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"Myeong--S-sir, not here, please. People might hear us," Gunwoo pleads, but still allows himself to be roughly shoved inside the bathroom stall.
Before he is pinned to the wall, Myeonggil locks the door, a fiendish smirk adorning his lips when he turns to look at Gunwoo. His arm is around Gunwoo’s waist in a flash.
"Let them," he says, then grabs a fistful of Gunwoo's ass, pulling Gunwoo’s body flushed against his in the process.
Gunwoo gasps softly, hands flying to press against the unyielding solidness of Myeonggil's chest. His fingers dig into the soft fabric of his black turtleneck and Myeonggil's smirk morphs into a grin.
"Are you scared your Woojin hyung will hear you moan when I split you open with my cock, is that it?"
While his lewd words make Gunwoo's cock stirs, Myeonggil's hand slides down his ass to nestle between his thighs, grabbing his junk from behind. Gunwoo's legs part and he needs to hold even tighter to the other man so he doesn't fall.
Myeonggil must be glad he isn’t wearing one of his expensive tailored suits.
He shoves Gunwoo against the wall again, a hand moving to the front of Gunwoo's pants, making it easier for him to grab Gunwoo's crotch and painfully squeeze it. Gunwoo keens, knees buckling as wetness gathers in front of his sweatpants.
Myeonggil uses the hand he's not torturing Gunwoo with to cup his cheek gently. He runs his index down Gunwoo's cheek until he reaches his jawline. His eyes bear nothing but blatant hunger, shiny with want and the need to break Gunwoo, make him beg and plead. Like he always does.
It's their little game after all.
"Answer me, Gunwoo-ya. Is that what you're afraid of?"
Gunwoo nods. He's usually bad with words, but with Myeonggil crowding him like this, playing with his clothed dick and balls - simultaneously doing too much but not enough -, it's like he can't form even the simplest of sentences.
"Mm, maybe I should invite him to watch."
"N-no!" Gunwoo panics, eyes widening. He claws at Myeonggil's sweater, hard enough to pull thread.
The chuckle that leaves the older man is both delightful and chilling. His eyes are so dark and clear, Gunwoo can see his own reflection looking back at him.
Then Myeonggil surprises him with a kiss, his tongue aggressively invading Gunwoo's mouth. Gunwoo moans into his mouth, unable to hold back, bucking into Myeonggil's insistent touch.
He's awarded a painful bite on his lower lip before Myeonggil tires of kissing him. He turns Gunwoo's face to the side and licks a stripe up his cheek. Gunwoo shivers, more precum leaking from his cock, undoubtedly ruining his underwear for good.
Somehow, Myeonggil manages to press his thumb right under Gunwoo’s cockhead even through the two layers of clothing. Gunwoo whimpers loudly before he bites down on his lip to keep himself from doing it again.
“Remember the night we met? I was going to mark your pretty face, give you a scar to match mine. But you said ‘yes’ at the right moment, and accepted my offer. And now I must use different methods to brand you and make you mine.”
Gunwoo doesn’t say anything, trying to focus on not making noise, even though his heavy breathing is loud enough. If anyone walks in, they’ll have no trouble hearing them. Myeonggil isn’t even trying to be conspicuous, keeping his voice at his usual level.
He doesn’t care, of course. It’s his club. He can do whatever he wants, including fucking one of his bloodhounds in one of its restrooms.
“You must enjoy it, though. Or you wouldn’t keep coming back for more.”
He makes Gunwoo look at him again, this time grabbing his chin, turning Gunwoo’s face to his.
Gunwoo parts his lips, the tip of his tongue poking out from between his lips before he licks them slowly. He watches with satisfaction as Myeonggil’s gaze doesn’t waver, glued to Gunwoo’s lips.
“Give me more, then. You’re talking too much, old man .” Gunwoo smiles, cocking his head in defiance.
If Myeonggil intends to fuck him and have his men outside hear Gunwoo’s cries while he does so, he needs to just get on with it.
All Myeonggil grants him is a scoff before he manhandles Gunwoo, turning him around so his back is to the older man. He shoves Gunwoo’s pants down unceremoniously, keeping Gunwoo in place with a hand on the back of his neck, cold and firm and dangerous. It reminds Gunwoo of how strong Myeonggil is despite his age. He could slide his fingers treacherously up and have them wrapped around Gunwoo’s throat if he’d like. He could kill Gunwoo like this.
But Gunwoo knows he won’t. He values Gunwoo too much. He has too much fun using him like this. He wouldn’t be discarded so easily.
This sureness is one of the reasons keeping Gunwoo from fearing Myeonggil. Knowing all of his men are scared shitless of him, having heard their gruesome tales, he has every reason to be afraid. But Gunwoo isn’t . He will call Myeonggil old man and ahjussi mockingly, even when Myeonggil has his dick inside of him, a knife to his throat, or both.
“Where are your manners, boy? Guess I’ll have to teach you some,” Myeonggil says, pressing his chest to Gunwoo’s back, while his fingers pry Gunwoo open, already slick with saliva.
“Where are your manners, ahjussi ? Can’t even spare your partner some lube? Shoving your fat fingers inside me like this? It hurts,” Gunwoo groans, but he rolls his hips anyway, throws his ass back so he can get Myeonggil to finger him deeper.
“Does it? To a slut like you this must feel like nothing.”
The fingers bury into him deeper, past the second knuckle. Then Myeonggil slides them almost completely out, only to shove them in again a moment later. It’s only the second thrust but he presses against Gunwoo’s prostate anyway, perfectly aimed, too well-acquainted with Gunwoo’s body by now.
It’s embarrassing and it makes Gunwoo hide his face into his elbow as he curses.
Myeonggil pays his modesty no mind, fucking his two thick fingers in and out of Gunwoo until he comes pathetically, untouched; his cum hitting the wall, dripping down the dark granite obscenely.
“God, you’re really too easy. Like a proper whore,” Myeonggil says, fingers sliding out of Gunwoo, making him whimper when his hole clenches around nothing.
He hates the feeling of emptiness the most, so he mewls in protest, arching his back, silently asking for more. Myeonggil chuckles, the sound low, sexy and menacing, making Gunwoo’s cock stir again.
“Not a whore,” Gunwoo mumbles, aware of how fucked out he already sounds and feels, his limbs feeling like jelly. He turns around when Myeonggil gives him enough room and adds, “Now fuck me.”
“Um? Thought you were worried about people hearing us,” he teases, but Gunwoo is having none of it.
He grabs Myeonggil by his belt, fingers already working on unbuckling it. Once he has it loose, he wastes no time in unbuttoning and unzipping his slacks. Myeonggil watches it all with an amused expression, hands on the wall and arms bracketing Gunwoo.
“We can be quiet, right, sir?” Gunwoo says softly, playing nice for once.
“I’ll think about it.”
Gunwoo smiles when he hears the clear warmth in the older man’s voice. He shoves a hand down Myeonggil’s underwear, pulling his half-hard cock out. He gathers saliva into his mouth before spitting on the cockhead and starting to slide his hand up and down the shaft.
It’s satisfying to hear the way Myeonggil’s breath hitches, to see the way his stomach clenches when Gunwoo thumbs at his slit and applies enough pressure around his cock to make him jerk into the touch.
Gunwoo kisses Myeonggil again while he strokes his dick. He rapidly swells in Gunwoo’s fist, thick enough for Gunwoo to struggle to wrap his hand around it, and big enough to choke on it if he doesn’t relax his throat enough.
It always feels like it won’t fit whenever the head breaches Gunwoo’s entrance, stretching and molding him to fit inside.
One would think Gunwoo’s insides would’ve learned Myeonggil’s shape by now, but no, it still feels like the first time they did this. It helps a little that Gunwoo can hold onto Myeonggil, arms wound around his neck while he holds him up. He waits for Gunwoo to wrap his legs around his middle before he pushes his dick all the way inside, meeting barely no resistance even without anything more than spit aiding the slide.
“Ffffuck,” Gunwoo moans, hiding his face in the crook of Myeonggil’s neck.
“Shh, it’s okay, I got you,” he says, whisper-like, caressing Gunwoo’s side softly underneath the fabric of his t-shirt. “I love how you’re always so tight for me.”
“Didn’t you just call me loose minutes ago?” Gunwoo bites back.
“Don’t recall,” he plays dumb, biting under Gunwoo’s ear just to make him shiver.
“You can move,” Gunwoo says, ignoring the uncomfortable sting. He knows the feeling of the first stretch is worse, but it also makes him too hyper-aware of every inch of Myeonggil, the intimacy of being joined like this.
And he does love intimacy with Myeonggil. He enjoys the connection, the little touches, the banter and the teasing. He also enjoys the way Myeonggil sometimes looks at him like he’s something to be owned, a possession. Like an untamed horse, his to break. Or a prized stallion to be paraded around.
Gunwoo doesn’t understand a lot of these feelings, and sometimes, their foreignness terrifies him, so he’d rather have Myeonggil fuck into him. This is something he can do: give himself away to pleasure, feel his core melt with every thrust, his insides tingle with every drag of Myeonggil’s cock.
When Gunwoo starts being too loud, Myeonggil puts a hand over his mouth to muffle the sounds, using the wall to support some of Gunwoo’s weight as he drives into him again and again and again. With every thrust, Gunwoo’s back slides up and down the smooth surface, the fabric of his t-shirt bunching up.
Gunwoo’s neglected cock is already leaking, precum pooling on the slit and dripping slowly down its side.
They end up changing positions, Gunwoo with his hands pressed against the wall for leverage, bending forward to present himself to Myeonggil, standing directly behind him, already aligning himself to Gunwoo’s hole again.
Before he enters him, his hand finds Gunwoo’s cock, gathering some of the precum that has leaked before he reaches for his own dick, smearing it all over the head.
Gunwoo moans, low and lewd as he watches Myeonggil’s large hand work over his cock, spreading Gunwoo’s fluid all over it.
“So pretty for me. Look at your slutty little hole, begging me to fuck it,” Myeonggil says, rubbing the fat head of his cock against Gunwoo’s rim. Gunwoo makes a needy throaty sound at the words, earning a fond smile in return.
“We should get this over with, right? I’m sure people are starting to miss us.”
Gunwoo half expects Myeonggil to just shove his dick back inside after saying that, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls back and his fingers find Gunwoo’s fluttering hole again. He pushes just one finger inside. Gunwoo can barely feel it. But Myeonggil starts to stroke him leisurely, patiently, taking his time.
“ Ahjussi ,” Gunwoo calls. Myeonggil keeps going, teasing him with that goddamn finger. “Didn’t you just say we should get this-- ahh ,” he slides in another finger and even though Gunwoo is too stretched out for it to be of significance, just the fact that he’s being penetrated is enough to make him shiver. He forces himself to continue what he was saying, “O-over with?”
“I changed my mind. Maybe someone will come find us, and they’ll hear you begging for my cock.”
“P-please,” Gunwoo is past shame at this point. Myeonggil teasing him like this is unfair, especially after pounding him so good he was on the verge of coming.
“Please what, Gunwoo-ya? Please what , boy?” The lust present in Myeonggil’s voice, the way he crooks his fingers inside Gunwoo to massage his prostate, to have him go weak on the knees, almost drives Gunwoo to the edge.
This is what Myeonggil enjoys. Toying with him, having him at his mercy. Because he knows how lethal Gunwoo is. He knows he could beat him to a pulp, he could choke Myeonggil to death right here in this bathroom if he wanted to. It would be hard-fought, but Myeonggil knows the odds would be in Gunwoo’s favor.
Gunwoo understands the appeal. He also likes to be the one Myeonggil sinks into, the one he seeks comfort in. Yes, more often than not, through sex. But there are other ways they connect, too.
There’s the business and how much blind trust Myeonggil has in Gunwoo to have his back when things get nasty. And there’s the way Myeonggil genuinely listens to him and his ideas, his advice.
They’re both special to each other, both occupy unique spots in each other’s lives.
“Please, fuck me. Come in me. Please, sir .”
It’s all it takes. Gunwoo knows that, and Myeonggil knows it too. They know each other, working like a well-oiled machine both in business and in bed.
Myeonggil fucks him slowly at first, drawing it out until Gunwoo is a panting, moaning mess, and he has to shut him up again. This time, instead of covering Gunwoo’s mouth, he shoves two fingers past his lips. He sucks on it, pretends it’s Myeonggil’s cock, that he’s suddenly grown two just to fuck both of Gunwoo’s holes at the same time. That thought alone has him close to climaxing, stomach clenching, balls tightening.
He reaches for his own cock, fisting it quickly, and then he’s coming, with Myeonggil still pounding into him. His hips hit Gunwoo’s ass every time he thrusts in, the sound of skin slapping against skin even louder than Gunwoo’s moans, so really there’s no point for the fingers in his mouth. But Gunwoo keeps them inside, holding onto Myeonggil’s wrist.
“You feel so good, Gunwoo-ya. So fucking good. Your ass was made for this.” In lieu of an answer, Gunwoo hums around Myeonggil’s fingers as they press down on the flat of his tongue, sliding further inside until he’s almost gagging.
Myeonggil traps him against the wall much like earlier, and all Gunwoo can do is brace his forearms against the wall and take it. Myeonggil starts grinding against him, balls pressed snuggly between Gunwoo’s spread asscheeks. He never slides more than a few inches out, his cock so deep into Gunwoo he thinks he can feel it in his stomach, sending shockwaves of pain-pleasure shooting up Gunwoo’s body.
Myeonggil’s warm breath fans his neck when the older man leans in closer. With his next breath, Gunwoo inhales the scent of his cologne mixed with sweat and sex. Myeonggil’s stubble is prickly against the sensitive skin of Gunwoo’s neck, but then he’s pressing tender kisses there, and Gunwoo keens, moaning around Myeonggil’s fingers.
His mind disengages by the time Myeonggil starts properly thrusting into him again. He feels sore all over, but he also feels good, blissed out, like he’s floating.
“You with me, jagiya ?”
Oh.
This is a first, Gunwoo thinks, mind suddenly awakening from its daze at the unexpected term of endearment.
“Gunwoo?”
“Y-yes, here. With you,” he forces himself to reply.
A sudden wave of heat hits him, body feeling like it’s melting slowly while Myeonggil keeps going like he’s never going to stop fucking Gunwoo. He wonders if he’s died and this is his punishment in the afterlife: getting fucked by Myeonggil for eternity.
It takes a while for him to realize he’s crying, hot tears sliding down both his cheeks.
Myeonggil notices too
“Shit. Come here.”
He is made to sit on Myeonggil’s lap, back to chest, cock already impaling him, giving him no room to prepare. Myeonggil must have sat on the closed toilet lid, but Gunwoo doesn’t even care about the logistics of what they’re doing anymore. Next, he gets impaled by Myeonggil’s cock, head resting on Myeonggil’s shoulder.
“You think you can take a little more?”
Myeonggil is caressing his thighs, his huge hands look even bigger holding Gunwoo like this, spreading his legs.
“Y-yea, but hurry,” Gunwoo exhales shakily.
“I got you, darling. It’s almost over, I promise.”
Gunwoo doesn’t know if it’s the position, the angle, or the fact that Myeonggil is being so gentle, but he’s getting hard again. It’s embarrassing enough that he already came twice while Myeonggil hasn’t even come once, and now it seems like he might come a third time.
Myeonggil holds him tight as he chases his orgasm; one arm around Gunwoo’s midsection, the other hoisting up one of his legs. If someone were to kick the door open they’d be greeted by quite a view.
“Gonna come inside you like you asked. A reward for my good boy. You’re mine, aren’t you?”
Gunwoo nods frantically, arms falling to his sides as he relaxes his body and lets Myeonggil thrust up into him once, twice; then a third and final time before he finally comes. The sound Myeonggil makes is nearly animalistic and travels all the way down to Gunwoo’s lower belly, insides twisting. A sudden wave of pride washes over him. This is all his doing, he was the one to make Myeonggil feel this good. It was inside of him that Myeonggil found his release.
Gunwoo has never felt possessive toward someone before, never wanted to be owned by someone else. They’re strange, scary feelings.
Myeonggil rides out his orgasm out with a few more erratic snaps of his hips, fucking his cum into Gunwoo’s ass before he finally stills. Gunwoo is grateful that he can finally rest, but it always feels like some kind of loss whenever Myeonggil is done with him.
He likes being needed.
Myeonggil lowers his leg, wrapping his other arm around Gunwoo’s waist while he catches his breath. The rise and fall of his chest, his embrace and his softening cock still inside him are an anchor, keeping Gunwoo tethered. He feels raw and used, but neither are bad sensations.
He is sure people must have figured out what they’ve been doing by now. But he tries not to care, tries to focus on Myeonggil, his touch, his voice asking him if he’s okay again, his lips brushing against Gunwoo’s cheek as he shifts stance. His cock slips out of Gunwoo and with it, so does some of Myeonggil’s seed.
Gunwoo whines, pouting. This is the one thing he hates whenever Myeonggil comes inside.
“Wait here. I’m gonna get some towels to clean you up.”
Gunwoo nods, allowing himself to be lifted, and sat down on the toilet lid again. He watches Myeonggil wipe himself with some toilet paper before tucking himself in, buckling up his belt, and smoothing up his clothes until he looks as composed as ever.
“You’re such a stud,” Gunwoo says, laughing.
“Mm. Don’t fall asleep.”
Myeonggil unlocks the door and steps out, closing it carefully before the sound of his footsteps walking towards the restroom door can be heard.
Gunwoo stays and waits. Like the obedient boy he is. Myeonggil’s boy.