He can picture it. Holding Kim Gaon down by the waist, taking as much of him as Yohan can, sucking him down into firm, wet heat with no other recourse than to give himself up to it. It's a pretty picture. It's heady. The power of having the other man at his mercy makes his head spin, desperate with his own desire. But he wants more. Wants to sink into him with all the same terrible insistence as he feels when they fight, the pull of their connection chaining them together. There will be time later to tease, there will be space to see how much he can wring out of Gaon. Neither of them have the patience for that now, urgency too sharp.
He pulls off with a pop, fingers squeezing the base of his cock as if to stave off something. Yohan presses the purse of his lips to the head once in a strangely reverent move, then levers himself up off of his stomach, letting go to crawl back up the length of Gaon's body. His lips are shiny with spit when he grins, wolfish, the front of his boxers damp with his own arousal. He curls a hand around the other man's jaw, thumb against his bottom lip, breath rough and panted. )
no subject
He can picture it. Holding Kim Gaon down by the waist, taking as much of him as Yohan can, sucking him down into firm, wet heat with no other recourse than to give himself up to it. It's a pretty picture. It's heady. The power of having the other man at his mercy makes his head spin, desperate with his own desire. But he wants more. Wants to sink into him with all the same terrible insistence as he feels when they fight, the pull of their connection chaining them together. There will be time later to tease, there will be space to see how much he can wring out of Gaon. Neither of them have the patience for that now, urgency too sharp.
He pulls off with a pop, fingers squeezing the base of his cock as if to stave off something. Yohan presses the purse of his lips to the head once in a strangely reverent move, then levers himself up off of his stomach, letting go to crawl back up the length of Gaon's body. His lips are shiny with spit when he grins, wolfish, the front of his boxers damp with his own arousal. He curls a hand around the other man's jaw, thumb against his bottom lip, breath rough and panted. )
Next time.
( A promise.
He ducks closer though, scant inches apart. )
Can I kiss you again, Gaon?