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If only Yeonjun was bad at something he did. Crocheting. Puzzle. The Rubik's cube. Basketball. Talking to the cashier at McDonald's.
Anything.
But of course he isn't . He puts his mind to something, learns it as fast as it is humanly possible, then does it like it was meant for him to always do it. There is not a single thing he can't do, and it drives Beomgyu crazy. It does, because when Beomgyu wanted to learn Japanese, Yeonjun had the nerve to join the class and become the teacher's favourite student in just one day. When Beomgyu decided to take up basketball to get out of P.E, Yeonjun was already on the court, playing with the coach like he had played his whole life. That was apparently also his first day. Even the calligraphy class Beomgyu tried out for no fucking reason had Yeonjun there, like an annoying piece of gum stuck to his shoes, always there, always present. Hard to get rid of.
And he wasn't even sure if he wanted to get rid of Yeonjun at this point. There was simply nothing exciting about college in his second year, –Yeonjun just had to choose the same college before him, of course – and if it wasn't for him, Beomgyu would've died out of boredom. He was fun to annoy, fun to throw insults at, and generally fun to look at.
Yeonjun was at least there. It made life interesting, in a way that he didn't really understand but wasn't against it. It made Beomgyu grow his hair out and dress better, it made him try to be even prettier , because the fact that Yeonjun never once looked at him during high school, other than to roll his eyes at him, was offensive . Beomgyu wasn't as full of himself as Yeonjun was, no, he just knew people talk behind his back and get jealous when their boyfriends glance his way, and for Yeonjun to never even try to flirt? Unacceptable.
The only time he paid attention to him in high school was when Beomgyu annoyed the hell out of him, trying to get under his skin as much as possible with anything . Calling him out on how he only got 99 points in a spelling test back in 10th grade, telling him his jeans are dirty when it really wasn't, calling him a loser when he missed his shot at practice. Calling him ugly. That was the lowest point, and even Yeonjun looked at him like he wasn't sure whether to laugh or frown. He was so fucking confident and unnecessarily hot that it bothered Beomgyu, and it made sense.
It made sense and people didn't even question if he had a crush on Yeonjun. It was obvious to everyone but him that he just suffered from the teenage boy crush phenomenon, when his mouth immediately formed snarky words when Yeonjun was close. And he was always close.
It made sense, but it also didn't. Beomgyu could've sworn he had no interest in the pretty, tall boy a grade above him. He could've sworn he just simply hated him for being perfect when people should not be perfect, he hated him for being better than him at everything. He hated him because he was kind. Kind to everyone, sweet words and gentle touches and ' Oh, let me help you with homework. ' Like he wasn't some kind of celebrity or national treasure with that face. And body. Beomgyu really fucking hated him.
Beomgyu has no idea if Yeonjun knew what people said about the two of them. Maybe he doesn't know, maybe he always knew, even from the start and always found it hilarious. ' Beomgyu is being witty again, he is falling in love with Yeonjun.'
Beomgyu didn't really want it to be true. He was 15 then 16 and it never went away, that itchy feeling in his throat when Yeonjun pushed his sweaty hair out of his face, when he pulled his shirt over his head in the changing room. Then Yeonjun graduated when Beomgyu was 17, and he was left with some kind of fucking void like the older boy broke up with him, and he thought his infatuation ended the moment he stopped seeing him.
He just had to go to the same college as Yeonjun. Like some kind of fucking joke. There, 18 and ready to live , and he sees him again? Again? They had mutual friends, Yeonjun definitely knew Beomgyu's obsession with that particular college, there was no way he didn't know the two of them would meet again, eventually.
"Soobin, there are no other explanations, Yeonjun wants me to go crazy!"
"No, Beomgyu, he doesn't. You are just obsessed with him."
It got less obvious that he held a grudge when he enrolled, sure, but it didn't go away.
Beomgyu still scoffed when Yeonjun was being obnoxiously loud with that attractive sound of laughter, he still rolled his eyes whenever the older boy offered him help. It was his nice of him, yes , Beomgyu was struggling and fighting demons trying to understand an assignment and Yeonjun was insanely smart in literature, but he didn't have to smile at him while correcting his mistakes.
They didn't greet each other when it was just the two of them, and didn't exchange a single word when their friends thought it would be fun to hang out all together when Beomgyu was in his second year. Soobin was a snake and never told him Yeonjun would be there, and he had to endure all those suggestive eyebrow raises from Wooyoung and Changbin when Beomgyu accidentally looked at Yeonjun for a minute too long. He wasn't forced to go, per say, but if he left, he wouldn't have heard the end of it, all that 'Oh, you're still madly in love with him?' And ' It's okay to confess, you know?' From the whole group. They didn't even attend the same college, why did they have to be up in his ass every weekend?
Which is why he is trying his damn hardest now to not look his way at the bar everyone in a 50 mile radius goes to on Friday and Saturday nights, trying to lessen the stress of growing up and studying. He likes these nights, he always did, but every now and then everyone in their friend group came together for a made up celebration, and this night was one of those. All of Yeonjun's friends Beomgyu never learned the names of, all their shared friends, fucking Wooyoung and Changbin and Soobin, the three hell sent soldiers always on a mission trying to get Beomgyu to realise something. Something he actually realised months ago, if not years, but wasn't ready to own up to it. He was 15 and now he's almost 20, he can't just accept it.
Beomgyu stopped hating him with a passion when Yeonjun graduated, but the ugly feeling in his stomach when he even just thinks about the other, or when he sees him on campus, having fun and growing into a man Beomgyu can't help but be attracted to, it's still there. It wasn't fair, actually, that he had to feel so insecure because Yeonjun was better .
The music is loud as ever and the cheap lights hanging from the ceiling, dangerously close to their heads are illuminating all that Yeonjun is, black shirt halfway unbuttoned and hair slicked back messily. Attractively. Fucking Yeonjun and his stupid, god-like visuals. It would be easier if the boy wasn't totally the kind of person Beomgyu usually thirsts over, if he was short or scrawny he wouldn't have this problem, but Yeonjun is a walking wet dream Beomgyu has, way too often.
He is supposed to relax tonight, he finished all his exams and he only has an assignment due next week, before he is finally done with the semester, but how is he supposed to do that when Yeonjun's presence is enormous, big enough to draw attention? There's nothing calming about it, how he can't even look away from him. Everyone is looking, some subtly, some not so much, Beomgyu isn't the only one. And Yeonjun hasn't even looked his way, once .
Is he not pretty enough to look at? Soobin told him Yeonjun likes dudes with long hair and he grew it out, like a pathetic tryhard to at least get a check out from Yeonjun, but the only time he commented on it was at the beginning of the semester. ' Your hair is messy, want me to help?' After he ran to class and sat down at the only available seat, next to him. Not even a ' It looks nice on you.' Or something, no, he had to make him feel stupid.
Is it the way he’s dressing? Wooyoung said that Yeonjun likes pretty cardigans. Beomgyu is sitting in a cardigan. What's not working, then?
Yeonjun steals a glance at him, right when Beomgyu still hasn't finished staring, and when their eyes meet, Beomgyu can hear his heartbeat in his ear. Neither of them can look away, and it's exhilarating. Beomgyu pretends to look at the drinks at his table, sitting there alone, like a loser. Soobin is still somewhere in the bathroom, likely with Taehyun. Or Huening Kai, Beomgyu can't keep up with him. They always leave him to hook up either with each other or some other people, regretting their decisions then making the same mistakes the next week, again. Beomgyu wishes he could at least go back to the time when he was waking up in different beds every other morning. When the thought of Yeonjun wasn't all consuming.
He already finished two shots when they arrived, and he's nursing the bar's special cocktail to his chest to cool down. It tastes like shit, but if Yeonjun continues messing with his head, he'll have to drink at least 5 of these to feel somewhat okay again. It's annoying and he wants to stomp on the ground like a child, go up to him and wipe that smirk off his face that never seems to go away. He isn't even sure if he hates Yeonjun for being perfect, or for him not seeing Beomgyu as perfect.
Yeonjun walks away from his friends, and a minute later Beomgyu finds the boy standing next to the table, looming over him. The possibilities are endless, they could get into a fight, Yeonjun can call him out on staring, they can get into a heated argument. But he can't think of a reason why he would stand there, the same smirk and the same expression that drives Beomgyu mad.
He gestures to the empty seat next to him, and Beomgyu nods before thinking. Yeonjun makes his way towards the seat and puts his own electric blue cocktail down the table a bit harshly.
"The Choi Beomgyu allowing me to sit down next to him?" Yeonjun sneers at the way Beomgyu rolls his eyes, scooting closer to the wall to give Yeonjun space to sit. The table bumps into his hip, shaking all the glasses standing on it. Is he drunk?
"Come on, it's not like we're enemies ." Beomgyu says, an unconvincing smile on his face. It almost looks like a frown, but that's the best he can do. They're definitely enemies.
Yeonjun smells so nice from up close, the scent making itself home in his nose and never letting him breathe normally, all he can feel is the expensive cologne and the fruity scent of their cocktails. He sits so gracefully next to him, and everything he does is elegant and perfect. Taking a sip with the straw with his lips curling around it prettily, catching a stray drop of blue, sticky liquid with his tongue. Beomgyu wants to know if the drink tastes the same from his mouth. There's that itchy feeling in his throat again, the butterflies filling up his stomach just like it happened in high school.
Why are they sitting together? What is Yeonjun trying to do, in a bar with all their friends watching them like hawks?
"Yeah, I didn't think so either. You just hate me for no reason." Oh, there it is. He wants to fight.
"I do not hate you." At least, from up close, Yeonjun looks human . He looks human and flawed but still so perfect that it doesn't make sense. His eyeshadow is creasing and his forehead is sweaty, but he looks ethereal.
Yeonjun looks him up then down, a quick move of his eyes that doesn't go unnoticed by Beomgyu. Did he just check him out?
"Ah, really?" Fuck him and his hot, condescending way of speaking. Fuck Yeonjun. Fuck him for making a zoo go wild in his stomach.
"You're not helping your case."
"What case, exactly?"
Beomgyu doesn't answer, picking on his nail polish until it looks trashy is way easier than paying any attention to the boy next to him, staring at his face like Beomgyu is worth looking at. He feels small under the gaze, burning into his skin and reminding him that he, too, looks flawed. Yeonjun can see that. He doesn't want him to look.
"Maybe if you weren't so caught up in your childish rage, we could've been friends. We liked the same things, had the same hobbies, and we even shared friends back then, too." He says with an indifferent tone, but his eyes stay on his face.
"Well, yeah, but–"
"But you were so into me it annoyed the fuck out of you. I know ." Now, this is rightfully annoying. Yeonjun should not be allowed to even open his gorgeous, pouty and plump mouth.
"I wasn't! I'm allowed to dislike people, okay?"
"Sure. What do you dislike so much about me that you can't even look into my eyes?" That smirk will end him, Beomgyu is sure it will. Only because he can't look into his eyes, it doesn't mean he can't stare anywhere else, and if his eyes happen to land on Yeonjun's lips all the time, it's not a big deal.
"Okay, you want to know?" Yeonjun nods, lowering his face until their eyes meet, and Beomgyu has to remind himself to breathe. "It's the way you're so …" Well, maybe he dug his own grave with his bare hands, because he doesn't fucking have an answer.
He spent years being sulky when Yeonjun just existed near him, there has to be an answer that isn't just ' Yeah, I was crushing on you and didn't know how to deal with it.'
"Come on, sweetheart, use your words." Yeonjun leans forward, his necklace falling on Beomgyu's arm. It feels heavy, cold. He wants to yank it.
"Fuck you." He grits out with a low voice, embarrassment creeping up his neck rapidly, heartbeat loud in his throat and ears. If he didn't hate Yeonjun before, now he definitely does.
"I'll fuck you if you ask nicely." Beomgyu's blood rushes to his face, colouring it a fiery red, making him feel so impossibly hot he has to turn his head away. Down. Up. Anywhere where he can't see any of him.
"Leave me alone." He says quietly, staring at his now empty glass in defeat. Why would he joke with him like that, if he knew about Beomgyu's feelings? If there are any feelings, in the first place. But there must be at least some , he isn't that stupid. And Yeonjun isn't stupid either, he has to know.
To his surprise, Yeonjun barks out a short laugh, humiliating him for the last time before walking away from the table with a shake of his head. What the fuck? Beomgyu can't help but look after him, how the hell should he recover from this? The Choi Yeonjun just committed the unforgivable crime of making Beomgyu feel shy.
Wait a fucking second.
Was Yeonjun flirting with him? He was totally flirting. Who the fuck says that without the intention to flirt?
And if he was, why does it make his stomach act up?
Beomgyu stands up faster than he should've, the alcohol making him dizzy and the world fades around the edges of his vision for a split second before he feels okay again. This is a bad idea. He shouldn't , but he speedwalks to the boy standing with a few of their friends, the same glass of cocktail resting in his hand like it's only there to make a statement, bright blue and ice cold.
Their friends all stare at Beomgyu like he went crazy, like they know whatever he's about to do will be worth spending the night here, like it's going to be a story to tell when they all sober up. There's no way people didn't notice the tension between the two of them in the last couple of years, how Beomgyu went quiet and sulky the moment Yeonjun entered the room, how he stopped being an asshole to him for no reason when they parted ways in high school. Their friends all know, and that makes it even more embarrassing when Yeonjun just looks at him, expecting something , that confident smile sitting on his face when he looks him up and down. Oh, fuck this.
"Kiss me."
"Getting some mixed signals here, I thought you wanted me to leave you alone?" His glass is now magically on the table next to them, and Beomgyu only notices the hands sneaking around his waist when fingers dig into his skin, almost painfully. When Beomgyu winces from the slight ache it leaves, Yeonjun feigns surprise with a gasp that sounds way too amused for anyone to believe. His eyes are so dark and it shines in the lighting, those dangerously beautiful, expressive eyes that Beomgyu always wanted on himself.
He squints his eyes accusingly, pushing the hand away until it rests on his hips. "Kiss me and then leave me alone." Beomgyu will have to work on sounding stern, if he ever wants to get the upper hand.
"How about this? I'll kiss you, you come home with me, I fuck the attitude out of you and then I'll leave you alone. If that's what you really want." But I doubt that is left unsaid, and Beomgyu doesn't have to hear it to know Yeonjun doesn't believe him, at all.
Beomgyu doesn't think an answer would be necessary when they both know he wants that, so he tilts his head up to meet Yeonjun halfway.
It's just as he expected, Yeonjun's hand is firm on his face to guide him and kiss him deeply, not allowing Beomgyu to have a say in it. It's fast paced and he can't keep up with the gentle biting and tugging and oh fuck, his tongue swiping across his lower lip does it for Beomgyu, he let's loose and gives up trying to lead. He made out with drunk people countless times before, but none of those were like this, this isn't uncoordinated and messy. It's like they've done it so many times that it's muscle memory. Where to bite, when to pull away, when to dive back in and where to tug, how hard and how firm.
The pineapple taste from their drinks is sweet and Beomgyu can taste it on his tongue, touching his. He wants to touch him, feel his body under his fingers, how his chest rises and falls when he breathes in and out, he wants to know if he has goosebumps on his skin like Beomgyu does.
He doesn't touch Yeonjun until he does, one hand still in place on his face and the other sliding down across his back, finding his waist again and digging in with his fingers. It hurts again, but it feels good too, sending shivers up his spine and the spark of pleasure travelling up his body from being held so firmly forces his hands to act on their own.
His palms rest on Yeonjun's chest, feeling his heartbeat, similar to his own. Erratic. One hand going up to his nape to bury his fingers into his tousled, black hair, the other sliding down to his stomach. Yeonjun smiles into the kiss and it breaks some kind of illusion, because Beomgyu realises they're still in the middle of a bar, between their friends. And they're making out.
"Still hate me?" Yeonjun's words are still having that edge to it, the one that makes Beomgyu feel stupid.
"I think I hate you even more." He can't bite back a snort when Yeonjun fakes a pout, like he was wounded by his words.
"Looks like I really have to take you home."
Beomgyu wants to make sure nobody hears them talking about sex, even if they will eventually see the two leave together, for obvious reasons. It's embarrassing to admit without words that they were right, he is into Yeonjun.
"How do you know if I want to fuck you?" He whispers into his mouth when Yeonjun leans in. A stupid tease, that's what he is.
There's not a sign of confusion on his face. "You don't?"
"I'm giving you a chance to make me not hate you."
"How generous."
The ride from the bar to his apartment is short, enough time to get completely worked up and turned on by the hands on his thigh. His grip is so tight he can feel bruises forming under his jeans as the two of them kiss in the backseat of the uber, like they can't get enough .
And it feels like that too, when Yeonjun breaks the kiss to put his key into the lock with an apologetic peck to his cheek. Beomgyu misses the feeling of his lips the second it leaves, he wants the hands around his neck, wants to hear Yeonjun groan in pleasure when Beomgyu sucks a mark on his throat, and now that he can have that, he doesn't want to stop. He tries to act indifferent and unaffected but there's a tent in his jeans and his brain is getting fuzzy from the need . Yeonjun can see right through him, pulling him into his flat, kicking his shoes off and when Beomgyu does the same, Yeonjun picks him up like he weighs nothing, holding him under his thighs. He doesn't have time to say anything, as Yeonjun kisses him again.
Beomgyu gladly locks his legs around Yeonjun's hips, feeling their bodies touch without an inch between them. He is laughing into his ear when Yeonjun knocks something over and breaks on the floor with a loud crash, but they make it to the bed without injuries. He throws him harshly between the soft pillows on the mattress, making the bed squeak under him.
"I'd let you be annoying for years , shouldn't you make that up to me?" He pulls Beomgyu's pants down, palms caressing his soft skin and parting his legs. If his touch is a bit rough, he'd deny it.
Beomgyu is not a virgin, not even close. But he never felt like he was eaten alive by just someone looking at him, and that's exactly how it feels being under Yeonjun, eyes shining with something he can't quite put a name on. It makes Beomgyu feel beautiful.
"I wasn't aware this is not only about me." The joking tone falls on deaf ears when Yeonjun scoffs softly, unbuttoning his shirt while looking down at him.
"Oh right, Choi Beomgyu can't take it when he's not in the spotlight, sorry, I forgot." He lets the shirt fall down his shoulders, the sight burning into Beomgyu's mind, for sure visiting him on nights he is alone. Yeonjun is so breathtaking, even when he was just a teenager, he had an aura nobody could match or compete with. Nobody compares, and it's infuriating.
"That's not true."
"Yeah? Isn't that why you really disliked me? You can be honest now, I'll fuck you, don't worry." He smiles down at him, haughty as always, and it's making the fire in his stomach grow and grow and grow.
He pulls Beomgyu's shirt off when he doesn't answer, and everything feels so intimate and safe, but filled with something else too, like Yeonjun resents him. Their hatred for each other, however stupid or non-existent it really is, it seeps into Beomgyu's body, making the touches burn. It's heavy in the air around them, and Beomgyu doesn't know what's next, how everything is going to go down.
What did he even think, coming home with Yeonjun? Fucking him?
With him almost being naked, watched by Yeonjun so intensely like Beomgyu is his prey, he wanted to hide behind his arms or anywhere so he doesn't have to be reminded that Yeonjun is looking at him, he is seeing all that Beomgyu is. Before he could pull his underwear down, Beomgyu reaches for Yeonjun's pants, a silent question lingering in the air.
Neither of them are drunk, but Beomgyu feels like he drank for two days straight when Yeonjun pulls his pants down with his underwear, following the clothes on the floor. Yeonjun is hard , and Beomgyu is kind of in disbelief that he wants him like this. He doesn't hesitate to touch him, fingers curling around his length, mesmerised. Of course his dick would be pretty, too.
Yeonjun pulls him up to his knees on the bed by his hand, and Beomgyu complies without a word, can't help but stare. He doesn't say anything either when Yeonjun pushes him down on his elbows in front of his cock, the message clear.
"Compensation." He says lowly, a chuckle following when Beomgyu even forgets to act like he hates him the moment his lips touch the tip of his cock.
He takes as much into his mouth as he can handle, the heavy feeling familiar on his tongue. Yeonjun isn't as huge as he thought he would be, still bigger than the average and even prettier than any other dicks he saw so far, but it fits right into his mouth when he forces his jaw to open up more. Yeonjun hums in appreciation, holding a fistful of Beomgyu's hair in a tight grip, and his other hand is caressing his jaw, cupping his chin when he sucks hard .
Just like earlier, it's so intimate like they've done this before, like Beomgyu was supposed to kneel on his bed, supporting his weight on his elbows as he sucks Yeonjun off all his life. It's so surreal, an hour ago he was barely able to look him in the eye, and now this.
Beomgyu's high school self is screaming at him as he deepthroats the older boy, closing his eyes and hoping for his gag reflexes to not act up. Yeonjun curls his fingers under his chin in a firmer touch, holding his face in place before he slides his cock out of his mouth. He ignores the questioning eyes looking up at him and slides back in, still holding him firmly, setting up a pace slow enough to let Beomgyu get used to it. He fucks into his mouth while keeping their eye-contact up, and Beomgyu can't look away. When the head of his cock reaches further than he can handle it, Yeonjun just smirks at the choking sounds he lets out, trying to pull back and break free from the hold.
He doesn't let him pull off entirely, the tip stays in his mouth as he tries to catch his breath, and the sight is so mesmerising for Yeonjun, the younger boy's pretty red mouth stretched around his cock like it was made for that. Even with preparing himself, when Yeonjun fucks into his mouth now faster, his tears start running down his red cheeks, and the urge to cough strong but the need to please him is even stronger.
"Do you still hate me?" He asks with a sly smirk, chest rising and falling rapidly.
Withdrawing his hips and letting Beomgyu breathe normally for a few seconds, he holds his face in a strong grip again, pulling him up from his forearms. He looks like he didn't even hear him ask a question, just looking into his eyes, waiting and wanting.
"Yeah." His voice is quiet and softer than Yeonjun ever heard him speak, the usual annoyance missing from it. More like no, never did .
"Then lie down for me." Beomgyu leans in for a kiss that never happens, because Yeonjun puts a finger on his lips, looking at him feigning pity. "Nuh-uh, you hate me but want a kiss?" He can't even tear his own eyes away from Beomgyu's lips, so pretty and slick from saliva and precome.
"Oh fuck you."
Beomgyu flops onto his back, pulling his underwear down hastily like he fears the time is running out. He feels exposed and being deprived of the kiss is annoying him, but he tries staying still until Yeonjun deems him worthy of his touch again.
It's aggravating that Yeonjun is taking his sweet time finding the lube and condoms while Beomgyu is trying his damn hardest to not touch himself or him, his cock even more flushed now after all the attention.
He pours lube on his fingers, enough to drown a man, and pushes back Beomgyu's legs to his chest with a strong hand. His gaze is heavy on him, hypnotising Beomgyu as he starts out with one finger, easily sliding it in with a smirk on his face at how Beomgyu gasps. It doesn't hurt, he fucked himself on a toy just hours before going to the bar, but he wasn't planning on hooking up with anyone. Now he thanks past-Beomgyu for being horny.
"Please kiss me–" He is cut off when another finger joins, too early but still not uncomfortable.
"No." The corner of his lips turn upwards, and Beomgyu hates how it starts yet another fire in his stomach. "Huh, you had a little fun before this?" He asks as he looks down at where they're connected, his fingers deep inside without meeting any resistance. When Beomgyu nods shyly, Yeonjun plunges his fingers deeper in harshly, his hand hitting Beomgyu's butt.
The fingers are only doing the purpose of stretching him, because Yeonjun avoids his prostate intentionally like the annoying asshole he is, no matter how sweetly Beomgyu moans or asks for him to make it feel good. He adds a third finger and with how easy it is to glide the digits in and out, Yeonjun pulls them out after a minute, deeming him ready. Beomgyu is already impatient and it doesn't help that Yeonjun looks like a wet dream looming over his body as he pushes into Beomgyu's hole.
It's not gentle, far from it actually, like everything Yeonjun does. He has a mean smirk on his face when Beomgyu hisses from the pain, legs closing around Yeonjun's waist and stopping him.
"Slow down, Yeonjun–"
"Maybe if you weren't an asshole, I would be nicer to you now." He says with a scoff when Beomgyu puts his palm on Yeonjun's abdomen, trying to push him back.
It shouldn't turn him on even more, how weak he is in comparison to him, if Yeonjun wanted to take him, he couldn't fight back. The thought lingers in his head until Yeonjun bottoms out, deep in him. Beomgyu trashes around the bed when he starts moving, not even giving him a second to get used to his length. It hurts and hurts and keeps hurting but the pain is turning into pleasure the harder Yeonjun snaps his hips into him.
“I’m going to fucking ruin you.” Yeonjun promises, and Beomgyu believes him, no doubt.
Beomgyu thought about fucking Yeonjun at least twice a week, back in his first year of college. Going to an empty classroom and sucking him off messily, leaving dirty traces after themselves, going to the bathroom and fucking against the cold, dirty tiles in a stall. Fucking anywhere and anytime, just Yeonjun and him. He imagined Yeonjun to be sweet and gentle, but fucking him until his brain turns into liquid, kind and cruel, looking at him fondly while he deprives him of yet another orgasm. With how he holds his thighs up, fingers digging into his skin and hurting to the point he wants to squirm away, this is better than any of his pathetic fantasies.
With a powerful, deep thrust, Beomgyu cries out his name, silently begging for something, anything . Yeonjun turns his face to the side, and when Beomgyu makes eye-contact with himself in a mirror, he feels like the air was punched out of his lungs. Yeonjun is pounding into him, making his body move up and down on the messy bed. They both look beautiful, two bodies so unfamiliar with each other yet fitting so well together like puzzle pieces.
"Look at yourself, look how good you're taking me. You're just a slut, aren't you?" His voice is syrupy sweet and there's an edge to it Beomgyu wants to hear more of, he wants Yeonjun to snap.
A hand sneaks into his hair and tugs, forcing a gasp out of his throat. Even with his head tilted back and neck arching in a painful way, Beomgyu can't stop watching himself, open mouth and fringe covering his face.
"I asked something, angel." The pet name sounds foreign and spoken like that, it just feels humiliating.
"Fuck off." Beomgyu spits out shakily, and he can't even look at him to see his expression, but maybe he doesn't even need to, because his hair is being tugged again, hard enough to hurt.
Beomgyu turns his head to look him in the eye instead of watching himself, and it's a horrible idea. Yeonjun's furrowed brows and how he chews on the inside of his cheek tells Beomgyu he shouldn't push his luck, but he looks so fucking hot, how could he not play more into it now? Yeonjun looks at him, pissed off and so perfect , sweat rolling down his temple.
"Harder, fuck me harder–"
"You don't get to tell me what to do, Beomgyu."
"I should've gone home with someone else who knows how to fuck me better ." His smile is wiped off with a slap across his face, and it feels like the air stills around them.
"You better watch your mouth." Yeonjun waits until Beomgyu nods, and when he does, he caresses the red cheek almost fondly. It's not an apology and Beomgyu doesn't confuse it for one, given how easily he was stunned into silence, what Yeonjun wanted to achieve, he did.
The thrusts speed up again, and this time it's obvious he is going harder, ramming into him like he asked, pushing him into the mattress and dragging him back with each thrust. Beomgyu chokes on his own spit when Yeonjun tugs on his hair for the last time before letting go, his scalp burning from all of the tension. His fingers travel down to his navel, nails leaving red lines on the pale skin. Beomgyu prepares himself for the touch on his cock but it never comes, just a crooked smile welcomes him when he opens his eyes.
"Too much, hyung! Hurts..." But Beomgyu knows he doesn't care.
Yeonjun pounds into him hard and fast until all Beomgyu can think about is him, his cock hitting him in all the right places and pressing against his prostate. The little noises being forced out of the younger with every harsh slam of Yeonjun's hips is making him want to push harder until the whining turns into sobs. There are already tears in his eyes when he delivers a particularly rough thrust.
His head is tilted back, that pretty neck just begging for a hand to squeeze it, and Yeonjun doesn't hesitate to curl his fingers around it, pressing down on the sides until Beomgyu chokes on a moan. With his mouth hanging open in a silent scream, Yeonjun speeds up even more and the bed under them is threatening to fall apart, if the squeaking noises are anything to go by. Beomgyu holds his wrist in place, eyes closed tightly as he struggles to breathe in. He can't even swallow properly like this, drool running down the side of his face the longer Yeonjun keeps his hand there. It's so good, yet not enough.
"You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat." Yeonjun says slowly, eyes transfixed on Beomgyu's neck and mouth.
"I always look good." Beomgyu grits out breathlessly, a smile forming on his face when the fingers around his throat squeeze down harder. He is getting light-headed and red from not getting any air, and just when he wants to tap on his hand to stop, Yeonjun lets go.
He would thank him, but then that same hand comes down on his cheek, slapping him again. It stings and still , he moans.
"I think I like you better when you just drool all over yourself and not speak ."
Beomgyu snickers, caressing his own neck. "So you like me?"
"Do you ?" Yeonjun asks with a mischievous glint in his eyes, dropping down on his elbows next to Beomgyu's head.
" Never ." He lies easily, and Yeonjun's smirk turns into a smile, saying so much more than words could.
He kisses Beomgyu, biting into his lower lip the moment he kisses back, eliciting a groan from him. His hips never stop, they slow down until they're just powerful and hard thrusts, knocking the air out of him with each and every one of them. It's hard to keep kissing him with moans wanting to leave his lips, but Yeonjun swallows them greedily, prying his lips open with his tongue and licking into his mouth.
Kissing Yeonjun feels like getting drunk, only feeling the effects when it's already too late to turn back. He never wants to stop, he wants their lips to be connected forever and only part ways for breathing. He doesn't want to lose though, so he bites Yeonjun's lip too, harder than he did, almost drawing blood.
"Are you going soft on me?" Beomgyu asks, already preparing himself for a slap or his hair being pulled mercilessly, but Yeonjun just scoffs and sits up on his soles, pulling his cock out of him.
He turns Beomgyu around, pushing him down to the mattress harshly and kneeling on each side of his legs. Without warning him, Yeonjun slides in again from behind, pinning him to the bed and keeping his hand around the back of his neck. Beomgyu's face is turned to face the big mirror, watching as Yeonjun pulls out and pushes right back in. The angle feels so insanely good, it's so deep and it touches all the right places in him. He feels every ridge of his length, he feels it sinking into him deeper when he arches his back.
"Stay still, don’t move your hips,” Yeonjun orders, and Beomgyu wants to say something snarky but Yeonjun hits his prostate dead-on, making him whine. "Are you going to be good from now on?”
"Yes, I want– slower, please..."
A hand comes down on his ass, leaving behind an angry red mark in the shape of Yeonjun's palm, making him cry out in pain and surprise. It burns, but he wants it again, more and even harsher, he wants the marks to stay on his skin for days, to remind himself that this really happened.
"More, again, please!" He sobs into the pillow that smells so strongly of Yeonjun that it disorients him, staring at himself in the mirror. He can barely see his reflection with his hair covering his face, but he doesn't want to miss the hand coming down on him again, this time on his other cheek.
"Who would've thought you would be begging for pain, huh?"
Yeonjun grabs both of his arms and pulls them behind his back, keeping it there with a firm hold on his wrists. With his other hand, he supports his weight next to Beomgyu's head, looking down at the mess he is, drool and tears darkening the grey sheets. He looks beautifully ruined, and Yeonjun didn't even have to do much.
"Do you still hate me?" His voice can barely be heard between the lewd moans and desperate whines, but Beomgyu shakes his head no .
"I'm gonna cum, hyung, can I?" He looks at Yeonjun in the mirror, sees the way his smile gets back on his face, the same one before he kissed him, and that makes him so warm.
"Without me touching you?"
"Yes! Please–"
"Go on, cum for me." He fucks into him harder, pressing his wrists into his back and pulling him back on his cock every time he thrusts in.
It takes a minute for the younger boy to lose himself in the pleasure, seeing white as he cums into the sheets, cock pressed up against his stomach. Yeonjun promised to fuck the attitude out of him and he did that, but he also gave him an orgasm so intense his eyes rolled back in pleasure. Every hook-up, every ex, they all made him cum but it was never like this , toes curling and breath stopping.
Yeonjun joins him not long after, ripping the condom off and coming on Beomgyu's ass, his back and his hands in thick white ropes.
"Stop staring…" Beomgyu whines but he doesn't move, keeping his hands back and lying still, exhausted and spent from all that just happened.
An idea pops into Yeonjun's head and he doesn't bother asking for Beomgyu's approval before reaching for his phone. He looks too pretty to not take a photo, cum and sweat glistening on his skin in the warm lighting. He snaps two, and the camera's distinct noise makes Beomgyu open his eyes in panic.
"What are you doing?"
"It's your phone, don't worry. Thought you wanted to see yourself, since you enjoyed watching me fucking you in the mirror so much." Beomgyu hides his face in the pillow, kicking Yeonjun's back with his feet gently.
To Yeonjun's surprise, he pushes his ass out, arching his back for a better angle and better view, and it does unimaginable things to his head. He taps record on the camera, and without a word, he reaches out with his hand, fingers grazing the skin and collecting the cum. He pushes two fingers in his hole, pumping his cum into him and pressing down on his velvety walls until Beomgyu starts whining softly, pained, breathy sighs leaving him from the sensitivity. He is so submissive now, pliant under Yeonjun. So pretty.
He stops recording when Beomgyu can't take it anymore, holding his hand still in himself. Yeonjun pulls the fingers out, and when Beomgyu clenches around nothing, he briefly thinks about leaning down and eating him out. If only he wasn't so sensitive.
They clean up pretty quickly, joking around in the shower like they're friends , rather than enemies like Beomgyu calls them. Yeonjun lets him wash his hair and in turn, he washes Beomgyu's back, the boy so thin and tiny , his fingers could fit around his waist if he tried hard enough. They even shared a kiss, when Beomgyu stared at his lips for a second too long for it to be an accident, and he welcomed the kiss Yeonjun pressed on his lips with a sweet noise.
"I never really hated you, by the way."
"Yeah, I know that. Idiot." Yeonjun says between two kisses, looking into his eyes. "Go on a date with me."