Work Text:
Don’t run away
I can see you exactly as you are
I wanted to take one more chance
Before I lose you to the stars
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Kim Hongjoong was a complete alien fanatic.
He had been ever since he was a child. The extraterrestrial fixation was an addiction — so much that it had piloted a great majority, if not entirety of his life.
Through some unfortunate circumstances or another, he failed to keep a job. Employers liked to blame it on his ‘disagreeable’ personality. Too strange to get along with strangers, too many HR complaints about his deluded ramblings. But silence was no better. When he didn’t speak, his gaze was too upsetting, stares too lingering, ‘disturbing’ the other workers.
Blank faced and disinterested, Hongjoong accepted it numbly. At twenty-five years old, he’d been fired from more jobs than he could count. Not like he had an interest in keeping them, anyway. He hardly had an interest in socializing to begin with. He trickled down the ladder from employment to employment, never quite passing expectations, and eventually even janitorial work seemed too involved for his caliber of social exclusion.
Pretty quickly, his parents got sick of his unemployment. It’s not that Hongjoong was completely useless. He had a brilliant mind, and a near-inhuman mathematical ability to boot. He was just… disagreeable, to put it lightly. Rife with intense views about society, mostly of the prejudiced and fanatical variety, all of which were thwarted by a stubborn and looming megalomania complex. He’d done well enough on his own, preferring isolation to anything, but when push came to shove, he did need a location for his laboratory. It was really about the only thing he cared about. So, for once in his life, he experienced a slight panic when his parents gave him a month to move out.
He encountered an obnoxiously rich and stupid man under the name of Song Mingi.
For unknown reasons, he was seemingly willing to throw the grubby scientist any amount of money he asked for to a gluttonous and excessive extent, so long as Hongjoong became his ‘friend’. That is, subjecting himself to the often sadistic and merciless humiliations this rich, arrogant brat delighted from. All in all, Hongjoong often felt as if he were a wet kitten who had been adopted as a charity case from the pouring rain.
Not that any of it mattered. Rich in money, rich in stupidity, it was all the same to him as long as he had his laboratory. It got him what he needed, and that was land.
Hongjoong’s barn-turned-laboratory was a shit hole, run-down thing in all respects. Someone's dignified attempt at making something liveable out of this heap of wooden planks and nails which Mingi had barely upkept over the last ten years. It wasn’t much, closer to a shed than anything, but it all assembled together to create something resembling maybe a floor, some walls and doors, and a roof. Winters sucked without heating, and the roof often leaked more times than he could reasonably count, but it was free. Hongjoong wasn't exactly going to complain.
The home was furnished with the normal things you'd expect from a man in his mid-twenties. You know, an operating table, a couple trays of sharp things, sleek white machines turned yellow with age and a heaping handful of porn magazines. There were about twice as many dirty tissues littered throughout, abandoned beside half-drank Redbull cans. It didn't smell great here, but it didn't smell rancid, either. Big, open doors helped that. Lots of airflow in the cold night, which is what it was now, accounting for his nocturnal companion.
Ah, yeah. The alien he had come to live with, that is.
Somehow, about a month prior, Hongjoong’s entire life got flipped on its head.
With more time spared due to his newfound complete lack of schedule or responsibility, Hongjoong had more time to pursue the illogical, completely frivolous things he occupied himself with. Basically, UFO hunting. He had always been waiting for enough time and resources to stake out those freakish leylines, or go geocaching for witch circles, and there was a conveniently large area of woods just outside Mingi’s property which begged his investigation.
After a night of spotting silver streaks in the sky, Hongjoong took out to the woods, trying to find the star which had fallen.
There, amongst the UFO crash and the blinding light, he came upon his first ever, real alien. His form towered like an obelisk to the eclipsing flame of his ship's fuel, melting down his transport to chromatic rubble on the treeline. When he opened his mouth to speak, what hit Hongjoong’s ears were not words, but thick and completely incomprehensible in a foreign tongue. He felt his body melting, sinking to his knees on the wet Earth.
Hongjoong couldn’t make out his face at first. Then the creature moved closer, sympathetic almost, and his voice came to the scientist's ears suddenly with clarity. His name was Seonghwa.
And then, like that, he collapsed to the Earth. His pink face crushed into the grass, labored breathing puffing through his nostrils and his chest rising and falling. He looked twisted up in anguish, and then very tired, and like that, he was unconscious. And so, Hongjoong dragged him home, surprised to find the extraterrestrial was far lighter than he’d anticipated.
He came to learn Seonghwa almost stereotypically hailed from the planet Mars, making him the first real Martian to touch Earth. He was strange, probably because the first comprehensible thing out of his mouth after he finally awoke was a “peace treaty”.
His intention on earth was quite simple: establish harmony between the two species. Earth was bound to discover their planet sooner or later, and getting a potential war out of the way seemed like the most diplomatic option.
In order to do that, Seonghwa seemed to think that being as agreeable as possible to Earth’s inhabitants was the way to go. Which is how Hongjoong ended up with such a docile alien in his housing, despite his less-than-pure intentions.
And so, for the last month, that was where they had found themselves. His ‘landlord’ was none the wiser to the new house pet Hongjoong had begun accommodating, and he intended to keep it that way. Apart from grocery store runs to provide nourishment for Seonghwa’s strange dietary habits, Hongjoong left the laboratory close to never. Unless, of course, Mingi needed to bother him.
There was a second floor to this housing arrangement, filled with other miscellaneous junk alongside Hongjoong’s bedroom, but extraterrestrials weren't allowed up there yet. Seonghwa was barely allowed on the couch, frankly — which, there was one, if it mattered any. It looked barely used, shoved in a corner, and with nothing around it except more garbage. No television, no coffee table. Like, you were just supposed to set your drink on the floor around it, or something. Hongjoong didn't care. He used basically only two spots in this entire place frequently enough to deserve the permanent engravings and divets of his asscheeks, and that was his bed and his chair in front of the singular, albeit quite massive PC setup in the lab area.
Like, 'several towers of weird cables in a filing cabinet' type PC setup. Lots of blinky lights and about three-too-many monitors crammed in a row in front of the keyboard on the limited desk space. An L-shaped thing shoved into the corner of the room with a boat load of papers and stuff tacked to his wall. Chemtrails, 9/11, Area 51… Hongjoong was more dignified than that, but not much. What was actually tacked to his wall wasn't much better, strung up newspaper clippings and random photographs with sharpie-scrawled dates. It was a miracle it didn't have red string.
Still, to Hongjoong, it all linked together. He felt alone in this blinded, brainwashed world. Like a martyr. Pathetic, really.
Anyways, there Hongjoong was, in that ugly swivel chair with the black, cracking leather. Today, Seonghwa had finally agreed to do a full anatomical examination. There had been preludes up to this point: unwarranted prodding, lengthy interrogations on Hongjoong’s behalf, and a very poor sense of personal boundaries. But thankfully, if there was one thing he learned about this strange star-speckled creature, it was his boundless patience. He complied to Hongjoong’s whims effortlessly.
So, after several seconds of octopus-level, 100+ WPM typing, he swiveled around to look at said alien, not a beat between his mouth opening.
"So basically, stay put and don't worry about saying anything. If it's really important, or useful, essentially think: would this go in a published scientific journal? Because that's what it'll be." He plucked a clipboard and pencil off the desk and launched up from his desk chair. Hongjoong paced over to shove a wheelie, stainless steel cart to the tableside. It had a tray on it covered in sparkly, pokey-looking things. Haha, fun. Pencil pinched artistically in the air, fingers methodically straightening out the handles like one would perfect an arrangement of flowers, and then his eyes flicked up. Seonghwa . Pink, pretty, freaky.
Seonghwa was a fascinating thing in more than just his demeanor. He had pale pink skin, a bubblegum blush down his shoulders and fingers, and was peppered with freckled dots like silver stars. They glowed faintly like it too, just barely, becoming even brighter in the dark. There was likely some purpose for that in his nocturnal coding, of which Hongjoong had yet to discover, although his hypotheses were endless.
His hair was black and long, sweeping down to the nape of his neck, more wiry and textured than that of a human’s but deceptively soft-looking. The sclera of his eyes were a milky white, faintly iridescent like a pearl, with a silvery, opal-like iris in the center. His brows were barely there, evoking his truly alien look, bare features handsomely on display. The very planes of his face were sloping and soft, weathered by the stars. And when he blinked, slow and tranquil, he took Hongjoong in with simple, non judgemental observance.
Also, he was nearly ten feet tall. So, looking down was perhaps a more appropriate term.
He was still wearing much of what he was when he first arrived on Earth: jewelry made from silver metals on his hands, bands and beads in his long, black hair and matching jewelry dangling from his bat-like ears. Those baubles hanging off his ears made small, clinking noises when they moved too quickly which, in all honesty, was happening a lot over the last week or so. The buzzing from the lights and the fan and electrical parts in Hongjoong's computery thing had been incredibly distracting. Seonghwa's wide, dark eyes kept flickering over to it.
Just the sight of him made excitement jump all over Hongjoong’s skin. Fingers twitching, couldn't wait to poke and prod and pick — but he didn't rush. Hongjoong had spent many years, or what felt like a lifetime, waiting for this opportunity. As a child, he had been afraid of aliens ever since he saw them land in the field outside of his window at night, knowing they had broken into the house and hid within the corners and shadows where his parents couldn’t see them. They stayed in his closet and watched him sleep at night, waiting to abduct him. But over the years, when he got older and they appeared less and less, Hongjoong found himself missing them. Obsessed with the hunt, hellbent on his discovery, he regretted his missed opportunity to approach them.
He looked at Seonghwa and sucked in a breath.
“Do you have any questions before I start? Anything I should know beforehand, externally? Whatever you don't tell me, I’ll find out later. There’ll be plenty of time still to... vivisect you, and see what keeps you running, so…” His eyes descended down with the drawl of his voice, then up again. All ten feet of this beast, nearly touching the ceiling. Then, he hummed. “While you do that, I’ll start.”
He snapped on a pair of blue, latex gloves, setting his clipboard and pencil aside. Without another glance, Hongjoong was rounding the table to grab his chair and pull it over. He had to stand on it to reach.
A voice drifted up from the silence. “Mm…”
Seonghwa’s voice was thick and low, bubbling out like a purr. No doubt, a different set of vocal contraptions lie beneath the thick walls of his throat, complex biology firing off in tandem beyond Hongjoong’s wildest imagination. Seonghwa had found himself here on this lab table a handful of times already in the past series of Sun-Moon cycles he came to know the humans called 'days' and 'nights'. They weren’t too different from his days on mars, although his species called them ‘sol’s’. Luckily for Seonghwa, he had been greeted by Hongjoong shortly after his arrival.
Hongjoong, who was clearly a great and intelligent specimen among the humans, took Seonghwa in, fed him, housed him, and had been spending quite a considerable amount of time getting to know the aliens origins. And, of course, the basis of his mission.
He was a prince on his home planet and had been sent here by his father in order to assure that the ever-growing curiosity in humans wouldn't result in violence against their species. Having no cluster — a group of bonded mates, back on his home planet — Seonghwa thought this was his chance to stand out against his peers. So, he had accepted the long, diplomatic quest. Now he was here, watching this tiny, musk-smelling creature putting on… protective equipment, perhaps, and asking several very serious questions.
“No,” Seonghwa finally laughs softly. Much like his voice, his laugh doesn't sound quite right. It's a husky baritone, coming from deep within his chest. “You are interested in my anatomy. Is this the purpose of your exam?”
“I have to look at everything, so yes, that's part of it.” Hongjoong keeps his voice sharp, shooting Seonghwa a raised brow. “I said a full body exam and I meant it. You’re riddled with too many things not to cover all my bases. What if there’s something you forget to tell me about?”
Ever curious, ever trying to learn with this observant, but charming kind of expression, Seonghwa only smiles. A beat later, and Hongjoong climbs up shakily to stand on his swiveling chair, balancing one hand on the Martian’s shoulder.
Struggling to quite triumph the height, Hongjoong hikes one foot up on the steel examining table, before raking his eyes down Seonghwa’s frame. It was a bit disjointed, but it managed to keep him from completely balancing on the wiggly, wheeled thing capable of spinning out from under him at any minute. Wordlessly, Seonghwa reached up and softly tucked his hair back, politely moving it out of the way and even leaning forward so the skinny man could get a look at his back like he seemed keen to. Hongjoong’s eyes inspected, disappearing behind Seonghwa's backside with a lean.
“Your spine is so long…” He proceeded to jam a cold, gloved thumb against the middle-lower column and begin sliding it up, digging in to map out the bumps and ridges. This thick thing, broad as his forearm, was like a dense root to keep a lumbering tree up. It felt mostly similar to a humans... Mostly. No indications of other appendages back here, tails or wings, at least on the surface. He sighed like he was disappointed, stopping between the shoulder blades.
“Will I eat after the exam?” Seonghwa mindlessly asks, disinterested in Hongjoong’s business as he works. It was clear his thoughts, much like the rest of his demeanor, was floaty and meandering. A second of further thought would reward more drifting words from his lips, as if thinking aloud. “More… bah-nan-aus? What is the smaller red fruit? Ape-pels?” An ear twitched curiously.
Hongjoong tried to resist rolling his eyes, but he settled for a single, raised brow instead. Seonghwa was beginning to learn that Hongjoong always looked perpetually annoyed by something, perpetually running on four hours of sleep.
“Apples? ” He clarified exasperatedly, the faintest twinge of annoyance in his knitted brow. He readjusted his gloves and leaned back again, tilting around to glance down Seonghwa's frontside, barely looking him in the face. “Sure, whatever. Consider it a reward if you behave through this. Really, I should actually get you some kind of meat or protein to see if your... organs break down something like that. What do you have in there, anyway?”
He poked Seonghwa's belly, eyes seeing through him, envisioning entangled violet organs of unknowable functions. His fingers pulled at the skin for a second like he wanted to pull it all back and peer inside, or just plunge his hands into the wet guts altogether.
This entire week has had Seonghwa being terribly compliant with whatever Hongjoong wanted. Sticking him in this posture, only feeding him the bare minimum of satisfactory sustenance. The questions, the poking and prodding. Seonghwa was certainly more patient than most, but even he had his own exasperations.
The fingers stretching his stomach danced around almost indulgently. The pressure was mildly annoying — no bodies liked being pressed into like that, after all — but Seonghwa remained calm regardless. That said, the short confirmation of proteins and fruits had Seonghwa's ears twitching forward once, almost excitedly. It was blatant interest. An unspoken, nonverbal cue.
“Martian diets consist of aquatics and fruit, so yes, I imagine I could handle your form of meat, ” he says pleasantly, a small smile on his lips. His eyes flickered over to Hongjoong beside him. He was patient, and motivated. “But do I not behave already, Hongjoong?” He says it softly with a smirk. It carried a twinge of something, too light and airy to be pinpointed, but Hongjoong was left with a vague sense of uncharacteristic sarcasm.
Currently, Hongjoong was more interested in examining whatever equivalent of a belly button, or lack thereof, Seonghwa had. He glanced up over the rim of his thick glasses, deadpanned as his hands halted their mission of investigating his flesh. Martian skin was somewhat like humans, but a little different and sleeker in texture, which Hongjoong was currently hypothesizing being due to a lack of body hair. He supposed it was a trade-off for the unique fingerprint-esque, bioluminescent markings that stretched all across Seonghwa’s body — or at least, what Hongjoong assumed did. He had only seen a small fraction of it.
“Yes,” he answers flatly, staring Seonghwa back in his big, buggy eyes. His pupils were unnaturally large, likely to see so well in the dark. Hongjoong wondered how much light and colors it picked up that humans simply couldn't see, what cones were in there, if he could get permission to pluck just one of them out without damaging him too badly.
“Aliens don't belong on this planet,” he continues curtly, thinning his lips. “Can you see why this is an anomaly for you to even be here?” He straightens up a little in his half-kneeling pose on the table. Even like this, bent on one knee with the other on the chair, he was still only about as tall as Seonghwa's shoulder. He didn't stop there, though. Hongjoong was pushing himself up to his feet again with that one hand of leverage, moving himself closer to Seonghwa’s head. He wanted to see those eyes.
“You're very lucky… Unlike other brainwashed people, I know you've existed all along. The more information I have about you, the better the world will understand.” If he'd been looking into Seonghwa's face before, it changed now, staring into those eyes less as windows to the soul, and more as ocular, fleshy pockets in his skull that Hongjoong seemed inclined to dissect in everything but a literal sense. Seonghwa just stared back, confused, but unphased. He blinked once.
“Yes,” Seonghwa agreed simply. “I am very lucky. You’re rather gentle, for an alien species. It would have been unfortunate if you immediately killed me.”
The words made Hongjoong’s eye twitch, shooting Seonghwa a narrowed look. Who's really the alien here? He wanted to say, but he only puffed impatiently through his nose. He couldn’t really argue, could he?
After a second of perhaps too-intense staring, Hongjoong finally broke away up to Seonghwa's hairline, as if distracted by an awry thought. His face relaxed slightly, a new wave of fascination.
“Hm… You said you had antenna once?” It had been mentioned once in passing, during their first handful of days together. Most of their conversations indulged in long, winding explanations of anatomy — all of which Hongjoong had been itching to get a first-hand look at until now. He tipped his head searching about Seonghwa's hair for the aforementioned things, not reaching up yet, but looking for a visual cue of that glossy streak sticking out like an oil spill. Politely, Seonghwa bowed his head just slightly so Hongjoong could reach it easier, humming under his breath.
After a moment of looking, the antennae wouldn't be hard to see. They sprouted from the hairline, closer towards the forehead, and reflected the lights of the lab in a way that was separate from the rest of Seonghwa's silky hair. They were almost twitchy on their own, thicker than strands of hair like thin cables. They were smooth, but perfectly segmented and nearly felt like velvet with all the fine, soft hairs on them. They mostly helped the Martians pick up on unseen things — and on one another, when the occasion called for it.
“So, what’s the purpose for these?” Hongjoong asks as if reading Seonghwa’s mind, distracted examining them from his hairline.
Seonghwa hums consideringly under his breath, flicking his eyes to the ceiling. “Well, on our planet we use them to mark things which belong to us, in order to separate our things from another's… Martian’s can look very similar, so.”
Hongjoong raises a brow. “You look pretty unique to me?”
“I’m a prince,” he says smugly, shrugging his shoulders. Hongjoong just grunts.
“Okay. So your ornaments are from your rank. How do you ‘mark’ with these things, exactly?”
This time, Seonghwa’s eyes flutter over to him before lingering, studying his features. “Pheromones.”
Hongjoong glances up to catch his eyes. “Invisible?”
Seonghwa curtly nods. “Unique to me. Having a broken antenna can be seen as a bit… undesirable.” He pauses for a moment on that, a tight and shy smile quickly darting across his lips. Hongjoong is oblivious to its meaning. “Er, they also help us see things which aren’t there — certain vibrations, and such. Your… device makes a lot of them.” He flicks the computer in question a judgemental sideways glance, a clear bitterness in his usually soft features. Despite all odds, it makes Hongjoong’s lips quirk up into a smirk.
“Yeah, well, Earth is filled with a lot of those. You really aren’t built for this planet.” And on that note, he gives the frame of Seonghwa’s ten-foot-self a once-over just to punctuate his point. He’d already discovered pretty early that Mars was a very low-gravity planet, considerably more than Earth, which meant that any species there were bound to grow taller. Less compression of gravity meant we got things like Seonghwa, looming and spiraling with long, stretching limbs.
However on the flipside, it also meant he was weaker — lighter and more fragile, especially since coming to this planet. The drastic switch in gravity had been so intense at first that the alien spent almost an entire week crashed on his couch, only waking to shovel food in his mouth that Hongjoong would bring him and then drift to unconsciousness again. The scientist half thought he would just die before even getting to talk to him. Needless to say, he hadn’t gotten much information that week until Seonghwa’s body adjusted to being about 3 whole times heavier, and even then, Hongjoong still felt he was slowly uncovering the true extent of his personality. He got more animated each day, probably more so today than the scientist had ever seen him.
Hongjoong tries to push the thoughts out of his mind as Seonghwa’s unusually bright eyes watch him, waiting patiently for a reaction. He narrows his focus on the antenna again, noticing now how they twitch and quiver lightly amongst the strands of his hair. They must be passively picking up on things like Seonghwa had said, considering the noisy device he now found himself constantly being around. He had to have a boundless patience to be putting up with essentially a mild tinnitus over the last month, now that Hongjoong thinks about it.
Seonghwa’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts.
“Just looking?” He mutters curiously, eyes settling on his lap where one of his hands came to straighten out the edges of his skirt — this thin thing tied around his waist, decorated with colorful, woven braids and metals like the rest of him. He pauses for a moment, slightly squinting his gaze. “Does the examination… demand touch?”
It seems like an innocuous question, at least to a somewhat deaf, or completely ignorant person like Hongjoong. As if to answer it again without words, he reaches forward and rests his palm flat on the side of Seonghwa’s head.
“Duh.” Hongjoong shrugs, flat and blunt.
Hongjoong promptly used that hand against the side of his head to pet it back in a tactile, feeling motion. Much like the rest of his poking and exploring, he had no hesitations to grope around and prod at Seonghwa whole-heartedly, and this time was no exception. He stroked with uncharacteristic gentleness, smoothing the Martian’s hair back in a soft, deeply soothing manner.
Human hands were so small compared to other Martians, and Seonghwa was even considered to be on the smaller, thinner side of his species, but contact was contact. His hands were so close to something familiar, to petting and grooming. It felt like a finger or two in comparison, but despite everything, it was faintly rewarding.
“Hongjoong… Must you do that?” Seonghwa manages out softly, the first hint of some strain in his voice which goes completely over Hongjoong’s head.
“I have to feel,” is all the scientist exasperatedly says. Seonghwa puffs a breath through his nostrils.
When he did find them, the stalks stood out like sore thumbs against Hongjoong’s palm. He petted Seonghwa’s head to see how far back they went, testing all the way to the ends of his hair on the nape of his neck. They somewhat blended in from far away, but up close it became quite apparent the stalks were thicker and more raised than the rest of his locks. In a pinching motion, slowly and delicately, Hongjoong plucked one out and began lifting it upright. Like pulling shrapnel from a gunshot wound, surgical and precise.
A startled hum worked its way out of Seonghwa’s throat. The latex gloves were tacky, a bit cold and lacking smoothness as the feeling ebbed through his scalp. His eyes wordlessly fluttered shut, brows lightly knit in focus. As if attempting to display himself, Seonghwa proudly lifted the antenna upright with slight effort, brandishing them precociously.
Hongjoong tilted his head as those things stuck straight upright, finally on display the way he properly wanted to see them. He recognized then that these little things were quite vulnerable when exposed, such brittle little things pinched between these fingers which had shown their penchant for roughness. It felt like squeezing a bug leg, chitinous in a way, but sturdy and velvety soft. Probably thanks to all of those…
“ ... Hairs,” Hongjoong muttered breathlessly, the thought streaming straight from his consciousness and out absently into the open air. He leaned forward until he was uncomfortably close, the thin thing delicately pinched in his latex-covered hands. He tilted his head to see each one in close, crisp definition, humming under his breath. Perhaps Seonghwa could feel it tickle him.
“Fascinating... They have small, microscopic hairs.” Without a word, Hongjoong peeled a glove from his hand before giving it a small, curious little stroke, up and down to feel all of them. His fingers glided on the hairs easily.
Quiet at first, and then increasing in intensity, Seonghwa’s throat rumbled softly before letting out a short pattern of clicks and guttural noises. The same type of noises that he made when introducing his Martian name. It wasn't something humans had the capability of repeating, not easily at least, so he introduced himself instead through a human word the first time they had met: Seonghwa . The name of his home planet, in the native language where he had landed, and playfully flipped around. It seemed suitable enough for Hongjoong to understand.
Hongjoong paused, eyes flicking down to Seonghwa suddenly. Was he… purring?
It was only a couple of seconds later, with these alien sounds and his heart rate speeding up, that Seonghwa’s face steadily grew hot.
“Gently, please,” he moaned softly.
Hongjoong didn't seem to realize what he was accidentally doing. His fingers ended up high over his head near the tip of the stalk, three fingers grasped around, delicately holding it like he should've had his fucking pinkie extended. He balked at Seonghwa with coin-like eyes.
Seonghwa's face was flushed a dark pink. His head was tilted, still looking down at his lap, fingers fussing over the edges of his skirt. When the silence stretched on too long, he glanced up, shooting Hongjoong a weary glance that made his insides churn.
“It is sensitive,” he said simply, breathless, as if the scientist’s carelessness was obvious. Hongjoong’s heart skipped.
“Sensitive?” He had to stare at the alien for several seconds, jaw stupidly agape. His eyes hurriedly flicked around Seonghwa’s face as if trying to determine exactly what primitive reaction he’d evoked. But the answer it gave him seemed obvious.
His eyes flickered hurriedly down to his lap, fussing with his skirt, and Hongjoong's brows knitted on his forehead.
“Did I… oh. ” He hated the way his voice came out, shakier than he meant it. His hand froze for several long, agonizing seconds. “I didn’t know.” He finally manages, unsure of what else to offer.
Seonghwa’s brow twitches, but he doesn’t lift his head. “It's not bad.”
And Hongjoong is speechless, gaping stupidly as Seonghwa sits there suspended in obvious pleasure, not condemning it but curious for more. For some unfathomable reason, as if his hand was puppeteered all on its own, he slowly slid it down the stalk again, measuring for a reaction.
Seonghwa’s successive exhale makes his hairs stand on end.
Breathlessly, Hongjoong whispers, “Um… good?” And Seonghwa nods once.
“Yes,” he tries to answer plainly, believing himself to be a good wealth of knowledge for all the things Hongjoong wanted to know about him. His antennae twitched and almost shivered responsively, flexing outwards in a stiff manner, like the appendage yearned to be stroked.
Without saying anything, Seonghwa found himself staring rather pointedly at where he assumed Hongjoong’s groin would be. Was Hongjoong like a male or female Martian, he wondered? It’s more of a sideways thought trickling in than anything worth acting on, at least for now. Not that it really mattered, anyway. Seonghwa was flexible. Things like gender didn’t really matter on his planet apart from preference.
“This is… sexual for you?” Hongjoong finally asks, drawing his hand back just enough to tickle with his fingertips. A strange adoration fluttered in his chest when the stalk flickered out, akin to a cat ear, chasing the touch.
“Hongjoong…” Seonghwa’s groan promptly cut into his thoughts, just a twinge more exasperatedly. And yet unmistakably, his voice was flushed with such a pleasured sound that fell out of his mouth, sweet and soft in the air.
Hongjoong tries to ignore the way something responds in his pants, a guilty heat pooling suddenly in his stomach despite the equally gnawing embarrassment. With as much confidence as he can muster, somehow tricking himself into being okay with giving the alien equivalent of a handjob, Hongjoong slightly settles himself on the lip of the table. His free hand, not preoccupied with Seonghwa’s antenna, rests itself gently against his shoulder.
For all his roughness, the scientist is oddly considerate when he pauses at the base of the stalk, testing with a little pinch-and-roll. Seonghwa seems to let himself relax into it, one of his hands wrapping itself around Hongjoong’s thigh. His fingers encircled effortlessly and then some, touching around the circumference, dwarfing it like it were a coke can. It squeezed him, dragging him closer to himself as Hongjoong gasped.
“Is this really okay?” Hongjoong breathlessly asked, losing every ounce of gusto that once possessed him a moment prior. A second later, he’s clearing his throat, trying to maintain composure. “It’s for the examination, so…”
Seonghwa, whose purring like a cat as Hongjoong massages him, lets out a thick puff of breath through his nostrils. “You’re going to examine my reproductive organs, then?”
And there it is again, that twinge of smugness despite the position Seonghwa finds himself in, that has Hongjoong’s guts twisting up and his words failing him. It’s sarcastic without a doubt, confident enough to just nearly make Hongjoong annoyed, but then again, he is a prince. He manages a dry scoff, but his eyes drift downward regardless.
“Something tells me you’d like that,” he bites back, hand moving on its own again.
Seonghwa doesn’t respond for a half second. “So, that’s a yes, then?”
Hongjoong freezes, but his silence betrays him. “That’s… I guess…”
He struggles for his words for several painfully embarrassing seconds, but it seems to be long enough that Seonghwa eventually grows impatient. That little grip around his thigh which had been minor at first suddenly tightens, and Hongjoong can feel the sharp exhale of annoyance that hits his neck when Seonghwa suddenly huffs. With his eyes pointed downward, from the edges of his skirt, he watches as something shudders.
Hongjoong watches with coin-like eyes as the tips of something tapered, organic and rich scarlet like the rest of Seonghwa’s skin begin slipping out from the sides of his skirt — this useless, thin little veil of fabric that had performed a miracle concealing everything until now.
Hongjoong’s brows shoot to his hairline as his hand stutters. No fucking way.
His mind raced, a loser instinct running calculations at the sight of what was, unmistakably, alien cock. What the fuck was that? Where did it come from? It could be retractable, or completely internal, or —
Suddenly, Seonghwa jerks him closer, snapping him out of his thoughts instantly. He lets out an embarrassing noise as the chair skitters out from under him, the traitor, banging into the side of his desk with a wham . His lips were thinned shut in a faux attempt at stoicism — muscle memory, really — but his eyes remain enormously wide, breath picking up in his chest.
“W-What is that?” He stole another look down again, the deeply concerning ripples of something knotting beneath that millimeter-thin fabric. “Why’s it moving? ”
Seonghwa returned the gaze, much calmer than he could argue. “I tried to tell you.”
Hongjoong scoffs, shoving the alien’s shoulder. “Bullshit.”
“You said you wanted to touch.”
Before Hongjoong could respond, Seonghwa gave him a considering once over — a short look that had Hongjoong’s hairs standing on end as every muscle in his body promptly failed him. The look in Seonghwa's eye was nothing short of sizing him up, especially considering Hongjoong's frankly unimpressive stature. He could practically hear the thoughts behind the Martian’s eyes: well, he’s quite small, but he might do. The thought occurred to him, just briefly, that perhaps devouring him whole was Seonghwa’s form of intercourse.
Before he could indulge that chilling thought, Seonghwa’s other hand moved over and attempted to gently, almost sweetly rest on Hongjoong's head, smothering any hasty assumptions along with it. Except, it was nearly the size of his fucking skull, and it instead slapped down with a dull thwap despite his best efforts. Hongjoong hissed with a sharp oof, his glasses knocking aside and going crooked on his visage. He blinked through the skewed, disjointed lenses, just as the fingers began to weave into his blonde hair in a soft, petting motion. Or at least, tried to.
“You want our bond? Already?” Seonghwa mutters, stroking Hongjoong like a kitten, and he feels his heart climb up into his throat and shiver. “Then, good... Good. I accept your courting.”
And not even a blink before Seonghwa finished, his other hand fisted up into a little piece of Hongjoong’s pants and ripped .
The distinct sound of tearing fabric resonated out into the empty air. The feeling of the cold air bit Hongjoong’s skin instantly, blanketed warm a moment later by Seonghwa’s fingertips squeezing the tender area. The sudden, perverse realization of Seonghwa's hand practically swallowing the circumference of his thigh made his cock jump in confused alarm. His heart pounded loudly against his ribcage, and yet simultaneously, it felt as if it had plummeted into his stomach.
“You're — what? You think this is mating —” He blurted out frantically in punches of breath, pants being ripped to pieces. Uh oh, he was hard. “I need my pen, m-my notes…” Instead of fighting, he’d begun staring down at the hand currently dismantling his wardrobe, and whatever was happening between Seonghwa's legs.
There were multiple of these thick things hidden beneath Seonghwa’s skirt, all starting to move independently of each other, yet flexing and twisting in hypnotic tandem. Hidden under the cloth it was difficult to see more of their muscular nature, or the small, yet plentiful rows of suckers on the sticky insides. Still, Hongjoong could guess. Something about it felt a bit eldritch. Slowly but surely, every word seemed to die off at his lips.
What was he even talking about anymore? Seonghwa shamefully wasn't paying attention, not as he carefully tore away the fabric from Hongjoong's lower half, discarding it as nothing more than a scrap on the lab floor.
It wasn't hard to break all those tiny, tiny threads and seams, like unpacking a candy. Strip by strip he would peel away the dignity that Hongjoong had left until all that remained was the belt loop of them. The thicker fabric was more annoying, but that, too, went snapping off with a particularly rough jerk. Hongjoong let out a staccato shriek he wouldn’t want to live up to by morning.
Much to Seonghwa's immense disappointment, underneath that layer of fabric was another layer of fabric. The only saving grace was that, with only one remaining, he could at least see that there was something phallic beneath. And it was warm, too, bulging against the black cotton in a cutely miniature package. Hardly the size of Seonghwa’s pinky. He smiled widely as if endeared.
“Pen..? Notes?” He hummed absently, flicking the scientist a nonchalant glance. He was clearly far more invested in the sight of Hongjoong’s covered erection than anything else. A tell-tale curiosity was plastered across his features as he studied with his gaze, aware vaguely that there would be interspecies differences between them but unsure exactly of what .
He studied it for a second, then cast a sideways glance with a long, impatient sigh, as if Hongjoong’s babbling was a nuisance. “Stop whining , I’ll get them,” he pouted before leaning away.
His gargantuan limbs stretched across the distance to Hongjoong’s wheelie cart effortlessly. It took a second for him to find them, swatting around blindly, but once retrieved he proceeded to shove them squarely into the center of Hongjoong’s chest.
"Uh — oof! ” Whatever war was going on in Hongjoong’s head was promptly sliced through with the thwap of a clipboard.
It smacked against him before dropping straight down, despite his clamoring fingers. He swung his hand down to catch it, an annoyed noise from his throat, but it was too late. Inevitably, it slipped through his grasp, clattering loudly to the floor.
Hongjoong gasped in offense. “My notes!”
Seonghwa didn’t even look at him before being promptly seized by a second hand. Was he being cocky right now? He wasn't sure how else to interpret it as anything else. Seonghwa lifted him straight up like a doll, until Hongjoong’s clothed erection was placed right in front of his face. He drew a deep breath.
“Here?” He purred simply, not breaking eye contact with the leaking, thick mound in Hongjoong’s briefs.
He felt the air squeeze out of him, humiliated at his own arousal. Shut up, Seonghwa’s complete dismissal almost said, or maybe he genuinely hadn’t heard Hongjoong’s protests a second prior. His head jerked down to gawk at the yawning distance between his feet and the lab table, now feeling more like a canyon. A quiet noise of alarm squeezed out from under his breath. It’s only a couple of inches, but it didn’t make Hongjoong feel any less feeble.
“It’s… um…” He struggled with his words, kicking his feet lightly. Seonghwa didn’t seem to mind whatsoever lifting an entirely grown, human man. “ Yes .” It was hardly audible, muttered shamefully under his breath. With the simple confirmation, Seonghwa’s mouth fell open.
He leaned forward to drag his long tongue over Hongjoong's crotch, but the sheer size of it did nothing to prevent the flat muscle from dragging all the way up to his stomach, dragging a trail of spit in his wake. Hongjoong’s shirt rides up over his navel and to his sternum, rendering his poor abdomen slimy and exposed. Immediately, Hongjoong's body submits with a full-body shudder, mouth falling open and eyes squeezing tightly shut. His head tips back as little hands squeeze into the bigger fingers wrapped around his sides, choked on a deplorable moan.
Seonghwa hovers as his breath fans over Hongjoong’s tummy, mouth twitching once. The taste of stale fabric lingers on his tongue.
He leans forward again, but instead of licking Hongjoong, he very carefully bites the thin, millimeter fabric of his bottoms and jerks his head to the side. Hongjoong jolts in a flash of discomfort, fabric cutting into his hip bones in futile resistance, before inevitably ripping to pieces. And then he’s left bare, boxers spat out onto the floor with a pathetic scrap of waistband and thigh intact, draping uselessly off his flesh. His chest rises and falls with prey-like adrenaline.
“Can you please stop that?!” He has the audacity to bark, kicking his foot into Seonghwa’s shoulder for anything it’s worth. Seonghwa grunts softly, spitting a piece of cloth on the floor with a stuck-out tongue.
“I know this must be new for you, but if you intend to mate, for my species it’s customary to be naked ,” he complains back without hesitation. For the first time, Hongjoong becomes acutely aware of those small, almost discreet canines poking out on his front row of teeth as Seonghwa snaps something so uncharacteristically demanding, and suddenly he has a lot less arguments on the tip of his tongue.
Seonghwa is huge. He can’t tell completely if he’s 3/4ths away from being fucked or murdered.
The sizes are completely incompatible, and he’s painfully aware of the ways this could hurt, even if it goes as traditionally and optimistically as Hongjoong would like to imagine. He was being thrown around like a sack of potatoes, gawking at Seonghwa stupidly as each powerful breath from his nose tickled hot against his thighs. For a second, unabashedly frightened and aroused all at once, Hongjoong squirms like he’s making a half-hearted attempt to get away. The only rational part of his brain left knows he should. Both his feet go up, finding purchase somewhere, landing up on Seonghwa's shoulder.
Unfortunately for him being bare, Seonghwa would see the way his cock throbbed with adrenaline, hovering slivered inches off his fluttering belly. Enough to stand on its own, although Hongjoong was sucking in breaths like a rabbit.
“You’re excited,” Seonghwa hums, his own tongue swirling around his mouth. He punctuates the words with more unintentional clicks from the back of his throat, excitement mingling together to create this strange cocktail of flirtatious advances. Hongjoong isn’t sure if he should be annoyed or stupidly horny about it, so his eyes just flutter weakly, groaning under his breath.
“Obviously,” he hissed, as if Seonghwa should know the full extent of human anatomy. Clearly even he could tell that much, despite Hongjoong’s pathetic attempts otherwise. Despite this, his irritability doesn’t seem to deter the Martian, who simply drops his jaw open before taking Hongjoong into his mouth — all of him, and then some.
It’s exceedingly easy, so much that Seonghwa practically mouths the entirety of Hongjoong’s hips in a single, wet kiss. The sheer load of sensory all at once is enough to make the scientist electrify to life, animating with a full-body squirm as a humiliating, startled noise squeezes from his throat. It’s warm, the inside of Seonghwa’s mouth, before a tongue finds his little leaking cock and gives it a proper lick.
Fuck. Hongjoong makes a noise that sounds like it’s been squeezed directly out of his diaphragm, like a deflating helium balloon. Seonghwa’s tongue is massive and pillowy soft, eyes almost level with Hongjoong’s belly button as he flicks a mindless, upwards glance. His erection didn’t even begin to reach the back of Seonghwa’s throat. Sucking on him was like sucking on a candy, strong and effortless and so overstimulating that Hongjoong couldn’t help the way his thighs pressed together, so tightly wound he wanted to cry.
His nails dug into Seonghwa’s fingers as his face wound up. Everything was all scrunched together, his guts like a tight ball of eels as his hips bucked against his own will, but the feeling only makes it better — or wose. Good, and then too much, and then his cock is aching and he can feel the pound of blood flow as his thighs tingle and Seonghwa’s tongue makes a sloppy mess of his pelvis with another broad kiss. Perhaps because Seonghwa didn’t entirely know what to expect from a human body, he also didn’t totally know when to stop. It took several whimpers from Hongjoong’s throat, being mouthed mindlessly, before a final, desperate cry made the Martian pop his head back.
Hongjoong shuddered despite himself, not even realizing the wet tracks that spilled subtly over his cheeks. Immediately, the sight makes Seonghwa’s ears flatten, a worried knit settling in his brows.
“Yours feels different. Is it sensitive?” As he speaks, his antennae wriggle around mindlessly against Hongjoong's upper body, as if to comfort him. He duly notes that it tickles.
And at that, all Hongjoong can do is dazedly blink, his vision a swimming mosaic of Seonghwa’s pink, pretty face as he tries to figure out what the fuck he’s talking about. By some miracle, a grunt works its way out of the back of his throat.
“I… What?” He blinks breathlessly, irritation flashing across his face to think Seonghwa had abruptly stopped to mutter something so benign. His scientific mind had taken a backseat, much to his chagrin, only dully sparking up at the acquisition of new, curious information. He manages to haphazardly point his gaze down to Seonghwa’s own… er, several organs.
Ah, right. Compared to Seonghwa’s freakish genitalia, Hongjoong’s singular appendage must seem rather boring. The thought is nearly enough to make him laugh, but not quite. His lips thin into a tight line, struggling to even know where to begin.
“It doesn’t, um… split like that. It’s all concentrated together.” He forces it out, awkward about even having to explain such a thing. There’s a short moment of Seonghwa squinting at him curiously, before it dissolves away into all but a gentle smile.
“Where feels best?” He asks simply, genuinely curious. Hongjoong swallows.
“Um, the tip…”
Seonghwa purrs at Hongjoong before closing his eyes to lean into the man with his giant head, nuzzling it against his stomach. “I see,” he says.
The fuzz of his ears, the cool metal, the grumble of his purr against Hongjoong's sternum. It wasn't rough enough to make him alarmed, or punch the breath out of him. Just a head softly kneading him, deep ripples and vibrato in the hum of his voice, with little beaded hairs clinking and tickling about. And then, with freakish focus and a svelte smoothness, Seonghwa wanders his mouth right back around Hongjoong’s cock.
He jerks and finally, belatedly, snaps his knees inward with a sharp yelp. They grind uncomfortably into the sides of Seonghwa’s head, a hand coming up to grab him by his pretty black hair and quite desperately yank on it. He forces Seonghwa's head up to meet his wild glare, beads and bands clinking together as his head sways.
“Stop that!” He seethes out, breathing hard, not sounding nearly half as demanding as he wanted it to with the way his whole body was shaking. Whether he liked it or not, he was going to come if Seonghwa continued. It was beneath him, or so he managed to convince himself, to orgasm from something as innocuous as this without even completing the study. And yet, it feels like his skin is on fire over every inch that Seonghwa touches. He’s too incredulous, fevered that this is even happening right now. He’s afraid he won’t have the awareness to stop himself before it’s too late.
Still, none of that really seems like a good justification. For all he knows, Seonghwa’s species could be capable of fucking for hours, or have orgasms that last entire minutes. Judging by his puzzled expression, Hongjoong guesses it’s something of the sort.
“You have to... get on to other things, for study,” he awkwardly manages, clearing his throat in an effort to sound like he wasn’t just crying from the rapidness of his near-orgasm. His eyes looked heavy and foggy, a strangely cute expression on his face compared to the permanent scowling now that all his power had been stripped away. His words no longer held the same weight.
“Take that off already,” he demands smally, brittle with annoyance. “How am I supposed to study you with it covered?”
Seonghwa was beginning to think the human would never ask. Compliant and appeasing as ever, he settled Hongjoong on his lap, a flush of warmth coming from the skin contact with the higher purpose of freeing the Martian’s hands. He delicately reached behind himself, undoing the threads around his hips that connected his skirt together, before letting it fall off to the side.
What Seonghwa exposed as he pulled the fabric away was something equal parts terrifying and incredibly attractive. There, sitting between Seonghwa's bare, star-speckled thighs, was something that could resemble a phallic member if it weren't for the way it split at the base into about five different, independent and wriggling appendages. Each of the dexterous tentacles were as thick as Hongjoong's own cock at the base, only slimming towards the blunt tips, and yet each held several inches of length over him.
The lighter side, the ‘inside’ of the tentacles, were lined with some flexible texture vaguely resembling suction cups. Perhaps Hongjoong would recognize it on sight alone, although they were slimmer and more discreet. Hongjoong couldn’t help but balk, racking his brain for the possible purpose of such a thing.
“In our species, we talk about things like… how wet, and fertile we are. Dirty things,” Seonghwa coos softly, meeting Hongjoong with a low-lidded stare before glancing down at his own body, the thick and clear fluid gliding between the tentacles as they writhed against each other in subtle self-pleasure. “On my planet, I produce a very satisfying amount of slick… or so my reviews say.”
Hongjoong stared for several seconds at what he was looking at. Slick and self-lubricating, he realized. It was waiting for something to latch onto or curl around.
It had been quite some time since Seonghwa had done this, considering his travels. “Would you like me to… make this more familiar for you?” He asks suddenly, confusing Hongjoong with the vague question. The scientist can’t help the way his face slightly scrunches, blinking at Seonghwa wildly.
“Uh, how?”
And with a small smile, Seonghwa holds onto Hongjoong for a moment before reaching down and introducing his hand to his writhing organ. At first they curl around his large digits excitedly, a blush spreading across Seonghwa’s cheeks, until he coaxes them together slowly. They begin to twist and twirl around each other, linking up, connecting with his assisted guidance until they finally resemble something akin to a single phallus. A weak, well-intentioned attempt at mirroring something similar to Hongjoong’s own. His mouth falls open.
It would’ve been very flattering, if not for the way the combined length produced a cock the size of his fucking thigh intending to somehow fit into him. From between each slender crevice where one met another, a translucent liquid oozed out from the pressure, fat drops splattering onto the lab floor.
“Like this?” Seonghwa tilted his head pridefully, attempting to ‘show off’ to Hongjoong his own dexterity, or ability to properly imitate. Despite everything, Hongjoong felt a blush fiercely spreading to his ears, brows shooting to his hairline.
... Could those even fit inside him? How did he orgasm? What did his cum even look like?
He was feverishly aware of his own body in preparation, the mild fear of what this could do to him, what breeding with an alien would even be like. And yet, something about it was about equally as arousing. A fantasy he had stored deep, deep down beneath his subconscious.
“You can do that…” Hongjoong attempted to sound indifferent, gaze wandering to Seonghwa’s shoulders. His heart felt like it was going to leap into his throat.
With a small look of determination, Hongjoong lifted his leg to wordlessly nudge it against Seonghwa’s shoulder before lifting it up. Seonghwa snaked his hands under the scientist’s bottom, lifting him just as Hongjoong straddled his legs around his shoulders. He spread his thighs, feeling a heat race through his skin as he, begrudgingly, presented himself properly to Seonghwa on a platter. The two hands engulfed his ass almost eagerly, supporting him in an instant. With everything but a verbal invitation, Seonghwa wasted no time letting his fingers explore the hole waiting for him.
Against his better wishes, Hongjoong couldn’t help but tense up when those digits brushed him. He let his eyes flutter shut in preparation, knowing better than to assume an alien would have the anatomical knowledge to stretch or prepare him properly. Seonghwa’s finger alone was thick and dense despite the impressive dexterity. Hongjoong only had a second to prepare himself before one was slipping, a bit callously, into his ass.
He sucked in a hissed breath, hyperventilations unwillingly finding him. It hurt, of course it did, and he felt small and helpless as a short wave of pain rushed over him. He bit down on his lip just as Seonghwa gave his first experimental thrust, but it wasn’t enough to keep the sharp gasp that poured from his lips.
It was pretty hard to stifle that down, all things considered. His spine arched up instinctively away from the prodding hand, like being fucked by something nearly dildo-sized yet completely dry. His fluttering breathing had only quickened, tightened down around Seonghwa's digit like a vice. Fortunately for him, Hongjoong was pretty accustomed to pain, and masochistic to boot. He didn’t staunchly pull away, even despite his body’s protest.
Thankfully, Seonghwa hesitated, finding the hole to be upsettingly tight. If Hongjoong looked, he would see the disappointment heavy on Seonghwa’s face, mixed in equal parts with his concern.
“It… does go here, right?” Seonghwa asked almost exasperatedly, leveling the scientist with a disbelieving look. Hongjoong mustered up a scowl.
“Yes, it really does…” He murmured with his head tipped aside, groaning off towards nothing. He let the dreary silence hang for a moment before a sudden sensation at his neck made him shiver.
The hand in his bottom hadn’t moved, but a new pair of antennae found themselves tickling his throat before Seonghwa’s face followed. He had the sweet idea to lean up and drag his tongue against Hongjoong’s exposed throat, trapezing brazenly to his jawline and even some of his cheek. It lapped adoringly, a bit like a large puppy, and Hongjoong acknowledged distantly the attempt to soothe him. It worked only slightly, with his body relaxing somewhat. The tongue spiraled little tingles of pleasure.
Seonghwa brushed his nose up against Hongjoong’s ear, then. With his voice low, he whispered into it, deep and heady.
“Kim Hongjoong, I wonder… Will you accept my courting properly?” He nipped the lobe with fanged teeth, gentle enough not to hurt, and the knowledge that the tenderness was deliberate made his guts roll. “We should agree, together, to go all the way…”
Hongjoong hesitated, breathing heavily with his eyes closed. What was that supposed to mean? He wasn’t sure if this was simple formality, or if it was culture, but a word stuck out to him glaringly.
Bonding.
He should’ve been put off by it, and yet… Something about the way Seonghwa asked it, low and crooning and all-encompassing into his ear, made his stomach flutter with butterflies.
He was sitting here, prone and straddled into the air, this handsome creature positioned between his legs. And, despite his complaints, Hongjoong had admittedly caught himself awed at the beauty of this unnatural creature. Whose sprawling limbs dangled over every edge of his cushions as he rested, whose soft hair spilled out over the fabric in perplexingly beautiful vulnerability, unable to help himself from brushing his fingers through it once, frightened, as if it’d fracture apart and dissolve away. He’d been hoping for something — someone — like this his whole life. And now here it was, prettier than he could imagine, more demure and patient than he could’ve known.
Even despite Seonghwa’s innate roughness, Hongjoong knew he had no intentions other than to fuck him just as earnestly as he sounded while promising it. Sweetly, and deeply, and that he meant every ounce of roughness just as much as he meant his carefulness.
Hongjoong admittedly wanted to make this decision hastily. He didn’t want to think about anything else, about the month leading up to this which made it all too complicated. The dangerous thought arising in his chest, that Seonghwa had actually been nothing but pleasant and, at times, genuinely amusing to Hongjoong since knowing him. Even despite his efforts to simplify him into nothing more than a future vivisection, a house pet to feed. His otherwise dull and isolated life had perked up slightly since the extraterrestrial’s arrival. But the two were unrelated, right?
With a long, deep breath, Hongjoong pushed the thoughts deep away and obeyed only his body. His hands yearned to reach forward and twirl his small fingers into Seonghwa’s hair, and so that’s exactly what he did.
“You’re representing the entirety of your species, so be thorough.” He puffed once through his nose, voice soft despite the intensity, the look in his eyes like a powerful tide. Like a small lion, Hongjoong had determinedly made up his mind. Seonghwa trilled low and happy from the back of his throat, eyes enormously dilating.
“Then, I will continue…” He giddily rushed out, shamelessly beaming his bright, gut-wrenching smile. Hongjoong had never known what Seonghwa looked like with such an expression on his face. Like a star, where he’d crash-landed into Hongjoong’s life.
He got to watch curiously as Seonghwa lowered his own hand down to his squirming mound of tentacles, letting them curl around and soak his digits in a generous layer of lubrication. It seemed he had put some pieces together during the short pause, which provided him the insight to lube himself properly before trying to poke Hongjoong again. Thank god.
Like the often overly confident creature he was, Seonghwa then brought that hand back to his backside, glossing his finger once over the hole before promptly sliding it in a second time. This time, it glided right in, smooth and swift as he buried himself to the knuckle instantly — and Hongjoong nearly flung off him in response.
Christ, that finger was huge. He braced both hands onto Seonghwa for dear life, choking on the moan that more or less punched itself out of his throat. He froze tight and taut around the digit, considerably less painful, but still a jump in stretching from prior. He tried to collect his rapid breathing, blinking at the ground repeatedly.
“Good?” Seonghwa calmly asked.
“Thick, just thick.” Hongjoong forced a deep breath, using every ounce of control not to curse Seonghwa back to the stratosphere. “ Really deep.”
Seonghwa hummed, noting it wordlessly. To prevent any more of his little wiggling, Seonghwa used that supporting hand to tighten his grip around Hongjoong’s waist, digging his nails in slightly. Hongjoong let out a little whimper, stilling compliantly.
Without another word, Seonghwa began pumping the finger in and out of him steadily, marveling at the way Hongjoong’s jaw fell open and short, sweet little gasps began milking from his throat. Seonghwa couldn’t help but smile, wringing out each one with delightful simplicity, nothing more than a pointer finger having the human falling apart.
Seonghwa would be lying if he said he wasn’t inherently attracted to it. It would’ve been more common to find a partner larger than himself in his society, given his stature and status, but he’d never really bonded much with other peers in his cluster. Humans were a bit perfect. He was so pleased at the size of them, by Hongjoong particularly. That usually tired, irritable little face had completely transformed into something surprisingly cute. And, well, he hadn’t been opposed to the idea of bonding being a potential form of peace if that’s what his mission demanded of him.
Turned out, he just liked Hongjoong a bit more than he was anticipating.
Seonghwa leaned down and suddenly dragged his tongue down the length of Hongjoong’s whole abdomen, shirt pushed up to his collarbones, dragging across hip bones and nipples and up to his cheek as the boy relented a small squeak. Without the foresight to stop himself, Hongjoong’s hands flew up, grabbing Seonghwa’s hair and fluttering to his ears.
He clung on, holding his face close, Seonghwa smiling ear-to-ear as a trill fluttered from his throat.
“Stop,” he tried to complain, staggering in a breath.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t…”
Hongjoong’s eyes flew open, just as Seonghwa reached down and lined his mass of tentacles up. The scientist jerked, tightening reflexively, the sudden absence of that finger leaving him abruptly hollow. A final stroke of fear got the best of him as he futilely balled fists into Seonghwa’s locks, the first impression of genuine fear darting across his features.
“Don’t push — you’ll hurt me, please. ” He blurted out anything, unable to tear his eyes away as he watched, mouse-like. For the first time, Seonghwa was the one to let his eyes flutter shut.
“Hush. I’ve prepared you properly…” He did his best to explain himself despite slowly trying to shove the first, messy inch of himself into Hongjoong. It went well enough, slicked with lube, tentacles wriggling their way in eagerly. “Please, trust me?” He moans softly, a wet sound as he pushes into Hongjoong properly, several inches slipping in at once.
Hongjoong gasps, clenching up in surprise. His cock leaks, betraying himself across his tummy, so devastatingly hard he wants to cry.
Seonghwa trails off as he struggles and eventually pauses. The thought occurred to him, sideways and intrusive, that it was going to be really difficult to lay eggs in Hongjoong like this. This was frustrating, especially to Seonghwa's horny, increasingly desperate state.
With a growl, low and impatient, he grunts into Hongjoong’s throat. “You're tiny .”
Goosebumps flourish across Hongjoong’s skin. He freezes like a loser, faced with an unfitting mental image of Seonghwa possibly biting him, unwillingly darting through his mind. He feels helpless speared several inches deep on his cock, so why does it instead serve to make his own neglected erection dribble pathetically against his stomach at the thought? He clenches hopelessly, stupidity and arousal taking over.
It’s practically splitting him in half already, so he isn’t sure why his mouth falls open despite all the proper protests and rationale his mind has.
“I… I can take it,” is what he decides to say, weak and trembling and determined despite all odds. Despite his prior complaints, despite the very real danger he might put his body in. He was probably insane. But he was also so, so frustratingly horny.
Seonghwa hesitates, eyes screwed shut, breathing hard into the crook of Hongjoong’s neck as his tentacles wriggle impatiently. “All of it?” He mutters incredulously, like the tip of a blade. But he meant it. Meant more than Hongjoong realized.
Hongjoong hesitates, his walls aching, tendrils trying to fuck up. Then he nods.
The Martian flashes in the forefront of his mind. Always hyper aware of it, of Seonghwa's big, unnatural eyes and twitching ears, the large hands cradling him in the air like a doll. He forces himself to look down at their bodies, finally seeing for the first time what was fully about to be pushed into him. With all of them together, it was thick as his thigh at the base, maybe his arm at the mid-way. The tip was the easiest, and possibly the only thing he could take.
“D-Don't break me on this thing,” he spares the final warning, to very little avail. Dread had always been somewhere in his mind from the start of this ordeal, but it took a bit of a front seat now, finally piloting him into some sensible action. If Seonghwa decided to literally rearrange his guts anyways despite Hongjoong’s pleas, he’d be helpless to stop him.
“I am not going to break you,” Seonghwa says a little too quickly, squeezing Hongjoong’s hip sharply. “But if you move too much, I may hurt you. Be still.”
And so, Hongjoong promptly shuts the fuck up. The Martian’s confidence didn’t ebb, but his perspective slightly did as he wedged another inch down and faced the girth steadily widening. The muscles of the tentacles flexed responsively into this ribbed thing that Seonghwa, frankly, wanted to impale Hongjoong on immediately . There was no way this was going to work, as annoying as that was, but this was only one of the ways that he could do this.
By all biological functions, the ovipositor didn't need to be inside the host to lay the eggs, just suctioned onto an opening that led to something incubating. If he couldn’t lay the eggs inside of Hongjoong from the start, Seonghwa just needed to get close enough to push them into the warm, tight hole waiting for them.
That was, after all, the purpose of all those dozens of little suction ridges. It was important to get a good seal.
Did Hongjoong know that? No, not really.
In his state of being uncommitted to pulling out of Hongjoong without putting up a greater fight, and simultaneously trying to calculate his best way to do this, Seonghwa became acutely aware of the state Hongjoong was in. He was moving a lot, that wasn't difficult to tell, but he was also panting. As Seonghwa carefully worked his hips in with a staggered, shallow rhythm, Hongjoong’s chest was flailing like a fish out of water, struggling to get a good breath in.
The amount that Seonghwa could comfortably sink into him before Hongjoong began to cry and squirm was barely enough to make him satisfied, yet Hongjoong was completely crumbling apart under him. He exhaled under his breath exasperatedly.
Has he never mated before? Seonghwa had never asked if Hongjoong was already bonded. He’d assumed that humans were like Martian’s. If they were bonded, they were often nesting together. Yet, Hongjoong was the only human Seonghwa had seen in the flesh. He slept upstairs where Seonghwa wasn’t allowed, but there was never the scent of another human up there. No smells, no noises. Like a cloud, the thought came trickling in, slow and heavy.
Clearly Hongjoong had never dealt with this much before, then. He was scared, the Martian rightly assumed. That was endearing. Like a frightened cat hissing at him, thinking that he was big and powerful.
“Calm yourself,” he ordered suddenly, stopping his movements completely. Seonghwa assessed their conjoined bodies with a frown. “I have… an idea.”
Hongjoong stilled in confusion as Seonghwa gently pulled himself out, relenting only a weak gasp. The tentacles were still writhing around as they began to peel away from one another, one at a time, returning to their wriggling original state.
Seonghwa hesitates then, little tendrils tickling curiously against Hongjoong’s thighs. “I would like to wrap myself around you this way…”
He poses it as a question, but Hongjoong knows nothing about Martian biology, so all he’s left to do is balk at Seonghwa stupidly with a mouth-agape expression. He has half a mind to be annoyed.
“What? I don’t know, I don’t care, do something, just… hurry.” He manages to sound impatient, annoyed that he even has to prolong his orgasm any longer. Seonghwa is beginning to learn that amongst all of Hongjoong’s very endearing traits, a tad of selfishness was certainly among them.
Well, Seonghwa has only been anything but obedient. He makes swift work sliding their hips forward, connecting them as his tendrils suddenly ensnare around Hongjoong’s thighs.
They slide eagerly, leaving paths of sticky lubricant in their wake. Hongjoong’s eyes dart around hurriedly, the unusual sensation washing over him. He can’t help but squirm a little, if only because it slightly tickles, and flushes him warm all at the same time.
A single tendril ends up wrapped around each of his thighs, two curling up his front and mindlessly wrapping around the length there. One one of them anchors its suction against Hongjoong's tailbone, and the sheer sensation of that makes him grunt softly as it cradles him. He can’t see it, so he can’t tell immediately what's happened, but his face drops and he looks up to Seonghwa with raised brows. He’s so clearly begging for an answer that the Martian can’t help but smile.
“Feels good?” He smoothly asks, tentacles moving with a mind of their own as they pump down Hongjoong’s length once, sloppy and explorative. Hongjoong bites down on his lower lip, looking conflicted.
“Did it just suction me?” He asks incredulously. It’s like his entire crotch is being consumed by a warm, wet and sticky flower. Once everything settles, his whole pelvis is swathed by this kneading, leaking mass, pressed groin-to-groin with whatever resides at the very root of Seonghwa. Perhaps a slit. Were they all retractable? His mind swims dazedly.
“To hold you easily,” Seonghwa hums, paying the concern no mind. He’s been watching this silly little human breathe to see if there were any changes, and seems pleased with the results. “Are you calm now?”
Hongjoong isn’t sure how to respond at first, unaware Seonghwa was even focusing on such a thing, but the sudden question makes his cheeks flush suddenly. He feels demure, nodding once shyly, blissfully unaware of why Seonghwa would even care.
“Just hurry, please.” He complains under his breath, huffing.
Seonghwa nods. “I know. If you’re ready, I’m going to put something in you.”
“Like, an appendage?” He whispers. Seonghwa leans down, nuzzling their foreheads together, which makes the scientist even more puzzled.
“An egg.”
And at that, Hongjoong stops. Somehow, it surprises him. Why didn’t he think of that? An egg.
“ Egg? ” He parrots back blankly. Of course it’d be an egg. Seonghwa lays eggs.
Seonghwa hasn’t seemed to process the tone. He nods again, ruffling their hairs together, kneading small dimples of tenderness into his thighs.
“All the way,” is all he says, a painful mirror of his words earlier, and Hongjoong feels his heart stutter in his chest.
“I didn’t mean that. I thought… But I can’t…” He tries to hide the way he’s panicking, but all the force in his voice has been long gone. Seonghwa opens his eyes to study Hongjoong’s unusual reaction.
“I… can’t?” He tilts his head, brows knit. He looks like he’s been misled. Hongjoong manages a glare.
“You didn’t tell me this ended with a fucking egg .”
“It comes with a climax. I thought it was implied.” Seonghwa’s ear flicks innocently.
Hongjoong wants to be angry, but more than anything, he just feels stupid. And besides, Seonghwa is still sitting there, latched around him, dully throbbing and milking him and making it impossibly hard to think. He chews his lip, trying to steady his breathing and failing. It’s so easy to get lost in the feeling, of the soft lull against his hole as he imagines being fucked properly like he deserves.
If he didn’t want it to get this far, he could’ve stopped a long while ago. But he didn’t.
“Is it too late?” He asks quietly, almost afraid. Seonghwa pauses.
“If I’d like to orgasm, it’s inevitable.”
Hongjoong can’t help but cringe. He can’t imagine having to push out full eggs, but then again, his own ejaculation is basically just that but smaller. The thought, however, does make something sideways occur to him.
“Um… Just one egg?” He pries, raising a brow. “A little one?”
Something about the way he asks, for whatever reason, makes something on Seonghwa’s features soften suddenly. To his surprise, the Martian laughs, warm and bubbling and Hongjoong hates the way it fizzles out across his skin like a warm patina, ebbing away his nerves. Maybe it’s the barest hint of interest in where this is going, but suddenly Seonghwa is just grinning, gazing at Hongjoong fondly.
“Several. Maybe they’re big to you, but small to me.” He brushes his nose against Hongjoong’s mindlessly.
He thinks for a second, eyes descending down to their conjoined bodies again. Impregnated with an egg. His stomach knots up in conflicted whirls.
“D-Does it stay..?” His voice gets softer and softer, hardly a peep. As if Seonghwa can tell, he shakes his head, leaning closer and closer in. When he speaks, his words hover at Hongjoong’s lips, brushing against his own.
“Not unless you want them to. Or I could put them deep inside you and let them incubate, so you can’t get them out. I could make you carry.”
Hongjoong hates the fire that licks at his insides, but he fiercely shakes his head. “Absolutely fucking not. I want them out. You hear me?”
Seonghwa, feeling obedient and lazily licking his jawline, nods. “Then I won’t.” And Hongjoong trusts him.
He thinks that’s his cue to let himself breathe, although the very real threat still looms in the air. Maybe he’s a complete idiot for instilling all his trust into an alien of all things. But his arousal is so loud, and his mind so fogged, and the thought of being filled so tempting and deep. As if Seonghwa is waiting for his green light, Hongjoong lets his eyes flutter shut, biting hard onto his bottom lip.
“Don’t betray me,” he whispers a final time, suspending everything in the air. And then, with Seonghwa’s kiss, he feels a shudder.
It’s a soft motion, grinding his hips forward, almost as if he were fucking but without the penetration. It still feels good in its own way, with the more independent tentacles following the set rhythm, gliding up and down Hongjoong with similar strokes. It feels like an eternity, but really more like a handful of seconds, before he’s surprised by Seonghwa’s sudden grunt.
His eyes fly open, watching his face carefully. The Martian’s eyes are screwed shut and his mouth agape, hot breaths slipping out as he slowly grinds. Hongjoong’s eyes slowly wander down just in time to see what all the moaning is about. Something nudges his entrance. The tentacles bulge, and Hongjoong can see the rounded top of something thick and spherical steadily pulsating its way into him. More than anything, he can feel it.
It pushes against him, resistant at first, and then his hole spreads compliantly with a punishing, guttural stretch. Hongjoong lets out a noise of shock, thicker than he imagined, but he allows himself to be lax and compliant to accept it. It is bigger than he imagined, despite Seonghwa’s mildly helpful warning. Pushing him to the brink of what he thinks he could reasonably handle, and just to there. It teeters on the line between painful and mind-bendingly perfect, almost too much, but also exactly what he needed.
It’s a lot. It squeezes in, past the resistance, and the sudden feeling of being filled makes his cock throb with sudden excitement before it simply, suddenly becomes too much. He clenches down hard, just as the first egg pops in. The noise that whimpers out of him is simply debauched.
Seonghwa opens his eyes to notice, seeming surprised at Hongjoong’s state. “Cute…” He mutters under his breath, as if slipping out all on its own.
Hongjoong estimates the egg is about the size of a tennis ball, although it’s impossible to truly tell. He’s left sucking in breaths, chest rising and falling as he tries to fathom the thing that’s in him now. He wonders if he even has time.
Of course, he doesn’t. The second one comes faster, Seonghwa shakily exhaling again, and this time the pulsations are more profound. His hole is more used to the stretch, but this one also pushes in far more persistently, choking out a moan when it pushes past before Hongjoong can even properly breathe.
He gasps, high and surprised, and then there’s another. He recognizes now, fully, that the process has started. A bit slow at first, and then it goes fast, overwhelmingly so.
It prods his entrance, shoving in, but Hongjoong already feels full. Inexplicably, a small hint of fear begins to take hold as the tears well in his eyes, hyperventilating hard.
“How many are there?” He asks hurriedly, features pale-stricken, but his body accommodates regardless. The next egg pushes past and he whimpers, already presented with another at his hole.
Seonghwa perks up with an unsuitable slur, murmuring heatedly into his throat. “Four to eight, but I have a strong clutch.” Fucking asshole.
“Fuck,” Hongjoong cries to the ceiling, cock twitching against his tummy. He dares to look down as the other slides in, just in time to see his stomach swell with the motion, like the fourth was finally enough to make his belly inflate to life. At the same time, Seonghwa’s eyes also open to take in the sight, blushing to his ears.
“You look pretty pregnant…” He purrs, and it’s another thing just slipping past his lips, mindless and unfiltered in all sincerity. Seonghwa is only working harder, seeming to exist in this blissed-out, euphoric state throughout the entirety of his process. What becomes a heavenly fifteen seconds for Hongjoong’s short orgasm appears to be stretched out into endless time for the Martian, thoughts swimming in a thick soup of elucidated bliss. Even his eyes look glazed, unable to keep his mouth shut as little breaths slip out completely of their own accord. He must seem a bit drunk, to the human’s perception.
He gives another slow grind and Hongjoong moans with the squeeze down his spent, overstimulated length, milking him of every last drop into the dip of his navel. He thinks he can take it, and then he feels Seonghwa shudder again with another grind, and his resilience slips. In a humiliating instant, Hongjoong spurts across his own chest before he can stop himself, seized completely by his orgasm. It comes abruptly, tightening him down, just as Seonghwa fucks in another egg. Tallying five.
The realization of his orgasm has Seonghwa smiling. At first anyway, and then weakness flashes across his face, fevered by the display, and unbelievably flattered.
“Good boy,” he purrs. Hongjoong squeezes his eyes shut as tears slip down his cheeks, overstimulated to a breaking point. But it’s not nearly over yet.
Please stop at six, he silently begs, unsure if he’s even capable of another orgasm, unsure if he’s even hard again as Seonghwa’s tendrils relentlessly milk his cock. He wants it to end, but he also thinks, just maybe, that he could take it. That maybe, just for Seonghwa, he could bear the full clutch. Why does he like this freak alien so much?
Hongjoong reaches up and slings his arms around Seonghwa’s neck as he finally nuzzles into the safety, disappearing into the broad of his chest. It’s like he’s giving up on everything, surrendering it all to Seonghwa’s promise that felt like ages ago: I won’t hurt you, and I won’t do anything you don’t want.
Seonghwa only wants to bond with him. It’s all he’s ever wanted. Never good enough on his home planet, too small and effeminate for a proper mate, sent away on this isolating mission. To be nestled into for connection and warmth is to accept him, desire him, and he rumbles those series of alien clicks somewhere deep in his sternum where Hongjoong can feel them against his cheek. He scoops Hongjoong close and smothers him, cooing into the human’s ear while kissing his cheeks sloppily.
“.. ‘ve got you… Just a little more… One more, Hongjoong…”
Seonghwa works in six, and along with it, Hongjoong surrenders himself to an incredulous orgasm. One long and drawn out wave of pleasure that feels never-ending as Hongjoong nearly, completely breaks. It was kind of a helpful warning, and he wonders if Seonghwa even knows how many he’s going to release until he’s there, experiencing it, blissed out into delirium.
Either way, his orgasm is more dry and bordering on painful this time than he’d like to admit, rendering him spent instead of satisfied. His stomach is rounded and he feels impossibly fucked out as they all settle in, splattered white with cum and now a translucent smear of something, the shadow of a climax just nearly like the real thing across his stomach. Seonghwa gives another slow grind, leaving Hongjoong to tense up in preparation for another, but nothing comes. Admittedly, he’s grateful. His fingers twist texturally into his wisps of black hair as he weeps.
“Is it over..?” He dares to ask, afraid to look at himself. In the blackness of Seonghwa’s sternum, he can only feel the stretch of his belly, far more fond of the way Seonghwa secures around him like a blanket.
Seonghwa, on the other hand, is draped over him with his eyes screwed shut as he lightly pants. His fever begins to calm just slightly with the final wave of pleasure, but it’s clear it takes a moment for him to regain himself as it all ebbs away, equally as spent as Hongjoong probably feels. The thought musters up a twinge of sympathy, and with as much love and unnameable emotions in his chest as he can act upon, Seonghwa squeezes the human a little closer without thinking.
“Done…” He confirms breathlessly, exhales tickling Hongjoong’s throat. His hands, which are secured around his sides, dare to lightly press along the edges of his abdomen just to feel the protrusions — and it makes Hongjoong jolt, an awkward noise jumping from his throat.
For the first time, Seonghwa peels back, getting his first good look at him. It’s to check if he’s alright, at least at first, and then he sees the dizzying sight he’s made of Kim Hongjoong, and all words die on his lips.
His hair is strewn about, body a tight ball wrapped up under him, and his stomach swells considerably with Seonghwa’s clutch. Hongjoong is so small and skinny, usually such a thing is hardly noticeable on a larger Martian, but somehow, he prefers the sight of it swelling his belly into a cute pudge. Despite knowing better, that they’re completely incompatible and all chances are likely impossible, he wonders briefly if they’d ever take.
He’s beautiful. It leaves Seonghwa speechless, jaw agape. He takes several seconds to find his words. “Are you okay?”
Hongjoong, who had his eyes still closed, finds the courage to will them open. He looks down at himself, and Seonghwa sees the way the shock parses his expression, washing over him and then settling into something more signature: annoyance.
“You… You listened to me, right?” It’s incredible to the Martian how, when those bleary and glassy eyes settle on him, Hongjoong still manages to mildly intimidate him. It strikes all that sweet obedience right back into him, tempering down with a small smile.
“Of course. I think if I put them deeper, it’d kill you,” he says sweetly, never short of humor.
Hongjoong rolls his eyes, scoffing wet and frustrated. “Now what? I feel so full… . ” He doesn’t even want to think about it, or look at himself, but it’s definitely real. In an effort to be soothing, Seonghwa dares to bring a hand to his tummy, lightly petting him.
“Thank you,” he says softly, and he means it. “If it bothers you so much, next time I can put them somewhere else, but I’ve always wanted…” Seonghwa trails off for a moment, hesitating on his words. “I’ve always thought someone would look so pretty, with me in them. Together. So… I think you look beautiful.”
He seems simple when he says it, like there isn’t anything deeper to it, or maybe he just doesn’t want Hongjoong to look for it. But he feels something lingering in the air there, too scared to breach what . Like handling glass, Hongjoong pauses to pick his words carefully.
“I can… um, nest them for a little, if those are the… cultural habits you prefer…” He bites his lip nervously.
It’s unmistakable the way Seonghwa’s eyes immediately glitter. They widen slightly, a small clink of his jewelry as his ears betray him. “Really?”
Hongjoong doesn’t even know what the fuck he’s saying, but he nods, compelled by that endearing look. “I don’t see why not… It’s not like they’ll —” he stops himself, closing his mouth and then opening it again, “It won’t cause me any harm to wait an hour before disposing of them, so.” He shrugs lightly. “I’ll consider it a study.”
Seonghwa grins widely, masking no ounce of delight at the offer. “How kind of you, you’re a far better host than I could’ve imagined.”
And at that, Hongjoong’s mouth twitches. “ Imagined? ”
Seonghwa chuckles, glancing away to the ceiling. “Hmm, I knew very quickly upon arriving here that you humans don’t seem to have the receptors for pheromones, otherwise you’d have noticed instantly… I’ve been marking you for weeks.”
Hongjoong balks, looking around to his walls. “Wh — my house?! ”
The Martian nods. “Really, I wasn’t opposed to mating as a tactic upon arriving here. But you’re far cuter than I could’ve anticipated. I think the cushions could be rearranged in your middle-room to make a nest…”
“ Living room.” Hongjoong curtly corrects. Seonghwa grins.
“Should I carry you?”
“You…” The scientist heavily sighs. “Bring my notes. My stomach is already… uncomfortable.”
Seonghwa just hums, leaning down to pluck the clipboard off the floor. “I’ll do my best to explain the process to you.”
And all Hongjoong can do is level him with a grunt, doing his best not to read too much into Seonghwa’s oversharing as his gut says he should. Maybe having said gut pumped full of eggs isn’t a good time to be listening to that tricky organ, anyway.
He’ll ignore it, for now.