Work Text:
Hanbin hates it when Hao leaves for work.
It isn’t just dislike. It’s a deep, irrational ache in his chest. Every time Hao says goodbye, it feels like a part of him goes missing, like some invisible thread is stretched across the city and tugging at him all day. He calls it yearning, though that word doesn’t really capture it. Missing Hao is the most painful thing he’s ever had to endure, plain and simple.
He’s always known that what he feels for Hao isn’t exactly normal. Hanbin’s dated before—he’s had flings, relationships, the usual—but none of them made him feel this way. It sounds cliche, but it’s the truth. With Hao, there’s this constant pull. He wants to be near him all the time. To touch him, to take care of him, to be someone Hao can rely on. Maybe that should embarrass him, but it doesn’t, because Hao mirrors his feelings back at him.
Hao clings to him every morning when Hanbin drives him to work, holding on until the last possible moment. And when they can’t be together, he still calls. Sometimes, Hao stays on the line until Hanbin’s back home, pretending to be on a long bathroom break just to hear his voice.
Hanbin spoke to him barely an hour ago. Hao had spent all eighteen minutes of the call complaining about quitting, his voice soft and dramatic in the cutest way. Hanbin told him, “I can start working instead,” but Hao refused. Hanbin knew he didn’t want Hanbin to carry both the housework and a job. They had talked through it before building this arrangement.
Hao has dreams, big ones. He’s the head manager of JL Food Chain now, something he fought his way up to, and he isn’t stopping there. Hanbin’s dream, on the other hand, is simpler—make sure Hao’s okay. Support him. Love him.
His friends had laughed when he quit his job to become a stay-at-home boyfriend. They said it was a honeymoon phase, that it wouldn’t last. But it’s been four years, and Hanbin still wakes up every morning thinking this is exactly where he wants to be.
There are perks, too. Seeing Hao’s smile when he comes home to a clean apartment and a warm meal is its own kind of reward. They make it work. And sometimes, Hao gives him treats—little surprises Hanbin still blushes to think about.
He smiles to himself as he reheats leftover pizza from their movie night, remembering last week’s treat. Hao always finds new ways to surprise him, and Hanbin’s been dying to ask when the next one will be. But he can’t. It’s their little secret.
The click of the keycard startles him. Hanbin gasps, pizza forgotten as he turns toward the door. Is today the day? Speak of the devil. Hao must have found a way to sneak home early again.
Just the simple click mixed with approaching footsteps has his cock springing to life in anticipation. Hanbin sometimes feels like a house puppy trained to welcome its master. Hao would probably agree. Even now, he tries to look casual, but his ears perk and his hands fumble on the microwave handle.
“Hanbin-ah.”
The familiar voice comes from behind him, and in his haste to turn around, a tray on the counter rattles and tumbles to the floor with a loud clatter. “Shit…” Hanbin mutters, cheeks blazing red as he bends down to grab it.
“Aw, look at you.” Hao’s voice drifts closer, thick with amusement. “Already so desperate for hubby’s cock you can’t even hold a tray? Can’t even be a proper housewife.”
Hanbin whimpers, the words going straight to his dick as he hurries to his feet, pressing himself against the counter to hide his growing erection, burning with shame.
“Gege, you’re home early today.”
Those words used to carry surprise months ago. Now they’re laced with fondness and embarrassment.
The older man’s arm snakes around his waist almost immediately, and Hanbin can’t help the small shiver that runs through him. He shakes his head, but Hao is already pulling him away to see what he’s hiding. Hanbin knows it’s over at that point, so he lets Hao’s hand brush his cock through his shorts.
Hao kisses the side of his neck, then drags his teeth along his collarbone. Hanbin gasps, stumbling in the older man’s hold, trembling.
“You’ve been waiting for me, haven’t you? Huh? Waiting, all ready…” Hao murmurs, his hand still wrapped around Hanbin and jerking him off.
Hanbin fumbles for the microwave, switching it off before turning back into Hao’s embrace.
“Yes, gege…” he chokes out, voice shaky, eyes watering as he meets Hao’s gaze. “I waited for you.”
Hao’s eyes aren’t tired today. They’re dark, intense, predatory, focused on him. A smirk replaces his usual pout, and a shiver crawls down Hanbin’s spine. The moles on Hao’s face look a little uneven, but before he can dwell on it, Hao’s mouth is back on his skin, kissing down his neck and biting at his collarbone.
He tugs Hanbin closer, grabbing his cock again. “Good. My pathetic little wife, doing nothing all day after I leave for work, just waiting for me to come back.” The raspy voice Hao uses when he’s horny slips out, and it goes straight to Hanbin’s cock. “Are you this desperate every day?”
Hanbin whimpers when Hao’s teeth graze the skin over his tattoo. It hurts, but it feels like a reward when Hao finally bites down. Hanbin loves the marks he leaves, though Hao rarely puts them anywhere visible during this time. It feels like a secret ritual, the way Hao hides it, just like the way he tells Hanbin he can’t mention the treats outside of when it happens.
“Answer me!” Hao’s voice snaps him back into the moment, and Hanbin has to scramble to remember what the question even was.
“I missed gege so much,” he manages. Hao finally pulls away from his neck just as it starts to feel good, leaving Hanbin’s eyes glazed as he watches him move. Hanbin presses a hand to the spot, but there’s no mark. Hao didn’t bite long enough to leave one.
Hao starts unbuckling his jeans, and Hanbin takes it as his cue to tug off his shorts too. Hao has to go back to work soon. They can’t waste time.
“Hubby will give you what you want,” Hao says, tossing his jeans onto the counter. “Turn around. Hands on the counter.”
The command makes Hanbin move immediately. He turns, spreads his legs, and lifts his shirt to bare his ass. He’s already prepped. He always preps every morning in the shower, just in case. Sometimes he ends up being the one fucking the older man, but he loves being ready. Anything gege wants, gege gets.
Hao’s fingers are cold when they grab his waist, adjusting him until he’s in the right position. He bends him down until Hanbin’s forehead rests against the counter, just how he likes it. Before Hanbin can get used to the chill of the surface, Hao drops to his knees, lips brushing the insides of his thighs. He doesn’t waste any time, as usual. Hanbin loves how fast he often goes, because his brain doesn’t get the chance to overthink anything. All he can do is surrender to the feeling of Hao on him.
The kisses travel upward, soft but sharp, and Hanbin can’t stop the moan that slips out. “Ah, gege,” he murmurs, the sound already punched out of him.
It already feels too good, and Hao hasn’t even done much yet. He loves to tease even when he’s on a time crunch, but Hanbin hopes he won’t take too long today.
“Hmm, let’s see what wife has for me today…” Hao murmurs, spreading his cheeks apart. Hanbin breathes hard against the counter, words failing him when Hao’s fingers slide in, three at once. He reaches out for something to hold onto, just to ground himself, but when his hand hits a plate, Hao presses in deeper, making him knock it off the counter. It shatters on the floor.
Hao’s laugh fills the room almost immediately, and embarrassment curls low in Hanbin’s stomach. He hides his face against the counter. “Can’t even handle just three,” Hao tuts, pushing in deeper.
Hanbin lets out a long, broken moan, his head already spinning. He has to fight the urge to completely give in so early.
“You’ll clean this up after anyway.”
“Yes, I will,” Hanbin murmurs, just to make him stop talking about it. “Gege,” he whimpers, tears clinging to his lashes as Hao speeds his fingers up, thrusting in and out. “Please, slow…” Hanbin tries to say, but the words snap into a cry. Fuck. It’s too much. The older man ignores him and goes even faster, each push of his fingers pulling broken sounds out of him. “Ah, right there.” When Hao rubs against his prostate, it feels like Hanbin is about to cum on the spot, but right at the peak, Hao pulls back. Hanbin whines.
Hao straightens. “Your hole wants more than just my fingers, baby.”
The nickname makes Hanbin’s head spin. This is still his boyfriend of over five years, but this version of Hao doesn’t use nicknames. He usually calls him a slut or a good for nothing housewife, and the softness in his tone throws Hanbin off balance. The degrading names are what Hanbin loves most about the treats. Hao always knows how to dig into his biggest wants.
Hanbin wiggles his ass a little, trying to hurry him when he finally feels Hao press the head of his cock against his rim. It slips away at the last second. Hao lets out a frustrated sound at Hanbin’s bratty move, and Hanbin yelps when a light slap lands on his ass.
As expected.
The sound is sharp in the small apartment, and pleasure rushes straight to Hanbin’s head. He already wants another one, but more than that, he wants Hao’s cock. He never really asks for anything with this version of his boyfriend. He just takes what he’s given. The first time he asked, Hao taught him a lesson by denying him his release, leaving him empty and aching, telling him not to touch himself until he came home. Hanbin obeyed, hollowed out by the time Hao finally returned. He practically pounced on him the moment he stepped through the door, like a bunny in heat, and Hao had looked pleasantly surprised.
Now Hao’s voice carries a mean edge when he says, “Behave and take hubby’s cock, hmm?”
The tone alone pulls a high, needy sound from Hanbin, everything he’s feeling all at once. He wants it. “Yes, gege,” he manages, his voice breaking halfway through.
“Good girl,” Hao says, satisfied. Even being called a girl goes straight to Hanbin’s cock, making him light-headed. “You’re hubby’s good slut.”
Hanbin wants to be good for him.
He goes limp against the counter, body pliant, ready to be used. When Hao finally pushes in, Hanbin’s breath shatters into another wave of tears. It’s always too much at first. Hao feels impossibly big when he takes him from behind, the stretch burning before it melts into pleasure. Hao never misses. He always hits Hanbin’s sweet spot with his cock, driving into it again and again until Hanbin sees stars.
Hanbin has always liked it slow. The lazy rhythm of Hao’s body against his after work, the soft kisses, the warmth of Hao’s breath on his skin as he slides in inch by inch, holding eye contact the entire time. Never any other position. Those moments make him feel cherished. But lately, he’s realizing the hurried, hungry way Hao takes him when he comes home mid shift feels even better.
His hands clutch the cold edge of the sink, knuckles white, as he pushes past a damp dish sponge. Hao drives into him again and again, each thrust stripping more of him away. The sound of skin and his own incoherent noises fills the kitchen, and he keeps babbling nonsense, unable to stop. He can’t help clenching around him, just to keep the older man inside him.
“Oh, stop squeezing, wife,” Hao groans, voice strained. “You’re so desperate for it you want hubby deeper, right?”
The words cut through Hanbin’s haze, but all he can manage is, “Gege, more,” his moan slurred and needy.
Hao chuckles behind him, his pace still merciless but not quite enough. Hanbin starts rocking his hips back instinctively, chasing the feeling, his ass slapping loudly against Hao’s hips each time. Hao’s hands tighten around his waist, fingers digging in as he helps Hanbin fuck himself on his cock.
“I don’t even need to do much,” Hao laughs, breathless. “Wife does all the work for me. You love this. Good cocksluts love cock the most. You should worship me for fulfilling all your wishes, you know.”
Hanbin will. He already does, in his own way, letting everything else fall away the moment Hao comes home. And Hao’s cock satisfies him every time, fills every want he has.
Gradually, Hao’s words sink back in. “That’s why you stay home all day waiting for it, right?” Hao asks, snapping his hips sharply to drive the point home.
It takes Hanbin a few seconds to even process it. He’s drooling onto the counter, mind completely gone. Then another loud slap lands on his ass, pain blooming into pleasure and dragging him back to the present. He thinks he’s begging for another, but he must not say it out loud, because Hao repeats himself. “Right?” His voice is rougher now. “You missed me so much you couldn’t stop thinking about my cock splitting you open, right?”
Hanbin knows Hao was here just last night. But when Hao comes home early, he likes to pretend he’s been gone for weeks. Hanbin loves the illusion, the way it stretches the need until it feels real. So he plays along, voice trembling as he moans, “Yes, I wish you’d come every day!”
Hao scoffs, annoyance edging his tone. “I wish I could steal you and take you with me too.” Hanbin isn’t sure what that means, but he loves being treated like something owned, so he whines louder. “And what do you do when I’m not here?” Hao teases.
“I miss you,” Hanbin admits, honest and helpless.
The answer isn’t good enough for Hao. He pinches Hanbin’s waist hard, pain tearing a groan out of him. “Tell me, honestly,” he rasps. “Do you finger yourself open thinking of me? Hoping I’ll come home and fuck your little loose hole?”
Hao goes wild after that, erratic, fucking him as fast as he can, spearing him hard on his cock. Hanbin doesn’t understand what changed. Hao sounds angry and turned on all at once, and confusion flickers through the haze. Did he say something wrong?
“Gege,” Hanbin moans, desperate to soothe whatever this is.
It doesn’t help. “Tell me, wife. Tell me the truth. You think about me all day, right? Even when he’s with you? Only me.” The last words dissolve into moans, and Hanbin isn’t sure he heard them right, so he lets them go.
He answers instead. “I miss you so much when you’re not here, gege. I cry sometimes because I just want you to come home to me,” he murmurs, the words spilling out despite the brutal pace. He needs Hao to hear him, so he raises his voice over the rough sounds coming from behind him. “I also…” he trails off, shy, trying to hide it behind a moan.
Hao catches it anyway, hands clamping down on his hips. “You also do what?”
Hanbin hesitates, then blurts it out in one breath. “I finger myself while hoping you’ll come fuck me.”
Hao lets out a pleased chuckle. “I’ll fuck you now then,” he says, picking up speed again. His cock drives deep, hitting everything inside Hanbin. He feels so full it almost makes him dizzy. Hanbin can tell when Hao stops pretending to take care of him and starts chasing his own release, and he loves that too. He loves Hao’s selfish side. Loves being used, wanted and filled. He would be his glorified sex toy every day if it meant giving Hao relief.
“But…” Hao slows, bending over him, groaning into his ear. “Why do you spend your day thinking of me? Does he not satisfy you enough? I was just here last week and you already want it again?”
Hanbin is pressed flat against the counter, breath wrecked, voice hoarse as he cries, “No, you do. You do.”
He means it. He loves both sides of Hao, the gentle one and the rough one. They fill different parts of him, and sometimes he thinks he must be the luckiest man alive to have them both.
“Gonna ruin you for him,” Hao mutters.
Before Hanbin can respond, Hao hauls him upright against his chest. The sudden movement knocks the air out of him. He feels light, helpless, as Hao starts thrusting again. Hanbin drops his head against Hao’s shoulder, whimpering at how good it feels.
Maybe he really is what Hao calls him. A cockslut. Because he loves this too much, the helpless pleasure, being fucked stupid by him.
When Hao’s hand presses to Hanbin’s stomach, he can feel himself moving inside him, the outline clear beneath Hao’s palm. Hao pushes down, adding pressure, and Hanbin’s whole body locks up. The world narrows to a single point of unbearable pleasure, and then he’s crying out, his cock spilling a thick load across the counter as his vision whites out.
“Oh.” Hao smirks, eyes locked on Hanbin’s face. Even with his own gaze half lidded, he still catches Hanbin’s, studying the unfocused look there. “You really are a slut. He needs to see you like this,” Hao mutters before shoving Hanbin back onto the counter.
The cool surface hits his skin and pulls a soft sound from his throat. Then Hao is moving again, thrusting back in with the same urgency as before.
Hanbin’s body flinches at the first push, overstimulated, but the need doesn’t disappear. If anything, it gets worse. His hips move on their own, chasing each thrust, trying to take more of Hao even through the sting. Every sound that slips from his mouth is a plea. Then Hao finally spills inside him, a string of curses tumbling out that he’d never say otherwise.
“Fuck. Wife,” Hao pants between heavy breaths. He looks down, reaching for Hanbin’s face and turning him just to see him properly. Hanbin doesn’t realize he’s crying until then. He sniffles, eyes glassy as he looks up at him.
“Gege,” he whines. It felt so fucking good. Being fucked while overstimulated has always been his favorite. He loves knowing how far he can push himself before he breaks.
Hao’s mouth twitches like he wants to coo, but it turns into a quiet giggle instead. “You really cry a lot,” he says, shaking his head as he rubs at Hanbin’s red, tear streaked cheeks. “How are you supposed to survive in the real world when you cry this much?” he murmurs, and that just makes Hanbin cry harder, embarrassment burning through him. His body feels weak, barely holding itself together, like he might slide to the floor if he lets go.
“Maybe it’s better you’re locked up in here as nothing but a stupid wife,” Hao tuts, tapping Hanbin’s cheeks lightly. Hanbin’s lips tug into a small pout. “Someone like you definitely can’t keep a job. Anyway, see you next time.”
Hanbin grabs him immediately, pulling him into a hug. He doesn’t want him to leave, doesn’t want to be alone again. “Can’t you stay?” he murmurs.
Hao pushes him away, rougher this time. “Do what you do best, okay. Wait. Think of it as me training you.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. His cheeks don’t even lift before he winks and leaves.
Hanbin leans against the counter, clenching around nothing, the emptiness sharp after being so full. His body feels loose, spent, ruined in the best way. When he finally drags himself to a chair, his breathing slowly evens out. For a long few minutes, he just sits there, replaying everything, caught between exhaustion and the deep, quiet bliss that always settles in after being fucked like that.
****
It’s late in the evening when Hao finally comes back home.
Hanbin ends up fucking himself with a dildo again because he can’t stop thinking about what happened in the morning. The experience was too good. Even after he’s showered and cleaned the kitchen counter, the memory still makes him hard all over again.
When he hears the click of the keypad, his cock springs up instantly. He gets excited, but by the time he reaches the door, that energy fades. The man who steps inside isn’t the same one who ruined him earlier—this Hao looks tired, his tie crooked, his energy completely different. Hanbin’s urge to take care of him fights with the need in his body, and he hates that the horny feeling wins first.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly, taking Hao’s bag before it can slide off his shoulder.
Hao hums and leans against him, breathing deeply. Hanbin fumbles with his jacket and shoes, struggling because Hao won’t really let go. When he finally manages to pull him toward their bedroom, it’s obvious how drained he is. Hanbin can read him too easily, he always can. He feels guilty suddenly, knowing Hao gave him the best morning and now he clearly didn’t have a nice day.
“Hanbin-ah.” Hao’s voice is small and pouty, as he holds out his arms.
Hanbin smiles at the sight. “One second, let me finish,” he says, stripping him down piece by piece until Hao’s completely naked. His plan is simple—shower, rest, then food. But Hao doesn’t seem to want that. As soon as Hanbin straightens up, Hao pulls him down into his arms, refusing to let go.
“Did something happen today?” Hanbin asks, voice soft, wanting to ease the weight off him somehow.
“Kinda,” Hao murmurs, yawning halfway through. “I’ll tell you later, baobei.”
Hanbin leans back a little to look at him. Hao gives a small smile and tilts his head cutely. Hanbin thinks they kind of look different. Maybe it’s the light, or maybe something else. His moles looked darker this morning. His eyes are shining so bright, filled with the same stars Hanbin fell in love with the day they met for the first time at that coffee shop, after months of talking online.
His face is somehow softer now. Hanbin isn’t sure if he’s imagining it, or hallucinating all the things he can see so clearly in his face. The love, the fondness, the proof of all the years they’ve spent together. This is the Hao who knows him inside and out.
All Hanbin knows is that he loves this warm feeling, so he just smiles, quietly mapping Hao’s moles like constellations.
“What are you thinking?” Hao asks suddenly, pulling him down for a kiss.
Hanbin giggles into it, shaking the thought off, then starts pressing kisses all over Hao’s face—his apple cheeks, his forehead, his nose—the way he knows Hao loves.
“I love you,” Hanbin says quietly, choosing not to answer. He doesn’t trust himself not to mention their secret.
Hao smiles and kisses him again. “I love you the most.”
Hanbin smiles too, warmth flooding his chest and a sudden burst of emotions taking over him. He always gets like this—overwhelmed by how much he loves him and how lucky he feels. He wishes he could just take away all of Hao’s stress and carry it himself if he could.
“You should go shower now,” Hanbin says, but Hao shakes his head immediately.
“Let’s just lie down and watch TikTok,” he insists, voice half-asleep already.
Hanbin squints at him. “A massage then?” he tries, hoping to compromise. He knows how stiff Hao’s shoulders get after long days.
Hao looks like he’s considering it, then just laughs, raising an eyebrow before nodding.
Hanbin gets into position.
And by position, he means literally sitting on top of Hao’s dick as he massages his shoulders. Hao’s eyes are closed, but the way he ruts up against Hanbin and lets out tiny moans every now and then makes it obvious he’s getting excited. Hanbin is too, but he needs to finish the massage first.
He shakes off the distracting lewd thoughts creeping in and starts rubbing the older’s shoulder blades gently. Hao lets out a faint groan, already moving his hard cock against Hanbin’s body.
“Hanbin-ah,” Hao whimpers, the sound needy.
Hanbin chuckles softly. “I’ll take care of you when I’m done,” he says, trying to sound composed even though his own body is heating up.
Maybe he rushes the massage a little after that. His hands move faster, kneading and pressing into Hao’s muscles, sliding up to pinch at his nape and occasionally teasing his nipples just to hear him moan. He’s not even sure how long he spends doing it, but eventually his own hips start moving, grinding down on Hao’s length in slow circles. His hands are sore now, which feels like a good enough reason to stop.
“I need you, baobei,” Hao whispers, eyes still closed when Hanbin pauses.
Hanbin doesn’t hesitate. He pulls off his shorts quickly, shifting without really lifting himself off Hao. In one smooth motion, he sinks down onto him, taking him in easily with no resistance.
Hao’s eyes snap open immediately, locking onto Hanbin’s. “You’re so loose,” he murmurs, voice rough.
Well, he did fuck him that morning, and Hanbin’s always ready for him anyway. Hanbin just nods, rolling his hips in slow, steady circles that make Hao’s breath itch.
“Does it feel good?” Hanbin asks, even though Hao’s groans already tell him the answer. He wants to hear it anyway, wants the reassurance that he’s doing good for him.
Hao lays there pliant beneath him, barely lifting his hips, so different from how he’d been earlier. The contrast makes Hanbin feel strange. He feels like he’s the one in control now, so he moves faster, riding him with more purpose.
“Hanbin, faster—faster—it feels good,” Hao cries out, and Hanbin obeys, bouncing in his lap. He reaches down, lacing their fingers together, wanting to make him feel everything. He doesn’t even think about his own release, he just wants Hao to cum first.
He clenches down around Hao’s cock, squeezing him tight, wanting to milk him dry. Hao looks up at him with glassy eyes before turning his face away, biting into the sheets, his body shaking. No doubt he’s going to cum soon.
“Baby,” Hao moans, voice breaking as he finally bursts inside him. Hanbin feels it spill out, so warm, and the sensation alone pulls him over the edge too. His cock let out small spurts this time, weak from his earlier orgasms.
When it’s over, he looks down at Hao’s flushed face, his chest still heaving, and leans in to press a kiss to his plump lips.
“Thank you, Hanbinnie,” Hao murmurs against his mouth.
Hanbin smiles, heart feeling full. “Anything for you, gege.”
He knows he should probably clean the older up, but Hao is holding him so tight now, and Hanbin doesn’t mind cockwarming him anyway. It’s always nice to sleep with Hao still inside him, and it’s been so long since they last did this. So he just shifts a little, turning to the side until they find a comfortable position to sleep.
****
Hanbin always wakes up first. He usually wakes Hao too, even though the older hates getting up early. When he checks the time, it’s only 5:37 a.m., so he still has another hour before he really needs to move. He decides to stay like this, just listening to Hao’s heavy, even breathing behind him.
He wants to look at Hao’s face, but that would mean slipping off his cock, and he doesn’t want to lose the warmth. He keeps shifting, trying to find a better angle, until he ends up straddling Hao instead. The older hums quietly at the new weight but doesn’t open his eyes. As expected.
“So cute,” Hanbin whispers, brushing Hao’s fringe away from his forehead. He gasps when he feels Hao hardening again inside him.
He looks down at his boyfriend’s face properly this time and catches a faint smile there. Hanbin shakes his head, fond and a little flustered. He’s always been a morning sex type, but Hao hates waking up early. Still, over the years, Hao lets Hanbin do what he wants in the mornings—to ride him or use his hole. He tells Hanbin to take what he needs while he sleeps.
Just thinking about how he won’t see Hao again until the evening makes Hanbin pout. Unless he sneaks by the house from work, this is all he gets until then. That thought alone has him reaching for the lube on the bedside table.
He hurriedly frees himself, feeling like he’s wasting precious time even now. He coats Hao’s cock with slick fingers, then lowers himself onto it again. He rolls his hips slowly, trying to make the most of every second. His head falls back at the familiar stretch and fullness.
It feels so good.
Hao calls him insatiable sometimes, and Hanbin thinks he’s probably right. All he ever wants is to be close to Hao, to feel him, to be with him in every way possible. That need makes him move slower, dragging Hao’s length through his walls, letting him sleep a little longer while Hanbin chases his own quiet pleasure.
His own dick stands flushed and red, pressing against Hao’s stomach, begging for relief.
“Ah, gege,” Hanbin moans softly before covering his mouth with his hand. He tries to stay quiet, but the pleasure is overwhelming, curling deep in his belly until his eyes sting.
It’s too good.
Tears spill from the corner of his eyes, movements growing faster, eager to reach his peak. Within moments, he’s spilling all over Hao’s stomach, panting hard, tears still clinging to the corners of his eyes.
Hao doesn’t even move once, his snores only get louder.
Hanbin laughs quietly, out of breath, then finally lifts himself off Hao’s cock. He plans to wash him up now. He’ll deal with cleaning himself later.
“Hanbinnie,” Hao groans at the movement, clearly uncomfortable. Hanbin knows it must be because of his erection. He didn’t even get to cum yet.
“I got you,” Hanbin whispers. He lies flat on the bed and inches his mouth closer to Hao’s member, focused completely on getting him to cum. He hollows his cheeks and licks along the shaft, eyes flicking to the alarm clock on the nightstand every few seconds. He must’ve spent a lot of time riding him earlier, and now he needs to hurry so Hao can still get ready for work.
Hanbin moves faster, eager to take him all the way down until his nose brushes against the soft hair at the base. He makes a mental note that Hao needs a shave soon too.
A few moments later, he feels the burst of fluid filling his chubby cheeks. Satisfied, he stays still until Hao finishes, then pulls back and swallows everything before carrying the half-asleep man to the bathroom.
Washing Hao is always a small challenge—he’s practically limp, mumbling nonsense—but Hanbin takes his time anyway. When they’re done, he dries Hao’s hair back in the room, the older man’s head resting on his lap, letting himself be handled completely. Hanbin smiles at the quiet trust in that gesture. Hao letting himself be this soft and vulnerable around him always makes him feel special. It’s strange. They are in a long term relationship, but he still craves this little reassurance.
By the time Hanbin finishes dressing him up, Hao finally yawns and opens his eyes at the breakfast table. Hanbin is in the kitchen, one eye on the rice cooker while reheating leftover soup from yesterday.
When he turns around, Hao’s watching him, half-lidded and lazy. “I feel tired,” he murmurs.
“Gege, you’re awake,” Hanbin says, smiling as he serves the soup into a bowl and sets it in front of him. “Good morning, sweetie.” He reaches over to ruffle Hao’s hair—the same hair he’d just spent time fixing—but he doesn’t really care. Hao just giggles softly.
Then the rice cooker beeps loudly, and Hanbin rushes to grab the rice.
“Did you ride me this morning, or did I imagine it?” Hao asks casually between bites.
Hanbin bites down on his lips, cheeks burning. “I was horny,” he admits quietly.
Hao shakes his head with a laugh. “You’re so insatiable.”
Hanbin just feeds him another spoonful of rice to shut him up before another round of teasing.
He tells Hao he hasn’t had time to clean up yet, so they agree he’ll order a taxi instead of driving. Somehow, that turns into them making out on the couch for way too long—long enough that Hao nearly ends up late because Hanbin couldn’t stop himself from sucking on his nipples. Hao sits there and lets him until Hanbin’s phone rings. The taxi is here.
“I’ll see you later, baby!” Hao yells as he gets into the car, waving from the window.
Hanbin waves back, smiling until the car disappears down the street. He hopes later is soon. He already misses him.
****
Hanbin is bored. He’s always bored, of course, but especially today. It’s always like this the day after one of Hao’s treats, when he spends all day hoping Hao will come home early from work to fuck him again.
It sucks that there’s no real schedule to it. Sometimes it’s the next day. Sometimes it takes a week, or even two. Hanbin can’t help but hope it happens today.
To stop himself from thinking about it, he decides to tend to the flowers in their garden instead. But every few minutes, his eyes flick toward the door, waiting for the sound of the keycard. The poor plants don’t have his attention at all.
When the door finally dings, Hanbin thinks he must be imagining it, until Hao is actually standing there in their living room, looking around. Hanbin nearly trips over himself rushing to greet him.
“Gege!” he half-yells. “You came home early!”
His excitement is too much to contain and he’s sure he looks ridiculous, bouncing on his toes like a puppy with a wagging tail.
The Hao in front of him has the familiar smirk from yesterday, energy completely renewed from the morning, as he strides toward him.
“Did my favorite cockslut miss me that much?” Hao teases.
Hanbin nods eagerly, and Hao takes his hand, pulling him toward the couch. Hanbin follows without hesitation.
Still, something about Hao’s back catches his eye. It looks… different. The shape of his shoulders, maybe. Or the way his suit wrinkles when he moves. Hanbin’s sure he ironed it this morning, but now it looks so rumpled. Hao is usually careful with his suits.
“You’re going to fuck hubby today,” Hao says, snapping him out of his thoughts.
Hanbin perks up immediately, excitement pushing away the odd unease in his chest.
Then Hao releases his hand and starts to take off his pants, while Hanbin does the same, his cock already hard in his sweatpants, ready and eager.
Hao settles on the couch, and Hanbin hesitates for a second. His boyfriend usually hates getting the couch dirty with… anything. But he tells himself he’ll clean it later. It feels like they’re finishing what they started that morning, and that thought alone buries all his hesitations.
He positions his dick carefully, about to press in, when he realizes something. Hao didn’t prep before leaving for work this morning. He literally bathed the man.
“I’ll get lube,” Hanbin says, already moving to walk towards their bedroom, but Hao grabs his wrist, shaking his head.
“It’s fine,” Hao says, voice low and sure. “I already fingered myself for wifey’s thick cock.”
Hanbin blinks at him, eyes wide. “When did you even—?” he starts to ask.
At work? In the office bathroom? That’s… crazy. But he nods anyway. The question fades away as he looks down at Hao’s ass, the only thing that matters right now.
“Go on,” Hao encourages.
True to his words, Hanbin meets little to no resistance as he presses his cockhead against the older man’s pink hole. It welcomes him easily, and Hao lets out a low moan from where he’s sprawled on the couch.
“Fuck, you’re so big,” Hao breathes, voice trembling, before he pushes his hips back until Hanbin bottoms out completely. “Move, wife,” the older urges almost immediately, not waiting for his usual moment to adjust.
“Are you sure?” Hanbin asks, voice soft with worry. But Hao is already rolling his hips back himself, and that’s all the permission Hanbin needs. He grips Hao’s waist, meeting him halfway with hurried, uneven thrusts.
His other hand slides up to Hao’s shoulder, fingers digging in as he tries to find a steady rhythm. The older man isn’t quiet as usual—each push drives a breathy sound out of him, music to Hanbin’s ears. Hanbin feels his control slipping, every drag through Hao’s walls makes him want to just fuck him with reckless abandon. His fingers slip on Hao’s damp skin, and he grits his teeth, trying to keep focus. Hao should come first.
Then, faintly, through the haze, he hears something that sounds like a keypad being punched in. The sound barely registers over the rhythm of his hips against Hao’s ass. He doesn’t think much of it. Only two people know that code, and both of them are here. Right?
Hanbin keeps moving, slow but deep, every thrust deliberate, wanting to satisfy Hao the way he knows best. Then suddenly, there’s a loud thud.
“Hanbin!”
A voice, sharp and disbelieving, cuts through the air.
His body freezes mid-thrust. That voice—he knows it. But Hao is here, under him. So who—
He turns toward the sound, confusion flooding his chest, and his heart stops. Another Hao stands at the door, eyes wide, face twisted in shock, betrayal and fury.
The Hao beneath him turns too, lips curling into a cruel smile. “Haneul!” the Hao at the door yells, looking at the man underneath him.
“Hello, Hao,” Hao—Haneul? says, voice dripping with mockery.
****
Hao hates being an identical twin.
It’s not the childish kind of hate that comes from sharing toys or blowing out the same birthday candles. Even though he has to do those things with his devilish brother, he watches Haneul take it all for himself—his favorite toy, pushing Hao away before he even gets to blow out the candles.
The hate runs deeper than that. Because Haneul doesn’t just steal those small things. He takes everything that matters.
They never even liked the same things. Haneul liked racing cars and toy guns. Hao liked books and being left alone. Despite that, Haneul still disturbed him during quiet time and took his books, even though he didn’t want them. All he wanted was to own him. Haneul always wanted Hao’s life, and he would use any means to make it his own.
The first time Hao truly understood what that meant, he was ten. He came home bruised and bleeding, after some neighborhood kids decided to use him as a punching bag. He thought it was random until he walked into their shared room and saw Haneul laughing, tracing Hao’s moles onto his own face in the mirror. That was when he realized the truth, it wasn’t Hao they’d meant to hurt. It was Haneul.
But that didn’t matter. Because in the world’s eyes, they were the same person. At least, Haneul made sure of it.
After that, it only got worse. Every time Hao got sick and couldn’t go to his part-time jobs, Haneul showed up in his place, pretending to be him. He’d come back to find himself fired for something he never did. Every friendship, every connection Hao built, Haneul poisoned it—slipping into his life, saying things he never said, doing things he’d never do.
When Hao tried to explain, no one believed him. He sounded crazy. No one knew he had a twin because he’d stopped mentioning it years ago. He hated even saying the word. Twin.
Haneul became a stain on his existence, permanent and impossible to wash off. Hao wanted him gone.
He still remembers that night he had enough of it all. The pillow in his hands. Haneul’s face underneath it, thrashing. The sound of muffled gasps for air. Hao pressing harder, telling himself this was saving himself, not murder. But when Haneul’s fingers clawed at his arm, trembling, begging silently, the humanity in Hao came alive. At least, Haneul didn’t ruin him completely. He stopped, and then he ran away from home.
Life was supposed to get easier after that, but it didn't.
By some strange twist of fate, he got a scholarship to his dream university. A second chance to live the life his brother stole from him. He worked nights tutoring, barely slept, but he was free. Or he thought he was.
Then he started to see the devil around. The one in that cursed red hat. At first, it was just a glimpse in the crowd that he didn’t want to believe was his brother. Then he saw him somewhere else again and again. Haneul in the hallway. Haneul at the grocery store. Haneul in the corner of his eye every time he turned around.
He followed him to the mall, copying every shirt and every pair of shoes Hao bought. He followed him home, too. Hao could see him some mornings, curled up outside his basement apartment, waiting and watching.
Soon, Haneul’s presence seeped into everything. His food went missing, his clothes disappeared, his bed was warm when he came back from class and his diary entries were filled in as him, as Hao. He hadn’t done any of it, and there was only one person who would take everything—his identity—so shamelessly.
Haneul was everywhere, living inside Hao’s skin like he was entitled to it. A parasite that clung tighter the harder Hao tried to shake him off. A shadow that refused to die.
No matter how many locks Hao changed, no matter how many times he told his landlord not to let him in if he claimed he forgot his keys, it never stopped him. And no matter how many times Hao told himself it was over, every night before bed, he still felt it—the faintest breath on his neck, as if Haneul were right there, hovering over him, waiting to crawl into his body and kick him out.
After he developed insomnia, Hao started looking for solutions. He thought ignoring him would work. If Haneul did not get his attention, he would leave, right? He was wrong. Haneul was always there.
He tried everything he could—gave his students special questions to ask whenever Haneul showed up for tutoring, changed routes, changed phones, even apartments. He pretended not to notice or care. But Haneul only grew more feral. He found Hao’s boyfriends and slept with them just to wound him.
Hao spent the hardest years of his life back in China pretending nothing was wrong—avoiding love, avoiding places where another version of himself might lurk—afraid that one day Haneul would not stop at ruining him. One day Haneul would take his life to wear his face. They brawled in Hao’s final year, the day before graduation, and he fled that night. He didn’t come back for the ceremony. He took the first flight to Korea.
Thanks to his savings, he was able to start over. Hao got a job easily with his GPA, lived quietly, and hoped Haneul would not find him here. He avoided social media, avoided pictures, avoided any obvious tracks. But how was it still not enough?
Why is his cursed twin getting fucked by Hanbin? And since when does he speak Korean? God, did he know Hao was hiding here all along?
Hanbin is supposed to belong to him alone. Hanbin is the one protected thing he has guarded. He built his careful life around a person who trusts him enough to quit his job and stay home. He encouraged Hanbin to always stay in because of a simple and ugly truth—he is terrified Haneul will find him. Hanbin cannot be fucking him. Haneul cannot possibly have found Hanbin.
Rage pulls at his feet, filling his entire body. He storms into the kitchen, finds the knife block, and yanks a chef’s knife free with shaking hands. The metal is heavy and cold, but he does not think twice. In fact, he is not thinking at all. Screaming echoes somewhere in the house—maybe it’s him, but he can’t tell over the blood roaring in his ears. He moves on instinct, fury, and the old promise he once made to himself to never let Haneul take anything else.
“Gege, no,” Hanbin screams across the room, still naked. His voice fractures the chaos. Hao hears the plea and almost does not notice Haneul getting up. But he has to do this. He is doing it to protect them, he tells himself. He will end it here.
Haneul only smiles lazily, pulling his pants up as slowly as he can, like this is the moment he’s been waiting for. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small knife, a pocket blade that could kill Hao in one strike. He levels it at Hao’s face. “Hey, brother,” Haneul says in Mandarin, voice daring.
Hao is scared. His first instinct is to grab Hanbin and run, to take the person he loves away from the teeth of this monster. The thought disappears as quickly as it comes. He is tired of running. He knows that if this ends with him fleeing again, nothing changes. One of them must die for it to be over, and Hao will not be the one to die.
He still remembers Haneul teaching him how to fight with a pocket knife years ago after the bullying. Those skills should be enough today. The image of the night he pressed a pillow over Haneul’s face and almost became someone else flash across his mind. Maybe Haneul will succeed at making him a monster today, after all.
“How dare you fuck Hanbin?” he yells, voice cracking. He swings his knife and Haneul ducks with a laugh, flashing his pocket knife. “How could you touch him?”
Haneul’s eyes shine with no remorse. He steps forward, closing the distance and tries to swing, but before Hao can duck, Hanbin rushes between them, face wet as he tries to pull Hao back and wedge himself between the brothers. “Hyung, please! Stop!”
Haneul shoves him aside. His knife misses midair, thankfully. “Stay out of it, wife,” he sneers, switching back to Korean. Hao can’t get used to that language coming from him, but more importantly… did he just call his boyfriend wife?
Hao sees red. Wife? Haneul calls Hanbin wife? What the hell? And did he just push Hanbin?
Haneul reads him again, predictably cruel, and smirks like he has found Hao’s button. “I’ve been fucking your little housewife for seven months,” he says in Korean, like he wants Hanbin to hear too. An asshole, truly. “It was so cute to find out you’ve been hiding a slut at home all this time. Did you really think I wouldn’t know?” He laughs.
“Shut up!” Hao spits, ducking the glinting pocket blade. He swings the knife at Haneul again, determined to cut into him. He can see Hanbin struggling to his feet, hands trembling, trying to wedge himself between the brothers again.
“Guys, please stop,” the younger begs, voice breaking. Neither of them pays him any mind.
Haneul lunges and Hao meets him in the center of the room. Their blades clash in the middle and a hard, metallic sound rings through the room. Haneul swings his blade again. Hao tries to duck but misses, and the pocket blade grazes his forearm. Hao clutches his arm in pain.
“His hole is always so loose and wet for me. He said he wants me to come every day, you know,” Haneul continues, looking down at Hao. Hao hates it. “He said you don’t satisfy him enough. He loves when I call him a cockslut, and—”
Hao answers with violence, slicing his twin’s arm harshly, cutting deeper than he did. Blood beads and runs from the wound and Haneul’s scream makes it worth it.
Hanbin scrambles, trying to shield them with his body. “No, stop! Stop it, please!” he wails, tears streaking down his cheeks.
“Hanbin-ah, move!” Hao warns, refusing to focus on the tears. He does not want to be distracted.
Haneul grabs Hao and pulls him toward the kitchen island. Hao slams his shoulder into his brother to free himself and pins him against the counter. He snatches Haneul’s knife and closes his hands around Haneul’s throat.
“You will not take him,” Hao spits into his face. “You will not take what is mine.” He used to say the exact same thing when he was younger, when Haneul stole from him, and even now, he means it just as fiercely.
Haneul’s laugh is thin and choked. “Yours?” he whispers. Hao releases his grip on the throat, which gives Haneul just enough time to push him off and take his knife back. Both men stagger to the kitchen floor. The last thing Hao hears from his brother is, “He prefers me to you anyway.”
“I’m going to kill you!” Hao yells at the same time Hanbin cries, “No!” and Haneul’s sadist laugh rings through the room.
****
Hanbin doesn’t know how it happens. One moment he’s screaming, and the next there’s blood—so much blood—pooling across the kitchen floor. One of the twins is lying there, trembling, their white dress shirt soaked through with red. His brain tries to process the scene, but nothing makes sense. Did Hao stab Haneul—or did Haneul stab Hao? They look exactly the same, and his mind won’t focus. There’s someone dying—or already dead—on the floor. He should call 119. Yes, call 119.
Where’s his phone again?
“Hanbin-ah~,” the surviving twin calls out. The voice is light and teasing, not matching the situation they are in. The smirk looks like Haneul’s, but the cute head tilt looks like Hao’s.
“What are we going to do?” Hanbin stammers. The question falls from his mouth before he realizes how useless it sounds. What can they do right now? The twin steps closer, very slow and nervewracking, but Hanbin stays frozen where he stands.
“We celebrate, baby,” the man says.
That’s Hao, right? Hao calls him baby.
“I finally got rid of him after all these years,” the man continues, his smile looking proud. “Now I have everything to myself.”
Hanbin’s blood runs cold. Hao would never say that. That tone and that smile is wrong. It has to be Haneul.
His eyes dart between the brothers. The one on the floor isn’t moving anymore. Is he dead? He should check and try to help, but before he can take a step, the surviving twin grabs his wrist and yanks him in.
In a blur, Hanbin is pinned against the blood-smeared counter, a warm mouth crashing against his. He gasps in shock, but the man takes it as an opening, pushing his tongue inside. Hanbin freezes, trembling, unable to even push him away. He lets the twin kiss him, smelling the harsh metallic scent of blood thick in the air. The body pressed against his is very hungry, the erection pressing hard against Hanbin’s thigh is proof.
No. No. There’s no way he’s hard after killing his brother.
Who is this monster touching him?
Then, from below, fingers grab his ankle. Hanbin yelps, jerking back, heart slamming in his chest. The one who should be dead—bleeding out seconds ago—grips his leg and pulls weakly, looking at him pitifully. Hanbin loses balance and crashes to the floor, scrambling back to get out of his grip, terrified.
Before he can process what just happened, the surviving one drops to his knees beside him. He cups Hanbin’s face, dragging him back into another kiss, ignoring what just happened. The kiss is no less hot and desperate. Hanbin should be screaming, should be fighting back, should be dealing with the dead body beside him—but his body betrays him.
His hands find the survivor’s neck, still shaking as he deepens the kiss. Maybe it’s shock. Maybe it’s denial. Or maybe it’s everything that makes this feel exhilarating. From what he understands, the reason Hao has been hiding him at home all this time is because of his twin. The whole “stay home while I work” thing was a façade. Hao didn’t want Haneul to find him. And now, seeing him with that twin, his normally meek boyfriend goes wild to protect him.
Hanbin slips his tongue into Hao’s mouth, licking deeper as the feeling of being so precious washes over him.
He tells himself this is Hao. It has to be his boyfriend of seven years. It’s easier to believe that than to face what might really be true. His boyfriend who wants him desperately fought with Haneul—who has been coming home to fuck him—for him. Haneul wanted him just as badly, even if only to make Hao jealous. Hanbin knows Haneul risked everything for him. Only him.
They both wanted him to death.
Haneul is dead now. Hao does not have to share him with anyone anymore, and Hao hates sharing. Hanbin hates everything Hao hates. He wants Hao happy, wants to be the reason for that happiness the same way Hao makes him feel chosen and cherished.
Now Hanbin can go out in public with him without fear. He can walk beside him openly, maybe even go to work with him, make sure no one dares to look at his beloved Hao the wrong way. He can protect him the same way the older protected him today.
As loved and claimed as Hao made him feel, Hanbin wants to return it. He wants Hao to feel just as wanted. All this time, Hanbin thought he was twisted for wanting to hurt anyone who so much as looked at his boyfriend. For feeling that flash of anger, that possessiveness curling in his stomach when he imagines Hao getting hit on at his place of work.
But now he realizes they are more alike than he ever admitted. Two halves of the same coin.
Now they can finally be together the way they were meant to be. No interruptions or rivals. Just the two of them loving and doting on each other forever.
His cock twitches between his legs, stomach fluttering with butterflies.
Hao must notice. Hanbin realizes he’s still completely naked when Hao wraps a hand around his cock, jerking him to full hardness while their lips stay locked in a fevered kiss.
His body burns with a mix of lust and adrenaline, the grotesque scene around them fading to the edges of his awareness. A dead body lies nearby, but he barely notices, lost entirely in the twist of Hao’s hands on his member. It feels so good.
Then he pulls away and wet fingers creep toward his rim. Hanbin gasps and pulls away from the kiss, shock and arousal colliding in his chest. Hao winks at him, dipping his hand into the blood to slick his fingers some more.
“What are you—?” Hanbin starts to protest, but the words die in his throat as two fingers breach him at once. His body, still loose from riding Hao this morning, takes them easily. Pleasure spikes through him, consuming everything else, and a loud moan rips from his throat.
He rocks against the floor instinctively, urging the fingers deeper. Hao grips his thighs, pulling Hanbin’s legs over his shoulders to press further into his hole.
Hanbin thrashes, his hands covered in the dead twin’s blood, lost in the dizzying fullness of the digits. He feels overwhelmed, stuffed, and still hungry for more. Whimpers escape him as he yanks his legs free and takes control.
“Ah!” Hao yelps when Hanbin flips them, pushing him down and settling into his lap. The rush of power sends heat flooding Hanbin’s veins. “Hanbinnie, you’re such a slut!” Hao moans as Hanbin begins using the blood on his hands to slick up the older’s cock, twisting his grip and drawing deeper, guttural groans from him.
“Gege, am I doing good for you?” Hanbin asks, craving validation. He knows Hao praises him, while Haneul would only degrade him.
“You’re perfect, darling!” Hao’s voice slices through the haze, leaving Hanbin even more confused but hungry for more.
To drown out his tangled thoughts, Hanbin slides onto Hao’s bloody cock in one quick motion, burying himself to the hilt. He begins to roll his hips, hard and fast, giving himself no pause. His bloody fingers tear at Hao’s wrinkled dress shirt, seeking more and more.
“Fuck, you’re doing so good, wifey!” Hanbin thinks he hears, though Hao’s mouth is only letting out moans by the time he looks.
Hanbin twists at his pink, pebbled nipples, desperate to hear confirmation, desperate to know he’s riding him well.
“Baby, go easy,” Hao moans, thrusting upwards into Hanbin’s heat even as he begs for slowness. Hanbin knows his boyfriend well. Hao loves to feign restraint, then go faster himself when Hanbin starts to slow down.
Hanbin’s mind races, tracing every similarity between the twins, every shared expression and familiar movement. Their faces blur and merge together until all he can see is his beloved Hao. He starts riding him harder and faster, desperate to drown in the fever of it, to lose himself completely in their shared delirium.
A glimpse of their future flashes in his mind, so vivid it feels real. Hanbin knows it’s their new reality.
Tomorrow, he is going to wake Hao up for work like he always does, after making sure he looks perfect even in his sleep, his moles intact and lips jutted out in his usual sleepy pout. He will brush his hair away from his face, admire him quietly and make sure nothing is out of place. Then he is going to bathe him carefully and hand him his lunchbox with a soft smile.
He will convince Hao to let him come along to work. He can sit in the lobby while Hao works upstairs. He will wait patiently, knowing Hao is just a few floors above him, safe and his. Then they will walk home together, side by side.
At home, Hanbin will give him a massage, adjusting his appearance while his hands move over him, fixing every small detail with care. And later they will make love slowly, bodies pressed together, skin against skin, falling asleep wrapped around each other as they wait for their routine to begin again the next day.
Perfect.
Hao’s fingers suddenly reach for more blood, dragging Hanbin out of his thoughts. The red smears across Hanbin’s thighs, warm and sticky, before Hao grips his swollen, angry cock and starts stroking in time with Hanbin’s frantic movements.
The sharp contrast between the softness of his imagined future and the messy reality beneath him makes Hanbin’s breath hitch. His hips stutter before he starts to move faster, chasing that precious vision and the feeling that this is fate. This is exactly how it is meant to be.
Each harsh twist against his cockhead, makes Hanbin pinch Hao’s nipples just as harsh, his moans mingling with Hao’s guttural cries. They somehow manage to stick to the messy, chaotic rhythm, both of them chasing their peak.
Hanbin starts to bounce on the older’s cock, hitting his prostate directly and it doesn’t take long after that for him to cum.
Hanbin spurts heavily onto Hao’s stomach and the floor, white fluid mixing with dark red in a chaotic swirl. He doesn’t even pause to breathe. He keeps going, past the edge of overstimulation, desperate for more. He feels so insatiable.
“Fuck, Hanbinnie! Almost… almost!” Hao moans, his grip tightening on Hanbin’s hips, pulling him down to spear him further onto his cock.
Hanbin shudders, riding him harder until he feels the gush of the older’s cum fill him and spill out in waves, the fluid staining them both. Finally, spent and trembling, he collapses onto Hao’s chest, their bodies splayed across the floor, sticky in a pool of blood beside the dead twin.
When Hanbin finally pulls back, he can’t stop staring. The twin’s face is cruel, a smirk twisting his lips like he’s relieving the moment. Yet his hands reach up to brush Hanbin’s bangs from his eyes, a simple act that radiates something soft and kind. Hanbin is further confused by the contradiction, trying to piece everything together. He swallows hard, voice trembling slightly. “So… who are you?”
The surviving twin meets his gaze, eyes calculating, lips curving into a smile that looks anything but genuine. Hanbin thinks it’s false anyway. “Does it really matter?”