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It’s been months since the surgery and Woojin is finally starting to feel like a person again.
He still has nightmares about the fight, the stabbing, the fire, and Gunwoo screaming his name while cradling his dying body in his arms.
But he’s doing good. They both are.
The small coastal village has provided them with a safe haven to mourn, recuperate and regroup.
Gunwoo and Mr. Oh have gone above and beyond to aid in his recovery both physically and mentally. Woojin isn’t sure he’d be doing this well if he didn’t have them by his side. Especially Gunwoo.
It’s no secret how much they mean to each other. They’ve been attached at the hip since the day they met. It was something so natural, so organic, that Woojin never thought about questioning or fighting it.
Having Gunwoo in his life makes it better, even with all the shit that’s going on around them.
Woojin likes to think he has a positive impact on Gunwoo as well. The death of Mr. Choi weighed heavily on him for a long while. And so did Hyeonju’s leaving. But now, like Woojin, he seems to be doing better.
As for Mr. Oh, he’s a man of few words, who doesn’t really open up, but Woojin can tell he’s still dealing with his grief. It comes in waves, and usually, when it hits too hard, the elder will disappear for a few days, leaving Woojin and Gunwoo alone in the small house.
It’s early morning, and Woojin is making a protein shake for himself and Gunwoo when he hears the start of the car’s ignition. He sighs, looking out of the window as he listens to the crackling of the wheels against the gravel. He wonders how many days it’ll be this time, trying not to worry too much.
“Hey,” Gunwoo’s voice pulls him out of his reverie. Woojin turns his head to look over his shoulder at his friend.
“Mr. Oh just left,” Woojin says, to which Gunwoo nods, walking up to the counter where Woojin still has the shake in the blender, briefly forgotten.
“Is that for me?” Gunwoo peeks at the drink, eyebrows shot up, partially hidden behind his long bangs.
“For us,” Woojin says.
“Looks delicious, what’s in it?”
Woojin opens the cabinet over the sink, grabs two tall glasses, then pours equal amounts of the drink into them. He motions for Gunwoo to help himself to one.
“Water, four scoops of whey, two scoops of creatine, three bananas, an apple, and zero fat yogurt.”
“You’re like a chef, hyung,” Gunwoo smiles, taking the glass from the counter, bringing it to his lips, and taking a few big gulps.
Woojin watches, his own glass untouched. When Gunwoo is done drinking half of the glass, he lowers his hand, humming satisfiedly. Woojin smiles, spotting the mustache left by the foamy drink on Gunwoo’s upper lip.
“You’ve got something-- Here, let me.”
He ignores Gunwoo’s confused look, reaching up and dragging the pad of his thumb along the younger man’s upper lip. Woojin tries not to focus on the intimacy of the moment lest his mind wanders to dangerous places like it has many times before.
He wipes his thumb on the cloth he left on the counter, breaking eye contact for a second. When he looks at Gunwoo again, he’s beaming. Woojin feels his ears heat up. Gunwoo has a gorgeous smile and when it’s sincere (which always is), it reaches his eyes, shaping them adorably into half-moons.
Woojin takes a step back, grabbing his glass from the counter and dawning its contents in one go. His heart is suddenly beating too fast and he doesn’t even know why.
Gunwoo mirrors him, finishing his shake. He then turns to the sink to rinse his cup and Woojin’s, courteously. That gives Woojin an out. He excuses himself, mumbling something about changing his clothes and getting started on the laundry.
Gunwoo pretends he doesn’t notice the sudden shift in mood, humming in acknowledgment without turning to look at Woojin.
He knows he isn’t the best at reading people and social cues, but the two of them have spent enough time around each other for Gunwoo to be able to tell when Woojin needs space. He isn’t sure why he needs it, but Gunwoo figures it’s something personal, and doesn’t want to pry.
Woojin has gone through a lot. They both have. But it was Woojin who almost died at the operating table. It was Woojin who needed Gunwoo’s blood to survive. It was Woojin who was unconscious for three days, leaving Gunwoo worried sick at his bedside. Therefore, Gunwoo feels obligated to grant Woojin whatever he needs - be it space, companionship, support, or anything else.
He owes him that much.
And even though, sometimes, Gunwoo catches himself wanting to get closer to the other man, in ways that he’s not even sure about, he doesn’t.
He doesn’t think Woojin is ready and, maybe he isn’t, either.
They have been training their bodies and minds, studying their next move to finally take Myeong-gil down. Gunwoo knows they can’t afford the distraction, no matter how touch-starved they are or how badly they’ve been craving intimacy.
Because that’s all that it comes down to, right? Basic needs. Nothing more than that.
It’s not like Gunwoo has feelings for Woojin. They’re just close friends, who are comfortable around each other, who have gone through hell and back together, and who have been there for each other through it all. Gunwoo will inevitably project whatever unfulfilled needs he has onto the one person who could fulfill them, he doesn’t need to feel guilty about it.
Woojin pushes himself extra hard during their workout until his body is screaming at him: no more. But he keeps going, ignoring the concerned looks Gunwoo sends his way from time to time.
He ends up dry-heaving behind a bush in the backyard and that’s when Gunwoo decides to call it a day.
“I’m fine,” Woojin protests, straightening up. He does it too fast, though, and loses his balance for a moment. Gunwoo catches him by the arm before he ends up falling.
“Hyung, what’s wrong?”
Woojin looks away from Gunwoo’s face, not wanting to see the genuine worry there.
“Nothing,” he gently pulls his arm back. Gunwoo lets him, but he looks down sadly at his hand.
Woojin feels like an asshole, but he doesn’t apologize. Instead, he starts for the backdoor that leads to the kitchen, but before he makes it there, Gunwoo grips his elbow, stopping him.
“Hyung, wait. Let’s cool down a bit first, huh?”
Woojin half-turns, hesitant. He doesn’t know if he can be around Gunwoo for much longer today. Not with all the pent-up feelings crammed inside him, ready to burst out at any second. Why today of all days, too? Right when Mr. Oh isn’t around to keep him in check. Woojin knows he’s going to end up doing something stupid.
“Alright,” he acquiesces despite his better judgment.
Gunwoo offers him a small smile and Woojin feels himself melt inside. He’s so fucked.
“How about we hose off the sweat first?” Gunwoo suggests.
Woojin shrugs and follows the younger to where the hose was left earlier by Mr. Oh when he finished watering the few rose bushes that still haven’t bloomed despite it being late spring.
“Strip,” Gunwoo orders, pointing the end of the hose to Woojin’s red marine shorts.
“What?” Woojin asks, eyes widening in surprise.
Gunwoo chuckles at his reaction, finding it cute. Woojin looks so hot in those shorts, shirtless, tan skin glistening with sweat under the sun. But he also looks adorable when his face displays utter shock and confusion like this. Gunwoo has to hold himself back so as not to do something he’ll regret later.
“I mean, take your shoes off. You don’t wanna get them wet,” Gunwoo saves face, smirking when Woojin visibly sighs in relief.
They both get rid of their shoes, putting them aside. Once they’re only in their shorts, Gunwoo opens the tap to get the water running. He points the hose to Woojin’s torso first, watching as the water hits the defined ridges of his abs, and the sensual line of his waist when he turns around.
It’s hard to not let himself be affected by the sight, but he does his best. He directs the water stream to the back of Woojin’s head, then he throws it back, running his long, calloused fingers through the strands to properly rinse them.
The clear water cascades down his back; his wide shoulders; muscles rippling under the skin when he moves.
“Fuck,” Gunwoo murmurs, lowering his hand, the water hitting Woojin’s ass, turning the red of his shorts a darker shade; clinging to the hard globes of his ass and his well-sculpted thighs.
Gunwoo is absolutely transfixed, lips slightly parted and heat pooling at his lower stomach.
This isn’t the first time he’s felt attracted to Woojin, but it’s the first time he’s felt such strong arousal while in the presence of the older male.
“Gunwoo-ya!”
Woojin’s loud voice drags his attention back to reality. Gunwoo blinks a few times, looking at his friend in slight confusion. “
“You okay there?” he asks.
Gunwoo nods and Woojin sends him a weird look before closing the distance between them and taking the hose off Gunwoo’s hand.
“Your turn,” Woojin says, before aiming the hose right at Gunwoo’s face.
“The fuck, hyung?” he gasps, blocking his face with his hands.
Woojin laughs openly, still holding the hose up, not giving Gunwoo a chance.
“Come here, you little shit,” Gunwoo says, ducking fast and charging at Woojin in an attempt to grab him or the hose.
“You’ll have to catch me!” Woojin says, managing to slip away even when Gunwoo’s hands grab his waist.
“You know I’m faster than you, hyung,” Gunwoo chuckles.
Their game of tag lasts long enough to leave the two of them panting by the time Gunwoo finally gets hold of Woojin. It was harder than he expected. The older man has gotten pretty fast during the months they’ve been hiding in the village. Gunwoo is sort of proud that all their training has made them both physically fitter. It means their chances of winning are far greater.
They’re both lying on the grass, side by side, catching their breath after Gunwoo turned off the water. Gunwoo combs his wet bangs away from his face using a hand, then tucks an arm under his head, squinting at the sun high up in the sky
“Are you feeling better?” he asks Woojin, who’s been silent, eyes closed.
“Better?” he asks, obviously deflecting.
“C’mon, hyung, I know you. You don’t need to hide things from me.”
The air between them morphs, turning heavy and a little uncomfortable. Woojin takes a while to answer, so Gunwoo risks a glance at him. His eyes are open now, an arm falling across his stomach, the other lying on the grass between their bodies.
“This particular thing, I’m not sure I want you to know,” says Woojin finally, grimacing afterwards.
Gunwoo sighs but doesn’t push. “When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”
“Thanks, Gunwoo-ya.”
Woojin doesn’t like to drink alone, but tonight he makes an exception since he desperately needs a drink.
He doesn’t expect Gunwoo to join him, but when he brings out two soju bottles to the living room and settles them on the table, Gunwoo offers to pour them both a glass.
“You’re gonna drink?” Woojin exclaims, shocked.
“Yeah, just a little. It’s too depressing to watch you drink alone,” Gunwoo teases, bumping their shoulders together as he takes a seat next to Woojin on the small leather couch.
“Yah, don’t say that, asshole!” Woojin protests, shoving Gunwoo to the side with his body.
They’re both wearing comfortable leisure clothes; t-shirts and sweatpants, freshly washed and smelling like softener. Woojin turns on the TV just for the background noise while they unhurriedly drink; idle chatter springing up between the comfortable moments of silence.
Woojin missed this.
He’s been feeling so wound-up and frustrated lately he almost forgot how much he enjoys simply being around Gunwoo.
By the time they’ve finished the two bottles, Woojin is reminded of how much of a lightweight he is. He’s not drunk, but pleasantly buzzed, maybe even a little bit tipsy. Gunwoo, on the other hand, looks perfectly sober, even though they’ve drunk roughly the same amount.
Woojin relaxes against the couch, legs spread. He’s in a state of pure relaxation so he doesn’t even mind that his knee is pressed against Gunwoo’s or that Gunwoo has an arm thrown on the back of the couch behind his head. He also barely acknowledges the fact that he’s leaning slightly to Gunwoo’s side.
He feels genuinely good and at peace for the first time in a while. Ah, the wonders of alcohol.
“Hyung,” Gunwoo calls, voice low and soft.
Woojin tears his eyes away from the TV, where some idol variety show is playing, and looks at Gunwoo, whose eyes are on him.
Gunwoo doesn’t miss the flush on the older man’s cheeks. His hair is slightly curlier too, since he left it to dry naturally. It makes him look even more handsome. Gunwoo has to restrain himself not to reach out and touch the curls.
“You-- thank you,” Gunwoo says.
Woojin blinks at him in confusion, a slight pout forming on his lips.
Gunwoo prays that all the self-restraint he’s learned from his boxing years is enough to keep him from kissing the man beside him.
“What for?” Woojin asks.
“Everything. I don’t know if I would’ve made it this far without you,” Gunwoo swallows dryly, eyes fixed on Woojin’s lips despite his best efforts.
“What are you on about? You’re the one who saved my life!”
Gunwoo chuckles, “I know, hyung. But I owe you a lot, too. We’re a team, right? A marine can’t survive alone. I need you.”
Woojin’s face is burning. He can feel the heat and the way his heart thumps harder in his chest at the younger’s words. He ducks his head then, shaking them slightly, to clear his thoughts, and also so Gunwoo doesn’t see all the emotions displayed on his face. He’s never had a poker face, he’s too easy to read.
“Hyung, you okay?” Gunwoo asks, leaning forward and tilting his head to the side to look at Woojin.
“Yeah, I’m fine, stop asking me that,” Woojin blows up suddenly, surprising even himself.
Gunwoo backs away, putting some distance between them like he’s been burned.
Woojin has to use up all the strength he has not to look at Gunwoo. He doesn’t want to see the look of hurt on his face. He stands up quickly, scratching the back of his head as he looks around the room, trying to decide what to do.
Gunwoo remains silent, looking down at his hands on his lap, feeling as lost as Woojin looks.
“I’m going to bed, Goodnight,” Woojin announces, then all but runs out of the living room.
Left alone, Gunwoo sighs heavily, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees, head in hands, cursing his clumsy fucking mouth.
Despite the alcohol in his system, Woojin doesn’t fall asleep quickly.
He pretends he is asleep when Gunwoo enters the small room they share and settles next to him on the futon. He keeps his breath even and his eyes carefully closed in case Gunwoo decides to check if he really is asleep.
But then, he feels a light touch on his forehead, as if Gunwoo was brushing his curls out of his face. Woojin’s breath involuntarily hitches. There’s no way Gunwoo doesn’t notice. His touch is gone immediately.
“Hyung, are you awake?” he whispers.
Woojin wills his breath to even out, again, keeping his eyes squeezed shut.
Gunwoo doesn’t call for him again.
When Woojin wakes up the next morning, Gunwoo is gone.
There’s an almost unbearable weight on his chest as he sits up and looks around the dimly lit room. The sky is overcast, threatening dark clouds on the horizon. Only a few fishing boats can be seen out in the ocean.
Woojin puts on his running shoes before he leaves the house and goes to find Gunwoo.
He has no idea what he’s going to say when he meets the younger, but he feels like they should talk about things. Last night Woojin acted like a coward when Gunwoo opened up to him and he feels awful about it. Gunwoo deserves better than that.
They always run the same distance on the same stretch of beach every day. It doesn’t take long to find Gunwoo sitting on a large rock, looking out at the sea.
Woojin slows down once he’s a few meters away from Gunwoo, letting his presence be known before he gets too close. Gunwoo’s head whips around as soon as he senses movement in his peripheral, shoulders tense, ready to fight if needed.
He visibly relaxes once he sees it’s just Woojin, then he waves shyly.
Woojin takes large steps to close the distance between them, then sits by his side on the large rock after Gunwoo scoots to the side to give him room.
The wind is strong and unusually cutting cold for this time of year. Woojin zips his jacket all the way up to his chin, then notices Gunwoo is wearing his, unzipped. Under it, only a thin white tank top.
“You’re gonna catch a cold,” Woojin mumbles before he reaches for Gunwoo’s jacket, zipping him up like he just did to himself.
Gunwoo’s eyes linger on him, making Woojin feel self-conscious all of a sudden. He withdraws his hands, placing them on his thighs, and clears his throat.
“It’s gonna rain later,” he comments dumbly.
Gunwoo hums, back to looking ahead at the tumultuous dark waters.
He can tell Woojin wants to tell him something, so he grants the older man either time to find the words, or the courage to start. Gunwoo hasn’t always been the most patient, but his mom taught him to give people the time they need to get where they need to be.
After a few minutes and some fidgeting, Woojin finally speaks, “I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have-- It was rude of me to leave like that. I was just feeling overwhelmed, I guess.”
“That’s okay, hyung. Thank you for apologizing,” Gunwoo replies, sincerely. He doesn’t hold it against Woojin.
“I--I want--,” Woojin starts but hesitates, mouth opening and closing around half-formed words. He sucks at this, which is ridiculous because he used to be a vlogger and he is usually good with his words, but right now, he is a ball of nervousness and it’s getting to him.
It also doesn’t help that Gunwoo is looking at him so patiently, with those kind eyes that Woojin loves so much.
This boy is going to be the death of me , he thinks.
Sighing, Woojin straightens his back and turns his body slightly, one of his knees bumping into Gunwoo’s thigh.
“I want to say that I need you too, Gunwoo. And it’s not because you saved my life, but because I think we work well together and we’re good for each other. I mean, Mr. Choi said so himself. We should stick together, yeah?”
Gunwoo’s smile grows, happiness and relief washing over him at Woojin’s words. Woojin looks a little relieved too. Like he was waiting to finally let Gunwoo know how much he meant to him.
“Hyung!” Gunwoo says right before he throws his arms around Woojin’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. He rests his chin on Woojin’s shoulder while the latter reciprocates the hug, wrapping his arms around Gunwoo’s waist.
“You and I… We will stick together. No matter what. It’ll always be the two of us,” Gunwoo says with such surety in his voice that Woojin feels tears coming. He blinks them away, looking up at the sky.
“Always,” he murmurs, then buries his face in the crook of Gunwoo’s neck.
As expected, a storm breaks out around noon.
Woojin makes them some instant ramen with boiled eggs, which they eat in front of the TV, then they take an afternoon nap.
Gunwoo is lying on the futon on his back while Woojin is asleep on the couch. At some point, he wakes up after what feels like only a few minutes of having fallen asleep. He gets up to crack open the window a little bit then strips off his tank top before lying back down and falling asleep almost immediately to the sound of the raindrops against the old roof tiles.
“Gunwoo-ya, move.”
Woojin is nudging him with what feels like his knee against his side and Gunwoo grumbles, rolling onto his belly, eyes fluttering only halfway open to look at Woojin.
“The couch is too uncomfortable. My neck hurts,” Woojin explains as he curls up next to Gunwoo.
“Right,” Gunwoo mumbles.
Their faces are only centimeters apart hwith Woojin lying on his side, facing him. Gunwoo feels his eyes wanting to close, but keeps them open, staring at Woojin’s cute sleepy face.
“What?” Woojin asks once he notices he’s being stared at.
“You’re cute,” it slips out of his mouth before he can think about what he’s saying.
Woojin laughs, taking it as a joke. “I’ve been told. It’s ‘cus I take care of myself. Not everyone is blessed with looks such as yours from birth.”
Heat creeps up Gunwoo’s neck at the compliment.
“I think you’re naturally cute, hyung. You don’t need to try.”
Woojin’s eyes narrow, but he’s still smiling.
“What do you want from me, brat?”
Gunwoo pretends he doesn’t like it when Woojin calls him that, but he secretly does. His lips form a smile that mirrors Woojin's.
“What I want, you can’t give me,” Gunwoo answers.
“Try me.”
Gunwoo shakes his head, closing his eyes. His heart is hammering inside his chest as the conversation veers toward uncharted and dangerous territory
“C’mon. Tell me,” Woojin insists, throwing a leg over Gunwoo’s ass, hooking his foot under his thigh, and using the grip to shake his body slightly.
“Hyung! I want to sleep, please,” Gunwoo whines.
“Now I’m curious. Tell me, tell me, tell me.”
Gunwoo can feel Woojin’s warm breath ghost over his face while he speaks, which means he’s leaning in even closer to Gunwoo.
When he opens his eyes, he confirms his suspicions: their noses are only a hairbreadth away from touching. Woojin’s expectant but still hooded gaze is on him and Gunwoo’s brain stops functioning.
Next thing he knows, he’s closing the small distance between them and capturing Woojin’s lips with his.
Gunwoo, unlike Woojin, has kissed only a few times in his life. He’s tentative and careful while moving his lips against Woojin’s. Then he pulls back after a few seconds, to assess the situation. But Woojin doesn’t allow him much time before he’s all over Gunwoo, bringing his body flush against the younger, hands cradling Gunwoo’s face.
Gunwoo ends up on his back with Woojin half on top of him, a thigh slipping between Gunwoo’s legs, and their lips locked in a much more frantic kiss.
Woojin was ready to throw caution to the wind the moment Gunwoo’s lips met his. Now, he doesn’t care how eager he seems. He feels like a dam has just burst open inside of him. Consumed with desire, his body craves more of Gunwoo, much, much more: everything he can give Woojin, he’ll take.
And Gunwoo gives. He gives and gives, and he gives in. His entire body goes pliant when Woojin pins his arms above his head to kiss his way down Gunwoo's neck, mouthing, sucking, nibbling at the skin, and everything else in between.
He reaches Gunwoo’s dark nipples and immediately latches his mouth onto one of them. Gunwoo’s back arches prettily as he sucks in a breath.
“Hyung, slow down, I can’t--,” he says, but Woojin is already moving to the other nipple, and all Gunwoo can do is moan.
“God, you’re so fucking hot, Gunwoo-ya.”
“Yeah?”
“I wanna kiss you again,” Woojin whispers, then he finds Gunwoo’s lips again, licking his way past them, coaxing the younger’s lips open.
“Hyung, I want to touch you.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
Woojin loosens his grip on Gunwoo’s wrists, guiding them to his hips where they hold him firmly. Gunwoo’s fingers dig into his flesh over the fabric of his t-shirt and Woojin loves it, but he needs more.
“Wait, let me take this off,” he says before he sits up to pull his t-shirt over his head.
Gunwoo’s eyes are dark with lust as they travel down Woojin’s body.
“Like what you see?” Woojin asks cheekily, tossing the piece of clothing on the floor.
“I do, hyung,” Gunwoo answers, his hands traveling up the sides of Woojin’s body, then back down.
One of them finds its way to Woojin’s stomach, then goes up to his chest. Gunwoo cups one of Woojin’s pecks, fingers brushing over Woojin’s nipple, making it harden. He circles the areola, then takes the perky nub between his index and thumb, squeezing it.
A shiver runs down Woojin’s body and he gasps softly.
“Do it again,” he asks.
Gunwoo is quick to do his bidding, his other hand quickly finding Woojin’s other nipple and giving it the same treatment.
Woojin’s eyes flutter shut as Gunwoo keeps teasing and playing with his nipples. He never realized how sensitive they were before.
They end up making out again, now the both of them in nothing but sweatpants.
It makes Woojin wonder why they took this long to get here. If Gunwoo made the first move, it’s obvious he wanted this as much as Woojin.
The next time they come up for air, Gunwoo asks, looking only slightly embarrassed as he does so, “Hyung, can I touch you?”
For a moment, it doesn’t register with Woojin what exactly the younger means, considering he has been touching Woojin for a while now, hands currently on Woojin’s ass, but then it dawns on him.
“Fuck. Yes, yes, please,” Woojin readily agrees.
Gunwoo easily flips their positions, kneeling next to Woojin as he lies on his back, anticipating the other’s next move.
“Can I take these off?” Gunwoo asks, tugging on the waistband of Woojin’s sweatpants.
Woojin nods vehemently and raises his hips off the futon to aid Gunwoo in his task of stripping him.
Ever so impatient, Gunwoo pulls both Woojin’s pants and underwear together, letting the older kick them off the rest of the way.
“Fuck, hyung. Look at you,” Gunwoo breathes out as he stares lustfully at Woojin’s naked body spread over the futon.
“You said you’re gonna touch me. Don’t just look, then,” Woojin chuckles and Gunwoo, still looking dumbfounded, leans in to plant a kiss on Woojin’s lips.
The first touch of Gunwoo’s hand on his dick has Woojin almost coming from sheer anticipation. He’s already hard from their heavy makeout session so it’s not difficult for Gunwoo to get his cock leaking pre-cum with only a few strokes.
“You’re so wet already, hyung,” Gunwoo whispers and Woojin has to hide his face into the crook of his elbow, chuckling in embarrassment. “What? Did I say something funny?”
Woojin turns his head to look at Gunwoo again. He looks so adorable and gorgeous and so fucking hot, Woojin can’t resist the urge to kiss him again. But before, he explains, “No, it’s just that I never expected you to be a dirty talker.”
Gunwoo’s eyes widen. “A d-dirty-- what? Is that what I did?”
“Yeah, but you can keep going. I like it,” Woojin says before he places a hand on the back of Gunwoo’s head and brings him into a kiss.
It’s the first time Gunwoo jerks another man off, but he figures Woojin will probably enjoy the same things he does, so he works the older man’s cock like he would his own. He flicks his wrist to get the right angle on his strokes and uses some of the precum to make the slide easier.
He makes sure to play with Woojin’s balls a little to see if the other likes it (turns out, he does, if the way he moans into Gunwoo’s mouth is any indication). Gunwoo squeezes Woojin’s sack, testing the heaviness of it in his palm, then goes back to pumping his cock at a leisurely pace, building a pace slowly. He wants to make this last.
“Wanna touch you too,” Woojin says, a hand already sliding down between their bodies to cup Gunwoo’s junk through the thick fabric of his sweats.
Once his hand arrives there, Woojin realizes with delighted surprise that Gunwoo isn’t wearing any underwear. His cock hangs heavy between his thighs, so all Woojin has to do is wrap his palm around the length and squeeze it.
Gunwoo’s breath hitches as his hips buck up. His hand on Woojin’s cock falters for a moment, but he recovers quickly, going back to his usual rhythm.
“Hyung, more,” he pleads, words dissolving into a small moan when, unprompted, Woojin presses the heel of his palm against Gunwoo’s cockhead, sliding it all the way down to the base, before getting a good grip on it, ignoring the fabric barrier.
“Lie down next to me,” Woojin instructs.
Gunwoo does as he’s told, then they’re face-to-face again, lying on their sides.
Unceremoniously, Woojin pulls Gunwoo’s sweatpants down, freeing his cock from its confines.
“Look at me,” Woojin tells the younger, who immediately opens his eyes. “Don’t look away.”
Woojin brings a hand to his lips, licking a stripe up his palm. Gunwoo bites down on his lower lip as he watches, then exhales shakily when Woojin finally takes hold of his dick, this time with nothing in the way.
Woojin starts fisting Gunwoo’s dick at a fast pace, matching the way Gunwoo is working on him. There’s no finesse to it, they’re both too horny, too worked up at this point.
Neither of them expected their day to end like this: jerking each other off while looking into each other’s eyes. But here they are, and Woojin knows there’s no other place he’d rather be.
He can feel himself getting close, his hips moving on their own with each stroke of Gunwoo’s hand. And Gunwoo is close too, his cheeks flushed from arousal, lips parted, hooded eyes on Woojin’s.
“Gonna come soon, Gunwoo-ya,” Woojin warns, feeling that familiar curl growing hotter and tighter in the pit of his stomach.
“Woojin-ah, me too,” Gunwoo lets out and Woojin smiles, realizing the younger is so far gone he even dropped the honorific.
“You feel so good,” Woojin says.
“You too,” Gunwoo replies.
With a sound between a groan and a moan, Woojin comes, his toes curling and vision going white. Ropes of cum land on his stomach and Gunwoo’s while his hips stutter, cock sliding in and out of Gunwoo’s fist.
His hand on Gunwoo’s erection stills, giving it an involuntary hard squeeze, which prompts the younger’s orgasm. While he’s still riding out his own, Woojin watches as Gunwoo gasps out loud, eyebrows drawing together as climax hits him.
Woojin is convinced this is the prettiest sight he’s ever seen.
He looks down at their bodies, Gunwoo’s dick still in his grip, shooting cum all over their already cum-stained stomachs and Woojin’s fist.
They’re both slightly sweaty too, and in need of a shower, but all Woojin can think about right now is how good it feels to be with Gunwoo like this. Finally, after everything they’ve gone through. It feels, in more than one way, cathartic.
Their bodies have broken down, souls torn to the point of snapping. So the fact that they are able to share a moment like this, of such meaningful physical and emotional intimacy, is not taken for granted.
It’s a miracle in Woojin’s eyes.
Gunwoo brings their foreheads together, placing a tender kiss on the tip of Woojin’s nose, then brushing their noses together.
“How do you feel?” Woojin asks, wanting to gauge the other’s feelings about what they just did.
“Incredible. You?” Gunwoo smiles, carding his fingers through the sweaty hairs at the nape of Woojin’s head.
Woojin traces the long scar on the side of Gunwoo’s face with the pad of a thumb.
“Fucking incredible, too.”
Gunwoo laughs, and Woojin closes his eyes, relishing the lovely sound.
“We should probably clean up,” Gunwoo suggests after a few minutes.
The last thing Woojin wants to do is get up. He feels so comfortable in Gunwoo’s arms, he never wants to leave there, but he knows Gunwoo is right.
Before they start to get up they share a few more kisses. Gunwoo feels giddy and a little nervous about the future. He’s unsure of how they will navigate this new stage of their relationship, but when Woojin looks at him and smiles, he tells himself they’re going to be okay.