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Seoho wouldn’t say he’s particularly horny—he’s a healthy young adult, for sure, and he gets pent up a little too often sometimes, but he's not horny—
He’s not Hwanwoong, who after a night is sticking to Dongju’s back, needy and whining as he kisses up his neck and makes Seoho wish he had his own fucking room.
He’s not, alright, he’s just fine and he does pretty well even when Geonhak is busy and away— only able to call him and chat when it’s late at night and Seoho's bones ache from living like he’s suddenly thirty years older. If he gets needy, he has a trusty friend (his hand) and then another (his other hand)—but that doesn’t really tend to happen, alright.
All this tangent is to say that: the fact that Seoho kind of wants to fuck right now is not an usual occurrence—is in fact the opposite. It’s an ultra-rare event that he blames completely on the fact that his roommate is a horny fucking bitch that sometimes just makes him feel more than a little lonely— because Seoho's boyfriend is busy lately, unlike Hwanwoong's, who spoils him so much it's cavity inducing.
Unlike the youth currently cuddling on and soiling his precious couch, Seoho is not needy, no—but God, sometimes even he wants to do things—feel his boyfriend’s stupidly soft voice in his ears as he’s softly taken apart—feel the warmth of his breath against his skin and—
God—Seoho hits himself with a pillow and muffles his quiet yell—god, is he horny. He hasn’t seen Geonhak in a week, hasn't actually done more than kiss him and maybe made out in even longer because he’s busy and Geonhak's busy and then they’re tired and oh my god they're like a couple of rickety old men who go play board games during the weekends they get to spend together and—
He throws his pillow at the wall next to him, turns to face it—grabs his pillow again and hugs it close to his chest. His phone is on the bed next to him, face down and quiet.
He could jerk off on his own—that’s option one. The good and trusty hand jerky. He can do that. The door’s locked to keep his demon's at bay, too, so they won’t interrupt him. He can absolutely do that, maybe think about Geonhak a little, pretend he's not needy as hell and would probably lose it just from his voice.
He can do that, yes, but does he want to? Debatable. He feels lonely, needy and stupid— he's not really sure how much his hand can help him now on its own.
Which takes him to option two, go the fuck to sleep and pretend he's not horny.
Now the problem with this option is that sleeping away his horny is something he has been doing for way too long, is probably already unhealthy for him, and, well, he doesn’t want to.
He'd rather jerk off and cry of loneliness that spend another fucking day needy like a horny high schooler. It is taking a toll on him, he might just kill Hwanwoong tomorrow if this keeps up—because, again, he is definitely at fault.
So that option is off the table, too.
Which takes him to option three—the dreaded just call your boyfriend and tell him you miss him and then maybe jerk off—
The one that, as a concept, sounds like the best idea— he’d get to talk to Geonhak and then tell him he's horny and then they can figure something out, use technology to be sexy, you know—little Gen Z things or whatever.
It’s the best idea, but Seoho is also kind of emotionally dumb— kind of unwilling to let any vulnerability show and very much unwilling to let Geonhak know that Seoho has completely naturally human needs, such as the desire to fuck.
He can't have that. Even if they have done it before—still, he can't have that. He won't have that. He will explode if he has to voice that he, god forbid, misses being able to feel his boyfriend’s warmth. He will straight up die.
And so—here he is, staring at his phone, and contemplating an early death for the sake of phone sex.
His worries in life sure seem to have taken a turn.
He makes a noise—a little groan of what has my life come to before he lets go of the pillow with one hand and reaches out for his phone.
Maybe Geonhak won’t pick up and Seoho will keep both his pride and his boner, who knows.
He sighs—unlocks his phone and goes to his contacts, definitely does not spend a second too long looking at his wallpaper that is definitely not a cute picture of him and Geonhak that Hwanwoong took shortly after they started dating—absolutely not.
He breathes in, wonders how the hell he's even going to say and calls.
He’s not actually sure if he wants or expects Geonhak to pick up, but he does—voice tired and raspy and so fucking warm Seoho kind of wants to kiss him.
Kind of very much wants to kiss him, in fact.
“Hey?” Seoho's brain spins a little, free hand going to play with the hem of his hoodie, lips suddenly feeling a little dry and fucking hell—
“Hey” Seoho doesn’t know why, but he finds himself to sound happy— voice a little breathy with the exhaustion of thinking and the nerves and need born from longing.
God, he’s so fucking gay.
“Are you busy?” He turns so he's facing the ceiling now, hand going up to fix the pillow on his chest—he breathes, fraction of a second.
“…No, why?” Geonhak seems to hesitate—just a little bit—and his voice is now tinted with worry and fucking hell Seoho doesn’t know how to say things— “Are you feeling okay?”
Seoho swallows, sits up a little too quickly and makes his head spin—he stutters a second of nonsense, interrupts when Geonhak seems about to insist.
“I'm fine!” He sounds a little too cheerful, maybe, so he lets the pillow fall over his crossed legs and drops his hand over it. “Better now” He shrugs, even though Geonhak can't see him, smiles at nothing and lets out a little laugh. “Just kinda missed you, sorry”
There’s silence again, and Seoho’s about to just hang up and go wallow in self-pity when Geonhak laughs—cute and quiet and in that way that makes his nose scrunch up and his eyes close and—and Seoho misses him so much, so he holds the phone closer and breathes.
“I saw you yesterday?” Seoho laughs again, taps at the back of his phone.
“Just a little, though” Tone a little playful— hiding something that might be a pout. Geonhak laughs again at that, and Seoho can't help smiling— laughter in-between his words. “What’s funny?”
“I missed you too” Soft and so kind—full of affection.
Seoho lets out a noise, hand to his hair and the back of his neck as he bites his lip.
“Not funny”
“Wasn’t meant to be?” Geonhak snorts, Seoho hears him move on the other end of the line, drop down on what sounds like his bed.
“Idiot” Geonhak makes a little offended noise at that, mumbles out a what the hell that Seoho ignores.
Silence again—Geonhak starts humming a song Seoho can’t recognize, neither says anything for a few seconds—neither moves to hang up, either.
Seoho glances at the door—glances at the pillow on his lap, picks it up and tosses it aside to stretch his legs.
“Geonhakkie” His voice drips with something that's definitely not innocent—mischievous edge as he leans back on the wall and lets his eyes fall closed.
He can imagine Geonhak squinting his eyes at him—Seoho smiles, brings a hand to his lips.
“What” Deadpan and trying his best to sound serious—but Seoho can picture the way the corner of Geonhak’s lip curls up, how curiosity and desire to play along light up his eyes despite how much Geonhak tries to pretend it’s not so. “Seoho—”
“I’m horny” Was it a little too crude? Maybe so, but Seoho's not about to think up pretty poetry to try and woo Geonhak—that’s not the kinda guy he is—and, also, he’s pent up and horny. Geonhak has to deal.
“Huh?” And he sounds surprised but also very much interested—Seoho can read him.
“Miss you” Seoho pouts, runs a finger over his lips and lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Wanna kiss you” He makes sure to sound breathy—maybe seductive—makes sure to sound good enough to rile Geonhak up because he misses him too and—
“I’m—” Geonhak stammers, seems to catch his breath—lick his lips. “I’m busy—I can’t go over, you know—”
“I do” He sounds whiny, plays with the end of his shorts now. “Just—you don’t even need to do anything, yeah? Just talk to me while I—”
Geonhak swallows—sound sharp over the phone and in Seoho's ear—he tries to imagine how it would feel to have him there, next to him, nervous eyes and fingers careful on Seoho's skin.
“What do you—” Geonhak sounds shaky, a little shy and unsure, and Seoho thanks whatever the fuck is out there that he has somehow managed to bulldoze past his fear and seems confident (even if his lips are trembling and he's sweating and embarrassed and he knows Geonhak's going to tease him later and—). “What do you miss, then?”
“You” He breathes, lets himself relax against the wall, lets his hand fall over his neck—touch gentle and almost imperceptible. “You’re always really warm” Seoho pouts, lets his hand rest around his collarbones. “Miss feeling your stupid breath on me”
Geonhak laughs—a soft sound that shouldn’t affect Seoho so much, but it does, makes him sigh and part his lips in a soundless gasp.
“My breath?” Seoho brings his hand up again, runs the tips of his fingers over his neck before getting to his mouth—fingers over his lower lip.
“Mmhm” Geonhak shifts on the other end, and Seoho revels in the way he can tell—can tell Geonhak’s affected, too, pent up and longing to touch and feel and— “Miss your lips on my skin” he pauses, hand moving to his cheek “Just really wanna kiss you—want you to kiss me”
“Wanna kiss you too” And it's so quiet, shy and unsure and Seoho imagines how it would feel to have him whispering against his neck—fingers ghosting down his throat where he longs longs longs to be touched.
“Good” Seoho smiles, lets his hand drop—down down down—until his fingers are ghosting over his shorts and fucking hell, he's already getting hard and Geonhak's just talking— “I miss your hands, too”
“Hands?” Geonhak’s breath hitches with the word, and Seoho wonders if maybe Geonhak’s just like him—sitting in bed with a hand hovering over his dick and thoughts so all over the place he can't think or feel anything that’s not Seoho—just like Seoho can't focus on anything that’s not Geonhak, his voice, breathing—little movements as he talks and lets Seoho pull him along, like always.
“Your hands on me” Geonhak makes a noise, then, and Seoho laughs. He lets his hand come under his shirt, ghosts his fingers over his navel. “I like how you touch me” He smiles, nudges at the elastic of his shorts. “You’re always so shaky at first, it’s cute”
“Am not” A mumble on the phone, and Seoho laughs, leans back on the wall so he can lift his hips and get his shorts and underwear off, leaves them somewhere on his calves because kicking them away is a pain and he’s gonna have to dress himself up again before leaving the room, anyway.
“You are, though” He rests his hand on his thigh, stops a second—thinks and turns his next words over, licks his lips. “Geonhakkie” A pause, voice breathy. He blinks his eyes, lets them fall closed again. “Where—where would you wanna touch?”
Geonhak seems to jump on the other end of the line—a high-pitched, embarrassed noise leaving him together with what’s undoubtedly the sound of bedsheets rustling as he shifts nervously. Cute—Seoho can’t help smiling.
“I don’t—hyung” Seoho giggles to his phone, fakes a pout he knows Geonhak can’t see but he hopes he can imagine.
“Please? I’ll tell you too” Geonhak’s breath hitches—Seoho hears him shift, hears the way his breathing is just a little more laboured, the way his lips open and close soundlessly more than once—can picture the way his face looks, confused and nervous and adorable.
“Neck” Geonhak’s breathing stutters—voice shaky and a little small, almost a whisper. “I like your neck”
Eyes still closed, Seoho brings his hand up to his neck again—runs his fingers through the front of it, the sides. This time his touch is just a little firmer, but still light—still delicate, imitating the way Geonhak is, so unsure at first as he tangles his fingers in Seoho’s hair and breathes against his lips so so carefully—
Hand dropping to his collarbone and then to his chest, Seoho lets out a happy sigh. Geonhak seems to be holding his breath, nervous—before he exhales into the phone and makes Seoho shiver slightly.
God—he’s so gone for Geonhak, really.
“I—” Seoho cuts off, lets his hand rest on his shoulder and makes a little noise—quiet and breathy. “Your hair—Really like your hair, wanna run my hands through it”
“And then pull on it while I’m distracted?” Geonhak’s voice is audibly affected, but his tone is still teasing, playful. Seoho laughs at that, unsexily might he add, finds himself grinning as he lets out a little noise of affirmation.
“You like that” And Geonhak only huffs in reply.
He hears Geonhak shift again, wishes he could see him run his hands through his hair—maybe pull on it if Seoho asked softly enough—wishes he could feel him there, could run his hands through Geonhak’s hair himself and could pull on it until Geonhak whined and pretended to be mad before he kissed him while Seoho laughed.
“Where else?” Seoho asks, lets his hand ghost over his shirt. Geonhak takes a second.
“Wherever—” Geonhak breathes in, seems to collect himself again with the pause. “Wherever you want”
“No fun” Even so, Seoho lets his hand fall to his thighs, bites on his lower lip before talking—breathy and quiet. “My thighs then, maybe?” His hand twitches, touching but not quite— waiting for Geonhak to say something, say yes, tell him to go on.
“Yeah” Said in a breath, and Seoho takes that as his cue—lets his head rest back against the wall and runs his fingers in uneven patterns on the inside of his thighs, twitches uselessly when he gets close to his dick—then moves away again, endless teasing that he’s used to and fucking craves because Geonhak likes to kiss his thighs and then up his navel and chest and fuck—
“Geonhak” Breathy, needy and maybe embarrassing but Seoho doesn’t care. “Wanna touch you, can I?”
“Where?” A little confused, a little playful—breathless and Seoho imagines he’s also teasing himself and fuck fuck fuck—
“You—” Seoho swallows, licks at his lips—gasps when he brings his hand way too close again. “Fucking shit, Geonhak” And Geonhak laughs, airy and cute and Seoho’s nothing short of desperate— “Don’t make me say things, come on—”
Geonhak, bastard, laughs—a pretty sound that makes Seoho’s head spin and his eyes shut a little tighter and—He breathes out, lets out something like a breathy whine and holds the phone a little tighter.
“Wanna touch your cock—happy now?” He forces it out in a mumble—tries to sound a little annoyed but mostly sounds gay. Geonhak chokes, seems to almost drop his phone even as he laughs—Seoho feels a sense of victory, rewards himself by digging his nails into his thigh.
“Seoho—” Seoho interrupts with a whine—loud on purpose as he runs his nails on the inside of his thigh. Geonhak makes a choked high noise, taken aback, and Seoho revels a fraction of a second in his victory before he speaks—breathless and needy.
“Come on—” He lets his eyes blink open, focus on nothing as he pushes away from the wall and curls just a little into himself. “Geonhak—wanna touch you—touch your hands and wanna kiss you and—” He chokes a little on his own words—lets out a trembling breath. “Please”
And god, Seoho wishes he could see the way he’s affecting Geonhak—could see the way his face twisted in nerves and confusion and need—wants to feel how warm warm warm Geonhak is when Seoho pushes him down for a kiss and and and—
“You’re—” Geonhak swallows—and his voice sounds somehow held back, shy, and Seoho can tell he’s just as needy—just as desperate and longing to touch and frustrated and horny and—“Too good at this—you” And whatever the hell else Geonhak whines next is lost to Seoho—too mumbled and quiet.
“I’m good at words” He smiles, lets his hand hover over his dick and breathes out. “Now lemme jerk off to your voice?”
And Geonhak makes a noise—one that goes straight to Seoho’s everything and has him laughing and trembling all the same, hand close enough he can feel its warmth on his skin and—
“Can I—like—” Geonhak swallows, seems to be struggling to get words out and it’s so cute.
“Wanna hear you, yeah, please” And then Geonhak whispers out a yeah and Seoho’s hand is quicker than his thoughts—movements maybe a little too rough and god—
God—He can hear Geonhak’s stupid gasps—can hear the way he comes apart, little breathy moans and noises and whispers of Seoho’s name and there’s some pleas here and there and Seoho’s brain is going white—
Seoho feels himself laughing a little—cuts off with a high moan when Geonhak’s breath hitches and his own hand is stupid slick and—
He drops the phone on the bed with a twitch—breathes out a swear as he leans down, considers taking it back, decides to just drop down on the bed and have the phone by his ear so he can have both hands free and god dammit why hadn’t he grabbed his earphones—
Geonhak laughs on the other end when Seoho finishes shifting, and Seoho wishes he could bite him so he shuts up—but he can’t, so he settles on parting his lips and breathing heavy on the phone, lets himself be loud (Hwanwoong and Dongju right next door be dammed, they always make him suffer anyway), nonsense whispers of Geonhak’s name and nothing spilling from his lips.
Hand on his dick, Seoho absently thinks about the fact that he doesn’t want to stain his bedsheets—shifts so he’s face up and it’s safer, brings the phone closer and closes his eyes, lets his other hand hover over his lips, spit slick and messy—feels white that overtakes fuzzy fuzzy fuzzy—
“Fuck—” Geonhak’s voice is muffled through the speaker, but Seoho can tell— can tell he’s close and Seoho is, too— “Seoho”
So needy—Seoho fucking moans at it, a little taken aback—retaliates by getting closer to the phone and whispering please come for me? around his fingers, so breathless and pretty and—
And then he hears the distinct, familiar note of Geonhak holding his breath before whimpering—falling apart and Seoho misses that so much—misses skin and misses Geonhak Geonhak Geonhak—
He finishes with a shudder—fingers not really doing much to muffle a moan that’s almost a yell, because Seoho’s stupidly loud—and then his hand is sticky and there’s sweat everywhere and he wants a shower and he’s so fucking happy—
God dammit— he’s so whipped and gone and happy and Geonhak’s catching his breath on the phone and Seoho wants to kiss his stupid face—
He pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a little sigh, wipes them on his shirt before grabbing his phone, eyes fixed on the ceiling as he, too, catches his breath. His brain turns, comes back to earth and away from numbing mist—he holds the phone close, turns on his side slightly and smiles.
“You good?” He tries to sound a little playful, but he’s still breathless and sappy, so it comes out a little too soft instead—he figures it doesn’t really matter that much. Geonhak only hums, low and soothing, then lets out a little happy laugh that makes Seoho close his eyes—a little overwhelmed.
There are a few seconds of silence—Seoho looks at his hand, thinks about looking for tissues.
“Hyung?” Geonhak’s voice is soft—a little sleepy, too, because it’s kinda late at night and he’s probably extra tired now—about to doze off wherever he’s sitting.
“Yeah?” Seoho pushes himself to sit up, holds the phone between his head and shoulder as he gets his clothes all back in place to look presentable. Geonhak takes a moment to reply, and Seoho imagines he’s scrunching his nose up cutely, a little dazed and embarrassed and thinking over words.
“Want you to kiss me…” He trails off by the end, voice nothing but a whisper, and Seoho nearly drops the phone on the bed.
God—why’s he so cute, god dammit.
Thankfully, he catches the phone with his clean hand—smiles as he stands up and walks towards the messy shelf that’s a little way from his bed.
“Sappy” teasing—but his voice sounds unbelievably fond. It earns him a groan—a little whine from Geonhak, embarrassed and cute. Seoho laughs, wipes his hand clean and tosses tissues to the small trashcan before walking back and dropping on his bed.
He really should shower—but he doesn’t wanna hang up, even if they’re in silence.
“Geonhakkie” Seoho can’t really hold back affection in his voice, free hand playing with the bedsheets as he looks at nothing. Geonhak’s reply is a noise, something sleepy—Seoho can’t stop smiling. “You’re falling asleep”
“I’m not” Geonhak’s voice sounds raspy—like he’s dragging it to even come out—and Seoho laughs a little again, shakes his head fondly.
“I can hear you” Geonhak grumbles something unintelligible, and Seoho snorts. “Just go sleep, I’ll hang up now, ‘kay?”
“Can—” Geonhak’s breathing seems to be a little uneven—nerves. Seoho blinks, runs a hand through his hair—bites his lip, curious.
“Hm?”
“Can you—” He stops, makes a quiet noise of frustration, seems to hold the phone a little closer—when he speaks up again, it’s even softer, voice a deep lull that Seoho loves. “Can you stay on the phone? Until I fall asleep” He trails off again—but whether it’s because he’s sleepy or because he’s embarrassed, Seoho’s not really sure—maybe it’s both.
“Cute” Seoho laughs, flattens his palm against the bedsheets. “Sure. I’ll hang up when you start snoring, though” Playful. Geonhak replies with a mumbled shut up.
And then there’s the rustling of sheets—quiet sounds as Geonhak probably finishes cleaning up and getting in bed, phone far enough that Seoho can only really hear a muffle of everything—
Geonhak grabs the phone again, breathing close, and Seoho lets out a giggle.
“Hey, Geonhakkie?” Geonhak replies with an annoyed noise—half-asleep. Seoho’s hand goes back to playing with the bedsheets, he breathes out—a soft exhale. “Love you, loser”
Geonhak laughs a little, too— half-asleep and quiet—
“Love you too” A mumble, and Seoho can imagine the way Geonhak’s eyes are closed cutely—the way his face is probably red and he’s trying to curl in on himself to look smaller—hide from embarrassment and from Seoho’s teasing.
“Sleep well” And then Geonhak’s just breathing—calm and content and Seoho’s head is spinning and so—so full of affection.
(Without noticing, he ends up falling asleep too— thoughts calm calm calm and loneliness just a little better—
He thinks about visiting Geonhak tomorrow, maybe, if they have time—thinks about running his hands through bleached hair as he dozes off).