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in catching you off guard

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The thing you need to know about Jongsuk is this: he likes it.

Not the dressing up particularly – he’s not that kinky – but the waiting. The anticipation of having Woobin walking in on him like this makes his blood boil, perhaps even more than the slick, empty feeling between his legs.

He likes cleaning up on its own, but to do it and get a chance to rile Woobin up is a pleasure. Somewhere along their relationship driving his boyfriend crazy – with lust, jealousy, whatever – became Jongsuk’s source of amusement. The fact that the resulting sex is always mindblowing isn’t helping.

He’s just about to extend an arm underneath the corner table with the dust buster in one hand when the front door chimes open. Woobin’s back from his editorial photo shoot, possibly high on praises and back pats from nailing the dark, brooding concept, and Jongsuk’s positively giddy for his reaction.

“Hey, did you—” Woobin pauses as expected, gaping down at Jongsuk’s doubled over form.

Jongsuk hides his wide grin and pastes on an innocent look on his face before he looks over his shoulder. “No, I haven’t had dinner if that’s what you’re asking. I’m almost done here so we can do that after if you want to.”

Woobin sputters, eyes blinking rapidly. “Is it my birthday already? Did I forget our anniversary?”

Jongsuk straightens up a bit, sneakily sticking his chest out underneath the frilly collar. “Six months away, and…who even knows when that is.”

Woobin drops his phone and keys on the coffee table, his smile crooked. “So you’re saying you’re wearing a French maid costume and cleaning just because you want to?”

“Yes,” Jongsuk answers immediately.

Woobin scoffs, which quickly turn into a whimper when Jongsuk bends over and his ruffled skirt sticks up to reveal pale thighs not covered by the sheer stockings and a hint of silk underneath.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

Jongsuk laughs and lets up a little, smoothing his petticoat down. “Oh, I don’t want that. Trust me.”

Woobin clears his throat and they both glance down, sight drawn straight to the bulge in Woobin’s jeans. “Uh…”

Jongsuk tries not to snicker, face schooled into cool indifference that he knows would push all the necessary buttons. “Would you like for me to take care of that, too?”

“No,” Woobin flinches, escaping his boyfriend’s wandering hands. “You’re evil, you know that?”

Jongsuk gives in and laughs, getting up on his feet. “I know,” he winks, reaching for Woobin’s belt again. “C’mon, you know you want to.”

Woobin grins in return, taking a step back. “No,” he says calmly, grabbing Jongsuk’s arms and yanking him into place. “I’d like to bend you over this counter and fuck you into next week, though.”

At the sound of Jongsuk’s sharp intake of breath, Woobin presses himself against his boyfriend’s back. When Jongsuk breaks character and starts chuckling, he groans.

“Sucker.”

“You’re such a cocktease, Lee Jongsuk.”

“I know,” Jongsuk coos, turning around to plant a brief, wet kiss on the angle of Woobin’s jaw semi-apologetically.

Woobin would like to spend more time with that mouth, to make love to those blood red lips, to feel them wrapped around his length. But everything else can wait when they’re both so desperate for each other like this.

Jongsuk arches his back obediently, making a pleased noise when Woobin trails his hands up the back of his thighs. Woobin laughs when he parts his legs, groaning at the feel of his loosened entrance.

“Were you waiting for me all prepped and opened like this?” he whisper, licking the rim of Jongsuk’s ear.

Jongsuk reaches back to grope Woobin’s abs underneath his sweater. “Well, I didn’t think I could wait once you’re home.”

Woobin hums, moving back a bit to push down his jeans. “So hot for my dick, aren’t you?”

Jongsuk answers with a wriggle of his hips, skirt hiked up so far the curve of his ass is cradling Woobin’s cock. He lets Woobin nudge the silk panties aside, trembling at the promise of slow slide and tight fullness. Woobin doesn’t waste time, not even giving him the time to adjust to the burn before screwing hard and fast. Jongsuk can’t do anything but hold on – white knuckling the counter’s edge and Woobin’s hip.

“This what you want?”

Jongsuk whimpers and rocks back, hungry for more. “Yeah, come on. Just like that. Need you – need you to—”

Woobin moans, thrusting higher and deeper, not caring that Jongsuk would probably bruise from the marble counter. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you like this?”

“Oh god, yes, please.”

He really lets loose after that, reaching around to make sure Jongsuk comes first, to feel that sweet squeeze all around him. The angle isn’t quite right, though, so Woobin lifts Jongsuk’s stockinged leg and cradles it close to him as he keeps screwing his boyfriend. There’s absolutely no finesse in it, only uneven jerks and a tight grip, but Jongsuk’s so primed for it he comes immediately, quaking underneath Woobin’s bulk. Woobin loves the noises he makes the most, like the orgasm pulled from him is the only thing keeping him alive. He loves that he’s the one giving it to Jongsuk. It takes him just three more thrusts to follow suit, mouthing kisses across the breadth of Jongsuk’s shoulders.

They’re breathless and sticky with sweat when it’s over, but neither wants to let the other go, riding the high as long as possible. Woobin finally pulls out to get rid of the condom, and Jongsuk shifts to straighten up, slipping out of the crumpled panties.

“Aw, man,” he groans, wrinkling his nose. “I just wiped this counter down.”

Woobin laughs, kissing his pursed lips. “You’ll just have to do it again, then. Might be hot, watching you clean in this.”

Jongsuk slaps Woobin’s hand away from his skirt and frowns. “Get off. I’m tired and sleepy and you weren’t exactly gentle.”

Woobin scoffs. “Hey, as I recall, you were begging me for anything but gentle.”

“Shut up.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Woobin grins, stealing a kiss on the cheek. “You go take a shower and get comfortable. I’ll take care of the mess and have dinner ready.”

Jongsuk pouts some more, for show, until Woobin decides to goose him. He yelps and jumps away, rubbing his (pleasantly) sore ass. He’s willing to bet money that Woobin has a revenge plan in the works. He won’t be the least bit surprised if he walks into the kitchen later to find his boyfriend cooking in nothing but an apron. He’s absolutely fine with that. It’s just how things work between them.