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So much has changed, yet nothing has.
Seonghwa still goes to church every Sunday with his family. He still attends youth group and teaches bible stories to the little ones in the congregation. He still goes to the soup kitchen to volunteer.
And he still feels an entire field of butterflies in his belly when he looks at Yeosang.
But now, he can hold Yeosang’s hand and kiss his beautiful, soft lips. Now he can run his fingers through his soft, blonde locks and tug at the longer strands brushing the top of Yeosang’s shirt collar. He can rest his head against Yeosang’s shoulder after a tiring day at school and fall asleep in his warm, safe embrace.
Now he can call Yeosang his boyfriend.
His parent still don’t know, of course. Seonghwa wants to keep Yeonsang to himself just a little while longer. His heart races when they pull over into an empty parking lot just to make-out in the backseat, or when Yeosang drops him off at home and pecks him on the front porch where someone may see; the prospect of getting caught exhilarates him and terrifies him at the same time.
Since the youth group retreat, they’ve been taking things slow.
Or rather, Yeosang has, and Seonghwa has been subject to his kind, subtle rejections for the past three months. It began with small things like not touching Seonghwa where he wanted it most, but it all came to a head when Yeosang outright removed Seonghwa from his lap when he began to grind against him, lost in a haze of pleasure and lust.
Everything had come flooding out in the moment, reducing Seonghwa to tears.
“Do you not want me?” he’d choked out between sobs.
Yeonsang had gone wide-eyed and pale in the face.
“Of course I do, baby,” Yeosang soothed him, wiping each tear as it fell and pecking every inch of Seonghwa’s ruddy cheeks. “Why would you think that?”
His arms encircled Seonghwa’s frame as he’d curled into himself in shame and embarrassment.
“Because you don’t touch me,” he’d whimpered. “Not like you did back at the camp.” Seonghwa had looked up at Yeosang, eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I want to take things to the next level but you won’t even touch me, Yeosang. What am I supposed to think?”
“Fuck, Seonghwa, I didn’t mean to make you feel like that,” his boyfriend had cooed, a hand running up and down his back in slow, purposeful strokes. “I just- I didn’t want to mess everything up.”
Seonghwa buried his face against Yeosang’s chest then, heavy breaths warm against Yeosang’s skin as his sobs subsided.
“What do you mean? There’s no way you could mess this up,” he’d whispered. “I want you. All of you.”
Yeosang coaxed him up, both of his large, warm hand cupping Seonghwa’s wobbling chin.
“I didn’t want to rush into anything like we did that first night and scare you away,” Yeosang had explained to him gently, thumb brushing against Seonghwa’s trembling, kiss-bitten lips. “I want to give you everything baby, believe me. I just want to make sure you’re ready for this.”
“I’m ready,” Seonghwa had insisted. “I promise, I’m ready.”
Yeosang’s eyes softened, brimming with affection as he nodded and pulled Seonghwa close, their bodies melding together in a familiar embrace.
It’s been two weeks since then and as Seonghwa stands in the doorway of the hotel room, all of his excitement vanishes and is replaced with a gnawing ball of nerves that settles itself in the pit of his belly. He hears the snick of the deadbolt as it slides into place before Yeosang’s hands are on his waist, pulling him against his chest.
“Do you like it?” Yeosang whispers. Seonghwa nods, mouth agape as his gaze sweeps across the room.
It’s beautiful. Dark, wooden floors offset the crisp, white silk sheets that adorn the large bed in the middle of the room. It’s a four-poster with a canopy, the gauzy curtains pulled aside and framing the space like a picture. The bedside tables on either side are accented with a muted gold, and the candles atop them glow softly, flickering in a phantom wind. There are more candles scattered throughout the room- on the dresser and the coffee table, all glowing with a faint amber hue.
And the bed… is covered with rose petals. The scent of them fills the air, and it relaxes Seonghwa. His shoulders droop as he breathes in their fragrance deeply, hands resting atop Yeosang’s to twine their fingers together. The ball of nerves seems to dissipate with every breath.
Seonghwa leans his head back against Yeosang’s shoulder, swaying gently in his hold. Yeosang presses a soft kiss to his temple as he squeezes him tighter.
“This is wonderful, Yeosang,” Seonghwa’s voice trembles with pure adoration as he answers truthfully. “This is... more than I could have ever hoped for.”
“You deserve all of this and more, my love,” Yeosang murmurs back.
Seonghwa loosens his grip on Yeosang’s hands to turn around, his fingers running down the side of Yeosang’s face, tracing each candlelit dip and curve of it. Yeosang’s smiles at him tenderly, head leaning into Seonghwa’s hand and chasing his touch.
Gone is the rebellious boy who wears leather jackets and would huff and puff his way through mass.
Gone is the devout boy who was scared to be himself and love whoever he chose.
Right here, right now, there is only the two of them. Yeosang and Seonghwa.
Seonghwa tangles his fingers in Yeosang’s hair and tugs him close, their lips meeting in a slow, deep kiss. It’s not desperate or messy or heated. They just feel each other, breathe each other in; here, they have all the time in the world.
Yeosang pulls away first, brushing away the loose strands of hair falling over Seonghwa’s forehead. Seonghwa wants to kiss him again and again, until they’re both gasping for air. He wants to fall into Yeosang’s arms and stay there forever, warm and safe.
They stay tangled together as Yeosang walks him backward into the bathroom. Inside there is already a steaming bath prepared, a mass of bubbles floating on top. The white marble of the floor is tinged yellow-orange as more candles glint on the counter-top; the atmosphere is unbelievable romantic, and Seonghwa’s heart flutters as he realizes how much effort Yeosang put into making sure this was special for him. He feels so utterly loved.
Yeosang reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head, and Seonghwa can’t help but stare. Shadows dance in the cuts of his muscled torso, the light shifting with every one of his breaths. It makes Seonghwa’s mouth water and his heartbeat quicken as he takes in that Yeosang is his. Completely his. No one else would see him like this, under the glimmering light of candles so golden it makes him look heaven-sent.
He is Seonghwa’s, and Seonghwa is his. Utterly, and irrevocably.
Yeosang then reaches for Seonghwa’s shirt, unbuttoning it slowly and drinking in every inch of skin as it comes into view. Goosebumps arise on his flesh as Yeosang’s fingertips glance over his bare chest on their journey downward, and by the time he reaches the final button, Seonghwa is shivering with pure want. Pure need for Yeosang to touch him more.
Their pants come off next, and then their undergarments, and in what feels like a few seconds, they’re stood in front of each other in nothing but their own skin. The purest forms of themselves, all their scars and wounds bared to each other completely.
Seonghwa thought he would be scared, nervous. He thought he would shy away and hide himself, too embarrassed to show Yeosang his untouched body. But when he looks at Yeosang and sees the unbridled love in them, everything disappears. Nothing matters but Yeosang.
His chest feels warm, and if it were possible, Seonghwa is sure he would be glowing as bright as one of the candles as love fills him, drowns him. He’s so happy it’s almost suffocating; it takes his breath away.
Yeosang gently grabs his hips and pulls him closer, every inch of bare skin touching. He can feel Yeosang’s arousal against his thigh, and his own hardening shaft twitches when Yeosang captures his mouth in a world-shattering kiss.
He slips his tongue in, Seonghwa’s lips opening naturally to allow him access. The wet muscle explores every inch of Seonghwa’s mouth; it makes Seonghwa knees buckle and muscles tremble with desire.
When Yeosangs sucks on his tongue, he pitches forward, resting his full weight on top of his boyfriend. Yeosang’s strong arms hold his waist, supporting all of Seonghwa against him as he steals the very air from Seonghwa’s lungs without even having really touched him yet.
He pulls away, but not before sucking gently on Seonghwa’s plump bottom lip. Seonghwa looks completely debauched; his lips are red and swollen, and his cheeks and neck are flushed with a fiery blush. His hair is mussed, the perfect coif having fallen apart with a few drags of Yeosang’s long fingers through it.
Yeosang is sure he’s holding an angel in his arms.
When Yeosang’s hands travel to caress the backs of Seonghwa’s thighs, his body moves automatically. He jumps up and hooks his legs around Yeosang’s slim waist, their eyes locked on each other, unwavering. He manages to settle them both into the tub without stumbling or slipping, the warm, fragrant liquid blanketing them almost to their shoulders.
Seonghwa sits on Yeosang’s lap, straddling him. His hands rest on Yeosang’s chest, digging in gently to the hard flesh. Yeosang’s grip shifts to his ass, kneading him and squeezing every so often.
Seonghwa becomes embarrassingly hard from this alone, his cock brushing against Yeosang’s. He experimentally drops a single hand below the water, the foamy bubbles hiding the exploring limb from view.
A faint gasp leaves Yeosang’s lips as he finds what he’s looking for; Yeosang’s hips kick up reflexively as Seonghwa grips his hot shaft and begins jerking him off at an impossibly slow pace. Seonghwa watches as Yeosang’s eyes become hooded with lust, his own hand gripping Seonghwa's cock in much the same manner. The water sloshes against the pristine ceramic with each motion of their limbs moving in tandem, threatening to spill over the edge.
Seonghwa begins to lose himself to it, grinding upward into Yeosang’s grasp. His own eyelids droop in pleasure as Yeosang pumps his hand in earnest. A coil begins to tighten in the depths of Seonghwa’s belly. It’s familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. The last time he felt pleasure so intensely, it was also at Yeosang’s behest in a small cabin where he released all of his inhibitions.
It winds tighter and tighter, and it’s only by a random surge of willpower that Seonghwa is able to clutch Yeosang’s wrist, stopping his ministrations before he cums right then and there.
“Wait, not yet,” he says, voice shaky with arousal. Yeosang’s eyebrow cocks curiously and Seonghwa removes his hand from his pulsing cock and threads their fingers together.
“I… I want to cum with you inside me,” he whimpers as he presses his face against Yeosang’s neck. His boyfriend turns his head and presses a kiss against his temple.
“Are you sure, baby boy?” Yeosang asks.
Seonghwa shivers. He forgot how much he loves being called that. It makes the blood in his veins run hot with desire, his head fuzzy as bliss and contentment floods every cell of his body.
“I’m sure,” he affirms. Yeosang hums and shifts, reaching over the rim of the tub. Seonghwa follows his movement and his eyes widen in surprise as Yeosang pulls a small bottle of lube from the corner of the marble slab the bathtub is set in. He hadn’t noticed it before where it was hidden in the shadows; Yeosang really had thought of everything.
The cap opens with a soft click, and Yeosang drizzles a generous amount onto his fingers. It drips onto his palm, globs of it falling into the water and disappearing beneath the bubbles.
Seonghwa’s breath quickens, heart hammering in anticipation. Yeosang’s hand soon follows suit, vanishing from Seonghwa’s sight to prod at his entrance gently. He can’t stop the whine that pulls its way from his throat, his hips pushing back and chasing the slick digit.
Yeosang chuckles at Seonghwa’s eagerness, appeasing him a bit by pushing his finger in until the first knuckle. The relief is momentary and Seonghwa sighs at the sensation, but then he’s quickly chasing more, swiveling his hips back and coaxing Yeosang’s fingers further into him.
“Slow down, baby,” Yeosang admonishes him softly, amused.
“Want more,” Seonghwa whines, nipping at Yeosang’s lips. “Want it deeper, please.”
“You can have more, my love,” Yeosang reassures him. His free hand cups Seonghwa’s face and pulls him in for a deep kiss. His finger makes its way to Seonghwa’s tight, clenching hole, pumping in and out rhythmically. Seonghwa whimpers against Yeosang’s mouth, no longer able to concentrate on kissing him as the single digit touches him in places that makes him see stars.
A second finger creeps its way in, and the stretch is wonderful. Yeosang is trying to introduce him to the fuller sensation slowly, Seonghwa can tell. But he’s impatient.
He reaches back and seizes Yeosang’s wrist, rendering it immobile as he sheaths the two long, slick fingers in him with a contented sigh. His eyes fall shut as he grinds himself down on to Yeosang’s hand over and over. The water rises and falls with him in frothy waves, splashing against his chest; he can hear drops of it land on the floor as he picks up the pace.
When he opens his eyes again, Yeosang is staring at him, mouth agape. He hasn’t moved, allowing Seonghwa to use him as he pleases.
“Are you- are you okay, baby?’ he asks, concerned.
Seonghwa nods fervently.
“It doesn’t hurt?”
Seonghwa replies with a furious shake of his head. He continues to swivel his hips on Yeosang’s fingers, but he still wants more.
“Another one, please,” he whines. He wants to feel fuller; he wants to be filled to the brim with Yeosang and get lost in the pleasure.
Yeosang’s eyes widen as Seonghwa tries to coax another slick finger inside of him, slowly removing himself from Seonghwa’s tight grip and unsheathing his fingers. Seonghwa whines petulantly at the loss, once again grabbing from Yeosang’s wrist and trying to fill himself up with the lubed-up digits. Yeosang twists himself free with gentle motions and clasps Seonghwa’s hands together.
“Are you sure? Doesn’t it hurt, baby boy?” Yeosang questions him. Seonghwa shakes his head earnestly.
“I’ve been practicing,” he murmurs, opting to grind against Yeosang’s thigh instead. Yeosang balks at his words.
“What do you mean you’ve been practicing?” he asks in wonderment.
“Every day in the shower when my parents weren’t home,” Seonghwa admits. “I used my fingers so I would be ready for you.”
Yeosang’s face splits into the most beautiful grin Seonghwa has ever seen.
“You’re so good for me, baby boy,” Yeosang coos, letting Seonghwa’s hands drop back in the water. “How many of your fingers can you take, love?”
“Just two.” Seonghwa lets out a drawn-out moan as Yeosang’s fingers hastily slide back inside of him, pumping in and out rhythmically. Seonghwa arches his back and raises his hips, baring himself for Yeosang, allowing him to do whatever he pleases.
“You need to take one more for me, baby boy. Can you do that for me?” Yeosang asks. Seonghwa nods, watching as Yeosang withdraws his fingers a final time to coat them with more lube than was probably necessary.
The two fingers fill him up, and after a few strokes, Seonghwa can feel the third finger stretch him out. It burns deliciously, tugging on his ring of muscle in ways he never could have done on his own.
By the time the first knuckle is lodged in him, he’s panting against Yeosang’s chest, eyes skewed shut in a mix of pleasure and pain. His rim pulses around Yeosang’s fingers, adjusting to the intrusion. Yeosang waits for him, rubbing his back soothingly, his voice rumbling in his chest as he whispers sweet nothings into the rose-scented air.
Seonghwa wriggles his hips when he’s ready for more, and Yeosang pushes in at a snail’s pace. His rim gives way easily now that it’s gotten used to the unfamiliar girth, but the burning starts up again when the thick bases of Yeosang’s fingers sit flush against his entrance.
It hurts so good; Seonghwa has never felt anything like this before. He feels vulnerable, yet so safe. Yeosang’s fingers rub against him on the inside and send a ripple of pleasure shooting through him. This intimacy, being so exposed to Yeosang, so open… it makes a wave of emotion rise up in him. As it crests, the first tear falls, disappearing in the depths of the now-lukewarm bathwater.
Yeosang realizes it immediately, gently tugging Seonghwa’s face away from his bare chest and caressing his cheek. The tears are quickly wiped away, Yeosang kissing him and swallowing every whimper.
“Does it hurt, love?” Yeosang asks. Seonghwa shakes his head.
“N-no… it feels so good,” Seonghwa sniffles, pecking Yeosang in what he hopes is a reassuring manner.
Yeosang doesn’t buy it. “Then why are you crying?” His fingers don’t move, but Seonghwa can feel his wrist flex as he prepares to remove them at a moment’s notice. He doesn’t want that. Not by a long shot.
“I swear, you just make me feel so good Yeosang,” Seonghwa mewls, swiveling his hips to hit his words home. It still burns, but less so now that his body is used to it. Yeosang’s wrist relaxes as he watches Seonghwa’s face and notes no overt discomfort. But still, the tears continue to fall.
“Tell me what’s wrong, baby. Please.” The worry in Yeosang’s voice gives Seonghwa pause.
“You just- you make me so happy, Yeosang,” Seonghwa admits, the overwhelming emotion making his voice thick and heavy.
Yeosang’s tense shoulders droop as he registered Seonghwa’s words, believing him completely.
“You make me happy, too, my love,” Yeosang cups Seonghwa’s cheek, Seonghwa snuggling into him immediately. “I truly don’t know what I did to deserve you. You’re so perfect.”
“No, you are,” Seonghwa murmurs. “You did all of this for me, and you take care of me so well.”
“You deserve the world, Seonghwa,” Yeosang whispers against his lips, his own tears beginning to fall. “And I will work my ass off to give it to you.”
Their tears mingle as Yeosang cautiously begins moving his hand, pumping it so slowly that Seonghwa can feel as each finger travels over every ridge and bump inside of him.
Their lips press together over and over as Seonghwa loses himself and Yeosang lets him. His hands jump out of the water to grapple at Yeosang’s broad shoulders; it grounds him as the sensation of being so full winds up the coil again.
All too soon Yeosang is pulling away, face rosy with exertion. Seonghwa protests the loss, but one look in Yeosang’s eyes tells him that something far better is waiting for him. They dry each other off with the fluffiest towels Seonghwa’s ever seen, and he takes the opportunity to explore Yeosang’s body to the fullest.
He dries the hard lines of Yeosang’s back, nipping at the jumping muscles as the towel works over them. Then he falls to his knees, drying Yeosang’s thick thighs. Seonghwa leans forward to press an open-mouthed kiss against the side of Yeosang's hard shaft. He works his mouth up and down, licking up stray water droplets with a quick flick of his tongue. Yeosang allows him to suckle on the swollen head for a moment, tossing his head back and groaning before coaxing Seonghwa back to his feet.
“Today is about you, baby boy,” Yeosang says, picking Seonghwa up and making his way towards the bed. He lays Seonghwa down gently in the center and pulls back to admire the absolutely beautiful picture he makes, splayed out like that.
The stark white of the silky sheets and the blood red of the roses petals fanning out around him makes Seonghwa look angelic, other-worldly.
Yeosang slicks up his fingers again, sliding them inside Seonghwa’s fluttering entrance with little resistance now. The reaction it elicits is something that Yeosang wants to burn into his memories forever.
Seonghwa’s red lips open in a silent moan as his back arches, pressing Yeosang’s fingers further into him. He grabs Yeosang’s shoulders to anchor himself and bends his legs, baring himself. Yeosang crashes his lips against Seonghwa’s, losing his inhibitions as his mind becomes lust-addled. Their tongues clash and twist, breaths punching out desperately.
“W-want you. Want you now,” Seonghwa all but sobs into his mouth.
It’s all the encouragement Yeosang needs to pull his fingers out, wiping them clean as he grabs a condom. He rolls it on, pumping his own cock to slick it up with lube before settling himself between Seonghwa’s legs.
Seonghwa is breathing hard, chest quivering as Yeosang leans over him. His hands wrap around Yeosang’s shoulders in a loose embrace as his legs come up to lock themselves around Yeosang’s waist. The weight is heavy on his back and it pushes Yeosang down, his cock rubbing against Seonghwa’s slick entrance.
“Please,” Seonghwa murmurs. His gaze is sure and clear as Yeosang’s eyes bore into him. He uses one hand to line himself up, the other grabbing one of Seonghwa’s and twining their fingers together.
The moment he pushes the head in, Yeosang knows he’s done for. Seonghwa clenches around him, sucking him in like a vacuum. He tries to go slow, stopping when he sees tears well up in Seonghwa’s eyes and moving again when Seonghwa wriggles beneath him.
By the time he bottoms out, he’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat, beads of it gathering on his forehead. Seonghwa is no better off.
This feeling- it’s absolutely heavenly. Yeosang is filling Seonghwa up so completely, he can’t tell where he ends and Yeosang begins. The stretch of it makes him gasp out in pure bliss; three fingers were definitely not enough but Yeosang feels like he was made for him.
Seonghwa’s face is red and sweaty, his hair plastered to his forehead. His thighs quiver where they lay, locked around Yeosang’s body. He shifts as he locks eyes with Yeosang, and the drag of Yeosang’s cock against his wet, warm walls is enough to make him moan, high-pitched and needy.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight,” Yeosang growls, slowly grinding his hips and allowing Seonghwa to acclimate.
“This feels so amazing, Yeosang,” Seonghwa breathes out, winded.
“Can I move, love?” Yeosang asks, rubbing the side of Seonghwa torso with his free hand. The other one, still tangled with Seonghwa’s, squeezes ever so gently.
“Yes. God, yes please,” Seonghwa practically begs.
Yeosang pulls out halfway, sliding back into Seonghwa with tender, measured strokes. His eyes are skewed shut in pleasure as he holds himself back from slamming into Seonghwa, basking in the moment, and in the experience of sharing Seonghwa’s first time.
Seonghwa moans with each thrust, the curved of Yeosang’s cock brushing against something inside of him every single time; it sets off fireworks behind his eyes and makes every inch of him tingle with satisfaction.
“K-kiss me, Yeosang,” Seonghwa moans, and Yeosang obliges. The kiss is hot, and Yeosang speeds up, scooping Seonghwa up against his chest and pulling him impossibly closer. His hips kick with enough power to wrench a gasp from Seonghwa’s chest each time; Yeosang swallows them up, reveling in it.
The pleasure courses through Seonghwa’s body, white-hot. Yeosang is hitting that spot inside of him with precision, and he knows he’s going to cum like this. His legs are numb and his fingers tremble as he digs them into the hard muscle of Yeosang’s shoulders.
He rips his lips away from Yeosang’s to pant out, “I’m going to cum.”
Yeosang moves so quickly, Seonghwa feels the hand on his cock before he sees it. Yeosang pumps him in time with his powerful thrusts. The drag is a little rough, but Yeosang is careful not to overdo it.
Seonghwa all but screams at the increased stimulation. His mind is fuzzy as he heaves, attempting to get his bearings as Yeosang takes him right to the edge and tosses him off.
His orgasm rips through him, not even giving him a moment’s notice. His cock spasms in Yeosang’s grasp, spilling the milky white cum all over Yeosang’s hand and the heaving muscles of his belly. He can’t think, can’t hear, can’t see, can’t feel anything but Yeosang as he holds him through the mind-numbing sensation. Every inch of his body feels it- the fire of his pleasure, burning him from the inside out.
Yeosang tenses above him, and Seonghwa can feel him as he empties himself into the condom, still buried deep inside him; it sends a renewed wave of bliss over Seonghwa. Yeosang lets out a guttural groan as Seonghwa’s hot hole clenches around him like a vice, milking him for everything he’s worth.
They collapse against each other, coming down from their shared ecstasy; their laboured pants mingle as Yeosang tugs Seonghwa close. He only pulls away to toss the used condom and clean Seonghwa up.
They lay there, bare, curled around each other. Yeosang strokes Seonghwa’s hair and caresses his body; Seonghwa presses his palms against Yeosang’s chest, feeling the thump of his heartbeat.
And like that they fall asleep, breaths evening out as they drift off; wrapped up in their own, shared heaven.