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The click of the door closing felt so final, sticking out in the muted silence of the hotel room. When he swallowed, it seemed like the sound of it echoed through the room.
“Did you do as I told you?”
Chan nodded. “Yes, sir.” He automatically straightened himself up, adjusting his posture.
As if he didn’t know. As if Hongjoong hadn’t felt it earlier, when he so easily put his arm around Chan’s waist, before subtly dropping it. Letting it slide off Chan’s ass. Smiling politely as he told Chan his room number, as casually as if they were just congratulating each other on the night’s performances. In front of everyone.
There was too much ruckus around for anyone to hear what went between them, but it had still made Chan sweat and glance around. All the artists of the night had gathered on the stage and were making their way off, everyone greeting each other and chatting happily. Hongjoong led Chan as they walked following the crowd, his hand hot where it sat low on Chan’s waist, with just enough plausible deniability to say it wasn’t on Chan’s ass.
“You did very well tonight,” he’d said. Again, his hand brushed against Chan’s ass, so blatant that Chan couldn’t believe the audacity of him.
“Thanks,” Chan said automatically, stomach twisting. “So did you. Congratulations on the awards.”
“Thank you,” Hongjoong said with a smile that might look genial to an outsider, but to Chan held a dark promise. “You’ve been working very hard lately.”
“Yes si—” Chan tripped over his automatic response. He glanced around again. Someone he didn’t recognise smiled excitedly at him and he nodded back, trying to school his face into an acceptable expression. “Yeah. We have.”
“It’s been a while since last time.”
“Yes.” It was too eager, too fast, too much. He licked his lips. “You’ve been busy too.”
Hongjoong hummed a little, then laughed lightly. He put his hand back around Chan’s waist as he guided him through the meandering crowd of artists that were all walking off the stage and down the ramp to the backstage area.
It was…
Nice.
Chan was used to sometimes doing this for his own members. He liked being able to watch out for them and take care of them, even if they all needed it less now as time had gone on.
That wasn’t entirely true, they could still be chaotic enough to turn his hair grey, and in truth it was a relief to him that they still needed him in some ways.
Having someone else do it for him was a feeling he wasn’t used to, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. It made him feel… Precious wasn’t the right word, but, but it came close. The only other word he could think of was valued, which was a discussion he didn’t even want to have with his therapist, let alone in his own mind.
“Will you come?”
Chan almost slipped on some confetti on the ground as he was startled from his thoughts. Hongjoong had used both hands to try and catch him, and he was looking at Chan with concern and appraisal. Like he thought maybe Chan was… unwell. Off-balance, somehow, and not just in the sense of tripping over his own feet. It should’ve been embarrassing, the eagerness with which he said “Yeah,” his voice only slightly choked.
“Don’t be late,” had been the last murmur into his ear before they separated backstage, and Chan had to put his leader face back on as he joined his members in their dressing rooms for the start of their celebrations. He wondered what people thought, when they had seen him and Hongjoong talking. It hadn’t been obvious, had it? They had probably just thought they were swapping stories or general chit-chat, comparing experiences and cheering each other on, like Chan did with any other idol he met. People probably didn’t look at them twice when they were talking, except because of who they were. Nobody could tell that two hours later, Chan would be knocking on the door of Hongjoong’s hotel room.
They couldn’t know that he would be dropping to his knees behind closed doors as soon as the words ‘Good boy,’ fell from Hongjoong’s lips, a syrupy warmth in the praise that filled Chan’s stomach. They couldn’t know how Chan’s eyes dropped closed as Hongjoong fingers buried in his hair, petting softly through it before grabbing hold, making Chan hiss in relief.
It felt like he’d been waiting for this all night. Longer, even. It was like he’d had the date circled in the calendar in his mind for months, anticipation growing as it got closer, even seeping into him as they practiced for the performance and picked out their outfits.
After last time, Chan had tried to pretend it hadn’t happened. He tried to forget about it, never allowing himself to think about it, distracting himself with work and responsibilities and the gym until it felt like a wound that was festering inside him that he just couldn’t look directly at.
Like Hongjoong had opened something up inside him that Chan couldn’t close again. Something that demanded to be heard. Or maybe more like a monster that demanded to be fed.
Because he noticed it now. He noticed the hunger inside him. The need. The way he was looking for someone to take control, even as a different part of him desperately clawed to keep it.
It had just felt so good to let go, just for that one evening.
The second time they had… hooked up… Hongjoong had cornered Chan in a bathroom, fingering Chan until his knees were weak before Chan had swallowed his cock down as far as he could, practically begging for more, only just managing to hide his own erection back in his trousers before someone started knocking on the door.
And still, he had promised himself he wouldn’t do it again. He’d tried to convince himself that he still liked women with fumbling encounters that just ended up making him feel more humiliated than ever. He’d even furtively tried fucking a guy. It had almost been a relief when that hadn’t managed to scratch the itch either. Turns out fucking a guy wasn’t that different from fucking a girl, and neither was anything like the feeling of a cock pressing deep inside him, merciless and unyielding until he was gasping for breath and desperate for more.
He promised himself he wouldn’t do it again, and when Hongjoong had texted him a link, along with the words ‘be ready,’ Chan had obeyed without any hesitation, adding to his cart and checking out without question.
It was the only communication they’d had in all that time.
“Do you have any requests for tonight?” Hongjoong tightened his grip in Chan’s hair when Chan didn’t reply straight away.
“…What?” Chan’s brain was already moving slower, settling into a warm headspace he hadn’t found since their last time, welcoming like sinking into a warm bath after a long day.
Requests?
Was Hongjoong not going to just… Do what he wanted, again?
“I see… Maybe next time, hm?” Hongjoong let go of Chan’s hair and walked over to an armchair, sitting down. Chan stayed where he was, ready for whatever Hongjoong asked of him next. “Come here, puppy.”
Chan didn’t need to be told twice, and neither did he need to be told to stay on his knees, crawling across the floor towards Hongjoong.
He was too eager, he knew he was being too eager. He had promised himself he wouldn’t do this again, and how easily he had broken that promise. How wilfully he gave himself over. How desperately he wanted.
And Hongjoong noticed.
He smirked at Chan once he was settled at Hongjoong’s feet. Knowing. Chan felt himself blushing, and as he turned his head away, Hongjoong caught him by the chin, forcing him to stay facing him.
“Cute,” was all he said. Then he let go of Chan’s face, settling back in the chair and holding his hand out towards Chan, palm down. Chan wasn’t sure what he was meant to do with the hand held out in front of him, and the most obvious option was to lean his head forward and press his lips to the back of Hongjoong’s hand.
Hongjoong laughed, a soft little giggle that held a touch of cruelty. Like the laugh of a little emperor, taunting and clear as the tinkle of a bell. Chan blushed even more, looking up at Hongjoong in confusion.
“You’re such a polite little puppy,” Hongjoong said. Then he tilted his head towards the table to the side of the armchair. On it was a small box. Chan waited for Hongjoong to nod at him before reaching for the box and opening it. In it was a small nail care travel kit. Chan looked up at Hongjoong again. “Go on,” Hongjoong said. “Or do you need further instructions?”
He didn’t say it meanly. That is, not any meaner than he already was. If Chan asked, Hongjoong would explain, there was no catch.
But Chan thought he understood. He took Hongjoong’s hand with one of his own, putting the nail kit on the floor. Hongjoong’s hand was small and fine, with delicate fingers and well-groomed nails. Chan squirmed as he remembered how they’d felt inside him, which in turn reminded him of the task Hongjoong had set him before tonight, jostling inside him as he knelt.
‘be ready’
And Chan was.
After examining Hongjoong’s nails, Chan picked the nail clippers out of the kit and brought them to Hongjoong’s fingertips. Chan had never done this before for someone else, and at first it felt a little awkward to try and get the angle right, worrying that he’d go too deep or that he’d hurt Hongjoong, but once he had done the first few, he got more confident. He let himself get lost in the task, finishing Hongjoong’s left hand before starting on the right. After he finished with the clippers, he used one of the little nail files to soften the edges and make sure that everything was neat and even. As he finished, he noticed that there was also a bottle of hand lotion on the table, and he reached for it, pouring some into his palm and then massaging it into Hongjoong’s hands, one after the other.
Chan packed away the nail kit, placing it back on the table before settling back in his kneel. He felt calmer now. He could feel his own heartbeat, a slow rhythmic thud instead of the anxious rabbiting from earlier. He dared a glance up at Hongjoong, who was smiling down at Chan. “Good boy, thank you, puppy.” He patted Chan’s head again.
Chan almost flinched from it, at first. It was always hard for him to accept praise, trying to deflect it onto his members or the larger team around them, instead of taking it in on himself. He never felt like he deserved it. Like earlier tonight.
But this one… This was just a small task he had performed and then received the praise for.
He had worked for it. “Thank you, sir.” It was simple.
Hongjoong got to his feet, putting away the nail care kit and lotion before turning back to Chan. He had already changed out of his stage outfit from earlier into a soft pair of wide-legged trousers and a cotton shirt. Chan had just thrown on a hoodie over his own outfit after he’d managed to make his excuses to leave the celebrations. Hongjoong looked so deceptively soft like this, in his loose clothing with his small smile and delicate hands. Chan would’ve never expected what lay beneath the glint in his eye or the hook of his smile if he didn’t know firsthand. If his eyes hadn’t been opened.
“Here,” Hongjoong ordered, and Chan turned and shuffled over a few paces, so he was kneeling in front of Hongjoong again. “Good. Up.” He held Chan’s chin with two fingers, guiding him back to his feet. He let his hand drop to Chan’s chest, before sliding it up to Chan’s shoulder. He slowly circled Chan, feeling the muscles of Chan’s back and shoulders as he walked. “You’ve been working out quite a lot I see.”
Chan automatically flexed the muscles as Hongjoong’s hand ran over them. He was used to doing it during photoshoots or when he was watching himself in the mirror, monitoring his progress, looking over his videos before he sent them to the fans and making sure the right muscles popped. It happened almost without him thinking, now. “Yeah.”
“Running from something?” Hongjoong stopped behind Chan, his hand trailing down Chan’s back to the swell of his ass.
“N—No, it’s just a hobby, I—”
His hand slid down further until it tapped the end of the plug stuffed inside Chan’s ass through Chan’s trousers. Chan choked on his words as the sensation of it hit him.
“Good puppy,” Hongjoong mused, pushing a little harder on the end until Chan groaned, all his muscles going weak against the feeling. “Tell me, did you like it?”
Chan blinked, the pressure in his ass finally abating. “What?” he asked, feeling a little dazed.
“Did you get excited when you bought it? Did you wait eagerly for it to arrive, or were you anxious about getting caught?”
“I—”
“Did you get hard when you put it in tonight? Did you practice with it before? Did it scare you? Tell me.” Hongjoong walked back in front of Chan, then sat down on the bed, leaning back on his hands. He looked up at Chan as he crossed his legs. It felt wrong to be towering over Hongjoong like that, and Chan’s instincts were screaming at him to get on his knees.
“I…” He tried to think, tried to focus. “I was anxious to order it, but I liked it.” He swallowed, looking down at the ground where his socks sank into the plush carpet. “I was excited to try it. For you,” he added in a hushed voice. “When it arrived, I was scared because it seemed so big. But then I remembered—” He glanced up at Hongjoong for a moment before looking back down again. “—your cock inside me and how good it felt. And… I wanted to be good for you.” He thought of that first night, the mess he’d made of his bed using the lube that had come with the obsidian plug, trying not to make a sound as he pushed the cold glass inside himself, stretching his rim until he thought he couldn’t take it anymore before it popped inside.
“Go on,” Hongjoong said. The encouragement heartened Chan to continue.
“I tried it the night it came. It felt—felt good but I was worried—”
“Worried?”
“About wearing it the whole night. For the awards and the performance and—and everything. So I…”
Hongjoong leaned further back on the bed, looking up at Chan with a grin. “Yes?”
“I wore it to practice, a few times, just to see if I could—could perform while I had it in.” He’d gotten good at putting it in, knowing what angle to use and how to relax his rim to make it easier. He’d gotten so used to it that it almost felt strange to go to practice without it. “And I had to be sure it couldn’t be seen through the outfit.” It had been constantly on his mind, the worry that people could see, that they could somehow tell what he had done. What he was preparing to do. He had to force himself to not constantly check in every reflective surface he passed by, or even using his hands to feel it.
It hadn’t been a distraction while performing, really, not after he’d gotten used to it. It had taken a while but once he’d been through a few practices with it, it felt more like a reminder. Even when he had his leader face on, the idol persona that he barely knew how to take off anymore, it had been a constant presence, a solid and interminable weight settled securely inside him, bringing the low heat in his stomach to a simmer. A low thrum of arousal that sang through his body. He almost thought it made his movements a little looser, chasing that heat.
“But did it make you hard?” Hongjoong asked. “Did it make you ache? Did it make you think of me?”
“Were you trying to get me to mess up my performance or something?” Chan blurted out, before realising, and snapping his mouth shut.
“No,” Hongjoong said, grin never fading from his lips. “I know you’re more professional than that. I was trying to get you out of your head for a little bit again. Now answer what I asked.”
“I…” Chan’s lips felt glued together. “Yes,” finally slipped out in a soft hiss of air. “Yes, I had to jerk off every time I got back to my room. I tried not to but—” He bit his lip, fighting the shame bubbling beneath his skin. He drew in a deep breath. “But I thought about you, your fingers, your c-cock, the way you filled me up. The things you—” He cut himself off again, before he could confess to how he had jerked himself almost raw every day since then.
“Good puppy. Get on the bed, all fours.” Hongjoong stood up and stepped to the side, watching as Chan did as he was told.
Chan climbed awkwardly onto the bed, crawling into the centre and stopping, turning his head to look back at Hongjoong for confirmation.
“Good,” Hongjoong said. “Stay there.” Then he walked away, and Chan turned his head back, breath quickening in anticipation. It wasn’t the kind of anticipation that brought anxiety or worry, though. It was closer to excitement. Awaiting what Hongjoong would do next. What he would do with Chan. How he would use him, tease him, undress him from all his preconceptions once again.
God, Chan really wanted this more than he had ever been willing to admit to himself. He should’ve known to admit that from the time he had started stuffing himself full with a plug, just because Hongjoong asked him to.
“Let’s see how prepared you are for me, baby,” Hongjoong said, suddenly appearing beside him. Chan had gotten too lost in his own thoughts again, feeling relaxed and fuzzy, even though they had barely done anything yet. He felt fingers at his waistband, and then his trousers were being pulled down roughly to just below the swell of his ass.
Catching briefly on the base of the plug in his ass, making him flinch and let out a moan.
“Oh, look at you,” Hongjoong said in a low voice. His hand came to the plug, tugging lightly on the base, just enough to tease. Chan dropped his head down and groaned. His cock was still trapped under the waistband, but it was fighting valiantly to get hard. “You’ve been such a good puppy for me.”
Chan let out a confused moan that somehow Hongjoong was able to correctly interpret as a question.
“Yes, you have.” He pulled on the plug until Chan’s rim started to stretch around where it grew thicker and thicker, stopping right before the apex. He kept it there for a moment, keeping Chan guessing on whether he would push it back in or pull it out and leave him empty and open for Hongjoong. He didn’t know what he was hoping for, but as Hongjoong pushed it back in, Chan let out a small whine. Hongjoong pressed it in as deep as he could until the circular base of it was flush against Chan’s ass, and then kept pressing. The plug couldn’t physically go any deeper, but the added pressure teasing so close to Chan’s prostate was almost like torture. Hongjoong’s other hand came up to Chan’s back, pushing his shirt up to reveal the skin there. Chan gasped as Hongjoong scratched his nails down Chan’s back, arching up into the touch and pushing his ass out further as he did. “Do you know why I made you cut my nails?” Hongjoong whispered, leaning over Chan. Then he started pulling on the plug again.
“N-no,” Chan whimpered. Again, Hongjoong pulled the plug out to where it was the largest, making Chan’s rim stretch around it in a burn that felt so good.
As Hongjoong pushed it back inside, he leaned back down over Chan. He drew in a breath as if to speak, but before he could, there was a knock on the door.
“Hongjoongie-Hyung,” a deep but petulant voice called from the other side of the hotel room door.
Chan could feel his heart beating so hard in his chest that he thought he would choke on it, cold sweat breaking out all over his body. He made to get up, one hand pulling at his trousers, but Hongjoong pushed him back down with one hand on his back. He sighed. “Don’t move. I’ll take care of it.”
Chan’s hands bunched into fists gripping the blanket of the bed, but he did as he was told, clinging to Hongjoong’s words. Hongjoong would take care of it. Nobody was going to find him here, ass exposed as he begged for cock, stuffed full with a plug in his ass. Hongjoong would take care of it.
Hongjoong’s footsteps were soft on the floor, and Chan struggled to hear them over the beating of his own heart thudding in his ears and the blood roaring in his veins. His heart seized when he heard the door opening. Hongjoong would take care of it. He understood the precariousness of their situation just as well as Chan did.
“Hyung,” came the same raspy voice as earlier, a whine evident in it. “Please, I can’t take it anymore, when are you going to—?”
“Not so loud,” Hongjoong said, and there was some shuffling before Chan heard the door close.
“Hyung…” Then, a pause. Had whoever it was seen Chan or was he shielded from view by the angle of the bed from the door still?
There was a sharp intake of breath, before Hongjoong’s voice spoke again. “You think that being a brat will get you whatever you want. I told you to wait, I’ll get to you when you’ve learnt to be patient.”
There was a petulant whine, half-muffled by something.
“Be good and go back to your room. I’ll be there later, baby. Unless you want to stay and watch? Sit there patiently like a good boy?” There was a pause. “No? Because you’re not a good boy?” Another pause. “Go to your room and prove how good you can be for me baby. Do you remember the rules? Good boy.”
There was some more shuffling, and then the door opened and closed again. Chan’s mind raced almost as hard as his heart. He hadn’t assumed that he and Hongjoong were exclusive, not at all. Obviously not. And it was obvious that Hongjoong had experience. A lot more experience than Chan did. He just hadn’t expected to be confronted with it so directly, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
“Sorry about that,” Hongjoong said from behind Chan, startling him. “It’s a full-time job with that lot, I’m sure you understand.” Chan nodded, even though he wasn’t sure Hongjoong could even see it from behind him, and even though he wasn’t sure he understood at all. He couldn’t imagine doing… This with any of his boys. How would he look them in the face afterwards? If they saw him like this, what would they think?
And yet, sometimes… Sometimes he wondered. Sometimes he felt like an outsider in his own group, even though he was supposed to be their leader. Leading could be lonely, yes, but it went beyond that. It wasn’t like he was a dictator; he just took responsibility for things, and it felt like that made him a little distant from the rest of them. It seemed like it was so much easier for all of them to be close. Their relationships were so easy and intimate, in a way that he could never manage. Worse than the jealousy was the feeling that it was his own fault. He had set those boundaries himself, and he wasn’t sure if it was to protect them or to protect himself. Or if it was just because he was a coward.
“Where were we again?” Hongjoong’s hand landed on Chan’s lower back, and Chan could feel it as Hongjoong got on the bed behind him. “Oh yes, I was asking if you knew why I had you trim my nails.” Hongjoong’s other hand grabbed hold of the base of the plug again, twisting it as he rocked it gently back and forth, making Chan moan as fire ignited in his belly again. His heart had calmed down from earlier, but it took his brain a few moments to switch from panic back to arousal. He almost jumped when he felt a slick finger gently rubbing along his rim where it was stretched around the width of the plug. Then it pushed in at the same time as the plug was pushed in, sinking into Chan next to it.
“Oh.” Chan gasped at the stretch.
“You seemed to enjoy my fingers so much last time,” Hongjoong said, and before Chan could catch his breath, Hongjoong was pressing another finger inside him, his other hand fucking Chan with the plug shallowly. Chan’s dick had started softening when they had been interrupted earlier, but at almost record speed he was back to full hardness, even restrained as it was by his trousers still. He arched his back and rocked his hips against Hongjoong, wanting more. Hongjoong huffed a breath, and Chan realised he was laughing. “Eager little puppy, aren’t you?”
“Ah—I—Please,” Chan said. He wanted Hongjoong to fuck him again already, hard and rough, like a punishment.
“It’s cute, I think next time we’ll get you one with a tail so you can wag it like a good dog.”
Chan almost choked on his own spit at the thought, at the image of himself on all fours with a tail, fully embodying the pet name Hongjoong used for him. “Please,” he said again.
“Everyone is so impatient tonight,” Hongjoong mused, curling his fingers and pressing down until Chan’s thighs almost gave out, pleasure overwhelming him.
“Please, please…”
“What is it, puppy? What do you want?”
“Just—Just fuck me, please,” Chan said, trying to breathe through the onslaught of stimulation from Hongjoong’s fingers.
Hongjoong hummed. “I think…” He paused, pulling his fingers back so Chan was squeezing down on the unyielding hardness of the plug alone. “I think you are in a hurry to get the night over with. Why is that?”
“That’s—That’s not what—” Chan swallowed thickly.
“Are you still embarrassed about your own desires?”
“I—”
“So you understand that you want this, that you need it, but you haven’t accepted it, have you?” Hongjoong said. “You’re ashamed of it.”
“Of course I am!” Chan said, more forcefully than he intended. “It’s not normal, is it? It’s not right! I shouldn’t be like this; I should just be—Normal.” He was breathing hard, and he felt like he’d just unleashed something that had been an unspoken tangle of thoughts bouncing around his brain for months now.
Hongjoong pulled on the plug in Chan’s ass until it popped out.
“How does that feel?”
Chan gasped. His hole felt hollow and empty, clenching down on nothing after being so used to the solid weight inside him all night. He felt exposed, vulnerable and open.
“I—” He could feel his rim fluttering uselessly like it was hungry for something to fill him up. “Empty,” he answered finally.
“And?”
“It’s—Like something’s missing. Like I need—” He cut himself off, the words on the tip of his tongue and yet oceans away.
“You need someone to take care of you,” Hongjoong said. “But you’re ashamed of it.” Chan didn’t reply. Hongjoong waited another moment, like he was thinking. Or maybe he was just waiting for Chan to answer. “You want to feel like you’ve earned it,” Hongjoong finished. “Is that right?”
“I dunno,” Chan said, guarded. He wanted to just leave and go back to his own room to sulk. This wasn’t fun. This wasn’t what he had come here for. He started to push himself up again, pulling his trousers up and ignoring the way his ass protested the new emptiness inside him.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Hongjoong said when Chan had gotten to his knees, half turning around so he was facing Hongjoong on the bed.
Not that Chan could look him in the eyes for more than half a second, of course. He didn’t like how Hongjoong’s words made him feel. How comforting they were. How much he found himself seeking that comfort, wanting to give in to it. Lean into it, resting against it, feeling the warmth and safety of it. And he especially didn’t like how Hongjoong just seemed to know, always, everything, everything. Chan was laid bare before him without even doing anything. Surely, he wasn’t this obvious to everyone else?
“If you want to earn it, you can earn it.”
Chan paused, and he hated himself for it. He hated himself for the little spark of hope he felt. It was humiliating to feel that way. To want Hongjoong to—to take care of him. Like he was a child seeking comfort from a parent. That was his role. It always had been.
“Lie down for me, good boy,” Hongjoong said, gently guiding Chan to lie down on the soft bed. “Take your hoodie off.” Chan hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering up to meet Hongjoong’s gaze before he pulled at the thick fabric, pulling it over his head to bare his torso and putting it to the side. “Good puppy.” Chan watched as Hongjoong made his way closer until he swung one leg over Chan’s torso and sat back on Chan’s chest, not shielding Chan from any of his weight, and pinning Chan’s arms down to the bed with his knees.
It felt good. Grounding.
And all Chan could do was look up at Hongjoong, waiting for what he would do next. There was a soft smile on Hongjoong’s cherubic face, his brown curls falling beautifully down to frame his face. Chan traced the bow of his lips with his eyes, the way the corners tipped up a little as Hongjoong noticed him staring. Hongjoong’s lips looked soft and full, and Chan wanted to feel them again, pressed against his own. He’d felt so desperate for it, last time when he’d pulled Hongjoong into a kiss as he came.
Hongjoong sat back and lifted his hand to run his fingers through his hair, pushing it back before letting his hand trail down his torso slowly. Chan’s eyes followed every movement as Hongjoong’s hand went lower at a teasing pace. He got to the front of his trousers and cupped himself through the fabric, showing off his impressive size at half-hardness. Chan swallowed, remembering what it had been like to have it in his mouth, stretching him open and overwhelming his senses with Hongjoong’s taste and smell and girth.
As if he knew, Hongjoong asked, “Do you want it?” stroking himself slowly through the fabric as he got harder. Chan wanted to push himself up so he could get his mouth on it, suckling at him through the fabric, chasing the taste of Hongjoong’s cock.
“Yes,” Chan said naturally. “Yes. Please.” There was added pressure on his arms as Hongjoong adjusted his position, moving forward slightly and raising himself up so he could push his loose trousers down to free his cock.
“You want it?” Hongjoong asked again as he pulled his cock free. He hadn’t been wearing any underwear, and Chan groaned at the thought of it. He’d done that because he knew Chan was coming. For him.
“Yes, I want it,” Chan said, starting to feel desperate. His mouth watered as he watched Hongjoong stroking his cock, so close to Chan’s mouth and yet so far, pinned down as he was.
“Tell me.”
Chan bristled with frustration for a moment. Hadn’t he been clear? Why did Hongjoong insist on Chan denigrating himself? For what?
The tip of Hongjoong’s cock brushed against Chan’s lower lip, smearing precome over it before Hongjoong pulled back again. He used his free hand to rake through Chan’s hair before tugging on it roughly. “Aren’t you going to be a good puppy for me?” His voice carried a hint of danger, his eyes sharp even as his face was as seraphic as ever. His knees dug in even harder on top of Chan’s arms, until it started hurting, pressing into his bones.
Nervously, Chan’s tongue came out to wet his lips, and he caught the taste of Hongjoong left there. He looked up at Hongjoong where he loomed above him. “Please, I want to suck your cock, sir.” Hongjoong’s expression softened again, and the grip in Chan’s hair loosened.
“See, was that so hard? It’s okay to ask for what you want, sweetheart.” He leaned down closer, and god, Chan wanted to kiss him.
That was stupid.
But he did, eyes stuck on them, watching the words form on Hongjoong’s lips.
“I might even give it to you.”
Chan shuddered, and Hongjoong sat back down on Chan’s chest, close enough now that he could aim his cock at Chan’s mouth.
“Open. A little more – that’s it.”
There was nothing Chan could do but lie there and take whatever Hongjoong gave him. There was peace in that, too.
Hongjoong ran the tip of his cock along Chan’s lips, painting them with his precome. When Chan tried to open his mouth further to let him inside, Hongjoong pulled on his hair again harshly. “Not yet,” he scolded. “Bad puppy.”
Chan whimpered, going back to his former position, mouth watering as he waited for Hongjoong to push his cock inside. He didn’t even dare lick his lips to catch more of his taste. Excitement thrummed through him and his cock throbbed from arousal.
Hongjoong was playing with him like a cat with a mouse, and Chan was loving it.
“I’m going to fuck your face now,” Hongjoong said. “You can take it.”
Like it wasn’t even a question.
Chan nodded. He could.
He hadn’t had a cock in his mouth since the last time Hongjoong had fed him every inch of his before, but Chan felt like he’d never done anything else when Hongjoong pushed the tip of his cock into Chan’s mouth. Chan immediately wrapped his lips around it, suckling on it and looking up at Hongjoong to gauge his reaction.
“Fuck, baby, you really do have the perfect lips to suck cock,” Hongjoong said, looking down at Chan with something that felt dangerously close to reverence. It couldn’t be reverence. Chan pushed the thought away, focusing on relaxing his throat as Hongjoong pushed deeper into his mouth. His thrusts started out slow and shallow, building rhythm as Chan got used to the sensation.
The first time his thrust went deep enough into Chan’s mouth for him to feel it in his throat, Chan choked for a moment, and Hongjoong pulled back.
“Have you forgotten everything I taught you last time?” Hongjoong asked. “Just relax and let me use your mouth like a good puppy.” He didn’t wait for a response, and as soon as Chan had caught his breath again, he pushed back inside, leaning over Chan with one hand still in his hair and the other resting his weight against the headboard of the bed. Chan was completely pinned to the bed in a way that felt almost overwhelming, as Hongjoong kneeled over him, eclipsing everything in his view. “That’s it, just relax baby.”
Chan’s eyes fluttered closed as a few tears slipped down his cheek, and he felt the words sink into his mind. He stopped trying to think, to control the pace or the depth or any of those things that he had no control over. Instead of thinking, he noticed. He noticed the rhythm Hongjoong built up to again, matching his deeper thrusts to Chan’s exhales and giving him moments in between where he could catch his breath. He noticed the taste of Hongjoong’s cock, the velvety smooth texture of him, the way Hongjoong varied the angle of his thrusts to brush against the roof of Chan’s mouth or the inside of his cheek, sending sparks of electricity through his body. His eyes had gone unfocused and his whole body was slack as he let Hongjoong use him.
There was a sharp tug on his hair, and Chan lifted his gaze up to meet Hongjoong’s with some difficulty. His eyes felt heavy and uncoordinated. He just wanted to sink into the warm fuzzy sensation that was overtaking his mind. He could feel the spit dripping from the corners of his mouth and running down his chin.
“You’re doing so well baby, eyes on me,” Hongjoong said. “Perfect cocksleeve for me. Now hold it, eyes on me.” He thrust in so deep that Chan couldn’t breathe, feeling Hongjoong’s balls against his chin as he bottomed out. He didn’t look away, though. “That’s it,” Hongjoong encouraged him as Chan’s throat struggled around the intrusion. “Good boy,” Hongjoong said as he finally pulled back and Chan sucked in air again.
He felt light-headed, and not just from the brief lack of oxygen. The way his heart was racing was only spreading the euphoric pleasure through his body faster, making him feel almost like he was floating. “Please…”
“Please what, sweet boy?”
“More,” Chan said, blinking the tears away and lifting his head to try to chase Hongjoong’s cock and take it back into his mouth. “Use me. I want—Use me.”
“Fuck,” Hongjoong breathed, looking down at Chan for a long moment while Chan waited with bated breath. “Yeah, yeah okay.” He used one hand to aim his cock back to Chan’s mouth and Chan opened his lips greedily. “Fuck you’re such a – ah – such a perfect little cockslut for me.” Chan swallowed him down eagerly, wishing his arms were free so he could encourage Hongjoong to fuck his mouth faster with his hands on Hongjoong’s ass.
All he could do was moan appreciatively as Hongjoong used him. Wishing he would go harder, deeper, faster. Chan could take it. He desperately wanted to be useful.
Hongjoong leaned back, his hips rolling smoothly as he fucked Chan’s mouth, reaching for Chan’s cock and rubbing it through Chan’s trousers. He regretted pulling them up now, wishing he could feel Hongjoong’s touch on bare skin. His hips rutted up against Hongjoong’s hand automatically, seeking more friction against his aching cock. As he moaned, Hongjoong gave a particularly deep thrust, so far down Chan’s throat that he couldn’t breathe. He had already been feeling light-headed and being unable to breathe just added to the floating sensation taking over him, his whole body tingling.
“Fuck yeah, just like that,” Hongjoong breathed. “You fucking love it.” He was looking down at Chan with cherubic glee that Chan could only watch for a moment as his eyes started watering again. He felt cocooned by Hongjoong, having him holding him down, all around him, deep inside him. Hidden from the world.
When Hongjoong pulled back, Chan’s lungs were screaming for oxygen, but his mind was still craving something else.
He was getting addicted to the feeling he got when Hongjoong took what he wanted from him, used him as he liked until Chan had served his purpose. “You’re so hard,” Hongjoong said as Chan’s hips rutted against his hand. “You’re such a desperate little cockslut. I bet you could come just from humping my hand while my cock is down your hungry throat. As Chan caught his breath, Hongjoong slid his hand beneath the waistband of his trousers and wrapped it around Chan’s cock, at the same time as he slid his own back inside Chan’s waiting mouth.
Chan came almost instantly with a choked groan, the haze of lust and shame and need swirling within him as his cock pulsed. He rutted his hips up against Hongjoong’s hand, but Hongjoong didn’t even jerk him through it, leaving Chan to shudder through an unsatisfying orgasm.
“Pathetic.” Hongjoong was fucking into Chan’s mouth shallowly, almost lazily, and looking down at him with a gaze that pinned Chan in place almost more thoroughly than the position already did.
It was too intimate, staring into Hongjoong’s eyes as he came, mouth too full to beg like he wanted to, barely able to let out little whimpers around Hongjoong’s cock. Hongjoong leaned forward, thrusting a little deeper into Chan’s mouth, patting Chan’s cheek patronisingly. Chan could only moan as Hongjoong built his tempo up again, alternating between slower, deeper thrusts, and faster more shallow ones where Chan was able to catch his breath. His hands rested against the wall as he tilted forward even more, his thrusts going deeper than ever, his balls slapping against Chan’s chin when he bottomed out.
Chan gasped when Hongjoong pulled back out, and then whined pathetically when he didn’t push back in again. Instead Hongjoong got off Chan, getting to his feet and pulling his trousers back up, his cock visibly tenting the loose material obscenely.
“Please,” Chan said, lying on the bed in the position Hongjoong had left him, before he realised that he wasn’t being physically restrained anymore, so he sat up, crawling after Hongjoong to the edge of the bed. “Please,” he repeated. “You didn’t finish. Wasn’t I good enough?” He looked pleadingly up at the other man, reaching one hand out towards Hongjoong.
Hongjoong stilled, looking at him. “Oh, puppy.” He patted Chan’s cheek and a small smile tugged at his lips. The way it made his features look even more elven and sharp tugged at something in the pit of Chan’s stomach. Some kind of thrill at the danger that was promised there. “Don’t worry, we’re not done yet. Lie back down for me. That’s it. Now I want to see you touch yourself.”
That made Chan hesitate for a brief moment before he quickly sat up so he could kick his trousers away, lying back down. He automatically flexed the muscles of his chest as he laid himself out, hoping Hongjoong was watching. Hoping it would entice him back. Hongjoong had walked over to one of the seats in the corner of the room and dragged it closer to the bed, stopping so he had a perfect view of Chan when he sat down, crossing one leg over the other.
“Go on.”
Again, Chan hesitated for a moment, before letting his hand wander down to his cock. He wasn’t hard again, not yet, but he was determined to get there, if that was what Hongjoong wanted from him. He hissed from how sensitive his cock felt, but the more he stroked himself the easier it got. His come from earlier was getting tacky where it cooled on his stomach and his cock. It made him feel dirty. Hongjoong’s heavy gaze on him doubly so, as his eyes seemed to drink in every twitch of Chan’s hips, every sigh or moan that fell from his lips. And Chan wanted to put on a show for him.
“That’s not what I asked you to do,” Hongjoong said after a moment, and Chan froze.
Had he misunderstood? He’d done something wrong? He wasn’t good?
“You think I want you to touch your pathetic little cock?” Hongjoong giggled and the cruelty in it sent sparks flying down Chan’s spine. “This isn’t about you. You already came, didn’t you puppy? Why should it be about you?” Hongjoong leaned back in the chair, his grin turning almost wicked. “I didn’t ask you to touch your useless cock,” Hongjoong went on. “I want you to touch your pretty little hole for me.”
The shame burned hot, making Chan want to crawl away and hide even as his cock just got harder from it. He lifted his hand to reach for the lube that was lying discarded on the bed, trepidation making his arm feel heavy. He’d promised himself. He’d sworn he wouldn’t do that again. Finger himself like that. Even when trying the plug for the first time, he hadn’t allowed himself.
After the first time with Hongjoong, Chan had tried it. He’d tried it a lot, desperate to recreate how it had felt that night, trying to prove to himself that he didn’t need it or that he didn’t like it. That it couldn’t possibly have been as good as he remembered.
And it wasn’t.
When he did it himself it wasn’t. But it was close enough that it reminded him. Every frustrating brush of his fingers a cruel, tantalising hint of the promise he knew was there.
But he could never reach it.
It made him desperate. It made him consider things that scared him. Things that were a step or two further than he was ready to go.
To touch himself there, like that, for pleasure? He wasn’t allowed to do that anymore. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t break one of his rules.
Could he?
“Christopher?”
It was gentle. Chan realised he was hyperventilating a little, a roaring sound in his ears that only quietened when Hongjoong spoke his name.
“Yeah?” Chan swallowed hard.
“Can you do that for me?”
“I…” The sound of his own heart beating was so loud in his ears. Suddenly he felt so cold. “Yeah. I—Please, I’ll be good.” His hand shook a little as he gripped the bottle of lubricant a little tighter, before pouring some into his hand.
Then he flinched from the cold, slick feel of it.
It was an awkward position to be in, even more than using the plug, pulling his knees up and exposing himself to Hongjoong’s intense gaze and trying to reach to that place with his fingers. He let out a surprised breath as his fingers brushed against his hole, the cool, wet sensation now familiar to him and yet so different when he used his fingers.
“That’s good, baby,” Hongjoong said. “Rub the outside a little first – Yeah, like that.”
Chan used the flat of his two fingers to massage his rim as Hongjoong told him. He wasn’t sure if it was the physical sensation so much as the thrill he got from following Hongjoong’s directions that was turning him on more, but his cock was stirring again where it lay against Chan’s belly.
“Good boy, how does that feel?”
“Um—good—I think,” Chan stuttered.
“Try going up a little – that’s it – now press a little harder – yeah.”
Chan gasped. It felt similar to the sensitive place inside him that Hongjoong was so good at finding, but a different way to stimulate it. He pressed his fingers against it again and shuddered.
“How’s that?” The self-satisfied tone of his voice made Chan force his eyes open – when had he screwed them shut? – so he could look over to see his expression. Hongjoong was palming himself through his trousers, his position seemingly relaxed, but the hunger in his gaze, the way he bit his lip, the shortness of his breath, all gestured at something else.
“F—feels good.”
“Well, aren’t you lucky.” Hongjoong uncrossed his legs and leaned forward in the chair, his legs wide. “Now try pushing inside. It shouldn’t be too difficult after you’ve prepared yourself so well for me.”
Chan nodded, pulling his legs up a little higher, face burning. He was so exposed like this. Hongjoong was able to see every little thing, every part of him. Every reaction, every hitched breath and every hungry throb. Everything he always tried to hide.
And Hongjoong was correct, there wasn’t much resistance as he pushed two fingers inside. He was still relaxed from the plug and from Hongjoong’s fingers earlier. He hooked his fingers inside himself, going as far inside as he could.
It wasn’t enough, and he couldn’t hold back the frustrated whine he let out.
Readjusting his position, Chan tried again. This time he was able to reach deeper, but it still wasn’t enough. He felt like he was so close to finding movement that felt good, but no matter how he tried to flex his fingers or move them in and out of himself it was always only at the edge of the intense pleasure he knew he could experience. His brows furrowed as he kept at it, the hints of pleasure enough to keep the fire in his belly simmering as his cock filled out.
Hongjoong started laughing, full of derision and cruel enjoyment at Chan’s difficulty. “You still think this is about you,” Hongjoong said. “You think you’re supposed to come again?”
“I—”
“Pathetic.” Hongjoong rose to his feet, stalking towards the bed. The look in his eye was dangerous, and Chan’s stomach swooped in excitement. He pulled his fingers out and watched as Hongjoong pulled his shirt off as he walked. “I thought I had taught you last time, but clearly the lesson didn’t get through—”
“No, I did—!”
“Interrupting me?” Hongjoong snapped, shutting Chan up, swiftly pulling his trousers off as he got closer. “No, it’s clear you didn’t learn any lessons last time.” The anger in his voice made Chan shrink back, scrambling back on the bed as Hongjoong got on it.
Chan’s dick had never been harder in his life.
“You’re here for me,” Hongjoong said, crawling closer to Chan on the bed and grabbing at his legs. “You’re here for my pleasure. For me to use as I see fit. For me to do whatever I want with you.” He pushed Chan’s legs up again, folding him almost in half. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, sir.” Chan’s heart was beating hard in his throat, and he swallowed hard to try and loosen it.
“That’s what I thought.” Hongjoong got into place between Chan’s legs, his cock a hard and beautiful promise between them. “Let’s see how ready you really are.” He let go of one of Chan’s legs so he could use his hand to guide his cock to Chan’s hole.
Chan wished he could see it better, the moment Hongjoong entered him. He didn’t want to miss anything, after thinking about it so much over the past months, trying to convince himself that it wasn’t anything. Trying to lie to himself that he didn’t want this, that he wasn’t hoping for this. That he didn’t need this.
He’d been waiting for it for so long now, he realised. Like he had been building to this moment subconsciously in his mind.
Like it had always been inevitable that he would end up here again.
“Fuck,” he said as the head of Hongjoong’s cock touched his rim. “Fuck,” he said again as Hongjoong’s cock pressed against it and Chan’s rim easily gave way, welcoming Hongjoong back. “Fu-uck,” he said finally, his voice breathy and high pitched, as Hongjoong’s cock found its way to Chan’s core, Chan’s body giving no resistance to him, even though Hongjoong hadn’t even used any additional lube.
“Do you always slip into English when you’re having sex, or is it just when you get fucked?” Hongjoong asked, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust, in and out, hot enough to burn.
“Fuck,” Chan groaned, as it pushed him over the edge, the short, perfect drag of Hongjoong’s cock against his prostate making him see white as he came. His cock spilling over his stomach again.
He could feel Hongjoong laughing before he heard it, his senses slow to come back as the pleasure faded from his body. It was a strange feeling, the staccato of Hongjoong’s laugh reverberating through Chan’s insides. “You really are a perfect little cockslut,” Hongjoong said after a moment. “You were made for this, made to take my cock.”
Chan couldn’t respond, his whole body felt like jelly as he got back to himself from his orgasm. His tongue was heavy, and his mind was too fuzzy to form any words anyway. And wasn’t it right, anyway? He was made for this. This was what he was meant to do with himself. Give pleasure to others, for them to use until they’d had their fill.
“I’m not done with you yet,” Hongjoong said, grabbing a hold of both of Chan’s legs and pushing them higher up until Chan really was folded in half, his thighs pushed to his chest as Hongjoong started fucking him in earnest.
The moan he let out was too loud, he could tell that in some distant corner of his mind, but he still wasn’t able to control it as it was practically punched out of him by Hongjoong’s cock pistoning into him deeper than Chan would’ve thought was possible. Over and over Hongjoong pushed inside him, pounding against Chan’s prostate, and Chan had lost any control he had over his reactions. His cock was leaking against his stomach even as it was struggling to get hard again, and he knew he was making the most pathetic sounds, his entire body trembling.
He was so helpless in this position, made even more so when Hongjoong used his upper arms to hold Chan’s legs in position and grabbed hold of each of his wrists, resting his weight there as he thrust down into Chan.
“Ah—Please—Please—” Chan didn’t know what he was begging for. He didn’t know whether to melt into the position or to try to get some relief from the relentlessness of it. His muscles ached from it. He hoped he would feel it still the next day.
“You’re so tight for me,” Hongjoong said, slightly out of breath, looking down at Chan. “Your little hole is so greedy for my cock, hugging it so perfectly.”
“Yeah?”
“So good for me,” Hongjoong went on. “Such a good boy.”
“I’m good?” Chan knew he was being pathetic; he could feel the pout on his lips as he looked up at Hongjoong pleadingly.
“Such a good puppy.” Hongjoong’s thrusts became harder, more of a staccato. Chan watched as Hongjoong’s teeth dug into his lower lip, his eyes falling closed.
“I’m good…”
“Fuck, fuck, so good, fuck, I’m gonna come. I’m—” His weight leaned even heavier on on Chan’s wrists, on his thighs, pressing him down into the mattress as Hongjoong came so close to Chan’s face that he could feel Hongjoong’s breath hitting his face. Chan lifted his head as far as he could, but Hongjoong was just out of reach for Chan to brush their lips together. For a brief moment of insanity, Chan thought that if Hongjoong kissed him right then that it would be enough to make him come again.
Chan almost cried with relief when Hongjoong’s hips stuttered in their movements, his thrusts deep and pointed, and Chan could feel the moment his orgasm hit him, emptying deep inside him, so deep that Chan thought it would never come out. He hoped it wouldn’t. Hongjoong’s face scrunched up adorably as he came, his mouth falling open as his thrusts got more uncoordinated. He was louder than Chan remembered him being. Chan wished he could capture his moans with his mouth, hiding them away for later. For the nights where he was alone in his third hotel room in four nights.
Hongjoong went slack on top of Chan, slowly at first, Chan’s legs and wrists slipping from his grip before he collapsed down. Chan caught him, wrapping his arms and thighs around him to keep him secure as his head rested on Chan’s chest. Chan’s cock was still hard where it was trapped between them. Chan simply watched as Hongjoong’s breathing slowly got back to normal, giving in to the impulse to brush his wavy hair out of his face so that Chan could look at him properly. The way his dark lashes rested against his cheekbones, the unfairly perfect bow of his lips, the dainty tip of his nose.
He almost started wondering if Hongjoong had fallen asleep when he finally stirred. Chan gasped when he shifted his weight, his cock dragging against Chan’s sensitive insides as he did.
“You okay?” Hongjoong mumbled.
“Y-yeah, I—ah—”
“Sorry,” Hongjoong said, stilling. “Sensitive?”
“Yeah, I just—” It was Chan’s turn to move awkwardly, his cock pushing up against Hongjoong’s abdomen.
“Aw, you’re still hard, puppy?”
It was fascinating to watch Hongjoong slip back into the persona he had on when they were fucking. The subtle differences in how he spoke and how he carried himself, and especially in his facial expressions that came with it. “Please?” Chan asked, trusting that Hongjoong would know what he wanted.
“Please what?”
But Hongjoong was never that merciful with Chan, was he? “Please, can I come. Please sir.”
Hongjoong hummed, reaching up to brush the hair from Chan’s face, before running his thumb over Chan’s bottom lip, tugging slightly on it. “Puppy has gotten so good at begging for treats.” He smirked. Then he reached down with his other hand, wrapping his hand around Chan’s cock.
“Thank you, thank you,” Chan blubbered as pleasure sparked through his body.
“Though, really,” Hongjoong mused. “A cockslut like you only deserves to come from getting fucked.” He rolled his hips lazily. His cock was starting to soften inside Chan, but it still made Chan gasp from the dual stimulation.
“God,” Chan moaned.
“See,” Hongjoong said. “You always start speaking English when you get fucked.” Then he pulled out of Chan.
“No, no, no, please,” Chan said, trying to wrap his arms around Hongjoong to keep him there. Hongjoong slapped his arms away, before leaning away from Chan for a moment.
“That’s not what good puppies do, is it?” Hongjoong asked. He held one hand up and Chan’s eyes barely managed to focus on the plug in Hongjoong’s hand before Hongjoong was reaching down to push it inside him.
Chan gasped at the feeling of being full again. The plug didn’t reach deep enough to give him real pleasure, but there was something comforting about it nonetheless. Not to mention the thought of how it held Hongjoong’s come inside him.
“You’re such a greedy little cockslut, aren’t you.” His hand moved, fucking him with the plug shallowly. “You love being full of my come, don’t you?”
“I’m not—”
“You really are desperate for anything you can get to fill you up.”
“That’s—”
“Yeah you are,” Hongjoong interrupted him. “It’s okay, you’re a beautiful cock-hungry little slut.” The way he moved the plug was teasing at the most sensitive part of Chan’s body, making Chan squeeze his eyes shut and groan. He wanted to protest that he wasn’t, he wasn’t a slut, but…
It was right, wasn’t it? He was desperate for this, wasn’t he? It was all he could think about. It was the one thing that made him feel peaceful for a moment. That quieted down all the voices in his head that doubted and worried and feared and envied. “Yeah, I am,” he said. Then, “Don’t stop, please, I want to come.”
“Greedy,” Hongjoong tsk-ed. “You already came twice and you want more?” His hand moved faster, the other one reaching for Chan’s dick to slowly stroke it. “Full of my come and begging for more.”
It was too much.
It was so much.
His body was overwhelmed with sensation, his hips thrusting futilely into Hongjoong’s fist and back against the plug.
“Please…”
“Yeah?”
“Please, kiss me,” Chan blurted out. Then he couldn’t meet Hongjoong’s gaze anymore, squeezing them shut instead.
It was such a long moment where Chan was stuck in limbo, waiting as Hongjoong faltered, his hands stilling, and no sound was heard except for both of their laboured breathing.
Then, as Chan was about to give up all hope, expecting Hongjoong to jump away from him and his neediness in revulsion, there was a soft, gentle touch of lips against his.
And Chan got greedy.
He usually wasn’t greedy. Or perhaps it was more correct to say that he had managed to tame his greed with an iron fist, harnessing it where he could and euthanising it ruthlessly when he had to.
But he was greedy now, as he pulled Hongjoong closer, as he moved his mouth against his, as he lapped up what he could, whatever Hongjoong would give him. He moaned into Hongjoong’s mouth, trying to deepen the kiss, trying to provoke a response, trying to get Hongjoong to open up to him.
Hongjoong kissed him back so measuredly, so full of restraint – almost hesitatingly. Chan couldn’t understand the dichotomy between that and how he fucked Chan so unreservedly. Unfortunately, Chan ran out of brainpower to try and figure it out, as his third orgasm washed over him, his cock convulsing weakly in Hongjoong’s hand and adding to the mess already on Chan’s stomach. Hongjoong’s soft lips pressed one last kiss to Chan’s, before pulling back.
This time, it was Hongjoong who wouldn’t meet his eyes, and he rolled over to lie down beside Chan as the silence stretched between them.
It was such a crash to come down from the high of his orgasm to the cruel reality of an awkward sexual encounter that Chan almost felt dizzy from it, his breath catching in his throat like a hiccup. And then another one.
“Fuck,” Hongjoong said. “I’m sorry, come here.” He pulled Chan closer, pulling at him and adjusting his position until Chan’s head was resting on Hongjoong’s chest. “You did so well tonight, puppy.” He patted Chan’s head before running his fingers through Chan’s hair. “You were so good for me.”
Chan sniffled, but he wanted to die a little less now than he did a minute earlier, so he allowed himself to snuggle into Hongjoong further, his hand landing on Hongjoong’s stomach. “I’m sorry,” Chan said. “I shouldn’t have—”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Hongjoong interrupted him. “Good puppies ask for what they want.”
“Okay.”
“There’s—There’s nothing wrong with it,” Hongjoong said. “The things you like. What you are. What you ask for.”
Chan felt pathetic. He’d been pathetic all night, but that hadn’t seemed to bother Hongjoong. He was still here, holding him close. He’d kissed Chan despite it. He hated the hope he felt at Hongjoong’s words. The way he wanted to believe him. The way he did believe him. He turned his head to look up at Hongjoong, whose eyes were kind as they met Chan’s.
“You’ve done amazing. You’re allowed to be proud of it. You’re allowed to be proud of yourself. It doesn’t matter if you think you could’ve done better or could’ve done something else. You already did great.”
It was a little simple, a little cliché, but Chan thought he understood.
They lay there for a long time, Chan feeling boneless and content as Hongjoong’s fingers ran through his hair, his other hand playing with Chan’s fingers where they rested on Hongjoong’s stomach. It was nice, even as awkwardness started seeping in. At least to Chan. Hongjoong seemed content.
“I should probably…”
“Hm? There’s no rush,” Hongjoong said.
“Don’t you have someone waiting for you?” Chan asked, thinking back to their interruption earlier.
“Nah, he’s fine. It’s good for him.”
Chan almost shuddered trying to imagine what Hongjoong was subjecting that other guy to. Maybe it was for the best that they only met up so rarely. Even if Chan couldn’t get this anywhere else. It wasn’t good for him to let himself indulge too much anyway. He shouldn’t allow himself to get used to this feeling.
But it was difficult to remind himself that he didn’t deserve it when the way Hongjoong’s fingers gently brushed through his hair was making his eyelids feel so heavy, and his body felt so warm and contented as Hongjoong pulled the blankets up around them.
He didn’t know how much time had passed when Chan opened his eyes again, but the room had gone dark with only a lamp lit in the far corner.
“You okay?” came Hongjoong’s voice, softly murmuring into Chan’s hair.
Chan hummed, pulling Hongjoong closer for a moment, breathing in his scent. “I really should get back before anyone notices I’m gone.” He didn’t want to leave the comforting warmth of the bed, didn’t want the spell of their encounter to be broken just yet, but he knew he had to. He had to.
“Yeah,” Hongjoong said, his hand stilling where it had been running up and down Chan’s arm where he held him. “I’ll walk you back.”
“There’s no need—”
“Chan,” Hongjoong said in a voice that brokered no argument. Then he softened. “Are you sure you’re alright? It was kind of a lot, tonight.”
“I’m fine,” Chan said automatically. A practiced response, but in this case not entirely untruthful. He felt more hopeful than he had before, even though he still wasn’t thrilled about what all this meant or what it said about him.
So maybe he was a little bit gay, he’d just have to learn to deal with it. Hongjoong didn’t seem bothered by it, so why should Chan be?
The other thing he wasn’t really used to was the no-strings-attached sex. He usually either didn’t like the other person enough to enjoy it, or he caught feelings that ruined everything and made him want to die. With Hongjoong, neither seemed likely to be a problem. It was like there were clearly set boundaries, even though they hadn’t really discussed it in such explicit terms. They both got what they needed out of it.
Or at least, that was what Chan assumed.
“What about you?” he asked. “It was a lot for you too. I’m sorry that I’m—I’m not easy to deal with, I guess.” He laughed awkwardly.
“You are, actually,” Hongjoong said, and Chan looked up at him with surprise. “I’ve had a lot worse.”
“Really?” Chan was curious, again thinking back to the unexpected visitor earlier, but it didn’t feel right to pry, so he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t want to know.
Hongjoong just hummed, before sitting up. “Stay here, I’ll be back.” Hongjoong got up off the bed and walked to the bathroom.
It was almost a familiar routine as he returned with a washcloth and cleaned Chan up. Chan allowed him to push and pull and arrange him into positions as he did so, drawing in a sharp breath of air when Hongjoong cleaned around the plug still nestled between Chan’s cheeks, and Chan couldn’t be sure if the way he brushed against it, making Chan gasp, was an accident or not.
“Up to you how long you keep it in,” Hongjoong said, and there was a challenge in the raise of his eyebrows, and Chan really, really didn’t have time to get hard again. The silence as they got dressed each in their own corner was more companionable than awkward. Were they friends now? Like, actual friends? Because Chan didn’t really have very many friends outside of his group. Acquaintances and casual relationships, sure, but it felt like more with Hongjoong now, after everything.
“Thanks,” Chan said in a low voice as they got to his hotel room door. “You really didn’t have to walk me all the way back.” It was late, and Chan wasn’t sure if any of the others were back from the afterparty yet or perhaps already asleep in their rooms. He hadn’t checked his phone in what felt like hours now.
“Yeah, I did,” Hongjoong said. “See you later.”
It was a statement, not a question. Chan fumbled with his keycard to open the door as Hongjoong stood and watched, a small smile on his lips.
“Get some sleep, alright?”
“Yeah, you too.”
The door closed behind Chan, and Chan felt bone-deep tired. He walked to his bed and threw himself down on it, face-first. It jostled the plug in his ass, making him remember that he was still full of Hongjoong’s come. He’d have to take it out eventually, but for now it felt… comforting. He’d gotten so used to wearing it that it didn’t bother him at all anymore.
That should be scary. All of this should be scary to him. He was coming face to face with parts of himself that he had always tried to deny or pack away somewhere deep inside him so he never had to look at them. It wasn’t a straightforward process to come to terms with that and to reconcile those distinct aspects of who he was.
But maybe he could do it. Maybe he could.
And if he had someone like Hongjoong on his side, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.