’t tell you that enough. You work so hard, Sannie, and you’re so golden. My pretty boy, hm?”

 

“Mhm... yours,” San says gently, leaning to rest his forehead against Seonghwa’s, nudging their noses together softly and sighing dreamily when his nipples are played with, no urgency in any of their movements. “Thank you, hyung. You’re so nice to me.”

 

“You deserve it,” Seonghwa promises softly, moving his hands to wrap around San’s waist, easing him to rest flush against his chest. “So wonderful, always. Such a gentle soul,” he hums, moving forward to kiss San’s lips gently, smiling when San returns the favour. “You know you’re always welcome here, okay? I love it when you’re here, no matter what we’re doing. Even if you just wanna hang out.”

 

San nods, resting his hands on Seonghwa’s chest and rolling his hips down slowly. “I appreciate that. You always make me feel so good,” he whispers, rutting lightly against Seonghwa’s thigh, enough for it to be a clear and conscious decision. “I’d stay here all the time if I could, I just like being with you.”

 

“I’m moving out soon. Come stay with me all you like,” Seonghwa smiles, nudging his hips up and holding San’s own firmly, guiding him down to compliment his movements. “And my parents don’t mind me having people over, I promise you don’t have to sneak in every time.”

 

“No promises,” San murmurs, laughing softly when Seonghwa pouts and kissing him sweetly. “I like climbing now. Part of my workout. Two hours in the gym, swimming, climbing up to your room. I’m getting strong.”

 

“I like to help however I can,” Seonghwa teases, squeezing San’s hips gently. “I think you need some stamina work, if you want. God, I wanna leave marks on those tits…”

 

Just like that, San melts once again in the palm of his hand, whining softly and rocking his hips gently. “Want you to, hyung, you leave the prettiest kisses,” he says softly, gasping when Seonghwa trails his fingers over his inner thighs, stroking gently over the outline of his cock, half hard. “I like looking at them when I’m alone. You always make them so dark, they last for so long…”

 

Seonghwa leans close, mouthing idly at the base of San’s throat, sucking just enough to leave a barely there mark, sweet pink on honey. “I love leaving them on you,” he purrs, rubbing slowly over San’s cock with just the tips of two fingers. “I love thinking about people seeing glances how pretty you look with my bruises all over your body... did anyone notice the-”

 

“Wooyoung did, he made everyone look,” San nods, shuddering lightly when Seonghwa sucks hard above his left nipple, grazing his teeth as he pulls away with a slick noise, moving to mirror it. “People don’t know about us yet, do they? I kinda want them to…”

 

Seonghwa pauses for a moment, finishing his dutiful marking and gazing up at San, smiling gently. “I want that, too. I didn’t want you to feel rushed or anything,” he says softly, resting his hand on San’s thigh and squeezing. “I really like you, Sannie. I want people to know that.”

 

“Oh,” San breathes out a sweet sigh, squeezing his thighs around Seonghwa’s waist. “Thank you, hyung…”

 

“You don’t have to thank me for that, sugar, I want you to know that I care about more than just your body,” Seonghwa hums, leaning back in the chair and gazing over San’s chest, faintly registering the thrum of rain against the window, the heavy thump of raindrops on the sil. “Even if your body is... fuck, San…”

 

“Sounds like a good idea. I like it when you fuck me,” San purrs, rolling his hips down and kissing Seonghwa impatiently, messy and desperate, whining when Seonghwa squeezes hard until he moves back. “Please?”

 

“Not in the chair, baby, there’s a perfectly good bed right over there,” Seonghwa laughs softly, letting go of San to watch him inch off his lap, holding his hands out patiently and pulling Seonghwa up when they’re held. “What do you-”

 

“Fuck me, Seonghwa,” San breathes, sliding to rest in the center of the bed and tenting a leg, painting Seonghwa’s new pillowcase with rainwater. “I want you to fuck me, please?”

 

Seonghwa sighs dreamily, sinking onto the bed and settling his knees either side of San’s waist, watching him for a moment as his lashes flutter. “So polite,” he coos, tapping two fingers to San’s cheek and smiling when he opens his mouth, resting them against his pretty pink tongue and nodding for him to suck. “Gonna have to be quiet, aren’t we baby? Can’t have my parents finding out that dear, sweet Sannie has been sneaking in and getting fucked into my mattress, can we?”

 

San shakes his head, hollowing his cheeks to suck Seonghwa’s fingers further into his mouth, tonguing between them steadily. “Mm-mm,” he agrees, mewling softly when Seonghwa moves away to open the drawer in his nightstand. “I’m good at being quiet, hyung, m’good at everything.”

 

They share a kiss once Seonghwa’s hand blindly finds the lube and a strip of condoms, then a string of sweet, quick pecks, until San’s giggling under his lips. “You’re plenty good at everything, Sannie, the best,” he praises, happy to fluff his ego up like he’s waterproofing a baby otter. “Always so good... how do you manage, hm?”

 

Seonghwa settles down to ease his own pyjama pants off San’s legs, followed more slowly by his boxers so he can revel in the soft, impatient whine. “Please,” he begs quietly, grabbing half heartedly at the hem of Seonghwa’s shirt and pulling it off with his help, huffing quietly as he waits. “I missed you this week.”

 

“You don’t have to wait until it rains to come and see me,” Seonghwa whispers, smiling softly when San wiggles his hips, pushing his own pyjama pants off along with his boxers. “I mean it. You don’t need an excuse to come over, and you don’t have to sneak in my window. You’re always welcome here, Sannie. I promise.”

 

“Mhm, hyung,” San sighs dreamily, letting Seonghwa move him like a ragdoll, tenting his legs and pulling him further down the bed by his hips. “You’re welcome here, to. Come anytime you like,” he wiggles a brow, giggling when Seonghwa leans down to press a kiss to his tummy. “You don’t even have to knock. Come right in.”

 

Seonghwa kisses the tip of San’s cock to hush him, satisfied when it works and he can pop the cap of his bottle of lube open without running commentary. “Let me knock a little bit,” Seonghwa tuts, coating three fingers and slowly circling his entrance with the pad of his middle one, waiting until San squirms in impatience to press inside slowly, watching his face calm like he’s been sated with the smallest amount. 

 

Opening San up is always a pleasure, just to hear every soft whimper as he receives more and more, one then two then a quietly comfortable three, curving to coax a trail of gentle whines from his lips. He’s always so sensitive on top of it all, jolting ever so lightly each time Seonghwa presses a kiss to the warm skin at his inner thighs, curling his hands into the sheets when slow, patient bruises are sucked to leave purple blooms. 

 

It’s almost hypnotic; Seonghwa rests comfortably on the bed, belly down with his cheek resting on San’s thigh, revelling in the slow pull whenever San clenches around his fingers, the heavy thrum of the rain now a distant lull when he can listen to pillow soft noises from the younger man. His fingers settle knuckle deep, rocking slowly to stroke over his prostate, reaching his other hand up to wrap around San’s cock, pumping slowly in time with each steady curl of his fingers. 

 

“Hyung,” San murmurs after a while, when Seonghwa looks up he’s still leaning back against the pillows, eyes closed and calm. “I want you, hyung, please?” he says softly, gasping sharply when Seonghwa thumbs over his slit, batting weakly in his general direction when he laughs, hushed and sweet. “Seonghwa!”

 

“I’m getting there, give me a moment,” Seonghwa chuckles, pulling his fingers far back enough to settle a fourth in when he pushes in again, thrusting them to settle snugly inside San and shallowly thrusting, until he’s moved to grip the pillow and press his face into it to muffle his whimpering. He moves his hand from San’s cock, only to rest the tips of two fingers against it, stroking in just the right way to make him writhe under his touch. “Do you want-”

 

“Yes!” San squeaks into the pillow, breathing a shaky sigh of relief when Seonghwa pulls both hands away slowly, letting go of the pillow and watching as he opens one of the foils, pinching the tip and rolling the latex down with patient precision. San isn’t being touched, yet his hips still twitch more the longer he waits, his cheeks warm and pink. “Seonghwa, please,” he pouts, huffing quietly when he almost gets his way, Seonghwa settling comfortably above him, smiling innocently. “Please, Seonghwa, please!”

 

For a moment, Seonghwa considers being mean and letting him beg, pouting back down at him and leaning down to kiss him gently. “You look so sweet when you’re needy,” he purrs, grazing his lips to press soft pecks at his ear, biting his lobe and pulling lightly, aided by the little silver and red earring. “Sannie, ask nicely, won’t you?”

 

“Please fuck me, Seonghwa,” San begs, shifting his hips and squeezing his soft thighs against Seonghwa’s sides, moving to cup Seonghwa’s cheek and arching his back up to press closer, nuzzling his cheek against Seonghwa’s own like a cat waiting for attention. “I wanna feel you in me, I wanna-... want you to feel me up and fuck me please...”

 

Seonghwa coos, guiding himself to rub against San’s entrance, barely pushing in and waiting for him to adjust to the stretch. “Always so pretty for me, San-ah,” Seonghwa says softly, shifting to get more comfortable and resting his hands on San’s pretty tits again, raising his right hand to smack lightly before squeezing, just to watch how his eyes get all glossy and wide. “I’m never getting over this,” he croons, rolling the palms of his hands down as he thrusts a little further, revelling in the way San’s eyelids flutter, his pretty pink mouth agape as he pants.

 

San waits for Seonghwa to settle again, hooking his ankles around the backs of his thighs to squeeze lightly, prompting him to push slowly but surely. “Do I look good?” he whispers, cheeks flushing as soon as his words leave his mouth, averting his gaze to Seonghwa’s hands on his chest, his fingers patiently rubbing circles around his nipples until they stiffen at the sensation. “Do you…” he trails off, his wavering confidence circling back when Seonghwa tugs lightly at one of his nipples, accentuated with another short thrust, now mostly inside. “Do you like playing with my tits, hyung?”

 

Seonghwa bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from grinning, pulling his hips back and rolling them forward. “I do, baby, they’re so soft,” he dips to press a wet kiss over each nipple in turn, grazing his teeth lightly just to hear the little yelps San always tries to hold back. “So sensitive, too, aren’t you? Poor sweetheart, it’d be so easy for me to get you all needy in public, wouldn’t it?”

 

“Yes, ah,” San gasps, biting his bottom lip and whining when Seonghwa nips lightly at his left nipple, moving up in favour of thrusting, slow and teasing, deliberately aiming to tease San into giving in and begging again because god , he looks so good when he’s desperate. “H-happened last week, at Hongjoong’s place…”

 

“Ohh, Sannie!” Seonghwa grins, rolling his hips smoothly to start rocking into San, resting a hand on his lightly toned abs and toying idly with his nipples in turn. “You should’ve said, sweetheart, I would’ve taken care of you. Can you touch yourself for me, pretty boy? It’s either that or you play with your own-”

 

San’s hand leaves the sheets at record speed, wrapping around the base of his cock and stroking desperately, slowing at just the raise of Seonghwa’s brow. They’ve done this enough times to know each other comfortably, each little habit they’ve adopted to tease one another. 

 

“Wooyoung says I-... fuck, I should get them pierced,” San says nonchalantly, a twinkle in his eyes when Seonghwa twists his left nipple and smacks harsh enough to make real noise. “What? You don’t think I should, hyung?”

 

“I think you’d cry from overstimulation the second anyone comes near you with a needle,” he snorts out a breathy laugh, thrusting sharply and resting more of his weight against San’s chest, fucking into his velvety warmth until he’s all the way deep, smirking when San squeaks and clenches around his cock. “Or is that just my hands on you? Am I the only one who knows how to treat you like you need it, baby?”

 

The hand at San’s abdomen moves up to grasp once again, the both of them panting in shaky tandem as Seonghwa pushes smooth muscles together, San’s fist mirroring the pace set by Seonghwa’s hips. “Fuck,” San squeezes his eyes shut, whining high pitched and breathy when he rolls his thumb over his slit, rolling his hips down to meet Seonghwa’s. “Wanna cum, please?”

 

“Not yet, baby, I know you can edge a little,” Seonghwa shakes his head, both of them knowing full well it’s a lie; San’s edging record is a whole 20 seconds, and that was by himself on the phone to Seonghwa. “I could fit my cock between them if I tried, don’t you think? I could-”

 

“Fuck, shut up,” San pants hastily, clenching hard around Seonghwa’s cock as he arches his back up, bringing his other hand up to cover his mouth as he squeaks, digging his heels into the backs of Seonghwa’s thighs. It’s impressive, all of this just to hold onto the edge. Cute. “Nngh, please hyung, I need it, please!”

 

“Need what, angel? Need me to fuck your-”

 

San seizes up as he cums, whimpering into his palm as his eyes roll and cross, gripping Seonghwa’s hand when it’s offered to him, just so he can see the glimpse of pink as he’s fucked through his orgasm. He lets go so Seonghwa can rest his hand under San’s chin, guiding his mouth open further and smiling softly when his tongue pushes out instinctively, his eyelids fluttering as he grips the sheets, still stroking his cock with a trembling arm. 

 

“So pretty,” Seonghwa praises fondly, gathering spit in his mouth and leaning down to let it pool slowly onto San’s tongue, which he swallows eagerly and returns to his former state, letting his eyes close for a moment as he pants. “Keep stroking, baby, that’s right. You can milk out another one for me, can’t you?”

 

If San registers his words, he certainly doesn’t answer; continuing his movements like it’s second nature, fluttering his eyes open to gaze dreamily up at Seonghwa, legs half slack as he paws at the sheets, blinking tears out when Seonghwa leans close, settling his hips close to San’s and thrusting hard and fast.

 

“Sannie, baby,” Seonghwa moans, twisting San’s nipple and holding back a laugh when it prompts San to shudder through another orgasm, twitching and moaning high and breathy as Seonghwa follows shortly after, grinding through it and leaning back. He moves San’s hand away, giving him a moment of restful relief before swiping his index finger over his slit, making him yelp at the sudden sensation. “Sannie, darling, you can take one more, can’t you? My prettiest boy can make a nice mess over his tummy, so I can rub it all over those beautiful tits, hm?”

 

The look on San’s face sends warm tingles up Seonghwa’s spine, nodding slowly and watching him with glazed over eyes, a lazy smile lingering on his lips as he keeps clenching weakly. “Wanna,” he whispers, his breath hitching when Seonghwa’s other hand pinches hard , making him whimper and writhe under his firm touch. 

 

“You cum so fast, huh? Can’t hold it in ever, too sensitive all over,” he teases, gripping at the base of San’s cock and stroking, slow and deliberate, until he’s quaking and pouting out of habit, one hand curling against the sheets as the other rests over Seonghwa’s one on his chest, seemingly sated when he stops his teasing in favour of some hand holding, their fingers interlacing. “My gentle little sweetheart. I’m here, you can cum whenever you need to.”

 

San whimpers softly, squeezing Seonghwa’s hand and relaxing completely as he lets go, hips twitching gently as Seonghwa’s fist strokes slowly over his cock. The rise and fall of his chest slows smoothly after a few moments of stillness, Seonghwa takes the time to pull out, parting their hands for just a moment to pull the condom off and hastily tie it, tossing it in the little trash bin at the side of his bed and looking at the mess San’s made of himself, a warm sense of pride settling in his stomach at how gentle and sated he looks, so easily fucked out. 

 

“Do you want me to get a washcloth for you, angel, or do you wanna-”

 

“Cuddles,” San huffs softly, whining when Seonghwa moves from the bed anyway, pulling on a fluffy bathrobe and darting to the bathroom in the pitch dark, clambering over the cat and shuddering at the sudden awareness of the rain once again, thrumming even harder against the bathroom window as he hunts out his little red and white washcloth, running the water over it until it gets warm, wringing it out and padding back to the bedroom. 

 

San is still in the center of the bed, barely moved and looking dazed and beautiful and so, so empty headed, blissfully tender. “Sannie,” he says gently as he closes the bedroom door, smiling softly when San looks up at him with so much warmth. Seonghwa settles to sit beside him on the bed, smiling fondly and letting him hold hands when he reaches out for it, lifting it to his lips and kissing gently over his knuckles. “My beauty, my sweetheart. How are you? Can you give me a colour?”

 

“Pink,” San says gently, struggling to keep his eyes open as Seonghwa dutifully cleans him up, giggling sweetly when Seonghwa makes a passing comment about him finally being quiet. “Was I too loud, do you think?”

 

“No, sugar, I don’t think so,” Seonghwa soothes as he presses a kiss to the clean canvas of San’s skin, then a few more when he sighs in quiet contentment, leaving the washcloth to soak over the side of the bin, good enough until morning. “I love it when you’re loud, though. I’m selfish, I think you sound as cute as you look.”

 

San seems content with that, wiggling to allow Seonghwa more room as he clicks the light off, taking a moment to frown out at the window before guiding his blinds down, closing the curtains. “Not selfish,” San hums, smiling when Seonghwa finally joins him on the bed, wrapping himself around Seonghwa’s side like a curling vine, rubbing his head against his shoulder. He needs to invest in one of those huge plushies, just to watch San cuddle around it. 

 

The rain is muffled behind layers now, quietened to just a far off hum, steady and comforting as they lay together in the dark. “Stay tomorrow,” Seonghwa invites, stroking a hand through San’s hair to feel how it’s dried, angelic little curly wisps, continuing when it coaxes San to relax even further against him. “You can help me with terraforming on Animal Crossing again. You haven’t met Bunnie yet, have you?”

 

“Not yet. Can I?” San murmurs, already slowed from sleep. “Stay, I mean.”

 

“Of course, you can always stay with me. Wherever I am, you’re more than welcome to slot in, always,” Seonghwa assures him, pressing a long kiss to his forehead and smiling against warm skin. He moves for a moment to pull the covers up and over them both, holding San close when he shudders a little. “I’ve got you, sugar. You tired?”

 

“Mhm,” San nods, resting his head at Seonghwa’s chest and settling once he’s suitably koala-esque, nestled comfortably and breathing slow and deep, tangling their legs together comfortably. “Can we sleep?”

 

“Of course we can sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up,” Seonghwa promises, pressing another kiss to San’s hair and smiling when he makes a gentle noise of appreciation, snuffling quietly as he settles. Seonghwa falls asleep not long after him, lulled into a warm slumber to the sound of his breathing.