Work Text:
After a detrimental day at work, there's nothing San loves more than going to a nearby bar and unwinding for a few hours. Half of the time, he doesn't even drink more than a glass of whiskey—simply there for the vibes alone.
And to people watch.
Most times that San comes here, he never sees the same thing twice. Some nights he'll stumble into couples getting frisky with one another in the bathroom on a random Wednesday night. Others, it'll be as though he walked into a ghost town and it's only him, the bartender, and a few other patrons.
Tonight, falls somewhere in between.
The bar he always goes to, Utopia, is hosting a trivia night with a complementary round of drinks for any group participating. If San came with other people, he would definitely sign-up, but for now, he remains at his usual seat at the bar and watches the tables fill up with all sorts of individuals. Mostly everyone that comes in is with a group of at least two other people, searching around for any open seats to snatch up before they get stuck standing or sitting with another group they've never met before.
Though, there's a few strays that come in simply unbeknownst to the event going on, and San keeps his eyes trained on them for the night as they grow more bewildered by the rowdiness of the otherwise quiet bar.
One person in particular catches San's eyes as soon as he walks through the door—alone.
Pale, blond hair that extends hardly to the man's shoulders with wispy bangs that clearly weren't styled and maybe finger-combed at best. He can't be much taller than San by the looks of it, but the way he shyly approaches the bar, pushing through a crowd of groups, gives the impression San could easily tower over him. San watches as the man attempts to navigate through all of the bodies, politely as ever, not wanting to impede on any boundaries. Gentle and kind.
Even the man's face is on the softer side—the kind of face San wouldn't see here on a regular given night. Surely he came here to meet up with friends for the trivia night.
San normally doesn't approach any of the people he watches, no. That's not his thing. But somehow, as the man comes up to the empty seat beside San, he can feel his mouth twitching to introduce himself.
"You seem a little lost," San finds himself saying as the man squeezes through the bodies crowding nearly ever nook and cranny of this bar.
"Huh?" the man questions, tilting his head. "Oh, kind of. I'm supposed to meet my friends, but I don't see them here, yet."
The man cranes his neck and turns his body full around to scan the crowd, but it's no use. There's far too many people in the bar tonight to make out anyone—even if you know the back of their head better than your own hand.
"Well, you can sit here until they show up, if you'd like." San extends his hand to offer up the lonesome seat beside his own. He watches as the man contemplates, scanning the room once more before his shoulders sink in defeat.
"Yeah—sure, thanks."
"I'm San," he says, picking up the glass in front of him. Barely a few sips of it left. "You?"
Eyeing him carefully, San feels a heat wash lightly across his skin as the man gets comfortable in the seat. Eventually, his resolve settles and entertains San with his name, "Yeosang."
A conversation flows between them effortlessly to the point that San himself is shocked by how well they seem to get along. Truly the last thing he expected tonight was to chat up a complete stranger, let alone even buy him a drink.
He learns that Yeosang is the same age as him, and works at a modeling agency—which makes sense, given how insanely attractive he is. When San asks if he's seen him in anything, he has to fight the burning in his chest when Yeosang blushes as he lists some of the magazines his shoots have appeared in. Truthfully, San doesn't pick up magazines too often to recognize any of the names, but he nods nonetheless. Admiring the way the minimal lighting refracts off of Yeosang's eyes—giving them an added sparkle to their already glistening surface.
There's hardly any distance between them, but beneath the thin layers of Yeosang's attire, San knows a physique that differs from everything else about Yeosang lies within. San notices it in the way Yeosang's shirt clings to his chest when he barely straightens his shoulders once his jacket is removed. Or how the sleeves of his shirt keep riding up towards his shoulders the more he fusses around while talking with San. It's all the little things like this that bring a thirst to San that he hasn't felt come around in years.
But, he tries to push it down when Yeosang seems genuinely invested in a conversation with San while he waits.
Around them, the bar only becomes more crowded, pushing Yeosang further into San's space, and vice-versa. They're shoulder to shoulder by the time San finishes the last swig of whiskey, tossing the remaining drops of golden courage before settling the glass on the counter. Yeosang watches him and visibly swallows when San brings his head back down, eyes trailing down the expanse of his neck.
Ignoring all of that, San leans in and whispers into Yeosang's ear, "Have you seen your friends yet?"
After all, that's why Yeosang is sat here—to wait for his friends to show up.
But something within San is hoping the man rather sit here with him for the remainder of the night instead.
He watches as Yeosang feigns disappointment over the question and turns to scan over the crowd behind them. There's more people than San has ever seen in here before. To the point that if he was looking for people he knew, he might not even be able to single them out among all the bodies present in the bar. Surely the same could apply to Yeosang.
And it seems like it does, because he turns back around to face San with an unreadable expression.
"I think I see them over there," he begins, "but if I'm being honest, San, you seem more interesting than who I was supposed to hang out with tonight."
A flutter finds its way to San's chest from the admission, and he nearly chokes; not expecting it at all.
The look that was unreadable previously turns into something enticing, inviting even, as Yeosang picks up his glass from the counter and takes a sip. One of his eyebrows quirking up as the lower half of his face hides behind the glass. It reads as an invitation that sends a shiver down San's spine.
When Yeosang sets his glass down, he leans in like how San did a moment prior, whispering against the shell of his ear, "Do you wanna get out of here?"
This isn't where San expected his night to go, he thinks as the question registers in his mind. Yeosang's warm, gentle breath tickling the already blushing red skin of San's neck.
He should decline, really, but there's something in the way Yeosang leans back and looks at San through his now half-lidded eyes—an expression painting his face that is completely differing to the cautious one he walked into the bar with. It brings a bout of curiosity to San as he tries to gather the courage to turn down the offer.
But yet he can't find himself to do just that.
"Yeah, okay," he breathes out when Yeosang's expectancy nearly seems to empty as he sat there and waited for a response.
A smile wraps itself around Yeosang's lips when he hears the answer he wants. "Great. Let's go."
And before San can even process it, Yeosang is grabbing at his hand and weaving them through the groups of people to make their way out of the bar. His grasp is firm, ensuring not to lose the man he drags behind him for even a second.
The fresh air that hits San's face the moment they're outside is refreshing against the blushing red of his skin from the alcohol beginning to nestle nice and warmly in his veins. He's not drunk—no way—but the buzz that tingles beneath his skin feels nice. Like the way his hand still settles comfortably in Yeosang's as he leads them down the backstreets of Itaewon.
When they find themselves entering an apartment complex after a brief five minute walk, San tries to ignore the worries beginning to bud in his mind. It's been a minute since he's properly hooked up with anyone—not since his university days, which were years behind him at this point—and it's certainly been even longer since he's done it in this manner. Truly, his outings at the bar never end this way. A majority of the times, San goes home after an hour or two, with only himself and never another body.
Yet, the worries don't have time to blossom before he's being tugged into what he can only assume is Yeosang's apartment, and being pushed up against the backside of the front door. Yeosang caging him in with only a pair of hands landing on the smallest part of his waist to keep him in place.
Everything comes back to him in that moment.
With the way Yeosang gazes at his through his half-lidded eyes again, a sense of hunger dripping from his expression alone, San swallows down any self-doubt that might be festering and leans in first.
It's the way he catches Yeosang off guard with the first move, capturing his lips with a heat neither of them expected. A gasp comes somewhere from Yeosang as he reciprocates the kiss and gently pushes San further into the door, his fingertips curling into the subtle folds of San's button-up shirt.
They take their time as if it's disposable and there isn't another worry in the world. Learning about each other's mouths, bodies, and what triggers each other to release a soft breathy moan every now and then. When Yeosang's hands leave the post and venture down to San's hips, San swears he feels the man smile against his lips as he can't help the shudder that travels down his torso. Yeosang doesn't even grip him or anything, just a mere drag of his hands and it has San shivering in anticipation. Similarly, the moan he's able to tear from Yeosang when his hands travel into the man's hair and curl around his locks is like ecstasy to his ears. Amplifying the goosebumps already risen on his arms.
"Fuck," Yeosang curses when he eventually pulls back for a second to catch his breath, staring down at San with a lust he hasn't seen in years. "You kiss just as good as I thought you would."
Something about his tone swirls in San's mind, bringing a bout of dizziness to him as he leans in to kiss Yeosang again—growing addicted already after only one measly taste.
He tests the waters between them and tugs at Yeosang's hair again to get him to gasp once more, and when the man complies just like San expected, he pushes past the perimeters and swipes his tongue over Yeosang's lower lip. It's immediate—the way Yeosang accepts the invitation, allowing San to explore into his mouth with his tongue alone. The fingers in Yeosang's hair loosen in the form of a reward for being compliant, but he can feel the way Yeosang frowns into the kiss afterwards. So, San curls his fingers again, making every attempt to ignore the swirl of arousal floating around his gut when Yeosang groans into his mouth over the gentle tug.
So easy, he thinks to himself at the same time Yeosang slots one of his legs between San's to press their bodies even closer; Yeosang's knee brushing just close enough to the erection beginning to tent beneath his pants. It's electrifying and San nearly melts from the action, his knees threatening to give way when Yeosang's knee settles in that spot. A looming proposal of pleasure just a few centimeters away.
All it takes is for Yeosang's hands to drift further back and for his fingertips to dig slightly into the soft muscle that lay beneath them to earn the same kind of gasp from San that he had given him earlier. Except, it's much, much more rewarding when it gets caught somewhere in San's throat and comes out more choked than either expected. San can't help the involuntary reaction, and throws his head back, arching further into Yeosang's hold. The man takes advantage and trails his lips away from San's mouth and begins to leave a sloppy, sopping wet trail of kisses over his face down to his jaw, and onto his neck. All San can manage from this is a strained whimper sneaking past his lips he keeps pressed together because it feels just so good.
It's been far too long since he's been felt up and taken apart like this, but suddenly he's glad it's Yeosang that's doing it. Even if he didn't even know the man's existence a few hours prior to this moment.
"Makin' such pretty noises," Yeosang purrs with his lips against the pulse point on San's neck. "Don't hold them back, pretty boy."
It wouldn't have taken much more than that for San to melt—considering if Yeosang wasn't pressing him against this door, he'd already be a puddle on the floor—but the pet name does it in for him and he has to strain all the muscles in his legs to keep him upright. His resolve melting from only two simple words. He can't keep the whimper from burrowing out of his chest and into the air between them.
"Just like that, baby." Yeosang's lips come back up to the surface, and it's impossible to miss the smirk plastered on his lips over making San so weak so quickly.
The hands on his hip rub in circles over the fabric of San's pants, fingertips massaging gently into the plush muscle that lays beneath the material, all the meanwhile the knee between San's leg hikes up further and presses deliciously firm into the erection that's borderline a full-blown problem at this point.
To say San is nothing but putty in Yeosang's hold would be an understatement.
"Look at you," Yeosang huffs out, his eyes scanning over the way San squirms between his hands and his knee. "So worked up already, and I've barely done anything…"
"Mhm—fuck," San curses under his breath when Yeosang only digs his knee further into the narrowly closing space. Breath hitching in his chest every time it brushes past him with just the right amount of friction to keep him wanting but not quite having.
Fuck, this is gonna be a long night.
San, too drunk on everything about Yeosang, and still buzzed from the whiskey that's slowly bleeding out from his veins, misses when he's carefully peeled off of the door. He only notices when Yeosang steps away from him, the heat in his groin beginning to cool from the loss of direct contact. As cautious as ever, Yeosang pulls San back into another kiss and his hands fall to the man's waist while San's hands find purchase on the broadness of Yeosang's shoulders. Hands exploring every centimeter the man has to offer.
Just as much, San hardly notices when his legs begin moving on their own, stumbling in rhythm with Yeosang's own as he's led further into the apartment. His eyes remain closed the entire time Yeosang kisses him like they're the only two in the world, neither wanting to come up for air. Only breaking apart when Yeosang abruptly backs into a bed with the backs of his legs, bringing San down on top of him. Their stumble is adjoined with soft giggles when San is caught off-guard by the whole ordeal—a soft whoa sounding out as he reaches out to brace himself over Yeosang with his hands on either side of the man. Their lips hardly waste any time in reconnecting.
San's knees come up on the mattress, crawling until they're on either side of Yeosang's hips—his own hips hovering in the meantime. It's Yeosang whose hands land on San's rear again and slowly bring him down to sit atop of his lap; the both of them moaning into each other's mouths over the brush of contact between their groins. Neither of them can tell who starts moving first, but all either of them know is that it feels far too divine to cease the movements.
"God, can feel you, San. S-So big…" Yeosang groans out as his hands keep their placement and grab ahold of San even further, pushing the man down into his hips to keep the constant contact between them.
The compliment goes straight to San's head—both of them—and swirls there as he breathes into Yeosang's mouth, unable to find a connection between the thoughts jumbling around his mind and the tongue in his mouth. All the comes out is a strangled moan instead.
He nearly whines when he notices the pressure fall from his ass, but doesn't miss the way those hands snake around to his front instead and work to unbuckle the belt holding his work-pants up from his tedious day. Any bit of stress San felt from the workday earlier merely melts from his being as Yeosang undoes it from the loops and discards it, already fumbling with the button keeping him from being any closer to San.
The second he feels Yeosang reach in and palm him through his already dampened boxers, San's elbows nearly give out and have him topple atop the man. A steady trickle of soft whimpers sounding from his agape mouth without any control over the gentle rubbing through the thin fabric. Even if he wanted to hold back, he couldn't. Never has someone touching him ever felt so, so good.
The heat of the situation is finally catching up to San, and fuck he's burning alive. From where Yeosang's hand holds him ever so carefully, to everywhere else on his body, San can hardly stand the heat that radiates from his skin, trapped beneath his clothes. Leaning back further onto Yeosang's lap, San finally unlocks his elbows and frantically works to unbutton the shirt keeping him held captive. If anything, this only gives Yeosang more room between them, and he wraps his fingers around San's clothed length.
"Oh fuck, you're so fucking big, San." Yeosang is breathless as his hand struggles to wrap around San, but he still tries his darnedest.
"Yeah?" San asks, sounding just as breathless himself, as he finally fiddles with the final remaining buttons of his shirt. Feeling the heat finally free itself from where it was trapped between his skin and the fabric. "You gonna be able to handle it?"
He lets his shirt fly free as he shrugs it off of his shoulders, throwing it somewhere on the floor of the bedroom they're in.
Somewhere in between relishing in the relief of the heat finally radiating off of him, and when Yeosang removes his palm from San's groin to dance over his now exposed abdomen instead, San hears what he believes to be the faintest chuckle.
He chalks it up to his imagination until he looks down and sees Yeosang with a sly grin on his lips, his shoulder shaking as if he is laughing. A part of him feels embarrassment creeping over him, but when he feels Yeosang's hands travel all the way up to his pecs, a shiver washes over him instead.
"Oh, I don't need to worry about that tonight," Yeosang admits, and San grows as perplexed as the erection in his underwear grows hard.
Which must translate directly on his features, because Yeosang only tilts his head over San's expression. "What? Did you think you were gonna fuck me tonight?"
And when San nods subtly, just enough for Yeosang to notice, he feels the embarrassment creep over him again. The blush on his cheeks only deepening to a muted crimson color.
Is this… Is this not what Yeosang meant by his invitation back at the bar…?
"You're too cute, San," Yeosang says in a tone that doesn't sound demeaning, but the implication comes off that San is nothing but a fool for assuming they'd be hooking up. But, he doesn't have time to settle with that assumption before Yeosang carries on in the next beat, "the one getting fucked tonight is you, baby."
The perplexity comes back at him and hits San hard like a truck. "Huh?"
"You seem so surprised." Yeosang pouts as his hands settle on the small of San's waist again. "For someone that was barely holding themselves up, I for sure thought you were a bottom."
Him? A bottom?
The implication renders him speechless, but opposite in the way he's been this entire night so far.
"I'm not—I've never…" San mumbles, pouting as the words leave his lips, feigning the way he feels some sort of sorrow over all of this.
It's not that there's anything wrong with it, but for San, it almost dampens his sense of pride. A toxic trait he shouldn't have, but can't help anyway.
"Oh—" Yeosang's eyes widen in a horror-like fashion over San's confession. "Shit, I—you just seemed so compliant, I just assumed… I'm sorry, we don't have to—"
"No!" San cuts him off suddenly, the words coming out before his brain even has a plan of what else to say.
Yeosang only stares at him expectantly, waiting for whatever else he has to say.
There's never been an instance where San ever considered this, and never where he thought he would, but there's something about the way Yeosang's hands continue to caress up and down his sides in a coaxing manner. Like he is perfectly fine if San isn't into that, but still has hopes.
And fuck—the way he looks at San too. Those big doe eyes he first saw when Yeosang walked in. Staring back at him in silent anticipation.
It's without much resistance that San finds himself melting into all of it, and lets his resolve go.
"We can still—you can fuck me."
It feels odd to come from his mouth, and to hear his own voice saying those words, but yet, the way Yeosang lights up in response from it makes the startling sensation wash away.
"Oh." Yeosang's doe-like eyes are gone in a flash, and he's back staring at San with the same half-lidded ones from before. A new intent filling out in his fingertips with the way they dance across San's bare skin. "I'll take such good care of you, baby, okay?"
He leans back into San's orbit and stares up at the man with a genuine expression on his face that exudes nothing less than the carefulness he promised. When San gets pulled back in against Yeosang's lips he feels all of it. Even more so when the fingertips against his sides don't dig in as if they're piercing him, but lay gently against the relaxed muscles. Coaxing all of the softness out of San like it's their main purpose.
"Want you to lay down, can you do that for me?" Yeosang pulls back and speaks softly against San's lips, and San nods right away. Peeling himself off of Yeosang not even a breath later and laying on the opposite side of the bed.
Yeosang doesn't waste any time in climbing on top of San, essentially flipping their positions around. But, he doesn't stay in one spot for long before his lips reattach themselves to San, opting to stray away from San's lips and all over his face, down to his jaw, and over the expanse of his neck. San can't help the way his body automatically complies to the touch; head tilting back to give Yeosang more room, his hands flying up to cradle Yeosang's head. Soft noises of approval whenever Yeosang's mouth sucks and nibbles on his skin in just the right spot.
"You've got such a pretty body," Yeosang comments as he pulls back ever so slightly to admire the man beneath him. Hands caressing down San's sides, feeling the shiver that arises underneath of his fingertips and giggling over the sensation. He brings his hands up and his thumbs brush over San's budding nipples, reveling in the sharp inhale San releases afterwards. "And such a sensitive one too…"
San whines in protest, but he can't even find it in him to verbalize any of it. All words trapping themselves in his throat, and whatever thoughts he did have are reduced to mush with the way Yeosang's touch feels against his heated skin.
When he woke up this morning, this isn't how he imagined his night to be going, but there's a part of him that isn't complaining either. Even if he'll be crossing into unknown territory, he trusts Yeosang despite knowing hardly anything about him.
San hardly notices when Yeosang's hands trail back down his sides and his fingertips tuck beneath the waistband of his pants, tugging them down swiftly. He makes an effort to lift his hips so it's easier for Yeosang, but it seems the man doesn't even need the help. Pulling the piece of clothing off so effortlessly as if he's done this hundreds of times. The thought of that only aids in the swirling in San's gut as he feels the rush of cold air collide with his exposed legs now. The only thing left on him being his underwear—meanwhile Yeosang is still completely clothed. He paws mindlessly at the collar of Yeosang's shirt when his hands naturally fall from the man's head.
"Hm? What's wrong, baby?" Yeosang asks, leaning his head down to kiss at San's hand, wrist, and arm.
"Your clothes—wan' them off. Wanna see you, too…" San nearly pouts at the same time Yeosang sits back on his thighs.
"Oh, is someone a little impatient?" Yeosang teases, and the flush already apparent on every bit of San's skin only intensifies. San's normally not like this, but somehow with Yeosang, it comes out against his own control.
A second later, Yeosang is tugging his own shirt off and over his head, and San shudders when he comes face to face with Yeosang's torso.
Back at the bar, San was able to tell how strong Yeosang is from just the way his hands looked—littered in prominent veins that branched off in every direction possible. Even when he shrugged his jacket off at some point, San noticed the way the sleeve of of Yeosang's shirt hugged his biceps so tightly at certain positions. As if the seams could burst at any moment if he flexed too suddenly. On the rare occasions San glanced down, all he was met with was nearly the same situation for Yeosang's thighs in his jeans. The muscles filling out perfectly as the fabric tugged tautly in response.
And now… San sees it again in front of him. His mouth is practically watering.
He can only lay there and watch as Yeosang works to unbutton and unzip his jeans, standing up on his knees to pull them down. Revealing the filled out bulge still hidden behind the thin fabric of his underwear. Yeosang scoots off of the bed momentarily to properly be-rid of the jeans, and right after, his focus goes to the pair of underwear. San watches with a bated breath weighing heavily in his chest when Yeosang's fingers hook into the waistband and finally tug down the remaining piece of clothing on his body. His eyes flitter down to the bare expanse of Yeosang's thighs and fuck, he's so fucked. He hardly has a moment to admire the curve of Yeosang's muscles before his cock is springing free and bounces up towards his abdomen. It's despicable—the way Yeosang leans his head back in relief to finally being freed.
San becomes even more drunk off of the sight in front of him, taking in every little feature of Yeosang that he had only been able to imagine back at the bar. Now that it's in front of him, the arousal in his gut blossoms and fuck, he can't wait another second.
Never has he thought about needing someone's cock in him before, but it's all that comes across coherently in his mind.
Yeosang leans back on the bed, and San doesn't make the realization until he feels the man's hands settle on his hips and tug at his own underwear. "Did you think I forgot about you?"
His tone is sultry and dripping with teasing, but San doesn't even say anything. Laying there so dumbly as his own cock is finally freed from the article of clothing, and he shivers as another rush of cold air washes over him. Relishing in the relief it brings him as the heat finally dissipates into the air.
"Wow… You're even bigger than I thought you'd be," Yeosang purrs when he fully takes in San's naked being. Eyes scanning over every freckle, every crease, every other mark that litters his body. It feels embarrassing, almost, to be dissected like this, but San loves it all at the same time.
If a dribble of precum drips onto his abdomen as a result, he ignores it, and hopes to God that Yeosang doesn't notice. He wouldn't be able to handle it.
"Look at you, so worked up already." Yeosang's hand settles on the inner of San's thigh and dances around the surface of the skin, avoiding San's pelvic area, but making sure his fingertips dip dangerously close into the area. "I've barely touched you, and you're already leaking. When was the last time someone took good care of you, hm?"
San knows it's a rhetorical question, but truthfully, he can't even think of a time within the past few years. He's been so overwhelmed with his job, that it's probably easily been since his university years. But even then, whoever he hooked up with wasn't too keen on making him feel good, only seeking pleasure for themselves or giving him a mediocre blowjob that left him hardly satisfied.
Where he's laying now, San has a feeling he doesn't have to worry about not being taken care of. Not when Yeosang has already done more than any of his previous hookups have done. Which isn't much, and that says a lot, doesn't it?
"You poor thing," Yeosang says, looking down directly at San's cock. It twitches in response, and San whimpers unintentionally. He's staring down at Yeosang through strained eyes and barely catches the man glancing back up at him. "Do you even touch yourself? It's so red, like it's been neglected for years."
Of course San gets himself off, what kind of question even is that? But, he doesn't have the heart to tell Yeosang that he's so worked up because somehow, someway, the man's words are only fueling the fire even more. That he's only this worked up, because his mind and body are addicted to the way Yeosang speaks to him so softly, yet so teasingly. That he can't get enough of it, actually.
When Yeosang's hand finally lands at the base of San's cock, San shivers in anticipation. Melting further into the mattress beneath his back, mouth falling agape from hardly any contact. His eyes stay on Yeosang the entire time, watching how his fingertips match with what San can feel against his body. Carefully, Yeosang's fingertips wrap around San's length, and then dryness of it all is enough to drawl a sound from his body San didn't think he could produce, but it comes out nonetheless.
"Is it too much?" Yeosang asks, sounding purely genuine, and San can only shake his head in response.
"N-ngh—n-no. Feels… Feels so good," San sputters out, a gasp hitching in the back of his throat when he feels Yeosang's thumb press against the head of his cock. Gathering all of the precum beading there and spreading it down to cover as much of San's shaft as possible. It's not a lot, but it makes it more bearable, and San's body relaxes.
"If it's too much, tell me, okay?"
San nods his head, eyes closing over the slow drags of Yeosang's hand up and down his cock.
There's more wetness all of a sudden, but San didn't feel Yeosang go anywhere, nor hear the sound of bottle of lube clicking open. But in this state, it's hard for San to pay attention to any other stimuli besides what's being done to him. Blinking, he forces his eyes open and catches the very tail end of a string of saliva connecting from the head of his cock to Yeosang's tongue, and he nearly spasms over the sight of it.
Sure enough, his cock reacts in a similar way, and he can see a sly smile spread over Yeosang's lips after he laps up any of the saliva dripping down his chin. "Oh, you like that, baby? You like me drooling over your big, fat cock?"
He throws his head back and writhes beneath Yeosang's touch. The glide is so much smoother now, and it's more pleasurable than anything San has felt in years. His own hand can only provide so much relief, but already with Yeosang's, it's doing more than he ever anticipated.
"Such a shame it's going to waste tonight." Yeosang pouts, now, but San can't see it. "You really are hung, San, I'm sure you'd fuck me good with this. Maybe if you're good tonight, I'll let you another time."
Fuck.
No one has ever spoke to him like this before, and it's equally as confusing as it is arousing. Yeosang would want another time with him? Oh fuck.
Suddenly, he needs to be on his best behavior—which is strange, because he's never had that thought cross his mind during sex before.
Yeosang strokes him for not much longer, but San melts with every flick of his wrist, whimpers breaking free from his vocal chords when everything Yeosang is doing lines up just right. The thumb over the head of his cock, the slow drag of his palm, the angle at which he twists his entire hand.
And when Yeosang pulls his hand away, San whines because the coil in his gut was winding mindlessly. Building waves of pleasure eagerly, only for them to be ripped away so suddenly.
"Have you fingered yourself before, San?" Yeosang asks, and it sounds genuine. The sultry tone slipping only a bit as the curiosity is broached.
It catches him off guard, and distracts him from the loss of contact. Only for a second, though. "Mm, but…"
This feels a bit embarrassing to admit, but Yeosang only looks at him with only the purest of intentions behind his eyes.
"My fingers… They're too short, so I couldn't—it didn't do much…" he admits, feeling a blush creep over his cheeks.
It had been a long while since he seriously made an effort to work himself open. Back when discovering his sexuality had first presented itself, but San was far too impatient to delve into that side. He found it easier to stick his dick in things than to insert anything into himself.
"Ah, I see," Yeosang hums. "Well, maybe I can help you feel something tonight, then. Do you still want that?"
"Please," San whines out, unsure of where it even comes from.
Yeosang doesn't respond verbally, but instead, he leans in completely and kisses San. It's short and sweet, but it swirls around in San's chest. Feeling like a kaleidoscope of butterflies are fluttering around between his ribs.
All of this is so unusual to any of the hookups he's ever had, but it feels all so right.
When Yeosang pulls away, San notices a gentle smile on the man's lips, and tries not to think too much of it when he stretches over to the bedside table, searching through the drawers for something. He comes back over momentarily with a bottle of lube and a singular condom packet, tossing them haphazardly on the bed.
"It's probably gonna feel cold," Yeosang warns when he picks the bottle of lube back up, uncaps it, and squirts some on two of his fingers. "I'll be gentle, baby, but tell me if it's too much. Okay?"
"I will." San nods and tries to ignore the weight in his chest. This is really happening, but he's not as frightened as he thought he'd be.
"Good boy," Yeosang purrs, and San feigns to let it affect him. But unfortunately another spurt of precum drips onto his abdomen, and Yeosang chuckles. "You really like being complimented… Good to know."
With his non-sticky hand, Yeosang uses it to push San's legs open and guides them so his knees are bent. Allowing San's hole to be on full display for him to dive into. "God, all of you is just so pretty. So unfair…"
He traces around San's rim with one of his lubed fingers, and San's breath hitches. Yeosang's right—it is cold. But he tries to ignore that sensation in favor of the feather-light touch instead. Already, it feels so unusual, but it's not entirely foreign. Yet, the second Yeosang pushes his lone finger in, San freezes up. He doesn't push in further than the first knuckle, but the presence of something inside of him is enough to bring a bout of brief panic.
Yeosang notices and pulls out his finger, but San whines. "N-No… 'm okay. Promise… Please…"
"You ask so nicely," Yeosang praises, and slips his finger back in at the same time. It's a distraction, San realizes, because his finger delves in further than the first time. Pushing beyond his first knuckle—filling San up even more. "Don't even have to tell you to say please, you say it all on your own…"
He pulls his finger back out, but slowly. Dragging against the walls of San, and he watches as San writhes beneath him. And when he pushes back in, he continues to push further than he had before. It's hardly pleasurable as San's body works to adjust to the unfamiliar sensation, but his body reacts nonetheless.
It continues like this for a moment. In, out, in out. San growing more accustomed to the lone finger within him, and even panting when Yeosang pushes further and a spark of pleasure hits him just once.
"You're doing so good baby, so good," Yeosang tells him earnestly, and the words go straight to his neglected cock. Making it even more red than it already had been—somehow. "Think you can handle another?"
"Yes," San breathes out immediately. Not wasting a breath, and even nodding to add to the confirmation.
And when Yeosang drags his finger back out the next time, San feels a second finger prod at his entrance. There's a burning sensation as Yeosang pushes in, but it doesn't hurt—no. It feels good. San can't help the way his brows curl as his eyes screw shut when Yeosang pushes in with the two of his fingers, only broaching so far before staying there for a moment.
"Feels okay?" Yeosang asks, and San nods.
"Keep going… Please… I can take it." San is a little breathless.
The most he's ever gone on his own is only one finger, and then giving up when he hardly reached his prostate even after a couple of minutes. So, this is certainly further outside of his comfort zone, now, but still, it's bearable. He can handle it—he has to. If he wants Yeosang to fuck him, then he needs to be able to handle it.
So, Yeosang slowly pushes in further with both of his fingers, and San whines as he goes all the way. Not sparing even a millimeter of space within San. The stretch feels… words can't even come to mind as San lays there uselessly. Letting Yeosang work him open with two fingers now. It's when he drags them back out, and pushes back in with a bit of resistance still does San feel all of his muscles tense up.
"You gotta relax, baby," Yeosang says softly. The words landing in his ears like a drip of honey lands on a piece of toast. There's a hand that lands on his waist to coax him into relaxing, and San tries his best to melt into the touch. He wants to, but his body is trying to adjust to everything going on still.
And eventually he does.
After a few more push and pulls, San is finally able to relax underneath of Yeosang's touch. The man's fingers gliding against his walls with more ease than the first time, and San is nothing but a whimpering mess beneath Yeosang. His breaths are scattered and scarce whenever Yeosang manages to press against the perfect spot, managing to draw out a strangled moan afterwards.
It becomes easier, and before San knows it, he hardly even notices the burn as he's stretched open. His mind going numb every time Yeosang presses into him like his life depends on it.
"A-Another… Please, Yeosang…" San finds himself asking when it's been long enough, and he's sure he can handle it. That, and he needs another. Where the two felt so full before, he feels like it's no longer enough.
"Are you sure?" Yeosang asks, still reaching for the bottle of lube, nonetheless.
"Mhm," San keeps his lips shut tightly as the pleasure keeps building in his gut. "Wan' another… Wan' it so bad, please."
Never did he imagine to be such a beggar, let alone for someone's fingers, but there's always a first for everything. At least that seems to be the theme of tonight.
"Of course, baby. You're doing so good for me. I'll give you whatever you want." Yeosang pulls his fingers out entirely and San's hole gapes around nothing.
He hates the way he feels without any of Yeosang inside of him, and he whines. Squirming over the loss of contact and loss of pleasure. He knew it had to happen, but still, it's horrendous to deal with. Is this how all of his partners had felt whenever he'd done the same thing?
Even then, San can hear the bottle of lube click open again, followed by the squirting of it all over Yeosang's slender fingers. Anticipation building in his chest over the expected burn from three of them inside of him.
There's hardly any time before he feels two of them re-enter him at first and San can't help the song that belts from his chest as soon as he feels full again. His hole swallowing Yeosang's fingers hungrily. A few thrusts in and out, and then San feels the aforementioned third finger prodding at his hole, and he tenses up again. It's not as bad as the first time, and he's able to relax nearly as soon as Yeosang pushes in with all three of them.
"O-Oh—oh f-fuck!" San cries out when Yeosang doesn't spare him any mercy and pushes all the way in. Practically slamming directly into his prostate successfully.
His body doesn't need time to adjust to the added finger, San realizes when all he feels is the pleasure building and building instead of the burning he expected to feel for a little bit at first. It's blinding and relentless—the pleasure and the way Yeosang thrusts his fingers in and out. The sounds of the lube squelching with every thrust back in.
"Feels—fuck! Feels so good, Y-Yeosang," San pants out as he feels Yeosang's fingers work him open from the inside out. Stretching him in ways San didn't even know was possible.
His cock leaks endlessly onto his abdomen, beads and beads of precum spurting from his tip every time Yeosang presses against that sweet spot. The coil in his gut is winding tighter and tighter, and San can feel its presence sneaking up on him at an alarming rate. A chorus of whines and whimpers bleed from his chest at the steady pace Yeosang keeps up with his fingers.
"I'm—'m gonna… cum… Y-Yeosang… Fuck!" San cries out as he writhes around, grinding his ass into Yeosang's hand to meet his thrusts.
"Go ahead," Yeosang says, his body leaning in to hover over San's slightly. "You've been such a good boy for me."
"N-No—!" San squeezes his eyes shut so tightly tears almost form as he tries to will away the incoming orgasm. "Wanna—ngh—wanna cum on your cock. Please, please… Don't—don't wanna cum y-yet."
It's instantaneous—the way San's orgasm is ripped away from him as soon as the words come from his mouth. Yeosang's fingers pull out of him at lightning speed, and San cries out from the feeling of nothing inside of him again. Except, it's so, so much worse this time. He had felt full to the brim with three of Yeosang's fingers that it's such a stark difference in comparison.
"Fuck, you drive me crazy, San," Yeosang says and it sounds like he's gritting his teeth. San can't see anything with his eyes shut, but he hears the sound of the condom's foil wrapper being ripped open and the soft moans spilling from Yeosang's lips. Presumably as he strokes himself before rolling the condom over and down his shaft. "I might not be able to hold myself back."
"'ts fine, I can take it," San says breathlessly.
Actually, he doesn't know if he can, but the thought of Yeosang, who has been nothing but gentle, pound into him with no remorse sends a shiver down his spine, and a twitch to his neglected cock. It's beginning to feel like a lot, but it's still so pleasurable at the same time.
Yeosang doesn't give a warning this time as he presses the head of his cock against San's entrance and breeches into it.
San really thought he would be prepared—to know what it felt like to have a cock in him, but oh he has never been so wrong. It feels nothing like he imagined, and nothing like the three fingers that were in him just a moment prior.
"You're so… Shit—you're so tight still," Yeosang comments as he stills. Noticing how San falls quiet beneath him as he adjusts to the new girth. He doesn't move in the time being, only halfway in, gauging San's reaction to all of this. "Are—are you okay?"
"Mm, just—" San's voice is weak in comparison to how it has been so far. Coming out nearly as a slur of words. "You're… So big…"
He knew this when he first felt Yeosang underneath of him, and even knew it the minute he saw the man butt-ass naked not too long ago, but still—it's not what he expected.
"M-Move," San says, his hand reaching out with nothing in mind to grasp at, but when Yeosang grabs at it with his own hand, he smiles.
"Are you sure?"
San nods his head and voices out a faint please.
And who is Yeosang to deny San when he asks so nicely.
The stretch is brutal as Yeosang pushes the rest of his way in, bottoming out once he reaches to the hilt. His pelvis coming in contact with San's rear. San nearly cries as he feels the burn surround his walls, but it's masked when Yeosang weakly keeps himself pressed against San. Yeosang stays there for a moment, allowing San to fully adjust before he drags himself back out, soft little groans following as he does so.
The sounds Yeosang makes sound so beautiful, and San can feel himself dripping from that alone. He can only imagine what pretty noises the man would make if their roles were reversed, and Yeosang was the one pressed into the mattress right now.
Even then, that could be a possibility now, if San were to ride him, but that's—that's too much to fathom right now when he can barely handle Yeosang taking the reigns.
Maybe another time… Like Yeosang had suggested.
The push back in is just as brutal as San expected, but it feels so fucking good. It borderlines on the edge of pain and ecstasy, and San can't get enough. He can't help the guttural groan that comes from him as Yeosang's cock drags against his walls and pushes against his prostate again.
It goes like this. Push in, pull out, and repeat. Slow and gentle, taking all the time in the world so San can adjust—even though he totally wasn't expecting Yeosang to hold back like he had mentioned. It seems that after all, the man is able to keep his softer side present in the moment.
"You're doing—ah—so good, baby," Yeosang tightens his grip on San's hand as he pushes back in and watches San writhe beneath him. "Taking me so well… Doing so good for your first time."
The words go straight to his dick again, and San whines over the sensation washing all over him.
Where his pleasure had been ripped away at the same time Yeosang's fingers ripped out of him, it's quickly rebuilding as Yeosang steadily increases his thrusts the more San relaxes around him. Unable to control the breathy whines and moans that flutter out of him with every rock of Yeosang's hips against him.
"Never felt—never felt s-so full before…" San moans when Yeosang rocks into him at just the right angle and nearly knocks the breath out of him.
It's not until Yeosang reaches over with his other hand and lightly wraps his hand around San's cock, does San realize just how neglected it has been this whole time. Where he stares down at the sudden contact, San can see how red and angry it is, and the amount of precum that pools in the divots of his abdomen from how worked up he got. Earlier, when Yeosang had been stretching him open, it finally dawns on San that he had nearly come without being touched and it adds to the fire burning in his gut.
Yeosang's hand wraps around him just like how it did earlier in the night, and fuck, San is sure he sees stars—even when his eyes are screwed shut during all of this.
Between the relentless pounding into him, and the hand working up and down his shaft, San knows he isn't going to last much longer. If the way his whines are increasing in volume with each thrust are anything to go by.
"You're so pretty," Yeosang says randomly, and San blushes from the suddenness of it. Though, he's sure the blush isn't noticeable from the way his entire body is covered in a flush. Even then, he tries to hide his face in the pillow beneath his head, but Yeosang doesn't let him—letting go of his hand in favor of keeping San's face looking at him. "D-Don't hide from me, baby. Wanna—wanna see how fucked out you are. H-How pretty you look on my cock."
Every single word only spurs him on, and brings the coil in his gut wrapped tighter and tighter around itself. The fire only growing in size and burning from the inside out. He can't even respond sensically—only allowing whatever noises his body naturally makes as a response instead.
The only thing that can be heard is the slapping of Yeosang's pelvis against San's ass, and whatever noises they make in response to the pleasure building in either of their bodies as a result.
Yeosang's hand had left San's face a long time ago and now both of them grip onto either side of San's hips, his fingertips digging into the bony, yet plush, surface. Keeping him in place as he thrusts relentlessly into San with a fervor San had not expected based on the way Yeosang had been treating him this entire night. He wasn't kidding when he said he might not be able to hold back, but it's also not like San had anticipated him to be lying with that statement, either.
San's cock is leaking uselessly again, and he can feel himself growing closer and closer with each thrust.
"I'm—'m not—o-oh, fuck—gonna last…" San squeaks out, his words matching with every time Yeosang pounds into his prostate directly. It's merciless, and San can feel the way Yeosang speeds up even more after his admission.
"Me—ah! Me n-neither, baby," Yeosang says, sounding out of breath, but still keeping up nonetheless. "You feel so good—wrapped around me. Squeezing me…Ah—I can't—"
It's the first time all night San has heard Yeosang sound like this, and it drives him crazy. That he's capable of making Yeosang sound drunk off of him and him alone. It's music to his ears and he's gonna die.
"T-Touch me," San begs, tears forming in his eyes. "Make—make me cum, Yeosang—ah—p-please—!"
And Yeosang doesn't hesitate to reach over and wrap his hand back around around San's rock-hard cock.
He feels like he's going to snap at any second—his breaths becoming more erratic as he chases his own release, and the second Yeosang touches him, it happens.
It washes over him so suddenly, catching him beyond off-guard that San can only scream out as Yeosang continues to thrust into him and work him through his orgasm with his hand still wrapped around San's cock. Spurts of come shoot from the head of his cock and they land all over his abdomen, chest, and even a dribble on his chin. His eyes screw shut from the immense amounts of pleasure that wrack through his body—bordering on the edge of nearly passing out from how overwhelming it is.
He squirms and writhes in every which way possible, his body unable to stay still as he rides out every last wave the orgasm has to offer. Finding himself completely spent after the fact, and laying there uselessly as Yeosang keeps up with his relentless pace—eager to follow in San's completion.
"O-Oh, shit—San—you're so… F-Fuck—!"
San can feel Yeosang still for half of a second before he can feel warmth spilling into the condom that separates him from Yeosang's cock, and it becomes far too much. Yeosang continues to milk every drop from his own relief while San cries from overstimulation at the same time. Even then, he wouldn't ever dare voice out the discomfort while Yeosang comes down from his own high.
It doesn't last too much longer anyway, and San can finally feel at peace when Yeosang comes to a halt in his movements—remaining buried deep in San, still. Weakly, Yeosang holds himself over San as they catch their breaths.
Their chests heave in unison while either recover for similar, but differing reasons. Delirium practically riddles San's head in the meantime, still coming down from his high. At the same time, Yeosang moves around him—pulling out, tying off the condom, and even leaving the bed for a few moments. To which San whines over the loss of contact, and Yeosang coos endearingly, promising that he'll be right back.
Normally, San isn't the one to be touched by the grace of sleep after having sex, but somehow, it's whispering against the shell of his ear right now in Yeosang's absence. Still, he fights it to the best of his ability.
"It's gonna feel cold," a voice calls out and San's eyes dart open, widening at the disturbance of the quietness that had polluted the room prior. Enough to actually lull him into a quick doze. "I'll be gentle though, I promise."
And fuck, Yeosang is right. Again.
The wipe against his boiling hot skin is freezing cold in comparison, but it almost feels good—relieving in a sense. Carefully, Yeosang wipes all over San, cleaning up whatever secretion, lubricant and maybe even sweat or saliva happened to pool on his skin. It feels like being kissed by Jack Frost and San tries not to squirm when Yeosang wipes over his aching hole, faint little gasps breathing out from the sensitivity.
"You did so well, baby," Yeosang coos as he pulls out one last wipe.
The whole night, Yeosang had called him that term of endearment, and it sent a new flush over his body every time. Even now, after-the-fact, it still does. There's something about it that causes San to feel squeamish in a way no other hook-up has ever made him feel—surely it's nothing though.
Still, throughout all of it, San fights the sleep off even more, but eventually he throws down the sword and shield when Yeosang makes an effort to untuck the comforter and direct San underneath of it, climbing in with him.
"You're not gonna kick me out?" San is sure he has a pout taut on his lips, but there's no chance in tucking it away. Not in his current stupor.
"Of course not," Yeosang says oh-so softly. His voice sounding like how velvet feels, and how butter melts against a toasted piece of bread. "I'm not some kind of monster that fucks someone and then kicks them to the curb—especially not when they're already falling asleep in my bed."
There's an even softer chuckle that follows after Yeosang's words, and San can't help the smile that tugs on his lips once the sound hits his ears.
"Besides, I'm a bit of a cuddler afterwards, if that's something you're okay with."
San peels his eyes open for longer than a second and just now realizes the distance between himself and Yeosang, frowning.
Tonight is breaking every normality San has when it comes to his experience of hooking up with people, but somehow, he welcomes every little bit of change with open arms. Much like how Yeosang is laying right now, expecting San to curl into his side and finally succumb to the much needed sleep.
"Mm, I'm more than okay with that."