Work Text:
Gun was done.
Finals week had taken everything out of him—and everyone around him as a matter of fact. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done anything other than stare at textbooks, highlight notes until the colours blurred together, and write papers late into the night. His head constantly ached, his eyes burned, and his patience was wearing thinner by the hour. Even his boyfriend, who literally lived in the same house as him, barely spent any time with him anymore.
When the time come and the door of the exam hall closed behind him with a dull thud for the last time. No relief came—only exhaustion so deep it settled into his bones. His shoulders ached, his head felt foggy, and his brain was still stuck in exam mode, replaying questions he no longer needed to answer.
He practically dragged himself through the halls to get to the canteen where some of his friends were already waiting for him.
Faifa was leaning back in his chair, already talking too loudly for someone who’d just finished finals. Wine sat across from him, scrolling through his phone, while Yotha stood in line for drinks. He smiled softly at his boyfriend and sat down with the rest, dropping his bag at his feet and slumping into the empty seat beside Wine.
“You survived puppy.” Faifa grinned.
“Barely”
Wine smiled at Gun tiredly, and Gun couldn’t help noticing the dark circles under his eyes. He genuinely had no idea how the youngest of their group managed to handle the beam of chaos that was his boyfriend—especially during exhausting times like finals.
His boyfriend returned with the drinks and handed one to Gun without a second thought, their fingers brushing for just a second. He felt it like electricity—and then Yotha pulled away, already listening as Faifa launched into his next sentence.
“So,” he started, clapping his hands together, “celebration tonight. At Newton’s bar. No excuses.”
Wine hummed in agreement. “Everyone’s going. We deserve it.”
Gun forced a small smile and nodded along, even though the word party made his stomach twist.
Bar. Noise. People. Music. After weeks of nothing but stress and studying.
He didn’t want that.
What he wanted was to go home… To curl up on the couch with his boyfriend, steal his hoodie, maybe fall asleep halfway through a movie with Yotha’s arm around him. He wanted quiet. He wanted his boyfriend and not just stolen moments between textbooks and deadlines.
But Gun swallowed and kept his eyes on his drink as his boyfriend already accepted the invitation.
“Sounds… fun,” he said, hating how flat it came out.
Yotha glanced at him then, just briefly, like he was trying to read something Gun wasn’t saying. Their eyes met, and for a second, Gun almost cracked.
Almost.
They stayed in the canteen for longer than Gun expected.
Faifa talked. And talked. And talked some more—about the exam questions, about how unfair one section was, about how tonight was definitely going to be legendary. Wine chimed in occasionally, mostly with amused nods and quiet comments, while Gun slowly worked through his drink, listening without really processing any of it.
The noise around them blurred together; laughter from nearby tables, chairs scraping against the floor, Faifa’s animated gestures. Gun felt oddly detached, like he was watching everything from behind glass. Finals were over. Everyone was celebrating. And yet all he could feel was how tired he was.
Yotha stayed close. Not hovering—but close enough that Gun noticed. Their knees brushed when they shifted in their seats. At some point, he rested a hand on Gun’s thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. Grounding. Reassuring.
Eventually, the cups were empty, and Faifa finally ran out of breath.
Yotha made up some excuse to get them out of the school, and soon they split up, accompanied by the late afternoon warmth they slid into the car. Gun right away sunk back with a quiet exhale as the door shut. The moment the engine started, the world felt… quieter.
They drove in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the city passing by in a soft blur. Then Yotha spoke, eyes still on the road.
“You’re not really okay with tonight, are you?”
Gun turned to look at him, surprised—not because the question was unexpected, but because his boyfriend had seen through him so easily. As always.
“I didn’t say that,” Gun murmured.
“You didn’t have to,” Yotha replied gently.
His heart swelled. Ever since they had officially started dating, Yotha had been nothing but the most caring boyfriend he could have asked for. He paid attention to Gun’s habits, his tone, the little cues he didn’t even realize he gave off. It felt nice being noticed like this. Being known. Being taken care of in moments when his people-pleasing instincts quietly took over.
He hesitated, fingers curling in his lap. “I’m tired,” he admitted quietly. “And I kind of just wanted… us. But I don’t want to miss out either. It’s been so long since we were all together.”
Yotha nodded, understanding instantly. No pressure. No judgment.
“We can still go,” he said. “But we don’t have to jump straight into everything. We can go directly to the bar, head upstairs to my room. We still have some clothes there so we can change, hang out for a bit and have some cozy time before everyone shows up.”
Gun imagined it—quiet room, familiar space, Yotha close again without textbooks or exams between them. His chest loosened.
“…That sounds good,” he said softly.
Yotha smiled and reached over, squeezing his hand briefly before returning it to the wheel.
Just like that, the uneasiness faded. Gun leaned back in his seat again, watching the road ahead. Even if tonight got overwhelming, even if it was loud and crowded he wasn’t alone.
He’d get his friends.
He’d get his boyfriend.
𓏲ּ𝄢
Newton’s bar was still quiet when they arrived.
The low hum of music and a few scattered voices leaking through the open doors gave it away. It wasn’t crowded yet, but it was loud enough that Gun felt it press against his senses the moment he stepped inside. He stayed close to his boyfriend, letting familiarity guide him through the space.
Newton noticed them almost immediately.
“There you are,” he said with an easy grin, already moving toward them. He ruffled his younger brother’s hair in greeting before turning his attention to Gun. “Survived finals?”
“At what cost, phi,” Gun answered, smiling despite himself.
“Go relax,” Newton waved them off. “There’s still plenty of time before everyone starts showing up.”
Yotha nodded in thanks, fingers brushing against Gun’s wrist as he gently steered him toward the stairs.
Each step upward softened the noise behind them. The music dulled. The chatter blurred. By the time they reached the room upstairs, the world below felt miles away.
Unlike their actual bedroom, this one was incredibly neat, barely used. Only a few signs of their sporadic presence gave it away—a hoodie draped over the desk chair, neatly folded pyjamas resting on the dresser. It felt familiar, and because of that, it felt safe.
Gun let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
Shoes were kicked off, and warm eyes turned toward him. “You okay?”
He nodded, then stepped forward, pressing into Yotha’s arms without thinking. Arms wrapped around him immediately, instinctive and sure. The silence settled comfortably between them. A thumb brushed lazily over his waist as they swayed slightly: slow, steady movements meant to soothe.
“Should we grab something to change into?” came the soft question after a while.
“Sure.”
Before his boyfriend could step away, Gun finally feeling like he was home rose onto his toes and pressed a gentle kiss to familiar lips. It was brief. Unhurried.
A smile followed, foreheads resting together for just a moment. “Shall we?”
They changed slowly, unhurried, and when they were done, Gun immediately snatched a hoodie he’d noticed earlier, it was soft, worn, and faintly scented like the person he’d taken it from. The sleeves swallowed his hands, the hem brushing his thighs. Just like that, he felt like the happiest person on the planet.
Yotha raised an eyebrow, amused. “Beagle, you know you have your own clothes here.”
Gun shrugged, already curling the sleeves over his fingers. “I like this one better.”
And really, who was his boyfriend to argue when he looked this comfortable? This cozy?
They ended up on the bed not long after, Gun tucked against a familiar side, his head resting comfortably on a steady chest. An arm wrapped around him easily, fingers tracing slow, absent patterns across his back.
Sometimes it still felt strange, in a good way.
There had been a time when this—this exact moment—felt impossible. When misunderstandings piled up higher than words, when distance and overthinking had gotten in the way of everything he wanted to say. Lying here now, held so easily, it was hard to believe they’d ever been anything but this.
His gaze drifted upward, tracing the familiar line of a jaw, the relaxed set of his boyfriend’s mouth. He still found it surprising sometimes—how soft he could be. How affectionate. How all that warmth had been hidden so carefully behind a guarded exterior back when they barely knew each other.
Soft smile bloomed on his lips.
Under that carefully built facade was someone so loving it almost caught him off guard every time.
A shift beside him pulled him back. A glance downward, warm and curious.
“What’s that smile for?” came the quiet question.
Gun hummed, debating for a moment. “I was just thinking,” he said softly. “It’s funny how things turn out.”
A brow lifted. “Funny how?”
He tilted his chin up just enough to meet his eyes. “You know how everyone keeps calling me a puppy?” His lips twitched. “I think that title might need to be reconsidered.”
Confusion flickered across his boyfriend’s face. “What?”
Gun’s smile turned playful. “Because honestly? These days you’re way worse than me.”
“…Excuse me?”
He laughed quietly and reached up, patting his boyfriend’s chest as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You’re clingy. You follow me around. And you get all soft and attentive the second I look tired,” he teased. “So really—”
He leaned in just enough to murmur it.
“Good puppy.”
For a split second, Yotha froze.
Then his ears turned red. Then his cheeks. Then the color spread everywhere Gun could see.
“Gun,” came a low groan as hands tightened just a little around his waist. “You’re unbelievable.”
A cheeky smile spread across Gun’s face—bingo.
“You say that,” he murmured, fingers lightly gripping the fabric at Yotha’s side, “but I think you like being called a good puppy.”
The look he got in response told him everything.
Heat flashed behind dark eyes. The hold on his waist tightened again, deliberate this time, pulling him closer than necessary.
“…You’re playing a dangerous game,” came the low murmur, voice rougher now.
Gun only smiled—slow, satisfied.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “I know.”
Then he shifted until he was the one hovering above, knees settling on either side of his boyfriend’s hips. The change was subtle, but the reaction wasn’t.
A sharp inhale. Wide eyes flicking up in surprise.
“Gun—”
He leaned in before the protest could finish, closing the distance on his own terms. The kiss he pressed to waiting lips was slow and intentional, confident in a way that left no room for doubt. He knew exactly how to move, how long to linger, how to pull back just enough to leave the want simmering.
He broke the kiss deliberately, pressing Yotha down into the mattress before he could chase it.
A quiet, frustrated sound slipped free.
“See?” Gun murmured, brushing their noses together, breath warm. “Good puppy.”
That did it.
Another kiss followed, deeper this time. One hand slid up to cradle his jaw, thumb pressing lightly beneath his chin, keeping him exactly where he wanted him. The control wasn’t rough just sure.
When Gun finally pulled back, the breath beneath him was uneven.
“…Since when are you like this?” came the quiet question.
Gun leaned in, lips brushing Yotha’s ear. “Since I realized you like it.”
Silence stretched thick, charged.
Then a soft, breathless laugh. Hands finally settled at his waist, grounding but not resisting.
“You’re dangerous,” his boyfriend admitted.
Gun hummed, pleased, shifting just enough to make the closeness undeniable. “You don’t look unhappy about it.”
No answer came just a slow tilt of the head, eyes half-lidded, asking without words.
Gun didn’t deny him.
The next kiss was softer, almost sweet, before Gun’s attention drifted to the curve of a jaw, the sensitive skin beneath it. He lingered there deliberately, unhurried, drawing quiet reactions that sent warmth spiralling through his chest.
Each breath, each subtle sound only encouraged him. He shifted lower, taking his time, hands sliding underneath Yotha’s t-shirt just to tug it off. Without any barrier he could come back and explore his lovers body freely which made the other’s sweet sounds become louder and louder.
Before he pushed his luck any further, Gun pressed down on his arms again, keeping him in place. The reaction was immediate—wide, dark eyes snapping back to him, breath catching all at once.
“Stay,” Gun murmured, voice low and steady.
The shudder that followed sent a thrill straight through him. Looking up he began leave kitten lick on one of Yotha’s nipples which made the man’s breath hitch. The more he lingered, the harder it became for the other to stay still, hips shifting restlessly in search of friction.
Gun noticed.
“Be good…” he murmured, satisfied. “Let me enjoy this.”
The answer came not in words, but in the way his boyfriend stilled for him—tense, flushed, completely undone which made Gun smile, he was already drunk on the power of it all.
After giving his chest a little more attention, Gun trailed lower, unhurried and deliberate, tugging fabric out of the way as he went. The reaction was immediate—a sharp gasp, breath breaking as Yotha’s lenght finally sprung free.
Gun smiled to himself, satisfied, letting the moment stretch just long enough to feel the effect he was having. He could not possibly help himself and ended up letting his tongue ghost on the already leaking dick. Following a vein, he went from the very bottom to the top where he stopped and gave it a small suck.
Hearing his name like that nearly did him in. Still, he forced himself to stay calm, to stay in control. He moved back up, pressing a gentle kiss to the bridge of his boyfriend’s nose to calm down before things got any further.
“Hey,” he murmured softly. “How would you feel about switching positions this time?”
There was a beat of stunned silence. Then a small shift beneath him, lips parting, closing, before the answer finally came, quiet, honest, and full of want.
“Oh God,” he breathed. “Yes. Please.”
Gun laughed softly, unable to help himself. The sound only made the flush deepen, though a shy smile followed soon after.
“Good.”
Yotha couldn’t hold himself back. He tugged his boyfriend closer, closing the distance between them to melt their lips together in a kiss that was everything he couldn’t quite put into words. It was deeper than before, less teasing, as if he were trying to pour every feeling he’d been holding onto into that single moment. How safe he felt. How wanted. How overwhelming it was to be seen like this and cherished anyway.
The kiss turned messy and earnest, full of quiet desperation. Gun answered it just as fiercely, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of Yotha’s neck, keeping him close. Their breaths tangled; foreheads brushed when they finally pulled back just enough to breathe.
“I love you so much.” Yotha whispered, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
A gentle hand came up to stroke his cheek. “I love you too.”
Gun shifted then, careful and unhurried, moving just enough to reach into the bedside table taking out lube. Yotha stayed still, eyes following every movement, a flicker of nerves passing through him despite the warmth pooling low in his stomach.
Gun noticed immediately.
He leaned back in, pressing soft kisses along Yotha’s cheek, his jaw, his temple—slow, grounding touches meant to soothe.
“Hey,” he murmured quietly. “I’ve got you.”
The tension eased slightly, replaced by trust. Gun took his time after that easing in one of his fingers into his boyfriend’s heat. He remained attentive and focused, checking in with every small reaction, every breath. Nothing was rushed.
When Yotha finally relaxed beneath him, breath growing uneven, Gun smiled softly—proud, careful, still learning but determined to do it right. He slowly teased his second finger in which made the other’s brows furrow slightly.
“All good?” he asked quietly.
Unfocused eyes lifted to meet his, and after a brief pause, Yotha nodded.
Gun’s smile warmed. “Good boy,” he murmured. “Tell me if it gets too much.”
The response came not in words, but in the way Yotha exhaled, tension easing, gaze softening with trust. There was a faint spark in his eyes then something warm and knowing—that told Gun everything he needed to hear.
With third finger added soon enough his entrance became more lose and relaxed and shuddering breath changes into quiet moans that went straight into the other’s forgotten dick, still trapped under his clothes.
Yotha couldn’t help the small sound that escaped him at the sudden loss of warmth, a quiet protest leaving his lips before he could stop it when his boyfriend stopped. But the feeling shifted almost immediately as he looked up.
Gun was moving above him, unhurriedly, pulling away just long enough to rid himself of his clothes. The sight alone stole Yotha’s breath, anticipation curling low in his stomach. He loved with how much confidence the other carried himself while being in charge. It must’ve been one of the hottest sights Yotha ever seen.
His eyes trialling every single move - he watched as the man prepares himself, the rushed moves proved Yotha that he wasn’t the only one craving for what comes next this badly. Watching his boyfriend sleek his now covered length with lube he tugged him down to melt their lips in a heated kiss.
The sensation of his boyfriend entering him was… strange. New. Not bad, but not easy either. He was never at the receiving end so he did not know what exactly to expect. The longer it went on, the harder it became to ignore the discomfort curling through him. but he swallowed it down, jaw tightening as he tried to push through.
He wanted this to work. Wanted to prove that he could do this.
Gun noticed anyway.
The hesitation in his movements, the way Yotha’s brows pulled together despite his effort to stay relaxed. Gun stilled, eyes searching his face instead of his body.
“Baby,” he murmured, gentle but serious, “are you okay?”
“Yes—” The answer came too fast.
Gun didn’t buy it. His thumb brushed softly along Yotha’s cheek “Don’t bullshit me.”
There was a pause. Then a quiet breath.
“…It’s uncomfortable,” he finally admitted, voice low. “But I really want to try. I don’t want to stop yet.”
Gun held his gaze, listening—not pushing, not pulling away either. Just there. Present.
Overwhelmed by everything crashing through him at once, Yotha reached out and caught his hand, fingers curling around it in a gentle squeeze. It was grounding in a way words couldn’t be, a quiet stay with me pressed into skin.
“…Can you try to move?” he asked softly.
Gun drew in a shaky breath before nodding, careful and attentive as he followed his lead. His movements were slow, almost hesitant but not because he didn’t want this, but because he wanted to do it right. His eyes never left Yotha’s face, searching for every reaction, every breath, every tiny shift that might tell him more than words could.
He swallowed, heart pounding, torn between how good it felt to be wrapped by such delicious heat and how badly he wanted Yotha to feel just as good.
For a moment, everything stayed taut—breaths shallow, bodies tense beneath Gun’s careful attention. Then Yotha spoke, quiet but steady, fingers tightening briefly around Gun’s hand like an anchor.
“Please… just like this.”
Gun slowly started to feel the shift, the way the tension eased into something warmer, more open. His breath hitched, relief and encouragement flooding through him all at once.
“That’s it,” he whispered, voice low and reverent. “You’re doing so good, my puppy. You’re perfect.”
He hadn’t expected the reaction.
Yotha’s breath broke, a sound slipping free before he could stop it, followed by his walls tightening around the other’s length. Then there came sudden movement from Gun’s side who instinctively thrusted a bit harder than before, and thank god the reaction he got back was once more positive one.
“Gun—please,” Yotha breathed, voice rough now, guiding him with a shaky urgency. “Right there…”
The way his name sounded like that sent heat spiralling through Gun’s chest. He followed on as told keeping the peace a bit more urgent, he moved with more confidence now, not rushing but no longer hesitant either. There was a rhythm to them, something mutual they’d slipped into without realizing. When Yotha’s fingers tightened, when his head tipped back just slightly, Gun followed instinctively, like he’d always known how.
Their breathing synced, rising and falling together. The air between them felt charged, their lips once more melted into each other pouring all their feelings into it.
Without breaking the kiss the younger decided to test his waters and one of his hands moved to his partner’s peck massaging it and when the reaction was positive once more he directed his fingers to hardened nipple and began play and tug at it.
That made Yotha’s back arch giving them both even more pleasure than before due to change of the angle.
“Gun,” he murmured, voice breaking just enough to make his name feel like a plea.
That was all it took.
Whatever had been holding them back at last unraveled all at once. Gun’s hand slid down to support his boyfriend’s back thrusting deeper and stronger than before and the reaction was immediate, Yotha shuddered, breath breaking as the closeness overwhelmed him in the best way possible.
Gun chased those reactions instinctively, leaning down to press kisses along his neck, lingering there as if he couldn’t get enough. The kisses turned into small bites not too long after, ones that would surely leave most beautiful marks.
Yotha melted beneath the attention, every breath uneven, every sound an unguarded response. It felt like too much and not enough all at once, the intensity wrapping around them until there was nothing else. To help himself he reached down to get even more pleasure, but before he was able to go any further a hand stopped his movement.
“Nu-uh, be a good puppy Yotha” his hand was pinned down right next to his head. “You’ll cum only on my cock”
The little wicked smirk on Gun’s face made him breathless, mouth agape and not being able to make out any sort of sound until his boyfriend once more hit his sweet spot and then carried on abusing it. Yotha’s free hand anchored itself in Gun’s hair tugging at it softly which made him release a small gasp.
Both of them knew they were so close to the finish line, the movements growing more and more erratic, soft pleas were never ending making Gun feel like he’s going crazy. He leaned down breaking their charged eye contact.
“Will you cum for me beautiful?” he whispered to his ear.
The response was immediate Yotha’s walls clenched around Gun’s dick deliciously.
“…yes yes, Gun… please”
Gun kissed him again, slower this time, like he was savouring it—like he wanted his partner to feel every second of it. Meeting him just as desperately, Yotha parted his with a quiet sound that sent warmth spiralling straight through Gun’s chest.
“Gun,” his name came out barely steady, full of want and trust all tangled together.
“You’re doing so good… my puppy.”
The praise hit harder than either of them expected. A broken sound slipped free, Yotha’s body responding instinctively, his release painted both of their chests. Everything narrowed down to sensation and closeness. the way their breaths tangled, the way the other clutched at him like he was the only solid thing left in the world. Gun followed not too long after spiling into the condom, his hips moving lazily now that they both reached their climax.
For a moment, there was nothing but warmth and heavy breathing and the quiet aftermath of it all. Gun rested his forehead against Yotha’s, eyes closed, thumb tracing slow, soothing patterns like he was afraid to let go too soon.
As the tension that had filled the room earlier was easing down, replaced with something softer, warm and safe. He pulled out and quietly lifted himself to dispose of the used condom as well as to grab a towel to clean both of them up.
When he came back his boyfriend laid there limp with his eyes closed, he did not move an inch even when Gun delicately cleaned him up which made the man giggle. His boyfriend was truly such a baby sometimes.
After everything has been cleaned away Gun tucked himself in, cheek resting against Yotha’s chest, fingers tracing lazy, absent patterns like he was counting heartbeats. An arm wrapped around him almost immediately, pulling him in with a quiet hum of contentment.
“There you go,” Gun murmured, voice low and fond. “Still on this planet?”
A weak laugh puffed out above him. “Barely,” came the reply, amused and a little hoarse.
Gun smiled to himself, pressing a soft kiss against warm skin before settling again. He could feel the faint tremor still lingering, the way Yotha’s hand rested at his back like he didn’t quite want to let go yet.
“Didn’t know you had it in you,” he added after a moment, teasing but gentle. “That confident look suits you.”
Gun lifted his head just enough to look at him, eyes bright with mischief. “Oh? Right… I seem to remember someone being very responsive.”
That earned him a groan and a half-hearted attempt to hide his face. “Don’t get cocky.”
“Too late,” there came another kiss—this one slower, sweeter. “You did so well though.”
A pause.
“…You’re never letting that ‘good puppy’ thing go, are you?”
Gun laughed softly, curling back into his place like he belonged there—which he did. “Maybe not,” he admitted. “But only because you look really cute when you’re flustered.”
Yotha huffed, arms tightening around him just a bit. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you love me,” Gun replied easily, already half-asleep.
There was a beat of silence. Then a soft kiss pressed to his hair.
“I really do.”
They layed there for a while longer, tangled together and half-drowsy, until Yotha’s phone buzzed against the mattress.
He frowned faintly, shifting just enough to reach for it. The moment he read the screen, his expression froze.
“…Oh no.”
Gun lifted his head, immediately suspicious. “What?”
Yotha hesitated, then turned the phone so he could see.
Newton: When you two are done, everyone’s already downstairs ;)
There was a beat of silence.
Then Gun burst out laughing, burying his face against Yotha’s chest while the other groaned, one hand coming up to cover his face in sheer embarrassment.
“He knows,” Yotha muttered. “…Or he heard us.”
Gun laughed even harder. “You think?”
“He’s never going to let this go,” came the reply, half-mortified, half-amused. “I’m never hearing the end of it.”
Bright, mischievous eyes looked up at him. “Worth it though.”
That earned a reluctant smile—and a soft kiss pressed to his forehead.
“Very,” he admitted.
Eventually, they managed to peel themselves apart, laughing quietly as they stumbled toward the bathroom. The shower felt like heaven; warm water, lingering touches, a few more stolen kisses that stayed safely sweet this time.
By the time they were dressed and presentable again, the haze had lifted into something lighter. Comfortable. Domestic. Gun reached for Yotha’s hand as they headed for the door, giving it a small squeeze.
“Ready to face them?”
A sigh, then a squeeze back. “Fuck no. But let’s go.”
The bar was far livelier than before. More people crowded the space now, voices overlapping, drinks already half-empty. It didn’t take long to spot their gang at their usual table as the noise alone gave them away.
The moment they approached, the chatter died.
Every head turned.
“Well, look who finally decided to bless us with their presence,” Arm drawled, lifting his glass. He tried to look annoyed, but the grin ruined it completely. “YothaGun… Or should I say GunYotha, huh?”
Gun froze.
Yeah. They were absolutely screwed.
“Damn right, where are our drinks?”