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The door slams shut and Yeosang lets out a sigh of relief, shoulders falling back against the soft couch cushion behind him.
“God,” he says, squinting his eyes open to meet the ceiling. Beside him, Jongho lets out a low laugh, and Yeosang squeezes his fingers around the sake bottle in his left hand tighter.
“I love him,” Yeosang continues, unwary at the lack of invite, “but do you ever think they’re just… really annoying?”
He looks at Jongho who’s facing Yeosang, but his expression is blank, or unreadable. Or Yeosang is just a drink too far in to tell.
A moment earlier, WooSan had left the door, giggling with Wooyoung’s hand shoved in the top of San’s shirt collar and San’s in Wooyoung’s back pocket, with Wooyoung planting a kiss on San’s cheek as he bid the stragglers goodbye– a goodbye kiss for San, who was going with him. And that had been just the final straw of a night of flirting after Yeosang had asked to hang out with Wooyoung , singular.
Jongho had joined in when he’d heard the commotion of San, the signal it was open invitation all of a sudden, and Yeosang had taken grace in his presence and strained eye contact with the younger when WooSan had been particularly gross– easily framed as a reluctance to affection, period.
Though Yeosang knows his motives are petty.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t say that…” He apologizes, maybe not particularly to Jongho.
Jongho starts his sentence with another low laugh. “No, hyung, I get it.”
“No, I really am like… happy for them, I guess,” Yeosang says.
“It can be a bit much,” Jongho encourages with a silent nod. He knows what to say. Knows how to get Yeosang too comfortable.
Yeosang had been drinking– first intended to be done with Wooyoung but later done in attempt to drown him out, or maybe drown out his jealous mind, whatever worked faster– but he was rarely caught this intoxicated with no occasion. And quite the opposite, Jongho had been sipping a beer for a while but hasn’t hit his normal day off’s liquor quota, so he’s sitting cold as a rock, making Yeosang feel vulnerable. All in Jongho’s living room, with Yeosang’s own bed a few floors away.
“They’re a lot but it shouldn’t bother me this much,” Yeosang sighs, head falling back again. “I’m just bitter because I’m single. And I haven’t gotten laid recently. It’s mostly probably that, I think.”
He should stop talking.
“Sorry,” he adds.
“It’s okay, hyung.”
There’s a smile in Jongho’s voice but Yeosang doesn’t look for it.
“I think we all know what it’s like being in the band. In the dorms,” Jongho continues; a beat later, “Well, maybe not WooSan.”
Yeosang laughs a little. “Fuck those guys honestly.”
“I think that’s kind of the problem, hyung.”
Yeosang laughs again, with Jongho in tandem, but when the giggles fall a second later Yeosang’s tone turns solemn again.
“I don’t know, man. I used to handle it better, or like, I at least had a couple different guys in rotation for a while that, like, got the job done, but they’re all in relationships now and Im, like, going crazy.” His eyes stay unfocused gazing at the floor as he rambles. “And I’ve tried like, once or twice since then, but no one’s, like– ugh , I feel bad, because it’s not their fault, but no one’s working out, you know?
“I just want to be fucked by someone who’s attractive and knows what they’re doing. That doesn’t feel like too much to ask.”
Jongho lets out a low chuckle and at that Yeosang’s eyes flash into focus and his cheeks flush– ( more, if that’s even possible, because he’s quite the red drunk anyway) – when he remembers who he’s talking to.
Yeosang doesn’t usually share like this, lest of all to his maknae. He meets Jongho’s eyes across the room and it’s piercing, despite the distance and the way the corners of his vision turn blurry.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay, hyung,” Jongho reassures with emphasis, almost coo-ing over the words with a pout that seems almost condescending, and Yeosang is forced to break the eye contact again when the teasing makes his stomach twirl and his dick twitch.
No, this is not what they’re doing.
Another side effect of the ill-thought out rambles of his disappointing sex life to Jongho is that it incidentally brings Jongho into his sex life– this is why he needs Wooyoung back, because he isn’t Yeosang’s type at all and it puts him on a much less slippery slope than Jongho is right now, in a t-shirt with his big arms out and one hand holding a beer bottle by the neck, resting on his exposed thigh where basketball shorts ride up.
Jongho who has dark, serious eyes but can play the condescending sympathy like no one who’s ever dommed Yeosang before.
“What is it you’re looking for, hyung?” Jongho asks, low, inching closer. Yeosang gulps and Jongho elaborates, “What’s your ‘type’?”
“Um,” Yeosang starts, unsure, but Jongho’s fixed on him, so he continues. “Someone strong,–” (he feels his eyes flicker to Jongho’s arms before he catches himself)--- “I really don’t like twinks, which is hard, being an idol,” he jokes, and Jongho laughs along with him.
“That rules out most of my friends,” Jongho says with a nod. “No Wooyoung then?”
Yeosang scrunches his nose. “Ew, no.”
Jongho just laughs.
“Wooyoung tried to set me up with a couple different friends of his but they’re all, like, tinier than I am. And it just makes me self-concious. Or they’re just, like, annoying, to be honest. And I love Wooyoung, but you get it? Like, I love how annoying he is, he’s my family, but, like, I’m not trying to be out-bottomed at my own dick appointment, you know?”
“I get you.” Jongho nods, once again inching closer. “So no twinks, no bottoms, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Yeosang says, suddenly embarrassed. He’s a little dizzy and a headache is starting to brew. “I don’t mean to be so picky, but, like… you know?”
“Yeah, hyung, I understand,” Jongho assures. “You’re not picky, but you can’t help what you need , hm?”
When Yeosang, breathless looks for Jongho again, he’s much closer than he last remembered him being and he’s doing the little condescending pout again. Yeosang’s heart stops in his chest. He feels the twirl in his stomach again but this time he certainly can’t deny, however much he wants to, the way the feeling trails all the way down to a twitch in his cock.
“Um,” Yeosang starts, but when there’s a beat of silence, Jongho deosn’t let him continue.
Because Jongho’s read him like a fucking book and knows exactly what he needs , which is to shut his mouth and turn off his brain and follow along.
So Jongho speaks for him.
“I think I know someone who can give you that, hyung,” he says seriously, and Yeosang’s fluster continues to grow. “But you’re drunk right now, mmkay? So we can play some games or get you to bed but you can find me if you want my help, okay?
“And if you don’t want to, that’s okay too, hyungie. I won’t hold it against you.”
Yeosang meets his eyes and nods, closing his eyes to let his embarrassment finally begin to evaporate. Jongho always knows just what to say.
Yeosang makes it through just about half a round of League before he calls it quits, stumbling into Wooyoung’s unused bed in their apartment and staring at the wavy ceiling willing his seasickness to just cool it . He falls asleep somewhere between a mantra of thoughts reminding himself not to throw up and the way Jongho’s big hands gripped his bicep to guide his unsteady steps down the hallway.
*
Yeosang decidedly ignores it until another desperate horny night– which honestly only takes a couple more days, because at this point in his dry spell his composure slips by the hour.
When he’d woken up, in Wooyoung’s bed, to the latter throwing the covers off him and screaming , Yeosang had nothing but a pounding headache– just as much Wooyoung-related as it was to do with his hangover– and a fuzzy memory of what happened the night before.
He recalls frustration with WooSan that ended up with him admitting to Jongho that he couldn’t get laid, and Jongho recieving some of his misguided horniness– which is unsurprising, to be fair; Yeosang is a flirty, horny drunk more often than not, which contributes to his typical reluctance to alcohol.
And the key point: Yeosang remembers Jongho offering his help, in the form of a friend.
And while Yeosang is usually more reluctant to seem so desperate, he’s alone in his bed right now scrolling softcore porn GIFs in his Tumblr likes which are getting him utterly nowhere .
He closes the page, swiping out of the app entirely, before opening his messaging app.
hey
sent, 10:24 pm
The reply is almost immediate.
Jongho
Hey
10:25 pm
i’m here to follow up on… things….
sent 10:25 pm
The next reply takes a little longer, and Yeosang is fiddling with the idea of opening his Tumblr app back up when he receives another message.
Jongho
come to my dorm
10:29 pm
Yeosang is up immediately, pulling his boxer briefs back up and grey sweatpants over his half-hard cock, losing mast in the moments between replies, and already in a black t-shirt that’s passable enough to be headed nowhere impressive. He slides his phone and apartment key in his pocket before heading out, giving just a wave as he passes Yunho who’s, as per usual, grinding Val in the living room with Mingi focused, headphones on, staring at his laptop screen on the other end of the couch.
He waits for the elevator and takes it up two floors to the other apartment, and reaches for the door knob just as it’s twisting from the other side.
“Hey,” Hongjoong says, unsurprised in meeting Yeosang. “I was just heading out.”
Yeosang gives him a quick glance and he’s dressed to the nines, in a fully black Balmain fit and styled hair.
“Ah. I’m here for Jongho.”
“Ah.” Hongjoong steps aside and lets him in.
Jongho is sat on the couch in a similar predicament to how Yeosang was a few days earlier, and Hongjoong says a simple goodbye before letting the door close behind him.
“Let’s go to my room,” is the first thing Jongho says, and Yeosang nods along, following closely as Jongho stands up.
“Wooyoung isn’t here, either,” Jongho says as they’re walking down the hallway, and Yeosang feels himself blush at the implicatio of them being alone , though he knows it means nothing. He watches Jongho’s thighs as they walk, still clad in black skinny jeans for whatever goddamn reason at this time of night, but Yeosang is forced to admit maybe his horny thoughts hadn’t been entirely fueled by alcohol– sue him .
It’s made slightly worse when Jongho holds his own bedroom door open for Yeosang– already ajar, though it’s the chivalrous thought that counts– before closing it behind them, giving them utter privacy in a way the dorms rarely allow for.
Jongho sits on the gaming chair at his computer and Yeosang looks around for just a second before settling on the foot of his bed, sitting criss-crossed.
“So, about my suggestion,” Jongho starts, at first staring just under Yeosang at the floor before looking up to meet his eye and continue, “Do you find me attractive, hyung?”
“ What?! ”
Yeosang feels his eyes flash black with surprise.
He catches Jongho’s mouth part, taken aback at the reaction, though he quickly goes back to stone-faced, looking at Yeosang and awaiting a real answer.
“I mean, what is this about, Jongho-ya?”
“Answer the question, Yeosang.”
Jongho leans forward, commanding, and Yeosang’s stomach twists hotly– minding the lack of honorifics, flustering him further.
Yeosang’s jaw drops, unable to answer, and Jongho stares at him for a second before leaning back with a chuckle. “I guess that answers that.
“Tell me now if I’m misreading this, Yeosang-ah, but if you’re looking for someone strong, not a twink , who knows what they’re doing…” Jongho uses his hands to vaguely reference himself as his sentence trails off, closing his eyes for just a second to let Yeosang discover the blush on his cheeks.
Oh, okay .
“And it’s not like I have people lining up to get with me either, so I’m making a suggestion.”
“ Bullshit, ” Yeosang calls, scoffing at the implication Jongho isn’t constantly being thirsted for.
“Not by people I want, Sangie-ah.”
Yeosang blinks at him.
“So you want me?”
“Yes,” Jongho answers calmly, cold.
Yeosang has to bite his lip, and the rush this time is felt all throughout his body.
“Okay,” Yeosang starts, though that doesn’t quite get it across. “Okay, yes , fuck, yes, Jongho-ya.”
“Okay,” Jongho says back, not quite mocking. He pushes himself up from the chair and makes his way over to the bed, where Yeosang readjusts so one of his legs is dangling off, the other pulled up to his chest. As he approaches him, he grabs Yeosang’s chin, between his thumb and forefinger though still applying enough pressure to demonstrate his strength, his dominance . “I’m going to kiss you now, Sangie-ya, okay?”
Yeosang nods eagerly, as much as he can with half of the other man’s fingers holding him in place. “ Okay. ”
At the angle, with Yeosang sitting down, he’s a few inches shorter than Jongho and Jongho uses his grip to lift Yeosang’s head up , aggressive, and Yeosang moans into Jongho’s mouth the second their lips meet.
Jongho pulls back just a centimeter to say through a condescending laugh, “ Desperate .”
Yeosang moans again, fighting against his hold to urge back into another kiss, done successfully, only for Jongho to grab his chin again this time with his full hand, digging into Yeosang’s cheeks.
Yeosang moves the leg that was too his chest that caused too much space between them and instead uses it to wrap around Jongho’s waist, bringing him closer while both of Yeosang’s arms grab his shoulders and back. Jongho uses his free hand to grab Yeosang’s waist, letting his fingers dig in there too, and he brings them close enough Yeosang feels Jongho’s boner grazing his knee. Fuck .
It only lasts for a second, though, because Jongho moves his hand off Yeosang’s chin and grabs his knee with it, fully spreading Yeosang’s legs and bringing that one to wrap around himself, too. Yeosang moans at the action.
“Fuck,” Yeosang curses between a breath for air. “You’re so– fuck .” Jongho cuts him off in another kiss.
With Yeosang’s crotch now exposed, Jongho palms the bulge.
“You’re so hard, babe,” he says. Jongho is the opposite of gentle in the way he gives friction to the clothed cock, seemingly unstrategized but oh, so intentional. “I know you’ve been waiting for this.”
“ Please,” Yeosang whines, burying his face in Jongho’s neck as his voice, already so debauched, sounds like he’s on the verge of sobs. Fuck , he might be. This is better than what he’d been yearning for, and Jongho had hardly even touched him yet.
He has half a second for the fleeting thought that Jongho better never fucking take this from him, because if Yeosang were struggling before , he can’t imagine living the rest of his life without this kind of touch.
He’s not left begging for long because a moment later, Jongho is pushing his hands under Yeosang’s thighs and fucking lifting him .
Lifting him .
Yeosang almost screams, because this is exactly what he fucking wanted, and Jongho is giving him everything he needs, and then Jongho is pushing him into a wall, and he screams for real .
“Shush, baby,” Jongho says. Yeosang has never heard a voice so deep in his entire life and that condescending lilt he does comes free with the dirty talk, it seems. “We’re in a shared building, yeah? You make such pretty noises but not now, Sang-ah.”
Yeosang whines, and Jongho bites his neck.
“Maybe someday we’ll take a nice little vacation where you can scream, but we have to keep it down for now, mmkay?”
Jongho bites his neck again.
Yeosang screams , and he cums.
His vision goes black for a moment and he can feel Jongho pulling his hair, hard , from the ends, and Yeosang starts a moan that turns into a full on sob as the grip his legs have around Jongho starts to loosen.
He falls into a standing position, though he can’t support his own weight, and he sobs into the crook of Jongho’s neck as Jongho pins him up against the wall.
Slowly, Jongho unpins him. Yeosang’s arms are wrapped as tightly around his neck as he can get them, but it doesn’t serve as much of a support as he falls forward onto Jongho, dead weight that Jongho supports with two strong hands on his hips.
He guides them to the bed and lets Yeosang fall on his back, Jongho pushing himself up on his arms just a few inches above him.
Yeosang shakes his head ‘ no ’, still crying as his jellified arms do nothing to keep their faces close, but Jongho just shushes him.
“Shhh, Sangie-ya. Baby,” he says sweetly– no longer faux, or teasing, just sweet. “You’re so beautiful.”
Yeosang whimpers at this, a little relief between sobs, and his previous tight-lipped frown turns into a panting quiver. He takes quick, shallow breaths for a moment as he finally opens his red eyes up to Jongho, tears still slipping.
“There’s my pretty boy,” Jongho says, smirking again. Yeosang something like chirps.
Jongho doesn’t falter at all when he switches all his weight to one arm, bringing his spare hand up to grab Yeosang’s chin again. Yeosang preens at the touch, and Jongho chuckles at the reaction before letting go, this time dragging his hand slowly down Yeosang’s neck and over his clothed chest as he does so.
“Sweet thing was so desperate, huh?” Jongho asks, hand still trailing aimlessly on Yeosang’s upper half; over the words, his middle finger dips into the hollow above his collarbone. “You must’ve been so pent up.”
Yeosang can’t find a single word, nor the strength to nod, so he just whimpers, hoping it gets the appropriate reaction from Jongho, whatever that reaction may be.
His arms have been lying limply at his side, and Jongho traces down his arms, touch featherlight in a way that makes Yeosang shiver , before grabbing one of his hands guiding it to the bulge in Jongho’s skinny jeans– fuck .
“Your sweatpants did nothing to hide how hard you when you got here.” Jongho drags his guiding hand from Yeosang’s to press against his bulge with a single finger, and Yeosang can feel the wetness clinging through the fabric.
Is it too late to get shy?
He fights a glance down, because that’s embarrassing, but his eyes flicker to Jongho’s and he can’t help a ditsy smile through an exhale.
And Jongho, sweetly, smiles back, gummy and cute, and his cheeks puff up, finally bringing Yeosang’s attention to how pink they are, and for the first time all night, Yeosang’s heart skips a beat .
He realizes, all at once, maybe a second too late, that this is Jongho , his cutie pie, his maknae, baby bear, who’s managed to totally wreck Yeosang in just a couple of minutes.
If there was any moment for a wake-up call, it passed when Yeosang let out a small moan at the thought and pushed the heel of his palm harder into Jongho’s cock.
Fuck, he needed him.
Yeosang’s head is nearly empty, he feels more refreshed than he has in months, though his legs are weaker than they’ve ever been. He feels dried tear tracks on his face and his eyes are still stinging, sweaty and uncomfortable with his dick pressed against wet sweatpants, overheated, on cloud fucking nine without a thought or feeling in his body but fucking needing Jongho.
“ Lemme suck you off ,” he said quickly, frantic.
After he speaks, he realizes Jongho was saying something he didn’t catch; oops .
Jongho halts mid-word stopping with his mouth open, immediately raising his eyebrow like some sort of threat. Yeosang preens.
“ Sorry ,” he moans. “I wanna suck your dick, Jjongie. Please? ”
When Jongho hears the request, his face softens; he looks impressed .
“Aw, Yeosang,” he coos. “You’re so sweet. I don’t mind focusing on you, babe.”
“ Please ,” he repeats, desperate, emphasizing, “I need to, Jongho. I want it so bad, please .”
“Okay, okay, okay,” Jongho stops his pleading with a gentle laugh– entertained, but not mean. “If Yeosang-ah insists.”
Suddenly it’s Yeosang’s turn to smirk, though his smugness does nothing to give him the physical uper-hand. He wiggles uselessly for a second, moving his one hand to drag over Jongho’s shoulder and the other testing his grip strength by squeezing Jongho’s cock– though he, possibly for the best, is fairly weak at the moment.
He pushes against Jongho’s shoulder and is unable to move him, and he juts hit bottom lip in a focused pout staring at his own hand. He flicks his wide eyes up to Jongho; “Help?”
Jongho chuckles at the request.
“Yeah, babe.”
Jongho readjusts so his weight is on his knees and Yeosang flails to grab onto any part of him he can, which ends up being loose around his outstretched forearms while Jongho grabs each side of Yeosang’s hips and drags him down , towards the edge of the bed.
Jongho sits back on his knees, sitting over Yeosang who’s flat on the bed.
“How’s this, Sang-ah?”
“Um,” Yeosang says, looking up at Jongho past his clothed bulge, just inches from Yeosang’s face. “You should probably take your pants off…”
Jongho lets out a low chuckle.
“Right.”
Jongho pulls back until he’s standing right off the bed at Yeosang’s feet, but instead of going for himself first he starts pulling at the waistband of Yeosang’s sweatpants, starting by undoing the draw string. Yeosang whines as he pulls it down, slightly embarrassed as his cock’s exposed, red, half-hard, and messy with dried cum. “Cute,” Jongho says, and Yeosang has to close his eyes for a moment.
His pants are discarded to the side and he reopens his eyes to see Jongho lifting his t-shirt over his head. Yeosang, getting the memo to do the same, tries to reach above his own head, but by the time he lifts his arms, Jongho is back leaning over him to assist in the process, tossing his shirt back towards the head of the bed.
That leaves Yeosang laid out on the bed, naked, exposed, but he can’t think much on it while he’s distracted by Jongho standing at his feet, unbuttoning his jeans to reveal black boxer briefs.
He pushes his pants down to his knees first before slipping his boxers down too, and as his cock springs free, Yeosang moans at the sight.
Jongho is so hard it’s making him dizzy just to look at, and if Yeosang had room for a free thought before, his dick is so fucking big that it’s taking up all of Yeosang’s mental space.
While Jongho is kicking his bunched up pants off his ankles, Yeosang is almost feral while he clambers onto his knees.
“Sit against the headboard,” Yeosang says, whiney. Remembering his manners, he adds, “ Please .”
Jongho chuckles and obliges him, crawling back onto the bed and settling with his back against the headboard, as requested of him. Yeosang climbs between his legs where his knees are bent and stables himself on them, using the weight to lean in and give Jongho a kiss.
He can feel him smile against Yeosang’s lips, and Yeosang hums at that, smiling back, while Jongho brings a gentle hand to caress over Yeosang’s lower back and tracing the curve of his ass.
Yeosang pushes into the touch, and he can’t spare an arm without losing stability, but he slowly moves both hands to rest behind Jongho’s waist, brushing the skin and bringing them closer.
Jongho pulls back from the kiss a minute, second, whatever, later to press his lips right at the junction of Yeosang’s jawline and ear, and Yeosang can’t help a moan at the contact.
He takes the moment to pull back, trying to level himself more with Jongho’s hips. While he manouvers, Jongho lets his guiding hand trail up Yeosang’s back and twist into his hair, not gripping but resting reassuringly.
Yeosang places a kiss to Jongho’s thigh, re-steadying a hand on the muscle there, and using the other to gently trail a finger up Jongho’s length, for the first time making contact with his cock.
Jongho shivers at the touch, letting out a noise so small Yeosang doubts he even heard it, but Yeosang smiles satisfactorily at it, spurring him to fully wrap his fingers around the girth and stroke it up and down.
Jongho’s dick isn’t quite the length of Yeosang’s hands, and Yeosang can wrap around his girth entirely and touch his thumb to his pointer finger, though he can do so without covering it completely– which is delightful . Yeosang’s big hands are a blessing, but even moreso is Jongho’s cock that isn’t dwarfed by them.
Confident, Yeosang finally leans down to take the head into his mouth, just enough to comfortably fit in his mouth before he struggles with his gag reflex.
He pulls off, looking up at Jongho as he says:
“Just so you know, I’m out of practice.” He’s still holding onto Jongho’s cock as he speaks, with Jongho’s hand in his hair, saliva trailing from the side of his mouth and cheeks still coated in dry tears. “And you’re big .”
“It’s okay, Sangie. You’re doing so well already.”
For the first time since it got there, Jongho uses his leverage on Yeosang’s head to press down on him, not forceful as much as suggesting. Yeosang follows along, moaning around Jongho’s cock as he takes it in his mouth, further this time.
It’s a bit of a challenge to keep his mouth open enough around Jongho’s dick, but he pushes it wider for a moment to let some spare saliva drip down the length he hasn’t reached yet, aided by his mouth watering as he works to suppress his gag reflex. He uses a hand to spread the saliva down the bottom and blinks up at Jongho with tear-filled eyes, who initially misses the glance due to his head being titled back and eyes squinted shut, though Yeosang releases his dick to cover Jongho’s hand with his own, applying more pressure on his own head. Jongho’s eyes snap down at that.
“ Fuuuck , Sang-ah,” Jongho moans out, and Yeosang does his best at a smile between the obstruction in his mouth, a couple tears slipping at the praise. “Fucking beautiful, baby.”
Jongho tightens his grip in Yeosang’s hair to hold him in place as he thrusts up , into his throat; at the same time, Yeosang screams around his cock, rutting his hips against the bed, dick painful from repeated friction, but he can’t help it . Jongho repeats the action and Yeosang screams again, tears falling, eyes tightly shut as grips both of Jongho’s thighs for his life, sore cock still ruining Jongho’s bedsheets where he’s hard and leaking again.
He gags slightly around the thrusts, but if Jongho notices, he doesn’t seem to care as he goes for it again , this time harder , deeper , and Yeosang can’t make a sound as he feels his throat filling up, but just in time, Jongho is pulling his hair back and just about throwing him off his cock; Yeosang doesn’t have time to protest, shutting his mouth and letting out a close-lipped moan as he swallows down the sour liquid.
“I need to fuck you,” Jongho says, nearly growling as he grabs Yeosang’s arms just by his elbow, causing him to lose his balance as Jongho pulls him forward, face-to-face. “You want it, baby? That’s what you came here for, right?”
Jongho punctuates his words with a glance down to Yeosang’s dick, and Yeosang, still reluctant to re-open his mouth, nods eagerly as Jongho flips him around to be underneath him.
He assumes his position on top with a knee between Yeosang’s leg, keeping them slightly spread. He reaches behind Yeosang to a bottle of lube, missed on the nightstand, and doesn’t waste a second before wetting a couple of his fingers and teasing them against Yeosang’s hole.
“You’re so fucking good, Sang-ah,” Jongho says, almost a growl in his voice, all while he pushes just his fingertips in, and Yeosang’s entire body writhes with a moan. “So fucking sexy, babe. You take it so fucking good.”
Yeosang easily takes Jongho’s middle and forefinger to the first knuckle, and it’s just as smooth when Jongho pushes his fingers in the rest of the way.
“Oh, please ,” Yeosang moans. “Please, Jongho.”
“Please what, babe?” Jongho asks, looking up at him with eyes dark, messy hair.
“Fuck me,” Yeosang asks, pouting.
Jongho seems to think on it a moment, and Yeosang might start crying again if he chooses to draw it out, but luckily, he’s merciful, pulling his fingers out slowly as he says with a sweet smile, “‘Kay, babydoll.”
Yeosang’s heart flutters, and Jongho wipes the lube off his fingers directly onto Yeosang’s hole, also adding the excess that dripped onto his palm.
“Should I get a condom?” Jongho asks, eyebrow raised.
“I don’t fucking care,” Yeosang spits, and Jongho glares at him.
“Answer, Yeosang,” he says scolding; Yeosang’s cock twitches. “Be reasonable.”
“No,” Yeosang answers; “Without, please, ” letting his words dip from petulant to desperate at the end.
Jongho stares at him for a moment longer, like trying to read him, before he settles with an, “Alright.”
He moves a leg over Yeosang’s so Jongho is surrounded by him, sitting up on his knees, and grabs behind Yeosang’s to wrap his legs around Jongho’s waist.
Like this, Yeosang’s spread open, hole nearly aligned with with the head of Jongho’s cock just resting here, and desperate, shameless, Yeosang arches his back, trying to move on a prayer that he’ll slip in a second sooner.
Jongho reads him, and doesn’t make him hold out, letting go of Yeosang’s left side to hold his cock in place at the perfect angle for Yeosang’s little movement to line them up. Yeosang moans at the unexpected success, immediately pausing as to not risk losing the feeling, and Jongho takes the moment to push his hips up, letting just the head finally breach him.
Yeosang is frantic, but has the sense to reach for the first thing he can grab, a pillow next to him, and holding it up to his face to he can scream into it.
The only time Yeosang is given to adjust is the moment it takes for Jongho to slowly let go of Yeosang’s leg, lose hold of his own cock, and resteady both of his hands to grip Yeosang’s waist. With the newfound leverage, Jongho grabs him, and all at once, pulls Yeosang fully onto his cock.
Yeosang screams again, and he can vaguely here Jongho chuckle above him, through an unsteady breath.
He isn’t given a movement; as soon as Jongho’s cock is hitting inside of Yeosang the deepest it can go, he’s pulling out and pushing it back in with just as much force, this time just getting a whine from Yeosang.
The pace keeps up, and it isn’t until Jongho pushes the pillow out of his face, leaning over him now, faces not inches apart, that Yeosang realizes he’s crying again. He holds back on the screams but keeps up a constant string of moans as Jongho’s perfect cock rails into him over and over and over and over…
“ Fuck ,” Yeosang yells out, whinily, as he finally loosens his finger’s hold on the pillow, rather sinking his fingernails into the skin of Jongho’s back and dragging down.
Jongho’s face is buried in Yeosang’s neck and Yeosang can feel his breathing, feel the stutter in it when he scratches. He lets out his own whine at the reaction he gets, urged to scratch more , trying to pull everything from Jongho that he can.
Something works , because Jongho is in his ear with a low, rough voice saying, “ Fuck , baby, I’m gonna cum soon.”
The effect is immediate.
Just the thought has Yeosang screaming again, cumming untouched a second time.
His eyes shut tightly and his vision goes white. His nails dig into Jongho’s skin, in place, trying to dig deeper , hold him there, as Yeosang rides out maybe the most intense orgasm of his life .
But the craziest part? Jongho just keeps going .
Yeosang is wincing in sensitivity as he feels the aftershock, cum spurting in small amounts mostly over his own stomach, but with each wave, Jongho is still pounding into him, unwavering.
When Yeosang comes to, he’s crying. Jongho still hasn’t stopped. He releases his nails from the skin of his back and brings his arms to wrap around Jongho’s neck, pulling himself up , so he’s breathing on his cheek, pulled closer to safety.
Jongho swears in his ear– “ Fuck , baby, babe, baby, fuck,” he babbles.
Yeosang whines with every word, with every thrust in, between sobs. “ Jongho ,” he pleads.
And finally, Jongho is groaning in his ear, pace finally stuttering, as his hands fly to Yeosang’s ass to angle himself as deep as he can get while he finally, finally cums.
Yeosang cries; ever so faintly, he can feel Jongho twitching inside him where he’s filling him up. It’s still too much, he’s so overwhelmed, and all he can do is cry into Jongho’s neck.
Jongho’s hands are on Yeosang’s hips holding them steady, still as he’s breathing heavy, blowing on Yeosang’s sensitive sweaty skin on his neck. Slowly, Jongho releases his fingers, gently pulling out as Yeosang unlinks his arms weakly, letting Jongho pull away.
As soon as Jongho moves out from between his legs, touch almost completely gone aside from a gentle hand that’s still trailing away from his hip, Yeosang turns onto his side, grabbing the pillow that was pushed away from him and clutching it to his chest, burying his face in it and bringing his legs up in an almost-fetal position. His crying is soft but it hasn’t stopped yet, so he lets slow tears drip onto the cotton.
He doesn’t flinch when he feels a hand come to rest steady on his shaking shoulder, nor when there’s a plush blanket pulled over just his legs. A second later, Jongho is laying down back next to him, pressing his chest against Yeosang’s back. He lays an arm over Yeosang’s waist, close, present, and lets the other climb from his shoulder to the back of his neck, fingertips just grazing the bottom of his hair.
“Shhh, Sang-ah. Hyung-ah,” Jongho whispers, reassuringly. He kisses him just below his ear. “Shhh.”
Yeosang whimpers into the pillow as his crying calms down, but he still shoves tightly-shut eyes into the fluff. Somewhere in that, he thinks he might doze off.
His eyes open when Jongho’s hand brushes his bangs, while Jongho is humming something unreadable behind him.
Yeosang has a headache. His throat hurts. He feels crusty tear tracks on his cheeks and cum dried on his torso, but he wakes with a small smile, satisfied, feeling something like complete for the first time in… God .
His face isn’t buried in the pillow anymore, and Jongho lifts himself up to look down at Yeosang, his own soft smile meeting him.
“There you are, hyung.”
Yeosang smiles up at him, unable to help a happy giggle.
It isn’t until a second later Jongho is leaning in closer to him when Yeosang realizes he’s going in for a kiss and Yeosang lets out a little screech, pushing him off of him.
That snaps Yeosang to sit up, pushing himself away from the dirty spot in the bed with a wrinkle in his knows. Jongho recovers from the shove and looks at Yeosang with a frown, beginning to ask, “Yeosa–?”
“I need to brush my teeth first,” Yeosang quickly explains, cutting him off as to not get the wrong message.
Jongho chuckles at that. “You know, I really don’t mind–”
“It’s not that,” Yeosang cuts in again. “My mouth tastes like vomit. Also, these sheets are dirty. Do you think Wooyoungie would actually kill me if he found me sleeping in his bed again?”
“Um.”
“Or,” Yeosang keeps rambling, a little glint in his eye with the ah–ha moment of his new proposal, “if you help me to the elevator, we can stay in my apartment tonight.”
Jongho still looks at him for a moment, before he switches to an endeared smile.
“Good plan, Yeoasng-ah.”
Jongho grabs Yeosang’s sweatpants from the floor and begins to help him into them, Yeosang giggling all the way.