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It’s a hot summer day and the heat slams Jongho into the doors of their motorcycle repair shop, the Outlaw Customs.
Their air conditioning system broke and it’ll only get fixed in a week or two. Wooyoung and Yunho refuse to work in these conditions so he’s alone with all the bikes and oppressive lights, natural and fake. Time is money.
To be fair, it’s the first time it stopped working. Their boss made sure their shop was fit to modern standards for the sake of efficiency and income. It was easier since he basically got the place for free from the previous owners so he could invest his savings into repairing it and getting the best equipment. When he asked them why they were giving it to him for free, they simply laughed in his face and left with smug smiles, eyes hidden under their hats, he said.
Thanks to them, the shop has automated systems which make it easier to free up the work space since they can hide the empty workbenches and tools under the floors with small lifts which get covered up by metal doors painted to look like concrete or flipping wall parts.
It’s amazing what people can do, no one would be able to guess the repair shop building was a club in the past.
It was a great club too, he doesn’t actively miss it since he didn’t frequent it often but it had the best music and Wooyoung loves to remind him of this. Jongho pours himself a glass of the freshly delivered lemonade from the huge jug, small and pleasant ways to cool himself down under the aggressive hot waves.
Looking at the floating lemon pieces mixed with some mint, puts him in a good mood for some reason. He’s ready to go, he smiles to himself.
Suddenly he hears a roaring engine, and it’s coming his way with a concerning speed. It’s not Seonghwa or Yeosang, he tells himself, the exhaust doesn’t sound smooth yet aggressive, it’s a loud sound where you could hear every shake of the pipes.
It’s getting closer and when he turns around, the bike is coming straight at him and the man riding it isn’t hitting the brakes. Jongho’s brain can’t quickly assess the situation, which rarely happens, so he freezes up instead of moving to the side.
The man backs Jongho into a wall and barely manages to stop right before him, losing all speed, still lightly bumping his leg and then pressing it with a hot, melting tire.
As Jongho calms down his beating heart, the feeling of bracing for impact belatedly settling into his bones, the guy takes off his black suede gloves, which don’t quite match his outfit, and throws them to the side. They hit the floor loudly with their spiky bands and chains, and the sound echoes through Jongho’s head.
With trembling hands, and he shares the sentiment, the man starts taking off his helmet. Though he can’t tell whether it's from riding such an unforgiving motorcycle as Harley or from almost crashing into someone.
The very first thing he sees is, obviously, his mouth, twisted in a wicked smile that feels all too familiar.
The scratched helmet is thrown into a wall, it lands on one of their work benches and rattles the hardware box before falling down on the floor.
Yet once it’s off, Jongho realises that he doesn’t know the man.
He leans over the peanut-shaped gas tank, looking upwards at Jongho with bright round eyes, and traces his painted pinky finger along the handlebar.
“Could you fix this for me?”
Jongho exhales, relaxing his back against the wall.
So much for the first impression.
***
The chilly summer days have come to an end and now it’s time for unforgiving temperatures that melt concrete. Regulations have loosened up, all sorts of unsupervised production increased and this summer is the hottest in the past few years.
That doesn’t stop customers from coming in. Jongho would think less people would be up for their preferred long or dangerous rides, deprived of fresh air and eager to squid. Sure, there are cooling vests and advanced technology for hoverbikes to keep them from overheating but one quick stop without an air conditioner is enough to make you sick, in his opinion.
Seonghwa and Yeosang, the loyal old school bike fans and Yamaha YZF-R6 riders, are exceptionally present in their shop nowadays.
From the first glance Yeosang doesn’t look like such a reckless driver. He is all manners and careful approach, soft-spoken and afraid that a light touch might hurt a puppy.
Yet it’s another day, and he’s here again, with a damaged bike and a proud smile on his face. He doesn’t do professional motorcycle racing, from what Jongho knows, so he is left guessing what road he rides illegally all the time.
Whenever he comes, Seonghwa follows shortly after. It’s not that they always ride together but they’ve totally become R6 buddies Jongho labeled them as when Yeosang moved here.
It looked like Seonghwa avoided Yeosang at the beginning, which became a topic of gossip between him, Wooyoung and Yunho. It sprang Wooyoung into action to defend Yeosang’s honour and patch their relationship and make, as Wooyoung called it, the most romantic love story Jongho could write about. Jongho and Yunho giggled behind his back over how quickly he got attached to Yeosang but they shared the sentiment that he looked like he needed protection.
In the end their assumptions were wrong and now Seonghwa and Yeosang hang out together a lot. Today he is here to check on Yeosang’s bike again.
Seonghwa bends over the motorcycle and Jongho can’t begin to imagine what he’s trying to inspect there when his back arches and his jeans slide down, revealing the white waistband of his boxers, and down again, exposing tight black fabric.
Jongho’s mouth dries out but he finds the power to say, to be polite, “Hyung, your jeans…”
Seonghwa turns his head, there is a question in his gaze and Jongho’s own eyes betray him and look down again, which makes Seonghwa instantly recognise the problem.
He blushes and lets out an embarrassed chuckle but doesn’t bother turning his back to pull the jeans up, his glistening sweaty biceps stare at Jongho as he does so, unsuccessfully. The waistband is still visible and they slide down again, accentuating the slope of his ass.
“Don’t have the time to tailor them,” he explains and Jongho can only dumbly nod. He sees the warm hue of Seonghwa’s shoulders through the soaked short sleeves of his white T-shirt and it’s distracting.
Seonghwa runs his hand across the front fairing, his straight, delicate fingers that hadn’t known physical work stopping at the scratch marks, and his expression sours.
He treats Yeosang’s bike as if it was his own these days.
Maybe it’s because they’re the same at first glance, the only difference between them being the bold tire stickers saying “MARS” on Seonghwa’s model.
But Jongho suspects it’s more than that.
They don’t talk to him about it but he sees it in the tense lines of Seonghwa’s back when Yeosang speaks up, in the lifted corners of Yeosang’s mouth as his eyes sparkle brighter, in Seonghwa’s bold lean into Yeosang’s personal space when he makes a comment that provokes him and in the tremble of Yeosang’s voice right after.
More importantly, he sees it in the way they handle each other’s bikes. Motorcycles are extensions of themselves, their body and soul. And when Seonghwa touches Yeosang’s bike with the sort of intimacy he only had for his own, it feels intrusive to see how his hand gently moves across its body and makes it easy to imagine that’s how he handles Yeosang in his arms.
Though, from a slightly different angle, you could say Jongho explored them from inside out ten times more. Disassembled, from taking out screws and bolts to disconnecting tanks and engines, physically got a sense of them and put them together again. But it doesn’t sound romantic so it doesn’t matter.
And he shouldn’t pry but the summer heat makes it so hard to even think.
Seonghwa and Yeosang are ridiculously attractive and with the current state of Jongho’s personal affairs, it’s harder to not notice that.
He’s been on a lot of dates lately, with all sorts of people and their unique personalities but they all ended in a fail. Awkward encounters and nothing to talk about, opposing views and lack of communication. No spark.
Jongho is the type to settle and slowly develop the relationship, a few months of dating which naturally turn into something a bit more passionate. Nothing casual.
But it’s not working out nowadays and Yeosang’s brown top with low-rise neckline, which shows off his chest through sheer fabric, is sticking to the slick skin and, despite the open clear view at his nipples, Jongho wants to slide his hands under and take it off. Occasionally they go to the gym together and it’s not the first time Jongho has seen the results of Yeosang’s hard work, his strong bulky arms and his refined chest. Though it’s the first time Jongho sees Seonghwa without a jacket and his T-shirt is short enough to expose his lean abs when he lifts his arms. Jongho’s habit is all the same. He wants to see them naked.
Maybe that’s how he ended up in that situation.
***
Once the adrenaline wears off, Jongho puts on the professional act and throws his leg over the seductive wheel and motions for the man to get off his bike.
“I can,” he curtly replies.
He stands by the bike’s side, puts his hands on the grips, taking notice of the bent levers, kicks the stand up and starts pushing to get it outside for a wash.
The man runs ahead and then makes an elegant twirl to start walking backwards, facing Jongho with a cocky tug of his lips.
Once he is outside, he looks up and sees the big green chilli pepper on the roof of their building. It’s a mostly naked metal structure left from the days when the place was a gay club. It’s on the nose because it’s supposed to be: they loved dick and were proud of it.
The guy’s smile widens, revealing his perfect pearly teeth and he turns his gaze to Jongho again. He brings a yellow lollipop to his mouth, Jongho isn’t sure when he removed the wrapper so the possibility is high that he pulled it out of the pockets of his jeans dirty and naked , and sticks his tongue out to lick the sucker with the tip before actually putting it inside his mouth and closing it.
Jongho clears his throat, it’s dry again. They can’t be thinking the same thing.
Jongho turns at the corner and leaves the bike here, fortunately there is some shadow, and he’ll try to make it quick today.
When he comes back with the cleaners, tools, a bucket just in case and a stool, the man is spraying himself with a hose.
Jongho almost drops everything.
“It’s too hot,” the man complains, tone breathy and suggestive.
His light golden brown hair is dripping wet and he isn’t turning off the hose so Jongho clearly sees his white tee clinging to his chest and he wants to pull at his darkening sleeveless denim vest to see more of it. His jeans look indecent, crotch completely soaked and the water streams down his long flared jeans like a nasty promise.
Jongho might need to drench himself with a bucket of water after this.
But he has to act decently. So he gets to work, positioning the stand and pushing the bike on his hip to lift it on top of it.
“Woah,” the guy exclaims, “you’re strong.”
Jongho feels himself blush further from the compliment. It’s not his first time hearing it but the summer temperature is getting under his skin and makes it harder to breathe and he can’t help but notice the flirtatious notes in the man’s high-pitched voice.
Before he begins cleaning, he looks the bike over again. Harley Davidson Seventy Two. He wonders why the man went for it, it’s not the most popular Harley and it wasn’t in production for that long, only five years. With the general treatment of Harley riders, “Yesterday’s technology at tomorrow’s prices" and attitude problems, it’s not the type of old school bike one would buy in this age.
He puts his hands on the small seat, which seems to be the original one, and looks to the side. The tank was remarkable for the hard candy custom with metal flake paint job but this is shiny chrome, one Seonghwa would love, which raises some questions.
“Where did you get this bike?” he asks.
He is suddenly pressed into the motorcycle and his T-shirt and jacket cling against his sweaty back. The feel of a cool wet body against his own makes him shiver.
A moist breath meets his ear as the man wraps his arms around Jongho’s waist and puts his chin over his shoulder. “I stole it,” he whispers, voice saccharine like honey.
Jongho is dizzy. He should have inspected the bike and done the regular procedure, got the man’s name, and signed the repair contract. Something is wrong with him today.
He realises this but pushes back into the man’s hold all the same. It feels good to be touched after so long.
Carefully he asks, “You will still pay for the repairs, right?”
“Of course.” Suddenly, the yellow candy prods at his lips and he obediently opens up without a second thought though he hates sweets. “You can even take me for a ride on it later.”
The sour lollipop numbs his mouth and pulls his eyes shut. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?
But the offer sounds good. He’s never rode on a Harley and no one suggested taking him on a ride on an old type bike for a minute, though he always wondered what it would be like tasting speed on Seonghwa and Yeosang’s models with them. Won’t be possible on this one, it’s not the fast type but if it’s two wheels rubbing on concrete, it works.
And if anyone asks about the stolen bike, he’ll pretend not to know.
The man steps up from him and Jongho shouldn’t be as disappointed as he is for the loss of contact.
He expects him to leave but the man brings a stool for himself and watches Jongho’s work with great interest. He feels small and uncertain under his gaze, as if watched by a predator, but with all the confusing tension and touching gone, he properly gets to cleaning.
Jongho inspects it for damage and sprays it with a cleaner. He starts scrubbing with a brush to get all the grime off and washes it with a light drizzle from a power-washer, letting the man keep the separate hose in case he needs to get soaking wet again. Jongho can’t lie to himself that he wants to see it.
He sprays the wheels with water and then with a tire cleaner and feels himself relax as he thoroughly brushes the gunk on the wheels, forgetting the overwhelming attention on him.
But when he puts a foam cannon on the power-washer and starts soaking the motorcycle in thick white foam, the man speaks again. There is a wide smile on his face.
“I like this.”
They look at the bubbly liquid dripping from the body of the motorcycle and spilling on concrete like milk, and he says, “Looks filthy.”
Jongho has never thought about it in such a way but now he will, at least now with the man around, he won’t stop thinking about it.
The man takes the towel from him and starts rubbing the framework while really leaning into it. Jongho is no fool and he recognises seduction when he sees it, the hungry dark eyes piercing through him are obvious. Though he’s left confused why the man is interested in him in the first place.
He has to keep it professional.
The man keeps wiping and rinses it off himself. Suddenly, he raises the hose up and sprays Jongho with a powerful water shower. He pulls it down and with a pout says, “Not enough.”
And now Jongho is completely wet, his jacket turned into a darker shade of blue, but he can only look at the man with fully opened eyes, not feeling any anger at all.
The man comes up to him and lands his hands on Jongho’s shoulders with a loud plap . They move down his arms, squeezing the excess liquid and feeling up Jongho’s muscles. After he’s done and the water is streaming down Jongho’s fingers, extinguishing the burning sensations, he starts unbuttoning his jacket. Jongho lets him and waits for his next words with baited breath.
“It’s too hot to be wearing this,” he softly explains. When their eyes meet, Jongho can’t help but to drown in them like a lemon piece dips into the sugar water.
One of his hands gets under the shoulder of Jongho’s now-opened jacket and lifts the fabric slightly but instead of taking it off, he lets his fingers rest there.
“I’ll come back in a week, okay?”
Jongho nods.
The sweet and sour lollipop, now only a small yellow ball, is pulled out of his mouth and demonstratively pushed against the soft lips along with the sticky saliva to get licked and swallowed.
“See you right here then.”
The man turns and walks away with a bounce to his steps.
After a moment, Jongho calls after him, tone more assertive than he is, “I need your name!”
The man twirls to look at him and winks. “Hongjoong!”
Jongho certainly won’t forget it.
***
It’s been a week and the sun has not let down its unforgiving burn. The air conditioner will get fixed tomorrow so he is all alone one more day.
Jongho repaired all the damage of Hongjoong’s Seventy Two.
It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary on the inside but at one point he got worried that he got involved in something he shouldn’t have. On the outside he was met with broken mirrors and turn lights, which were to be expected, yet there was one thing. They didn’t snap off, leaving harsh edges like a hard candy.
It was a clean cut metal, hit with something like a laser they use in industrial manufacturing or some guns.
Jongho won’t ask. Not when lemon lollipops, soaked clothes and foamy bikes are everything that has been on his mind lately. Not when there is a promise for something more.
Following the obvious innuendo from Hongjoong, he’s wearing a tee, no jacket today.
It’s such an unexpected change from him that all of the customers that came in this morning gawked at his bare arms which made him furiously blush. And yes, he is covered most of the time, no matter the season.
Within an hour of customers flowing in, he got a message from Wooyoung saying, “i heard you are practically going around NAKED”, “how could you, it’s my and yunho’s thing” and to top it all off, “send pics 😜”.
He left him on read.
It’s a gut feeling that Hongjoong will show up in the afternoon, when the sun makes Jongho’s shoes and brain melt, when he can’t think straight.
Jongho gets ready to meet him and brings the bike outside. He takes Hongjoong’s gloves from his work bench, he washed them, a new helmet in the size of the one Hongjoong threw around the shop and his own. He also takes the Harley Davidson motor oil to gift Hongjoong since it might be a hard find and the possibility that it’s not his motorcycle is high.
When Hongjoong comes from around the corner, Jongho is already sweating with delicious anticipation under the summer sun.
And Hongjoong must notice this because his smile very quickly grows into a wicked one, knowledge that he could do anything and Jongho wouldn’t mind evident on his face.
He’s in the same outfit from a week ago, flared jeans that accentuate his perfect long legs and matching denim sleeveless vest on top of a white tee which looks dry and clean. It’s as if they just met.
“Sorry, did I keep you waiting?” His tone is sweet and apologetic but he wraps his arms around Jongho’s neck with bold comfort and he is reminded of the fact that he is wanted and he didn’t imagine anything.
Jongho feels shy and looks away from Hongjoong’s intense eyes and peachy lips.
“No, it’s okay.”
“ It’s okay?” he repeats. His wet lips drag against Jongho’s ear and his hand sneaks beneath his shirt to rub the sweaty skin. “Forgot about me, I guess?”
Jongho gasps and dares to grab Hongjoong’s hips before pressing him into the new seat of not his Seventy Two, which gets a chuckle.
They are face to face now and Jongho leans into his personal space the same way he picked apart his own. “Of course not.” And an honest confession slips out, “Could only think about you.”
Jongho wonders whether Hongjoong’s teeth taste sweet and his tongue sour and Hongjoong doesn’t keep him guessing for long. “Good.”
He smashes their lips together and his playful tongue immediately prods into Jongho’s mouth. Hongjoong tastes like lemons and liquor, intoxicating Jongho’s dizzy mind further. The weight of Hongjoong’s hand on his neck is comforting yet authoritative and his other hand is squishing his sides, trying to leave marks. Then it leaves the skin under his shirt and Jongho almost whines from loss of contact, eyes tearing up from want.
Thankfully, in no time Hongjoong starts palming Jongho through his pants and a soft moan escapes from him to immediately get caught in the sour sweetness of Hongjoong’s mouth.
Jongho starts slowly rutting into his palm, not sure if he’s allowed more or not, nervous about his own desire but desperate for attention all the same.
“Do you still want to take me for a ride?” Hongjoong asks. His tone is lower, there is more air to it and oh, how did Jongho not catch it before, his brain is a mess.
“If you let me,” he gasps as Hongjoong squeezes his half-hard cock through the pants. “Please, sir.”
“Oh? I told you my name though?” He says this but his hand appreciatively runs across Jongho’s crotch again, he unbuttons his pants and with experienced ease of his fingers he pulls Jongho’s cock out of his pants and underwear as a reward.
“You’re so thick, can’t wait to take you, baby.” Hongjoong smiles at him and he feels himself leaking in his hands.
Jongho doesn’t move to stop him when he starts pumping his cock to fullness, but he has to stutter out, “S-someone can see…”
They are still under the blazing light out in the open, leaning against Hongjoong’s motorcycle.
“Let them see,” he whispers but it sounds loud to Jongho’s burning ears. “You’re gorgeous.”
Jongho isn’t able to hold back a loud whine, earnest for more praise, especially when Hongjoong starts playing with his balls. He doesn’t argue further, the thought of someone finding them turns him on and Hongjoong’s voice works him like magic, sipping into his mind with the hot temperature.
It’s the summer fatigue, he reasons with himself when Hongjoong kisses him, then there is a knock of a hard candy against teeth. It is melting as it passes between their wet mouths, and Jongho desperately sucks on his tongue, dissolving the candy further, trying to prove he doesn’t mind Hongjoong’s bizarre idea despite the awful taste.
Hongjoong takes his hand and leads it behind, into his jeans, Jongho chokes on the sour candy, realising he has no underwear once fingers meet slick skin. The harsh fabric of Hongjoong’s buttoned jeans meets his soaking bright red cock and Hongjoong keeps leading him down. Jongho finds his jeweled butt plug and lets out a loud moan when he rocks into him, flaring his skin with friction.
“You really want to do this,” he says breathlessly.
Hongjoong’s pristine teeth chew on the remnants of the yellow candy, loudly cracking it. His soft lips stop against Jongho’s own, tickling with a warm breath, “Yeah. I want you to fuck me on top of this old scrap of metal.”
Jongho can’t help but let out an airy laugh even when Hongjoong rubs against him, getting impatient himself. He definitely stole this bike. And to think Jongho imagined him a Harley fan.
He unbuttons and shoves down Hongjoong’s jeans. It takes gentle effort and lack of space between them to take out Hongjoong’s shiny butt plug. He’s rewarded with a soft kiss on his temple and Hongjoong jokes, “Keep it, use it to plug your exhaust pipes.”
Jongho nervously laughs. It’s common for Wooyoung and Yunho to joke about plugs simply for sharing the purpose. And even though the pipes need larger plugs, he can’t even correct Hongjoong, this one is huge for what it is. He drops it into the deep pocket of his pants.
“I don’t have anything on me,” he realises.
Hongjoong hums and pushes off Jongho’s body, exposing his hard dick to the sun and Jongho’s mouth salivates despite the drying temperature.
He removes the cap of the 946 ml motor oil bottle Jongho brought as a gift and then slightly trips on the toe cap of his shoes and-
“Oops,” he says, tone more excited than surprised. “This works, right?”
Jongho looks down on his shirt which is now soaked and greasy, his hard nipples poke out and there is skin visible under the yellowed fabric.
Instinctively, he tries to cover up but harsh hands stop him and spread the oil down his biceps instead.
Hongjoong briefly locks their oily hands and then plays with the liquid to cover Jongho’s fingers with it.
“You have big hands. Put them to use.”
It’s not a request or a suggestion, it’s a command, and it’s obvious Jongho has to listen. He desperately wants to.
He lifts Hongjoong on top of the polished repaired motorcycle with ease and his chest rests on top of the gas tank. Hongjoong grabs the sides of the body and rocks against the seat immediately, his leaking dick meeting the leather seat. “Ah, so you want to just watch.”
Hongjoong’s teasing words are faster than him and so are the motions of his body as he fucks into the bike. But no, Jongho doesn't want to just watch.
He mounts the seat right behind Hongjoong, he’s a genius for replacing it to a longer one, and places his hand on Hongjoong’s ass to spread it and get a look. He leaves an oil stain, his fingers are still covered in the synthetic motor lube but he feels like they need more.
So he picks the bottle up and soaks his fingers.
When he spreads the oil along his shaft, he feels his body setting on fire. He’s used to doing things practically, preferably in bed, he’s never thought about something like this and it might change him forever.
Jongho slips his two fingers inside Hongjoong and it’s not a surprise that he’s ready and can take more. He’s been ready while Jongho is still gathering all of his confidence.
Hongjoong loudly exhales and his impatience shows through once again. “I can take you.”
Jongho doesn’t waste any more time to obey his wish and slowly penetrates him, earning a satisfied sigh. It’s been a long time so he lets them adjust. It’s so hot inside, he’ll be left dry and spent by the end of the day, earning himself a sunstroke.
When he starts slowly thrusting into him, Hongjoong speaks up, “You know what I don’t like about this bike?”
Is it time to talk about this?
Jongho replies nonetheless, “There could be many reasons. The small gas tank or the uncomfortable seat…”
Hongjoong moans after a particularly harsh thrust and it sounds so sweet, it hurts Jongho’s gums. “I, ah, I like speed.” He hears a clang of his teeth, accentuating the word. “It’s too slow.” Hongjoong’s grip tightens around the forks. “Though I don’t mind a rough ride.”
Jongho’s breath hitches. He gets the hint this time. He grabs Hongjoong’s hips and slams into him, getting a loud, “Fuck! Yeah, like that. G-good for me.”
As he keeps the harsh and quick thrusting to the sound of Hongjoong’s sweet but loud moans, he feels himself overheating from inside out faster, his sweat covering his oily body like dew. One drop of sweat gathers at the tip of his nose and falls down on Hongjoong’s denim vest, leaving a small stain that dries up quickly. The bike rocks along with them and it really gets to his head. The cruel sunlight reflects from the chrome handles and he tears up. The wet slide of his thick cock into Hongjoong’s willing hole looks insane. And that’s why his next words slip easily.
“I want to see your face.”
Hongjoong laughs. “Want to see, ah, how g-good you make me feel?”
A whine escapes him. “Yes, sir. Please.”
“I like the way you talk.”
With some effort Hongjoong gets off the motorcycle to pull down his tight jeans. Hongjoong throws his right leg around, almost hitting Jongho’s dick with the heel of his white shoe. Jongho shamefully thinks that he would thank him for it.
Hongjoong kisses him and the lemon taste is there again, invading his mouth and making him thirsty despite the shared wetness between them.
Hongjoong exhales into his mouth and there is a smile in his tone. “So polite and so desperate to take me, hm?”
Hongjoong lines up himself on Jongho’s thick cock without letting him speak and lies back down on the fuel tank, throwing his arms behind on the handlebars, near the jeans he discarded.
“I’ve never met someone as beautiful as you,” Jongho exhales, more sweat beading on his forehead and streaming down his face.
He can’t tell whether Hongjoong’s blush furthers, even his ears are neon red from the heat, but he turns his gaze away as if from embarrassment.
It lands on Jongho’s arms and he touches the drops of sweat sitting on top of motor oil in awe.
“I think you’re pretty too.”
Jongho definitely furiously blushes at the compliment and it throws him off balance. He doesn’t get called “pretty” that much. Handsome and cute, sure, strong and reliable are in the row of words used to describe him.
It makes the moment shared between them feel special.
Hongjoong lets him rest, sparing him, and rocks back and forth on his cock with experienced agility. Yet he doesn’t pick up the same pace and the motorcycle feels more stable under them.
It feels sensual and like they’re making love and it makes him feel a bit sentimental. For the hundredth time he reminds himself it’s the summer heat.
There is a need to touch, to make Hongjoong feel good and desire, pure desire. Jongho raises Hongjoong’s white tee and cups his chest in his hands. His well-defined soft pecs that were visible to him through the soaked wet fabric a week ago, that kept driving him mad in the confines of their airless shop.
He gets a light slap on his arm, fabric making a slight pop sound, after a teasing twist of Hongjoong’s nipples and Hongjoong seems to be the type of person to keep it even. He squeezes Jongho’s chest and plays with it as if he could mold something new out of it. He’s already molded Jongho into a new man.
“You listened to me well. Good job.”
The gentle slide into Hongjoong’s hole builds him up to his release, too many feelings to take, too hot to bear. He gently places his hands on Hongjoong’s delicate waist and slightly lifts him up from the tank, taking control of their movement again.
“I’m… I’m going to cum.”
Hongjoong licks his fingers and lifts his shirt up to tease his nipple and softly moans before bringing his hand to his cock to stroke it. “Me too.” He caresses his chest once more and mutters, “You know what to do.”
Jongho takes a strong hold of Hongjoong’s hips and there is a loud snap of skin to skin contact and Hongjoong’s face twists so beautifully in pleasure, so lovely.
When a dew drop of sweat scatters down his perfectly pointy nose and then falls after an intense shake, Jongho can’t help but be mesmerized. It doesn’t take him long to reach his high and he quickly pulls out his heavy cock to shoot ropes of white cum on Hongjoong’s stomach.
It immediately gets mixed with Hongjoong’s own release and he spreads it on his chest, making a complete mess.
Jongho slowly comes back to his senses and hears the clatter of heels on concrete. He panics and doesn’t dare to turn and look back, the shame ignites his tired and spent body once more, making his cock twitch.
Hongjoong smiles loosely and exclaims, “Mingi-ya! What took you so long?”
The clatter stops right beside them and a big shadow lays on top of Hongjoong’s exposed figure.
Jongho fights the stiffness in his neck and turns his head to the side to be met with a slick chest and a neck adorned with a thin silver necklace. At least three buttons of his white shirt are undone for the open view though the strong lines of his full chest are visible through the tight-fit fabric anyway. Jongho has to stop his hands from sneaking inside or unbuttoning it all the way down.
He looks up to see another handsome face.
The guy hands him a wrench and says, surprising him with a deep sexy voice, “You dropped this.”
Jongho nods and accepts it with shaky hands.
Then the guy hands him an envelope labeled with big scratchy “Fix On”. Meanwhile Hongjoong gathers the hot cum caught on his stomach and chest and with his two fingers motions for the guy, Mingi, to come closer.
He immediately leans in and swallows Hongjoong’s dirty fingers, plump lips wrapping beautifully around them and that makes Jongho shift, sensing a familiar tug at his gut.
Seeing them next to each other triggers a forgotten memory and Jongho finally realises why Hongjoong’s mean grin seemed so familiar. He couldn’t instantly recognise them without the signature pink and blue.
He licks his lips and starts, “So you two are…”
But Mingi interrupts him and presses a finger on his own pouting lips, there is more cum spread in the corner of his mouth, “Shhhhh. It’s our secret.”
Jongho wants to argue that there is nothing secretive about being naked under the open sky and blazing sun but finds it pointless.
Hongjoong gets off the bike, complaining about the burn of chrome plastic on his back, and takes his discarded jeans to put them on again. Jongho follows after him, not sure how to behave.
There is a hoverbike on the other side of the road and Hongjoong goes in its direction after winking at Jongho. “See you, outlaw boy.” After taking a few more steps into its direction, he yells, “Be careful! It’s slippery!”
Jongho suddenly feels shy to ask him for something more, for a different conclusion. Mingi mounts the fine and used Seventy Two and his round, fleshy ass looks even more perfect on the seat, tight jeans and leather. His big hands caress the gas tank with the sort of admiration Jongho feels guilty to look at. He can guess what he is thinking about.
Mingi puts light brown suede gloves on, not suitable for this weather, but matching the ones Hongjoong has. That reminds Jongho to pull the gloves out of his back pockets and give them to him. Mingi’s eyes widen but he accepts them and shoves them down his jeans. He looks down on Jongho’s exposed crotch and licks his pretty pink lips.
“Don’t leave me out on fun next time.”
Next time. Looking at Mingi’s face, he feels playful so he pulls at his flushed cheek, knowing it won’t get a negative reaction. “Sure.”
Mingi chuckles and starts the engine. He rides out with a loud roar, following Hongjoong’s sleek and barely audible hoverbike.
Jongho clears his throat and rubs his eyes. He gets himself together, pulling his underwear and pants back up despite the gross yet somehow pleasant, thrilling feeling, he zips and buttons them up. His hands are still wet so he wipes them on his pants. He rips the envelope. There is a big stack of money inside.
At least their business didn’t suffer from him having a fun ride on a Harley Davidson.