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It's driving him crazy.
In the most maddening way, it's becoming an obsession and a fucking curse.
And it's just one thing, so stupid, easy to ignore. Just look another way, don't get under the spell, forget you ever saw him do that goddamn thing… with his mouth.
But he's attached, Sungho wants to look. Wants to watch. Every time something goes inside Taesan's mouth, it means the awakening of the sickest thoughts. They run like blood trough his veins, blame his heart for beating so fast for something so minimal.
He stands still, every fucking time, numb hands and frozen eyes not being capable of look another way. For that moment, it's just him and whatever Taesan's putting in his mouth. Could be a pen, could be his hoodie's sleeve, even his own fingers. Wet, messy with saliva for the long time Taesan's spend with them inside.
Sometimes, Sungho is just a man with a fixation watching another man with another fixation. An he's going insane.
It's not like he hates Taesan, he's very kind most of the time they get to spend together. In their friend group, they aren't the closest and Sungho's pretty sure they'll never be. Just because Taesan has his favorite and so does Sungho. Between them, the bond is purely cause of their friends in common. They're not awkward with each other, Taesan is a talkative cat when he's comfortable with people and Sungho is a good listener. They blend pretty well.
The only problem is that Taesan has an oral fixation and it's starting to get on Sungho’s nerves, especially since it seems that this only affects him. Taesan isn’t to blame; Sungho wants to believe that he isn’t aware of it, that it just happened overnight and there’s nothing he can do to reverse it. But damn it, why is it so obvious these days?
Before, it never even crossed his mind to pay attention to Taesan’s lips, let alone to Taesan himself. He barely cared about Taesan’s existence before discovering that the boy loves to drool on his fingers for long periods of time while looking the other way, listening in on conversations he isn’t part of. That’s what annoys Sungho the most: Taesan’s supposed innocence.
And he wants to complain and tell him out loud to stop acting like a baby, but that would expose him, and damn it: how do you go on with your life when you even dream of stuffing that mouth of his until his oral fixation is completely gone from his system? To cure him of a disorder, even. Sungho daydreams about shoving anything between Taesan’s lips until it reaches his throat; maybe that’s where the switch is that will put an end to this madness, and then the psychology department should name him a legend.
He can’t stop thinking about it, just as Taesan can’t stop putting things in his mouth, and they’re both in trouble because (even if they don’t realize it) they’re the cause of each other’s problems.
Sungho considered stopping going to his friends’ meetings to avoid seeing Taesan keep the glass in his mouth for too long, staining it with saliva and dampening it with his breath. And damn it, still no one says anything to him about that behavior. Myung Jaehyun has his favorite little kitten right next to him, drooling on glasses or chewing on chopsticks for fucking hours, and it doesn’t even cross his mind to scold him.
Is he crazy? Is that the problem? Is he the only one who thinks it’s weird that Taesan runs his fingertips along the edges of his teeth, sometimes letting part of his tongue show? Is he the only one who notices it? Has everyone else happily accepted that Taesan has an oral fixation—except him? What’s worse… why the hell does it bother Sungho? It shouldn’t matter to him, but every time he looks in Taesan’s direction, he finds him with something in his mouth, and the sound starts to distort, and something in his body itches and-
The inside of his boxers starts to feel uncomfortable.
His cock twitches, and in his mind he measures whatever Taesan decides to put in his mouth. The five centimeters of that cookie won’t choke him like what Sungho has between his legs, but surely it will satisfy Taesan’s fixation for a moment.
He compares himself to everything that touches his tongue, and the madness doesn’t stop even when he jerk off in the shower, imagining those lips wrapped around his dick.
And that’s what it’s all about, he thinks as the cum flows down the drain, this obsession with Taesan’s oral fixation is only because I want to be the thing that chokes him. How disturbing, right? Next time I see him, I'll satisfy us both.
That happens faster than Sungho could have imagined; actually, the very next day, Leehan sends him a message asking if he’s in the mood to go to a new restaurant that Woohak has been wanting to visit since it opened. He asks who’s going, because he’s not going to waste a Saturday waiting for Taesan, and when Leehan confirms that everyone’s going, he agrees and, pretending his mouth isn’t watering, goes back to his video game.
The restaurant is cute and cozy, and when you walk in, it feels like you’re at the center of the earth. Sungho walks behind everyone as usual, and this time Taesan stays almost right beside him; neither of them says a word, as always, and they get ready to take their seats. Leehan drags Taesan along with him, and Sungho doesn’t even have to guess where he’ll end up when Jaehyun seats him right next to him. That’s how the dinner starts; bottles of alcohol keep arriving and are finished off as quickly as Woonhak downs them, amid jokes and shouts of satisfaction over his meal. They're is so loud that Sungho even forgets he has a mission that night.
The first time he sees him, Taesan has his chopsticks clamped between his front teeth, and in the gap he can see his pink tongue under the restaurant lights. Taesan isn’t looking at him as usual, but the tension at the table doesn’t ease as Sungho spreads his legs a little wider and leans back in his chair. That way, his feet are almost touching Taesan’s.
But it’s not enough to catch his attention, and that’s fine; because Sungho wants to figure out how much of this fixation is psychological and how much is just Taesan being a slut.
Dinner doesn't even matter anymore; the only thing Sungho can focus on is the wonderful things happening on Taesan's lips, teeth, and tongue. After the chopsticks came the rim of a glass; Taesan took a sip and left it pressed against his lower lip, running his tongue over the rim occasionally, and it was precisely on that edge that Sungho found himself as he adjusted the folds of his pants so they wouldn’t keep squeezing his crotch. His teeth clenched, his tongue swollen and heavy, his gaze heavy with desire—and Taesan still wasn’t looking in his direction. Fuck.
Finally, the last straw comes from Riwoo and his surprise when he tasted Leehan’s soup. Sitting to Taesan’s left, he urged him to try it.
“Take a sip, Dongminnie, it’s amazing!”
A spoonful of whitish liquid with very few vegetables to distract Sungho from his disgusting thoughts. Taesan turns to his left, finally sets the glass down on the table, and, with his arms crossed, leans toward Riwoo to open his mouth. His tongue is visible, the metal fogging up from Taesan’s breath, and a drop falls from the corner of his mouth onto his chin.
Sungho feels something snap inside him—the end of his sanity—when Taesan nods in agreement with Riwoo and turns toward him. Their eyes meet, and shit, Taesan catches the drop with two fingers and brings them to his mouth. He licks his fingertips and sucks on them, all while Sungho holds his breath and keeps staring at him. Wanting to kill him, to choke him with his cock, to show him what it really feels like to have something inside him.
In an instant, thousands of images filled his head, and all the blood rushed to his dick. Swallowing hard as if it were poison; raw and furious at having fallen completely for Taesan’s game, he didn’t take his eyes off him.
He keeps fighting it; he can still hold out for a few more seconds. Until Taesan smiles, his fingers still between his teeth, and Sungho tilts his head, standing up as if ready for a fight.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” he tells Jaehyun, patting him on the shoulder, but his eyes remain glued to the devil he leaves at the table as he walks toward the bathroom.
Breathing heavily, with pride in his hand and desire pulsing through his veins until it fills his erection.
He’d never been so turned on, never felt so much rage, never believed that a little game of seduction could drive him crazy like that. Weeks went by before he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror and brushed his bangs off his forehead with a heavy sigh. He had to calm down before Taesan walked in, or he’d greet him with his hand around his neck, and the more he thought about it, the more reasonable the idea seemed.
Taesan had been teasing him for weeks; he had every right to decide how this story would end. Where would it end, to be fair? In his mouth, on his face, around his neck? So many options.
He finally saw him in the reflection; he’d taken off his jacket and was now wearing only that t-shirt from a band he didn’t know and didn’t really care to know. The chains jingled on his pants, and Sungho wanted to laugh at him for putting on that tough guy act while about to be reduced by a blond whose features were mistaken for a woman’s.
“Was it funny?” he asked bluntly, turning to face the difference in their heights.
Taesan had an amused look on his face; he looked like an animal in the heat of the hunt, his pupils dilated, and if Sungho concentrated, he could hear his heart beating happily. He knew what was coming, and what bothered him most was that he craved it with every fiber of his fucking body. Everything about Taesan screamed at him to dominate him, to force his mouth open, and to shove whatever he wanted inside.
“Fucking with you? Of course. But to be honest, I expected anyone but you to figure out what I was doing. You were the first, and maybe the only one. It was so easy, Sungho.”
What wasn't going to be easy was regaining the use of his jaw once he was done with him.
Sungho clicked his tongue and wondered if Taesan knew he’d gone into the bathroom only to be reduced to cries that could be heard from the other corner. Because no one would ever think of Sungho as a violent person, but Taesan brought out the worst in him: the need to want something so badly it hurt.
And that something was Taesan.
“Yeah, maybe it was a little too easy,” he replies, taking a step forward that Taesan measures with his eyes. “We’re already here, aren’t we? So why don’t I try to cure you of that fucking fixation while we still can? I’d hate seeing you get prescribed something when I can make it go away right now.”
Sungho could see Taesan breathing through his mouth and his knees trembling. And it was so pathetic that it only turned him on even more.
To say he wanted to fuck him was too vague, not nearly enough. Sungho wanted to immerse himself in that body, in that mouth, and not come out until Taesan was cold. Maybe dead. He wanted to tear him apart from the inside, rearrange his organs, make him piss himself when his cock was already stimulated beyond the point of distinguishing between the urge to pee and the urge to come. He wanted to see him dripping everywhere, with his pants sticky and damp, glued to his body, his neck covered in bruises from teeth and hands, his eyes unfocused, and his mouth open once again; with no chance of ever closing again.
To abuse him so much that it would bring him to the end of his life. Was that a cruel thought? If he thought about it more, he’d feel sad about his death.
Where else would he find a whore this beautiful?
Sungho didn’t even kiss him; being gentle wasn’t part of his intentions. It would have been contradictory after everything that had gone through his mind when he saw him. It was gonna be painful for both of them to kiss, because Sungho would end up ripping his tongue out with his teeth. And he had big plans for that tongue.
“On your knees.”
Taesan didn’t even hesitate; he quickly knelt down and kept his eyes locked with Sungho’s.
“Since you like having things in your mouth so much…” he began, gripping Taesan’s jaw with his right hand and, using his deft left hand, lightly stroke Taesan’s lips with two fingers, “Why don’t you start with my fingers? After all the things you’ve put in your mouth these past few weeks, I’m sure you can handle this.”
The inside of Taesan’s mouth was exactly like Sungho had imagined, even better. His well trained incisors didn’t bother him; his tongue was soft and velvety, and he had two sharp canines that threatened to cut through skin. And that only turned Sungho on even more.
The scent between them was thick with lust, and the wetness that spread across Sungho’s index and ring fingers sent a chill through his entire body. Taesan sucked, never taking his eyes off him, almost as if he were reminding him of what he’d seen just a few minutes ago. Even maybe in an attempt to control his reaction, and Sungho considered slapping him hard enough to leave a red mark on his cheek. Taesan probably would have loved that.
He was seriously thinking about unzipping his pants and slapping the younger boy right in the face with his hard cock, but Taesan’s eyes were too mesmerizing. Trapped in the darkness of his pupils, for a moment Sungho forgot what it felt like to breathe as his fingernails scraped against the younger boy’s throat. God, he wanted to claw at him and make him spit blood, but that would probably ruin the moment.
He twisted his fingers so that their tips touched Taesan’s palate, slowly dragging them across it, and in a muffled moan; Taesan begged him not to. But Sungho pulled them out of their restraint anyway.
“You don’t even have a gag reflex anymore,” he said, slowly, whispering just so the words would sink deeper into Taesan’s mind, “At least that’ll be useful.“
Sungho didn’t even have to do it; Taesan’s nails dug into the jeans and pulled until they fell to Sungho’s ankles. He had saliva on his lips, as well as broken droplets forming patches on his chin, and if Sungho moved his hips just right, he’d soon have tears in his eyes, too.
First he stuck out his tongue—which was red by this point—and then buried his face in Sungho’s underwear. The dampness, combined with the sensation of Taesan sucking up the precum that had stained the center, made Sungho hiss and grab his head. Running his fingers through Taesan’s hair, he tugged, trying to pull him away, but Taesan refused to let go, soaking his clothes even more and smearing precum all over his nose and cheeks.
“You’re a fucking animal.”
Taesan’s teeth finally made contact, and Sungho groaned with a mixed feeling of excitement and fear when he thought Taesan was going to bite his cock off. But Taesan dragged them up to the elastic band and pulled it down to free his cock; still reeling from the shock, Sungho quickly felt the back of his throat.
And it was like meeting God and shaking His hand.
Impossibly deep, cutting off every source of oxygen, feeling Taesan’s nails on his thighs and the supernatural effort Taesan was making to move his tongue.
Tears welled up in his eyes but didn’t spill until Sungho took a sharp breath, grabbed a handful of Taesan’s hair to keep him still and quiet, and, voice full of disdain, said:
“We’re going to correct that little problem of yours, Han Taesan.”
There was no way he was going to answer, and he didn't wait for him to; he simply buried his cock inside until it hurt and began fucking the boy's mouth without hesitation. Whether it burned, whether the corners of his mouth hurt, whether his jaw went numb, or whether he couldn’t breathe; Sungho didn’t care. Every time he felt Taesan’s tongue wrap around the tip, his eyes rolled back, and the movements of his hips grew more violent.
Every possible fluid was running down to the neck of his t-shirt, and Sungho knew he’d never be able to read My Chemical Romance again without thinking about how it felt to have his balls slapping against Han Taesan’s chin.
The younger boy’s desperate gasps for air, the choked coughs, the sobs of pleasure and pain, the slurping sounds echoing throughout the bathroom. It would all haunt him, and Sungho couldn’t wait to jerk off to this later.
Harsh, violent, raw, unprotected, and disgustingly incredible and wet; Sungho knew there was no way he could hold out much longer, and it looked like Taesan was about to pass out from suffocation, with his mouth still wrapped around Sungho’s dick.
So he slowed down again; this time he grabbed the locks of his bangs, and Taesan slowly opened his eyes. His throat spasmed in a cough—something like a cry—and his watery eyes still pleaded for him not to stop.
So Sungho had no intention of disappointing him.
“Use your teeth.”
He didn’t even question it, and on the next thrust, Sungho felt Taesan’s incisors and canines dragging along his entire length. The shock coursed through his body, making him moan so loudly that they surely heard him from the kitchen. He freed his cock from Taesan’s greedy mouth and used the hand not gripping his hair to stroke himself once, twice, three times… until he came.
Long, sticky ropes fell right into his mouth, and Taesan was finally able to whimper in relief; as if he’d been fed after days without eating anything.
With heavy breathing and the air thick with condensation, Sungho grabbed a couple of napkins and wiped his dick before tucking it back into his pants. Noticing that the napkins could still absorb a little more, he looked over at Taesan, who was sitting on the floor trying to catch his breath, and reached for his chin again to start wiping it off.
“If you go out looking like that, I think they’ll know what happened.”
“I think everyone in this restaurant knows what happened.”
Sungho couldn’t help but laugh when he heard Taesan’s raspy voice.
“Drink some water when you get to the table,” he said, tossing the napkins into a trash can as he smoothed his hair in front of the mirror. “And if you promise not to give a blowjob to anything until we leave, I’ll do something about this.”
He lifted his foot, applying just a little pressure to Taesan’s crotch and listening to him whimper softly.
“Let’s go, you son of Freud.”