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"He still doesn't know?" Mingyu asks, incredulous. He stares at Wonwoo with wide eyes, his hands stilling where they hover over the half-diced carrot on the cutting board.
He tries not to squirm under Mingyu's bemusement. "Well," he says, and shrugs in what he hopes is a nonchalant manner. "No."
Mingyu fully sets down the knife and turns his body to face Wonwoo. "But you're always biting him," he says, still sounding bemused, "You're always biting him."
Wonwoo shrugs again. If it was physiologically possible, his face would be burning with embarrassment. Thank god for the small wins. "I think he just thinks it's a..." he trails off, searching for the right words, "a quirk of mine."
"You literally bit him on his face yesterday," says Mingyu, almost accusatory. "Like, you literally bit his cheek. You opened your—'' he swirls a finger in Wonwoo's general direction, at a loss for words, "—I saw your teeth sink into his face."
He doesn't have the courage to tell Mingyu that that wasn't so much a vampiric urge for blood than it was just that Soonyoung has the cutest and roundest cheeks he's ever seen. Wonwoo's made a fool of himself enough for a day.
Besides, Mingyu wouldn't get it. He and Seokmin are both werewolves, they never had to navigate the complexities of interspecies courting. Sure, he had heard that they were originally from rival packs and it was all a little Romeo and Juliet. But they're still here, five years later, so it must've ended mostly okay.
It's different. Soonyoung's human.
🦇
It’s not as if Wonwoo has ever tried to hide it—or, at least, that’s what he tells himself. Somehow, it has just never come up before.
Not even when they are 16 years old, and Soonyoung moves to Changwon at the start of the school semester. They’re assigned to the same homeroom and become fast friends, made easy by the proximity of their seats and easier by Soonyoung’s friendly nature.
Wonwoo had just been coming into his vampiric inheritance. He has to miss a couple weeks of class as his body adjusts to his newfound strength and thirst for blood, though his gangly limbs would remain stick-thin and deceivingly frail until he fills out in university.
Soonyoung had been worried. Through the flashes of darkness, pain, and the shivers that wrack his body during the change, he remembers hearing the familiar sound of his best friend’s voice, far too loud than should be possible from where Wonwoo had been sequestered in his room and under a mountain of blankets that weigh down his shivering body, and newfound taste for blood. He hears Soonyoung talking to his parents, but they aren’t discernible words—just the sound of his voice.
And then, a sharp, impossible ache in his chest, like his heart has been cleaved into two and Wonwoo is missing one half. After that, Wonwoo remembers nothing else until he wakes up two days later with bruises on his knuckles.
Bohyuk tells him later, once it’s all over, that Wonwoo had charged at his own bedroom door and fought to open it. “You were gross and creepy,” his brother says, eyeing him with such clear judgment that Wonwoo feels the urge to kick him. “Good thing Soonyoung-hyung didn’t hear you from the door.”
Embarrassment pinkens his cheeks and his neck burns with shame. “Whatever,” Wonwoo says, maturely. He’s not going to go easy on Bohyuk the next time they play Smash Bros together, he decides. “Just wait until your inheritance.”
(Except when he had turned 16, Bohyuk’s inheritance went by perfectly smoothly. A part of Wonwoo resents him a little for that.)
At the time, Wonwoo just remembers feeling relieved. No doubt Soonyoung would have made jokes about ‘a second puberty’ if he knew. How embarrassing that would have been.
Wonwoo returns to school after three weeks. Everything looks a little different by then. To his consternation, he’s still nearsighted—but the world around him looks sharper, as if his changed senses afford him more clarity.
Soonyoung, too, he thinks looks different. Louder, somehow. His hair isn’t much longer in the brief time that had passed, tiny patches of acne still redden his round cheeks, and he hasn’t taken off his goofy braces that he hides behind a small, chubby hand every time he smiles—something that always made Wonwoo’s gut twist a little. In his appearance, Soonyoung stays the same. Wonwoo can’t help but notice him.
“Wonwoo-yah,” he says, his face etched with such worry that Wonwoo feels something flutter in his stomach. Soonyoung vibrates a little on his feet, as if his body can’t contain the concern held on his face. Wonwoo’s stomach hurt. The inheritance must have taken a higher toll on his body than he initially realized. “Wonwoo-yah, are you okay? Were you sick? Did you have the flu?”
It’s hard to look at Soonyoung’s face, his ruddy cheeks and his bottom lip tucked under his slightly crooked teeth in concern. He’s still around the same height as Wonwoo at this time, but his presence has always felt so all-encompassing.
Wonwoo has to avert his eyes. His mouth opens to explain his inheritance, drawing up the words from his mind to the tip of his tongue, when Soonyoung launches himself at him and wraps his gangly arms around Wonwoo. The words dry up on his tongue. His stomach hurts more.
“You’re okay now, right?” Soonyoung says worriedly. His breath is warm when he exhales against Wonwoo’s neck. “Bohyuk said you were dying and gross.”
I’m going to fight Bohyuk, Wonwoo thinks dazedly, abstractedly. His mind processes Soonyoung’s words sluggishly, caught by the circle of Soonyoung’s thin arms around him. The front of Soonyoung presses into Wonwoo’s side.
“Uh—” Wonwoo stammers. He’s never noticed before, but Soonyoung smells good. It’s distracting. “Uh— I’m. I’m okay.”
Soonyoung continues talking to him, but Wonwoo’s mind feels as if it’s been caught in a whirlwind. His mind is jumbled and he struggles to keep his focus on Wonwoo. All around him, all he can see is Soonyoung, all he can smell is Soonyoung. It’s overwhelming.
That day, Wonwoo has to go home early. He tells the school nurse, a kindly older banshee that’s worked at the school for decades, that he’s not feeling well.
He forgets everything that he had meant to tell Soonyoung.
🦇
In the end, it’s inconsequential anyway. Soonyoung moves away at the end of the school year, just as suddenly as he had moved to Changwon at the start of the semester.
At first, Wonwoo’s chest hurts each time he thinks of Soonyoung. But slowly, over time, he becomes nothing but a fleeting memory.
🦇
It doesn’t become a problem until many, many years later.
🦇
Wonwoo doesn’t usually do this.
The other man barely waits until the door falls closed to push Wonwoo up against it. He presses him there, the warmth from his body enough for Wonwoo to forget the chilly winter air they left behind on the other side of the door. Moonlight slants in through the windows. The silver cast of light illuminates the other man’s features, but just barely, and it hardly matters when he initiates another open-mouthed kiss as he ruts against Wonwoo impatiently.
It’s a little cute, the quiet little sounds that he’s making in the back of his throat like he can’t get enough of Wonwoo’s kisses. Wonwoo thought he was cute back in the club too, even as he resents Mingyu a little bit for corralling him to go just for the sake of getting Wonwoo out of his apartment more. It’s the last thing on his mind now.
His hands find their way under his partner’s clothing, trailing along the warmth of his smooth skin and surprisingly taut muscles. He drags his nail over one nipple. The moan that this elicits shoots straight towards Wonwoo’s dick.
Wonwoo is rewarded with a nip at his bottom lip. It makes his own fangs, hidden away for courtesy, throb with a wanting ache and he lets out a low groan that gets muffled by the kiss. At the bar, Wonwoo couldn’t tell if he was anything but human—but it’s not polite to ask, and it doesn’t matter anyway. Not for a one night stand. So he doesn’t, and instead runs his hand along his lower back, and only dips his hands lower to palm at his ass when the other man arches into his touch.
They pull apart with a slick, wet noise that would have felt embarrassing in the quiet of his apartment if it didn’t make the room feel so much hotter. Through the glow of the moonlight, Wonwoo catches a glimpse of pouty, swollen lips and half-lid eyes. His dick presses almost painfully against the zipper in his tight jeans.
“Bed?” Wonwoo asks, heat rising to his face at how husky his voice comes out.
It pulls a shiver from the other man, though. “Yeah, c’mon,” he says, a touch impatiently. Something about his voice rings a faint bell in Wonwoo’s mind. He presses another kiss to Wonwoo’s lips and intertwines their fingers together, grinding his hips against Wonwoo’s.
Wonwoo lets himself be tugged away from the door and laughs a little when the other man stops as soon as he starts, glancing up at Wonwoo with a lost expression on his face. It sends another spark through him, something familiar; a sense of déjà vu that is easily forgotten in the next moment when Wonwoo finally takes the reins and pulls the man towards his bedroom.
His apartment isn’t particularly impressive by any means—it can’t be, really, located in Seoul and buried amidst the older buildings that line the streets in this part of the city. It takes only a few paces from Wonwoo to guide them both from his door and into his bedroom. Wonwoo hadn’t been used to the size at first, compared to his family home in Changwon, and had surprisingly missed having Bohyuk around to play console games with him, but he’d been grateful all the same for his family taking care of the rent for him.
Now, though, and with the few times he’s brought someone home with him since he’s started university, he’s glad he lives alone.
The biggest draw to his apartment is the big window in his room behind his headboard. A little more light bleeds in from the dampened glow of streetlights outside, enough for them to navigate a little easier around the darkness. The man doesn’t say much, but Wonwoo doesn’t expect him to—he’s here to get fucked, anyway, not comment on Wonwoo’s sense of decor.
He slides a coy glance at Wonwoo, and then falls backwards onto Wonwoo’s bed, one hand still intertwined with Wonwoo’s. Just as he pulls Wonwoo down on top of him, Wonwoo catches sight of their reflection in his window—reflection, singular. Wonwoo doesn’t have one, and he’s never thought of it much before until he spots the man’s mussed hair and the elegant curve of his arms as he wraps them around Wonwoo’s invisible neck, his body arched and grinding against nothing. It’s hot, so fucking hot and Wonwoo can’t help the low groan as he pins the man down on the bed as heat burns in his stomach.
“Kiss me,” his partner demands.
It takes effort to pull his eyes away from the window and back down to the man, but once he does, Wonwoo finds himself captivated by his lips, soft and wet and worked into the slightest pout. His shirt is partially unbuttoned to reveal a slender neck that has Wonwoo’s gums aching again. He had been tantalizing and entrancing on the dance floor, an intimidating presence even after he first approached Wonwoo for a drink, but laying on his back on Wonwoo’s bed like this, Wonwoo takes notice of the roundness of his cheeks and the plushness of his bottom lip.
Cute, he thinks again. There’s something familiar about him too, but there’s only so many gay guys visiting gay clubs in the city—as big as Seoul is. A part of Wonwoo thinks he should ask for his name. Somehow, though, that feels more embarrassing at this late stage of the game.
“You want me to kiss you?” Wonwoo asks instead, and thinks about how he wishes he could bite him.
The other man nods eagerly as he rubs himself against Wonwoo’s thigh again. He has a brief passing thought, a note of curiosity as he wonders whether the man noticed their reflection or not, but it doesn’t matter when in the next second, he tugs Wonwoo down for another dirty open-mouthed kiss. He slides his tongue along the seam of Wonwoo’s lips, opens up for him when Wonwoo gives it back as good, licking into his mouth and swallowing up the tiny gasps he’s making. The arms tighten around him, pulling him in even closer as he grinds up against Wonwoo, and then his hands glide greedily along Wonwoo’s skin, blindly pulling off his shirt to grope at Wonwoo’s shoulders and arms.
Wonwoo helps him, and then returns the favour until they are both naked. He looks even better like this—and still, no signs of any traits other than human. It’s none of Wonwoo’s business though and he doesn’t pry. Their noses bump together and Wonwoo brings their mouths together.
He starts off with a chaste kiss to his lips, and then another one—less chaste—as he trails biting kisses down the column of his neck, leaving behind a faint sting with the blunt edge of his human teeth. There’s an ever-present temptation to do more, to bite down with his fangs, but Wonwoo only pauses to breathe in the sweet scent at the base of his neck before he continues his journey downwards, but not before reaching over to his bedside table for lube and a condom.
He pauses to flick his tongue over his left nipple. The sound he makes goes straight to Wonwoo’s cock, his stomach clenching in arousal. Wonwoo keeps going until he’s running his hands over the soft skin of his thighs, pressing soft kisses along his stomach, and then down to his cock. The man cups the back of Wonwoo’s head, fingers scritching through the short strands of hair at the base of his neck, as Wonwoo brushes his lips torturously slow up the length. He relishes in the loud pants falling from the man’s lips as he sucks gently over the head of his dick, the man’s knees jerking where they’ve spread open to accommodate Wonwoo.
“What else do you want?” Wonwoo says, nosing against his cock, mouth spit-slick and hot.
The man moans and tugs Wonwoo back up until he can grind his cock against Wonwoo’s own length. One soft hand reaches down and wraps around Wonwoo’s dick. He strokes Wonwoo from base to tip with one full, slow movement, a suggestive smile toying at the corner of his lips. His own cock is leaking precum onto his stomach and Wonwoo’s mouth waters with the urge to taste it off of his skin.
“Want you to fuck me,” the man says, just as he rolls his finger over the slit. He works Wonwoo’s cock with slow, deliberate motions until the head is flushing and the precum forms at the tip.
Wonwoo swallows, and his Adam’s apple bobs. Saliva fills his mouth. “Fuck—yeah, okay. I can do that,” he promises.
He’s beautiful when Wonwoo works him open with his fingers, and even more beautiful yet when he rolls them over and sinks down on Wonwoo’s cock, perfect and hot and tight around him, and rides him with a shameless abandon that only sends the arousal burning brighter in his gut. Wonwoo doesn’t bite him, he never does to his partners except for his last girlfriend, who was a vampire herself.
They fuck multiple times that night, the second time in Wonwoo’s cramped shower, as the man shivers and trembles in Wonwoo’s arms. Each round is filthier than the last, his moans loud and perfect and sweet as Wonwoo loses himself in the tight heat of the stranger’s body.
It’s the best one night stand Wonwoo has ever had.
He never does get his name in the end.
🦇
Wonwoo doesn’t expect to see him again. After all, if not for Mingyu, he wouldn’t have been at the club in the first place. He had only seen the other man in the dark anyway, and Wonwoo thinks he remembers the sound of his moans more than his face.
Not that Wonwoo is looking for him. It was just one night, after all.
On Friday, Wonwoo finally makes it out to catch Seokmin’s show. He meets Mingyu there, though he runs a little late, to Mingyu’s ire. As an apology—and to celebrate Seokmin’s hard work—Wonwoo treats them both out for dinner after the show. In a true werewolf fashion, and their taste for meat, Seokmin takes them all out to barbeque at a restaurant close to Mingyu’s apartment. “My friend could give us a discount if he’s working there tonight,” Seokmin tells Wonwoo brightly.
“It’s fine,” Wonwoo tries to say. He can splurge a little for his friends, it’s not like he minds. But he lets himself get dragged into the cab nonetheless.
It’s been two years since Wonwoo met Mingyu and Seokmin in their first year of university together. By then, Mingyu and Seokmin had already begun dating. Still, neither of them typically made Wonwoo feel like a third wheel in the relationship—though it helped that they tended to fight with each other more than they were affectionate. Wonwoo will never admit it, but he enjoys the front row seat a little bit.
The food is good, though Wonwoo doesn’t think it’s spectacular. The meat is well-marinated and the housemade kimchi is fermented to Wonwoo’s liking. It doesn’t do much to nourish him—he needs blood for that—but the menu offers some pig’s blood in little Capri Sun packets, and that’s good enough for Wonwoo. The three of them take turns manning the grill, though Mingyu hovers over them like he’s worried that they’ll set the pork belly on fire. It earns him an eye roll from Seokmin.
It’s Seokmin’s turn on the grill when a loud voice cuts through the disruptive din in the restaurant. “Is that who I think it is?” They sound strangely familiar, but Wonwoo can’t immediately place it. Wonwoo pauses. He shoves a slightly burnt slice of galbi into his mouth and begins to look up from his food. Across from him, Seokmin’s already turning towards the voice.
“Hyung!” Seokmin’s face lights up. His mouth stretches into a grin nearly as wide as the beauty mark on his cheek. “I texted you—I wasn’t sure if you were working today.”
Wonwoo turns around. There’s a boy standing there with a pair of tongs in his hand, a navy apron pulled over his head and cinched around a small waist. Wonwoo frowns. Something about his face feels very, very familiar. He’s grinning at Seokmin, his eyes curved into moons and the apple of his cheeks bunched up from his smile.
Wonwoo’s stomach drops.
“A man who’s sexiest when he grills meat!” The boy crows. If possible, his smile grows bigger. “Sorry, Seokmin-ah. I was in the kitchen. I didn’t see your text. I’m on my break now.” He steps closer to their table and squeezes at Seokmin’s bicep, and then as if not wanting Mingyu to feel left out, he squeezes his too.
When he turns to Wonwoo, his smile fades into something a little more reserved—shy, maybe, and he starts to dip his head in greeting—and then halts. He stares at Wonwoo with wide eyes. Neither of them say anything, and for a moment, all Wonwoo can remember is the last time he saw the other man: underneath him in his bed, on top and riding his dick like a fucking champion, moaning like he’s never gotten dick as good as Wonwoo’s, looking so good that Wonwoo had wanted to sink his teeth into him.
He can feel the back of his neck prickle with heat. Wonwoo hadn’t expected to run into him—nor even recognize him, given how the night went. And yet here he is. Wonwoo doesn’t do hookups enough to be familiar with the etiquette, and he panics a little as he tries to formulate a plan.
Maybe he’ll say hi. That seems normal enough, if he was just meeting Seokmin’s friend. He doesn’t need to make reference to that night. Who knows how much Seokmin’s friend remembers his face, it was dark after all.There’s no reason to make it awkward. But then—
“Jeon Wonwoo?” The man says, pointing the tongs in Wonwoo’s direction. “That’s you, isn’t it?”
Surprise flashes across Wonwoo’s face, and he can see the look of curiosity that Seokmin and Mingyu exchange with each other. He doesn’t think he ever told him his name—and he surely didn’t get his either.
“You know Soonyoung-hyung?” Mingyu cuts in, his eyes flitting from Wonwoo to Soonyoung, and then back.
He’s about to respond with a shake of his head—a one night stand hardly counts as knowing someone—but then his mind latches onto the name and it’s as if his brain just freezes.
“Kwon Soonyoung?” Wonwoo blurts out before he can stop himself. His eyebrows raise in surprise.
Soonyoung. Soonyoung.
Wonwoo takes in his face anew. It feels just like the day after he finally came into inheritance; as if for the first time, Wonwoo is seeing the world clearly again even through his glasses. Seeing Soonyoung’s face, now, sparks the note of familiarity that he had been brushing off earlier.
Maybe even the night they—he balks internally—slept together. Wonwoo had thought he had seemed familiar then, too, didn’t he?
Staring at him now, it feels like it should have been impossible for him to not have recognized Soonyoung. His haircut is better than when they were teenagers. The night they spent together, the bleached blond locks had been pushed away from his forehead, and now it’s now falling loosely around his face in a way that makes Soonyoung look youthful. The braces are gone, and his acne has cleared up. Even the teeth that used to make him look a little goofy seem to suit him well now. But, Wonwoo notices, the chubby cheeks that have only slightly slimmed down in age are still there.
Wonwoo had thought it made him look cute back then when they were kids, and he finds it cute now.
In retrospect, he doesn’t know how he didn’t recognize Soonyoung earlier.
His stomach feels a little as if it’s falling through to the floor—but this time, it’s for a different reason. Soonyoung. Wonwoo hasn’t seen him in six years, has barely thought of him in this time. It would feel a little like a destined meeting, a twist of fate, for him to see him again through his best friends in university.
If only their last encounter wasn’t...
Soonyoung seems to catch what he’s thinking because his face reddens a little. But then he squares his shoulder, and crosses the scant distance from where he had been hovering by Mingyu’s elbow and drops himself into the unoccupied chair next to Wonwoo. “Your voice is so deep now!” Soonyoung exclaims, still a little pink in the face, but he peers at Wonwoo with wonder in his eyes. “Look at you! You’re so broad now. What happened to the stringbean from high school? No wonder I didn’t recognize you—” He cuts himself off and flushes deeper.
That answers one question. Soonyoung does remember. Fuck. Wonwoo tries not to think about Soonyoung naked.
“You knew each other in high school?” Mingyu says, looking between them and giving Wonwoo a funny look.
Wonwoo barely manages a nod, his mind still raptured by his memories of Soonyoung—of homeroom, of Soonyoung in his room, his childish face back then, and his face now, the warmth in his belly and how he’s now seen more of Soonyoung than he’d ever expect to see.
Meanwhile, Soonyoung responds more enthusiastically, clearly much better at adapting to stressful situations than Wonwoo is. “I was, like, his best friend in high school. Well, I moved away—but we were like this—” he intertwines his index and pointer fingers together “—and then we lost touch.” He turns to face Wonwoo again. “Isn’t that right, Wonwoo?”
He can feel something in his stomach. A strange feeling, as if there’s something swerving inside of him. His hands clutch onto his Capri Sun pouch to tether himself. “Uh— yes,” he answers awkwardly. Wonwoo can’t bring himself to look Soonyoung in the eyes.
“We have so much to catch up on,” Soonyoung declares, with a voice so determined that Wonwoo finds himself staring at him anyway. Maybe it’s a mistake, because there’s a small smile on Soonyoung’s face now, earnest and pleased. His cheeks are still slightly flushed. “I want to hear all about you, Wonwoo-yah.”
🦇
The night gets a little easier as it progresses. Wonwoo learns of how Soonyoung’s dad’s business had taken them away from Changwon and into Namyangju, where Soonyoung spent the rest of this teenage years growing up. He’s studying economics in Seoul now, but flushes when he confides to Wonwoo that even he thinks it doesn’t suit him. He has two other roommates that he met in the dance club he joined in university, and it’s apparently through his roommates that he knows Seokmin. “Performing arts,” he explains to Wonwoo.
It’s not until Soonyoung has to leave to return back to work—though not without exchanging contact details with Wonwoo—that he turns a teasing smile towards Wonwoo. In a terrible way, it reminds Wonwoo of when they were teenagers and unable to stop poking at each other—except to his horror, he finds the look on Soonyoung’s face a little sexy now. “I can’t believe you’ve just been sipping juice all night,” Soonyoung says, nudging him playfully.
Wonwoo doesn’t understand at first. He furrows his brows. Belatedly, he realizes that Soonyoung’s talking about his pouch of blood that he’s been nursing all throughout dinner. Across the table in his periphery, he sees amusement flash across Mingyu’s face and Seokmin bites down on his own bottom lip to stop himself from laughing.
Soonyoung doesn’t know it’s blood, he realizes. The pouch is opaque for privacy reasons, but it’s not uncommon to serve at restaurants—along with other common dietary items of most species—for ease of access. After all this time, Soonyoung still doesn’t know he’s a vampire.
Before he can say anything, correct him and clear the misunderstanding, Soonyoung winks at them and walks away.
“Juice, huh?” Mingyu says, as soon as Soonyoung walks away. “How cute, Wonwoo-hyung.”
Wonwoo groans. “Shut up.”
🦇
For the rest of the weekend, Wonwoo agonizes over Soonyoung’s number in his phone. Maybe if it had been a normal reunion, without the awkwardness of a one night stand lingering in the back of his mind, Wonwoo would just not be a coward. As it is, he frets—quietly, he had thought—until Seungcheol-hyung called him out over their Discord call for feeding the other team during Valorant.
But it turns out he didn’t need to be so anxious. On Monday, Soonyoung messages him on KakaoTalk, typing exactly as he speaks: with aegyo, little typos and misspellings, and about ten short messages at once instead of in a single sentence. It’s not much—just an invitation to lunch and to catch up on all the time they’ve missed since they were 16.
Wonwoo accepts. Maybe he even puts on his nice pair of pants, rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, and plays with his hair a little in the mirror. None of his friends are there to pick on him for it, and he won’t be telling any of them.
Being with Soonyoung again after all these years is an easy thing. Even when Wonwoo was more shy and more awkward than he is now, and even when Soonyoung was too brash and impatient for most people, Soonyoung has always been easy for him to be with.
He’s good for him, too. Soonyoung’s always had a way with bringing out a playful side in Wonwoo, and it’s only twenty minutes into their lunch before he’s teasing Soonyoung for dropping his pancake onto the table, or for poking his shoulder and his ribs to get a flustered pout from him.
One lunch grows into two, and then three, and then into dinner—which becomes a regular fixture in their lives, something that Wonwoo is glad for because he was starting to break out from being in the sun far too often. After that, there’s a movie, and coffee dates, and surprisingly, shopping together. There’s almost nothing that the two of them have in common, but with Soonyoung—for the most part, it feels like he’s never left. Wonwoo tries not to be shocked by how much it feels right.
There are moments, though, when Wonwoo remembers the time they’ve spent apart. How much Soonyoung has grown into someone as beautiful as he’s charming.
Sometimes Soonyoung wears an oversized sweater, and it’s increasingly hard not to notice the pale column of neck, or the way he tilts his head when he’s confused and Wonwoo just wants to bite. He’s touchy too, always grabbing at Wonwoo’s hands or sitting just a bit too close. Close enough for Wonwoo to take in his sweet scent. His gums ache at the end of the day, but it’s worth it, to be with Soonyoung again.
Wonwoo’s careful not to let him notice.
Still, Soonyoung doesn’t bring up their one night together. Wonwoo thinks he’s glad about that.
🦇
Soonyoung kisses him the night he finishes his homework for his operating systems course.
Barely a kiss, really. It lasts for about half a second before Soonyoung pulls away, an uncharacteristically anxious expression on his face that makes Wonwoo’s stomach twist a little.
He’s aware that he’s gawping at Soonyoung, his own face pulled into surprise. Wonwoo’s hand is still frozen where he had automatically raised it into the air, as if to cup Soonyoung’s face. His laptop perches precariously on his lap, right where it had been when he told Soonyoung he was finally done. And Soonyoung’s laptop—where he had been studying for his geography exam, the entire purpose of having Soonyoung over—Wonwoo belatedly realizes it has been shoved aside on the couch.
To make room for them both, Wonwoo thinks faintly.
“Sorry,” says Soonyoung. His eyes flit away, mouth pursed. He chews on his nail, a nervous habit since childhood.
Wonwoo scrambles for something to say. It’s okay? He liked it? That he’s been thinking about Soonyoung in more ways than one ever since they met up again, and that he’s been afraid— of what, Wonwoo doesn’t know, but just too afraid to do anything more, say more.
But all he can think about is the warmth of Soonyoung’s body where he sits just a couple centimetres away. He’s still looking away from Wonwoo. But beyond that, Soonyoung’s soft—hair mussed, his face still a little puffy from the nap he took in Wonwoo’s bed earlier when he had come over just after his work shift, his lips bitten red. Wonwoo’s ears fixate on the sound of his soft breathing, the slow rise and fall of his chest, and the rosy blush making its way up his neck.
Wonwoo can’t help his mind from flashing back to the last time he had seen Soonyoung like this. Flustered. Shy. A little eager.
“Soonyoung,” Wonwoo says, and then hesitates. He doesn’t know what else to say, and when Soonyoung meets his eyes again, the slightest glimmer of hope in his expression and a pout working its way onto his lips, there’s only one thing Wonwoo wants to do.
He leans forward and kisses him.
This time, it’s Soonyoung who lets out a surprised laugh, his huff of breath is a wisp of warmth against Wonwoo’s lips. Just as he’s about to pull away, Soonyoung’s hands slide up his thigh, hot through the material of his sweatpants and far too close to his dick, and deepens the kiss. It’s not hard to ignore the flutter in his belly as warmth curls in Wonwoo’s gut. Wonwoo traces along the welcome curve of Soonyoung’s lips, suckles on his tongue when he lets Wonwoo in.
With Soonyoung pressed against him like this, Wonwoo admits to himself that he’s wanted to kiss him since the moment he saw him again. Maybe longer. Wonwoo doesn’t know—doesn’t linger—because in the next second, Soonyoung gets up and climbs into Wonwoo’s lap. He spreads his legs on either side of Wonwoo’s waist, settling onto the top of his thighs, all without breaking the kiss.
This time, he doesn’t have the exhilaration of a nightclub hookup and the thrill of alcohol to blame. There’s only himself, and Soonyoung, and the way Soonyoung sighs into his mouth and grinds down on his lap. And this time—unlike the night they had before—Wonwoo can see Soonyoung clearly. Without the haze of alcohol or the blurriness of night. Just him.
The room seems to rise in temperature. His dick has clearly gotten the memo and Wonwoo would be more embarrassed about the way his cock presses against his sweatpants if he couldn’t feel Soonyoung’s arousal as well.
“Soonyoung,” Wonwoo murmurs again, like his name is the only language he can speak. He can’t help himself from pressing kisses down the arch of Soonyoung’s neck, blood rushing down to his arousal when Soonyoung lets out a breathy moan. Wonwoo nips at the base of his neck and lingers at the soft, sensitive skin there. He thinks about biting him.
“Tell me.” Soonyoung’s hand slides up the back of Wonwoo’s neck, cups the back of his head, and tugs at his hair. Sparks of sensation tingle up and down Wonwoo’s spine. He moans and nips a little harder, pleasure curling in his gut when Soonyoung shudders underneath him. “Do you want me?”
“I want you,” Wonwoo admits. His voice comes out raspy, his breath hot on Soonyoung’s neck. His gums ache with the desire to bite down, to draw blood. But he can’t. Wonwoo chases after Soonyoung’s lips instead, an easy distraction when Soonyoung is so soft and so pliant. “I want you.”
Soonyoung laughs, but it’s a pleased sound. He lets himself be kissed. Then, he pulls back, a glint in his half-lidded eyes and he slides off Wonwoo’s thigh. Without breaking eye contact, he drops to the floor.
Wonwoo chokes out a breath when Soonyoung flattens his hands and slides them up Wonwoo’s thighs, grazing over his tented arousal with a teasing touch. His fingers come to rest on the waistband of his sweatpants. A smile plays at the corner of Soonyoung’s lips—and that’s all the warning Wonwoo gets before Soonyoung bends his head and presses a kiss against the fabric where his dick is tenting his pants. His hips twitch when Soonyoung drags his tongue across the material and moans as if he has a mouth full of dick instead of fabric. It should be silly—but Wonwoo is weak against the face of someone who wants him so clearly.
Especially when that someone is Soonyoung.
Luckily, Soonyoung doesn’t tease him much longer. He slides his hands underneath the waistband of Wonwoo’s sweatpants and with Wonwoo’s help, he tugs his pants and boxers down until they pool around his feet. Wonwoo watches with bated breath as a self-satisfied smile makes its way to Soonyoung’s face. He pauses to just stare at Wonwoo’s cock for a few moments, and the intensity of his gaze makes Wonwoo want to squirm a little.
“Nice,” Soonyoung says, as if commenting on something mundane—like a particularly nice painting, or one of Wonwoo’s numerous pentakills in Valorant—rather than his dick. Embarrassingly, it has a similar effect on Wonwoo. He shivers, and swallows down a moan.
Soonyoung starts to stroke, agonizingly slow from base to tip, watching with half-lidded eyes as a bead of precum rolls down Wonwoo’s shaft. Wonwoo tenses the muscles in his thighs against the urge to buck into Soonyoung’s hands—a useless effort when Soonyoung immediately wraps his lips around the head, shiny with a drop of precum leaking from the tip. He rubs his tongue along the underside of Wonwoo’s cock like it’s his favourite treat.
Wonwoo’s head falls back on the couch when Soonyoung takes him deeper. He exhales, shaky.
One hand comes up to muffle the moans from escaping from his mouth as Soonyoung grabs his hips to steady him, bobbing his head as he works his tongue around the crown. He thinks he sees Soonyoung smiling around his dick—and fuck, what an image that is to behold—but his eyes fall shut as Soonyoung swallows around him. Wonwoo jerks in his mouth.
“Holy—” Wonwoo moans, his hips twitching forward again. Wonwoo’s other hand slides up to Soonyoung’s hair and he tangles his finger in the mussed strands. Not pulling, just holding. “What the fuck— Soonyoung—”
Soonyoung pulls off Wonwoo's cock. “Am I good?” He gazes upwards at Wonwoo with half-lidded eyes, and uses his thumb to tease at the slit before he pulls back and taps the head of Wonwoo’s cock against his plush bottom lip.
It draws a gasp from Wonwoo, his hips lifting into Soonyoung’s mouth. “Yeah,” he rasps out, just as Soonyoung leans forward slowly, letting Wonwoo’s cock drag along Soonyoung’s tongue before he pulls back again.
Soonyoung’s hot breath fans over his sensitive length. “I am?” He lifts Wonwoo’s cock so he can lick down the underside of it.
“Oh, fuck.” Wonwoo’s hand tightens in Soonyoung’s hair. His other hand falls from his mouth and back down to the couch to grip at the cushion, his breath quickening as Soonyoung takes him back into his mouth. His entire body shudders as Soonyoung bobs his head, lips tight and cheeks hollowed, a light sheen of sweat beading across his forehead and temple as he works Wonwoo’s cock.
It’s difficult to keep himself from bucking into the warm, wet heat of Soonyoung’s mouth. He flexes his thighs in an attempt to stop himself from shifting forward, and Soonyoung’s grip on his hips barely helps when Soonyoung sucks him with messy, wild abandon. Saliva runs down his chin, his eyes closed as if experiencing unimagined bliss as he takes more and more of Wonwoo into his mouth, mouth stretching wide around his girth. The sight of Soonyoung unravelled, sloppy, and fucked out sends another tendril of heat through Wonwoo.
“I’m good, right?” Soonyoung’s voice is hoarse now. The sound of it burns Wonwoo like fire. He doesn’t wait for Wonwoo’s reply before he seals his mouth around Wonwoo’s length and sucks hard. He can feel when Soonyoung’s throat spasms as it hits the back of his throat, but Soonyoung only groans encouragingly at the feeling, his arm sneaking down and out of view as he takes himself into hand.
“I—fuck—” Wonwoo hisses out a moan when Soonyoung’s nose presses into his pubic hair for a few seconds before he pulls back, his tongue constantly working around his length. “Fuck— yeah, you’re good, so fucking good—”
And then Soonyoung makes this pleased, little noise as if that’s all he had ever wanted to hear from Wonwoo. His eyes flutter shut and his mouth drops open on a loud moan, muffled slightly by Wonwoo’s dick in his mouth—and then, Wonwoo realizes with a jolt of heat, Soonyoung comes.
That’s enough to send Wonwoo to the edge. His hips thrust harder, jerking erratically while Soonyoung continues to lick and suck at him. “Fuck,” Wonwoo moans, hand tightening on his hair. Soonyoung kneads coaxingly at his thigh as pleasure builds at the base of his spine. “Fuck, Soonyoung—”
And then he comes, spilling into Soonyoung’s mouth. At the last second, Soonyoung pulls off of Wonwoo’s dick as if to allow the come to drip down his mouth and onto his neck. Globs of white trail along the pale column of his throat and pools along his clavicle. It’s the hottest fucking thing Wonwoo has seen, and a searing pleasure rises inside of him, his cock twitching as if it’s got anything left to give.
Soonyoung’s pretty like this. Mouth swollen red, eyes filled with unshed tears, disheveled and splattered with Wonwoo’s release. He lets the pretenses fall away—they’d fallen away long ago, if Wonwoo’s being honest—and he tugs Soonyoung back up onto the couch.
“Come here,” Wonwoo says, his voice coming out a rasp, as he licks at the cum leaking out of Soonyoung’s lips in a sloppy kiss, and then the mess along his neck. And if he sucks a hickey into the base of Soonyoung’s throat with his teeth with the barest hint of fangs, he thinks he can’t be blamed. Not when Soonyoung is this hot, this strung out, this perfect.
He asks Soonyoung to stay over that night, which is how he finds Soonyoung the next day, still tangled in the sheets of the bed and the warmth of Wonwoo’s limbs around him. He’s all too aware of the warmth that blooms in his chest at the sight, but he can’t bring himself to pretend otherwise.
At least to himself.
Soonyoung doesn’t leave until the afternoon, and when he does, he returns home covered in hickies and bite marks.
🦇
Like many other aspects of his friendship with Soonyoung, this thing between them, too, falls easily into place as routine. They eat together, hang out quietly, and fuck. A lot.
Enough that one time that Mingyu comes over to cook for him, he wrinkles his nose and sends Wonwoo a withering look. “You know we have sensitive noses,” he whines a little, and sprays an alarming amount of Febreze all over Wonwoo’s apartment. “And I’m telling Seokmin you’re fucking his friend.”
Wonwoo can’t defend himself. The night before, Wonwoo had bent Soonyoung against the kitchen counter and fucked him so hard that both their legs trembled when they came.
“He was my friend first,” Wonwoo grumbles, but falls silent because, well, he’s damned himself once again, hasn’t he?
“So he knows now?” Mingyu gestures with two fingers pointed downwards in front of his mouth to signal fangs. “You finally told him?”
Wonwoo doesn’t respond at first, instead electing to bury his nose back in the MOBA he’s playing on his phone. The distraction doesn’t work and he puts up with Mingyu’s huffy sigh. The werewolf turns back to the stove anyway, so Wonwoo promptly decides it’s not worth clarifying.
It’s true. He hasn’t told Soonyoung that he’s a vampire yet. Wonwoo knows he should. It’s a pretty big secret to hide from him, and though vampirism still continues to scare a good chunk of humanity off still, he knows Soonyoung isn’t one of them. Soonyoung had offhandedly mentioned meeting up with a vampiric ex-boyfriend who had come to town for the weekend—apparently he co-owns some cow blood farm with a childhood friend in a rural town not too far from Seoul—just a couple weeks ago. The thought still makes jealousy stew in his gut a little.
The only placating thought is that he returns with his neck bare and smooth, no bite marks in sight.
So Soonyoung is fine with dating vampires. All obstacles gone—or they should be.
Except Wonwoo can never seem to find the right timing for it. It doesn’t feel right to bring it up when they’re hanging out as friends. And it’s often the last thing on his mind when he’s pushing himself into Soonyoung’s tight heat, with Soonyoung gasping and writhing in his arms. By the time they’re finished, Wonwoo just— just wants to hold Soonyoung.
It’s a conversation that feels bigger than they currently can be. Something doesn’t sit right with him, the thought that Wonwoo would drop such an important piece of information without the adequate weight placed on it. Soonyoung deserves better than for something like that to be thrown casually into conversation, or in the quiet, intimate moments they spend together, as if it’s something insignificant between the two.
And that just begs the question: how significant would it be, really, when neither of them have addressed what they’re doing together?
Soonyoung dropped into his life as easily as he had dropped out of it when they were sixteen. This—thing—started between them as smoothly as it could end.
Is it worth it? Is it worth it for Wonwoo to invest himself into it?
Invest in them?
🦇
But if there’s one thing that Wonwoo should have come to expect from Soonyoung, it’s that he will always surprise him.
🦇
Wonwoo kneels between Soonyoung’s legs. His underwear have long been discarded somewhere on Wonwoo’s bedroom floor, and he’s been left in nothing but an oversized shirt of Wonwoo’s that he slept in the night before.
The shirt-wearing is a habit Soonyoung’s picked up recently, to Wonwoo’s delight. The sight is always overwhelming to him, even if it’s been nearly two months since they’ve started their thing and none of it should be new anymore—but as with getting to know Soonyoung again as an adult, there are parts to him that Wonwoo’s pleasantly delighted to become intimate with.
His legs, long and muscular and elegant, is one of them. A dancer’s legs. Soonyoung’s shaved again today, even though Wonwoo has never minded either way. Still, there’s something endearing about Soonyoung wanting to look pretty for Wonwoo that makes affection curl in his stomach. He presses a kiss against the smoothness of Soonyoung’s inner thighs, and delights from the little tremor he feels in response.
“You’re like a dog with a chew toy,” Soonyoung grumbles. Despite his words, his thighs flex and hold Wonwoo’s body in place.
Wrong species, Wonwoo wants to tell him, but instead, he focuses his attention back to Soonyoung’s legs. He wraps a hand around Soonyoung’s right ankle, paying attention to the hitch in Soonyoung’s breath as he gently raises his leg into the air, and then presses a whisper-soft kiss against the jut of bone. Wonwoo always starts there. It feels like he’s unwrapping a present.
Soonyoung usually gets impatient, but surprisingly, today he holds himself still or Wonwoo. There’s a heavy, heated look in his eyes that sends sparks tingling up and down Wonwoo’s spine. Having Soonyoung’s eyes on him feels like an honour and Wonwoo does not want to disappoint.
He slides his hands up Soonyoung’s legs, with brief pauses only to press a trail of kisses against his skin until he reaches his inner thighs. There’s a small mole that’s right at the join of his thigh and his hip, and Wonwoo makes sure to pay extra attention with a kiss there as well. Like always, it makes Soonyoung squirm and his hands come up to rest on Wonwoo’s shoulders, like he needs to hold him there just for support.
This close to Soonyoung’s skin, Wonwoo always feels a little ravenous. His eyes flit up to catch Soonyoung’s intense gaze on him. Without breaking eye contact, he leans forward and worries his teeth at the tender skin of his inner thigh. When Soonyoung lets out a hiss of breath, Wonwoo closes his mouth over the reddened mark he had just left, sucking gently in a mimicry of a kiss.
The fingers tighten their grip on his shoulders. Soonyoung’s thighs tremble.
Wonwoo turns to the opposite thigh and lays his cheek against Soonyoung’s soft skin, dragging his nose against the curve and flex of his muscles until he’s right over Soonyoung’s left femoral artery. This time, it’s Wonwoo who has to let out a shaky breath. Soonyoung smells the sweetest here, the most decadent, and Wonwoo aches to dig his fangs in.
Instead, Wonwoo strokes a hand over Soonyoung’s thigh, right over that delectable little patch of skin, his thumbs digging into the flesh and squeezing hard. He folds Soonyoung’s leg until his knees are hooked over his shoulder. He smiles when Soonyoung makes a small sound of embarrassment, his face flushing at the way Wonwoo spreads him wide, but Soonyoung’s eagerness is betrayed by the way he moves his hands off Wonwoo shoulders to instead grip at Wonwoo’s bedsheets like an anchor.
LIke this, Wonwoo has better access to the soft skin of Soonyoung’s inner thighs. He leans down to suck gently over the spot where he would have bitten him. He smiles against Soonyoung’s skin when he feels Soonyoung’s thigh jump underneath Wonwoo’s lips. It’s cute, Soonyoung is always cute to him, and the breathless moan that Soonyoung lets out in his next breath goes straight to Wonwoo’s dick. When he looks up, Soonyoung’s already leaking precum onto his belly. He’s also watching Wonwoo intently, his eyes dark. Like he’s waiting for something.
Usually by now, he’d be demanding Wonwoo to do something already. Do more. It’s part of why Wonwoo likes to take his time—there’s something deeply satisfying in seeing Soonyoung want him so badly, enough that he’d whine or beg or even sulk. A reminder that Soonyoung can’t get enough of him, just like Wonwoo can’t seem to get his fill of Soonyoung.
But Wonwoo doesn’t know what Soonyoung is thinking, and he rarely ever does. He keeps their gaze connected as he runs a flattened tongue over the faint mark he sucked into Soonyoung’s thigh, all the while grabbing the bottle of lube he left on the bed next to them.
He kisses over the patch of skin again, his hand sneaking between Soonyoung’s spread legs to circle his rim. It draws another breathless moan from Soonyoung. Precum leaks from the slit of Soonyoung’s dick, his chest heaving with quickened breaths as he stares down at Wonwoo with a white-knuckled grip on the bed.
He works Soonyoung open like that, with his mouth on Soonyoung’s thigh and nipping bruises and softer kisses into Soonyoung’s smooth skin right over where Wonwoo would bite him most, if he could. Soonyoung’s little gasps turn into mewls as he grinds down onto Wonwoo’s fingers. He’s quieter than normal today, something that Wonwoo isn’t sure whether he should be concerned about, but Soonyoung’s eyes are intense, rapturous, dark with desire.
“Look at you,” Wonwoo says, unable to keep his awe out of his voice, his eyes never once leaving Soonyoung’s face. There’s a sweet, little blush spread across Soonyoung’s cheeks as he makes small, hiccuping noises and broken moans. His hips chase after the thrust of Wonwoo’s digits where he’s dripping with lube, his hole tight and hot around his fingers.
“Wonwoo-yah,” Soonyoung says—and there’s something there, something in the tone of his voice that makes Wonwoo pause and his fingers still. He waits as Soonyoung bites down on his bottom lip, and for a moment, Wonwoo thinks he’s going to say something. But he only shakes his head. One of Soonyoung’s hand comes up to wrap around his own length, but then he doesn’t move, as if he’s waiting for Wonwoo. “Give it to me, Wonwoo-yah. Come on.”
Wonwoo obliges—he wants to, has to, when Soonyoung looks so sweet and needy for him like that. He pulls his fingers out and rests his cheek against Soonyoung’s thigh where it’s still clamped around Wonwoo’s ears, as Wonwoo rips open a condom packet.
As soon as Wonwoo rolls the condom down himself, though, Soonyoung huffs out an impatient breath and pushes Wonwoo down until he’s flat on his back. He flips their positions, straddling Wonwoo so that he’s on top instead. His oversized shirt falls loosely around his neck, revealing the slender peek of his shoulder. Wonwoo’s mouth waters at the sight.
He wonders what it says about himself when his dick twitches at the petulant look that Soonyoung slides down at him.
“I said to give it to me,” Soonyoung says, but this time, he sounds upset. He squirms a little from his position on top of Wonwoo, his cock bobbing from the movement. They’re both still hard, but the change in the tone of his voice sends a cold chill down Wonwoo’s spine and he immediately cranes upwards, his heart skipping into a rapid pace when he catches the frustrated expression on Soonyoung’s face.
“What?” Wonwoo hurries to say, bewildered. “What’s wrong?”
He tries to smooth a hand down Soonyoung’s flank in a comforting gesture but Soonyoung lets out another wriggle and a whine. It startles him, and Wonwoo snatches his hand away out of fear that he’s accidentally hurt him.
“I thought—” Soonyoung starts out, and he squirms again, tilting his head a little. His shoulder drops, revealing more of the bare skin of his neck and shoulder. While Wonwoo would normally be immediately a few seconds from jizzing himself just from the coy display of the areas of skin that he’s drawn to most, all he can focus on is the unhappy look on Soonyoung’s features. Soonyoung pouts down at him and then, in a tiny voice, he says: “I thought you liked me.”
Wonwoo freezes. His heart leaps into his throat. They haven’t had this conversation before and Wonwoo hadn’t been sure if they ever would. His stomach churns with guilt, that Soonyoung had to be the brave one to say it outloud. He steals in a deep breath against his nerves.
Wonwoo decides to be brave too.
“I do,” he manages, “I like you. A lot.” His fingers flex against the nothingness of air. His words are lacking. There’s still something he needs to tell Soonyoung—
“I thought so,” Soonyoung says grumpily, and before Wonwoo can wrap his reeling head around Soonyoung’s response—or lack thereof—Soonyoung continues. “Then why haven’t you bitten me yet?”
“What?” Wonwoo stares at him, certain that he’s heard wrong. His heart pounds in his chest. Soonyoung only stares back, though, his gaze hard. “Huh?”
“Why haven’t you bitten me yet?” Soonyoung says, his words bursting with impatience from his lips in one quick breath. “You know, like—” and then he bares his teeth a little, as if to signal fangs, except he mostly looks like a baby kitten. In spite of the dual shock and horror mounting inside of him, Wonwoo still melts internally at the sight. “Don’t you want to suck my blood?”
That catches his attention again. Wonwoo gapes at him. His head swims, his brain unable to process any of Soonyoung’s words. It feels like he’s got hit over the head and then steamrolled as soon as he’s grabbed at the barest wisp of bearings, and he can hardly think. “You— you know?”
Soonyoung frowns at him. “Huh? Did you forget that we were friends when you were sixteen?” He pokes his finger at Wonwoo’s chest, and then pauses, seemingly getting distracted as his hand drifts over the muscle of his pec before he snaps back to attention. “So, what is it? Do I smell bad? Do you not want to drink my blood? I’ve been— I’ve been wearing your shirts and putting on slutty shorts to show off my thighs— I’ve practiced my best angles to show off my neck— I even asked Jeonghannie-hyung for advice—”
“Wait,” Wonwoo interrupts. He stamps down on the ugly jealousy that spikes through him at Soonyoung’s vampire ex’s name. Wonwoo sits up and holds Soonyoung by his waist so that he doesn’t slide off from the sudden shift in movement, and then forces himself to ignore Soonyoung’s hungry gaze as he watches the flex of Wonwoo’s abs in doing so. “Wait— you know I’m a vampire?”
Soonyoung stares at him like he’s lost his head. “Are you not listening?” he demands, bouncing a little in Wonwoo’s lap. Wonwoo bites back a groan. They’re both still hard. “Hello? I was there, remember? I went to your house and everything.” He gives Wonwoo a pointed look, just in case he still doesn’t understand. “You know. Your inheritance.”
Suddenly, Wonwoo confronts the fact that he has to rewrite the history of the past six years in his head. Soonyoung knows. Soonyoung had always known. All this time, even before they reunited again. He’s always known—and he likes Wonwoo.
“Huh,” Wonwoo says dazedly. His hands drift back down to Soonyoung thighs and he kneads the meat of his thighs while he thinks. “I thought you didn’t know. This entire time, I thought—” Except Wonwoo doesn’t know what he thought, except that he was scared. “I didn’t know,” he finishes lamely.
Soonyoung’s thighs tense and flex under his hands. He studies Wonwoo for a few moments before he seems to soften. Maybe he’s always been better at understanding Wonwoo than Wonwoo is of him. “You really didn’t know?” he says in a small voice.
He shakes his head. His thumb rubs slow, small circles into the soft skin of Soonyoung’s inner thighs. “I was—” he swallows, and tries again to be brave, “I thought you’d be scared of me, or of being with me, I think. I didn’t know.”
Soonyoung lets out a little moan as he arches into Wonwoo’s touch. He shifts closer to Wonwoo, his cock pressing against Wonwoo’s length. “Then you do want to bite me?”
He knows Soonyoung can feel it when Wonwoo’s dick twitches because Soonyoung grinds imperceptibly against him. “You don’t know how much.”
Soonyoung kisses him, then. Soft, sweet, and gentle. He nips punishingly at Wonwoo’s lips, but then moans loudly when Wonwoo nips him back. They stay like that for a few moments, exchanging kisses that grow dirtier, sloppier with each passing second, until Soonyoung pulls himself away. His eyes fall half-lidded. “Do it.”
Balancing himself with a hand on top of Wonwoo’s broad shoulders, Soonyoung rises up halfway on his knees and reaches behind himself to wrap a hand around Wonwoo’s length. The sudden touch has Wonwoo swearing under his breath, his hands automatically finding purchase on Soonyoung’s hips.
And then Soonyoung lines himself up and sinks down onto Wonwoo’s cock in one slow, deep motion.
“Fuck!” Wonwoo grits his teeth, his fingers digging bruises into the softness of Soonyoung’s hips at the sudden tight heat clamping around his dick. He doesn’t dare to take his eyes off of Soonyoung’s face as Soonyoung moans aloud, his head thrown back in pleasure until he’s sitting down on the tops of Wonwoo’s thighs.
Wonwoo wants to savour each and every expression on his face.
He doesn’t give Wonwoo or himself any time to adjust before he lifts up on his knees and drives his weight back down. Wonwoo lets out a cry at the unexpected onslaught of sensation and pleasure, his fingers tightening around Soonyoung’s hips. “Oh— fuck—”
Soonyoung grins at him in between moans and gasps as Wonwoo’s cock twitches and throbs inside him. He clings to Soonyoung as Soonyoung bounces in his lap, rocking down onto his cock all the while moaning like Wonwoo’s the only fucking one who can bring him this pleasure pleasure. He’s making so much noise, little moans and gasps, that Wonwoo’s own laboured breathing is nearly inaudible as he fucks into the tight, wet clutch of Soonyoung.
He keeps his eyes open, unwilling to miss even the barest second of Soonyoung’s pleasure. It’s only by chance that he catches sight of their reflection in Wonwoo’s window where it faces the foot of bed, and the sight nearly unravels him into a quick release before he reigns himself back in.
In the window, Wonwoo is invisible. He doesn’t usually think about it, not when he’s used to the lack of reflection in mirrors. But he’s never thought about it during sex before, neither with Soonyoung nor any of his former partners.
It does nothing to prepare himself for the sight of Soonyoung, his arms tangled around Wonwoo’s neck, his legs spread wide across Wonwoo’s lap, his hole stretched wide open and clinging around the thick girth of Wonwoo’s dick. But in their reflection, Wonwoo is an invisible partner.
He stares, entranced, his eyes dragging along the shape of Soonyoung’s body and back down to his hole, stretched open, puffy and red and utterly fucked out. It looks like Soonyoung’s taking mindless pleasure from someone— something— nothing.
It’s the hottest fucking thing Wonwoo has seen.
There’s something terribly, beautifully obscene at the sight. His dick pulses, drawing another beautiful moan from Soonyoung as Wonwoo grinds harder up into him. He can’t tear his eyes away from the image of Soonyoung driving himself down onto Wonwoo’s cock, his back arched as he finds the right angle, his cries softening into desperate mewls that stoke the burning fire in Wonwoo’s belly.
“Holy fuck,” he can’t but gasp outloud when Soonyoung clenches around him—clenches around nothing—in their fucking reflection. He nearly comes right then and there. He clutches desperately at Soonyoung’s waist and fucks into him with short, hard thrusts.
The broken quality in his voice seems to attract Soonyoung’s attention, or maybe he just has a sixth sense for Wonwoo, because Soonyoung follows Wonwoo’s gaze and cranes to look behind him.
“Oh—” Soonyoung gasps, his body tensing in overwhelmed shock as his eyes land on their— his— reflection in the window. “Holy fuck.” And then, in a higher pitched voice, he repeats it: “Holy fuck. Is that— is that normal— what the fu— uck—”
“Shit, yeah,” Wonwoo grits out. He thrusts into Soonyoung’s heat. In the window, Soonyoung’s thighs jiggle from the force of his thrusts.
“Oh my god,” Soonyoung gasps out, his syllables coming out broken. His fingers tangle immediately in Wonwoo’s hair and he tugs at the strands. “How the fuck is that so hot, oh fuck—” His moan turns into a desperate wail. He fucks back down onto Wonwoo, his legs quivering as he searches for more. The way his hole clamps down tight in a vice grip around Wonwoo’s length sends something deep and primal through Wonwoo. Soonyoung’s toes curl. “Oh—fuck, fuck—”
Wonwoo savours the way Soonyoung clings to him, his moans increasing in pitch as he drives himself down onto Wonwoo’s cock in greedily, sloppy movements. He meets Soonyoung’s eyes through the reflection—except Soonyoung can’t see him, can he?—and that realization only burns the heat inside of him brighter.
“Wonwoo, ah— ahn—” Soonyoung twists his hips, his eyes fixated on their window reflection. “Fuck— now, now— bite me, ah.”
It’s a shame he can’t keep his eyes on Soonyoung like this, but it’s worth it when Wonwoo buries his face in Soonyoung’s neck, tugging at his shirt collar until he can scrape his teeth over the skin stretched thin over his Adam’s apple. Soonyoung whines high in his throat as Wonwoo latches onto the thin underside of his neck, still rocking down on his lap and moaning desperately, as he nuzzles and sucks bruises down Soonyoung’s neck until he lands over the external carotid artery.
He only presses a kiss there, but then moves further down his neck, closer to his shoulder. Wonwoo doesn’t want to risk hurting Soonyoung. He gives him another kiss there, too, when Soonyoung lets out an impatient whine.
For the first time since he’s been with Soonyoung, he finally, finally lets his fangs out. The sensation of it is cathartic, relieving, and he groans with the mixed pleasure of no longer having to hold back, and Soonyoung clenching tight around him. He drags his nose over the soft patch of skin, taking in deep breaths of Soonyoung’s scent.
“Wonwoo, now—”
He bites down. The hot, metallic burst of blood hits his tongue and Wonwoo swallows it down greedily, savouring the sweet taste of Soonyoung. In his arms, Soonyoung tenses, shudders, and with a wail, a thin scream escaping from his chest, he comes on Wonwoo’s cock and Wonwoo’s fangs.
If he had felt hot before, it’s nothing against the rush of heat that spreads throughout his body the moment he bites into Soonyoung. In his lap, Soonyoung trembles, airy moans caught in his throat. His heart races with pure adrenaline and desire and he drinks from Soonyoung, assuaging the bite with soothing laps of his tongue, alternating with tiny nips and bites.
Wonwoo might have felt sorry for his neighbours if he were anything close to coherent. Neither him nor Soonyoung are being quiet at this point, and the sound of the mattress creaking and the headboard banging against the wall is nearly deafening. But his mind is filled with nothing but Soonyoung, lost in the sensations of them together.
“Wonwoo.” Soonyoung clutches him closer.
He can’t focus on anything but Soonyoung. He laps at the pinprick bite marks in Soonyoung’s neck as he grinds his cock inside of him. Wonwoo moans, breathless and increasingly desperate. His other hand drifts up to play with Soonyoung’s nipple as he sucks his neck, eliciting another tremor and breathless gasp from Soonyoung, until the buds are peaked and stiff, sensitive and red from abuse. He tugs on them at the same time he thrusts into Soonyoung’s prostate, punctuated with the pinprick of his teeth as he drinks from Soonyoung as gently as he can.
The onslaught of sensations make Soonyoung go wild. Soonyoug cries out, sobbing loudly as he seizes around Wonwoo’s cock, writhing and crying as Wonwoo fucks him, pinches his sensitive nipples, licking over the sluggishly bleeding wound on his neck.
“Wonwoo—” Soonyoung moans, “Wonwoo.”
The needy sounds of Soonyoung gasping for air makes Wonwoo feel insane too. Between them, Soonyoung’s cock is still leaking steadily all over their bellies despite having already come. His own cock feels oversensitive, and it’s to Soonyoung’s wanton sounds and the taste of his blood on his tongue that Wonwoo drives himself over the brink of orgasm. And when he finally comes, Wonwoo nearly blacks out from the force of his pleasure.
🦇
“I’m mad at you,” Soonyoung says dreamily, some time later, from where he’s laying on top of Wonwoo’s chest. He burrows himself deeper into Wonwoo’s arms. “You’re stupid.”
Maybe Wonwoo would be more offended if Soonyoung didn’t look extremely satisfied and blissed out. Instead, he feels pride filling his heart as he takes in the lax, fucked out features of Soonyoung’s face. His cheek is squished against Wonwoo’s pec and he resists the urge to bite him in the face again. “Why?” he asks instead, opting to take the bait.
“We could’ve been doing that earlier,” Soonyoung murmurs sleepily. His eyes fall close. “You’re a dummy.”
And then Soonyoung shuffles sideways, until his nose bumps against Wonwoo’s bicep. Wonwoo watches fondly as Soonyoung stretches his mouth wide open, and then closes down to chomp on Wonwoo’s arm. It doesn’t hurt at all. Rather, Soonyoung reminds him yet again of a kitten.
“Yeah,” Wonwoo says indulgently. He smooths back Soonyoung’s hair once Soonyoung’s settles back down on Wonwoo’s chest, electing instead to bite sleepily at his pectoral muscle. Wonwoo wonders whether he should ask Soonyoung if he has a thing for that, but that can wait. He should let Soonyoung rest. “Yeah, I’m your dummy.”
He thinks Soonyoung has fallen asleep, and is just about to drift off himself when Soonyoung speaks again, his voice a sleepy murmur. “Next time, we’re fucking with a mirror in front of us.”