( Breath knocked out of him in a gust, the dark shape of his eyelashes fluttering briefly, his exhale ending in a laugh. Yohan's hips rock forward of their own accord, seeking that mean little touch in a way that has goosebumps erupting all along his skin, thighs prickling, shoulder blades tingling. He has to duck closer to claim Gaon's mouth again, an equally sharp bite to his plush bottom lip, tongue dragging over the hurt instinctively afterwards. They'll both be kiss swollen later, a fact that settles warmly in his gut, possessive. )
Stop distracting me.
( Muffled against Gaon's mouth, his breath still panted.
Yohan isn't sure he's ever been this turned on, wonders briefly if it's mostly a product of being out of practise, decides he doesn't care when he shifts to lick a glistening line of sweat from Gaon's throat, his hips rutting inelegantly against the palm of the other man's hand. ) Kim Gaon.
( Gravelly, another laugh sparking. Yohan reaches for that offending wrist, gets both in the trap of his own fingers, pins them flat to the bed too quick for a tussle. It helps that he shifts again, bodies aligning, cock against cock and the slow, agonising roll of his hips dragging them together. His hair has started to come loose now, falls into his eyes as he peers down at Gaon, lips parted. )
( there's something in the obscenity of this that gaon can't quite articulate, a hazy awareness of too many things at the same time that he feels all the way in his cheeks, a want so deep and visceral it's filled his entire body. he wants kang yohan to keep moving his hips like that, to work himself into losing control, to spill in gaon's hand, on his wrist and his fingers. he wants to watch yohan's face give into it, to see more of the way his eyes flutter, to see if it gets worse when he's overcome--
but yohan interrupts that train of thought, slowly percolating around the sting of the bite, and gaon twists against the hold instinctively, offended. he wants to protest, fingers curling in on themselves, missing the heat of yohan's cock and then everything stutters to a new kind of quiet.
it's a visible thing, the way his eyes cloud over, that haze of heat that pushes his head back into the bed as he rocks his hips up to meet yohan's. this is the real problem he's facing, as he swallows past a groan. there's too much. it's all good. he'd be happy with this. he wants more of it. he hitches his leg up over yohan's hip without having to think about it and his wrists twist in yohan's grip. )
Fuck--( a gust, an exhale, grated. he's never been fucked before and he thinks if he tried to deviate from it now he might actually die. but he whines all the same and writhes a little, a sinuous, hungry thing. ) Only if we do this-- ( lifting his hips, dragging their cocks together again. he can feel where there's precome smearing near the tip and he doesn't know if it's his or yohan's. ) This next time.
If Yohan were just an inch crueller he thinks he'd devise some way to keep him like this, sex drunk and stupid in his bed, trapped like a pretty little prisoner. He curses the past him for not foreseeing any of it, the wave of lust, the pink of Gaon's skin, the hunger that swells inside of him. Why did he waste time with other schemes when there could have been this? His hips stutter of their own accord, grip tightening hard enough to bruise. When he huffs out a laugh it sharpens his smile, gaze flickering wherever it can land on the other man's face, his flushed throat, the heaving of his chest. )
Next time. Any time. We'll do whatever we want, Kim Gaon.
( He won't be sated now.
But there's a more urgent matter at hand. Yohan has to resettle between his legs, bullying them apart with his own thighs, one hand finding the lube and the other curving around Gaon's cock for a singular mean little stroke before it slides away, curls around a knee to push it up towards Gaon's chest. ) If you want it like this I'm going to need your help, mm? Stay there.
( His teeth catch on the lid of the lube to yank it open, pouring some over his fingers, terrible smirk well in place. )
( he can feel the ghost of yohan's hands even as they let him go. his pulse pounds in the imprints of yohan's fingers and gaon immediately reaches for him, for that look in his eyes, for anything and everything. but yohan's leaning away and gaon's fingertips graze his shoulder, his forearm, just barely catch on his wrist and he hiccups a choked little noise, thrusting up into the space where yohan's hand had been.
he feels disjointed, too big for his skin. he's a mess of wants and aches, of bridled hunger come loose. he breathes too hard, too heavy, eyes on yohan's face as he resettles his hips against the bed, against the cradle of yohan's thighs, hand behind his own knee now to hold it up out of the way. if not for how badly he wants this he might feel the vulnerability in it, opening himself up so willingly. how is it one of the most dangerous places he could be right now, but simultaneously the most secure he's felt in years? he doesn't believe everything kang yohan says, doesn't agree with half of it, but this? well, it's obvious how he feels about this.
he'd let this man ruin him.
whether it's old adrenaline, the image of yohan dropping a lighter into fuel he'd poured that's burned into his memory, or the self-satisfied smirk on his face now, gaon doesn't realize there are words until they're already out of him, pitched low. )
Kang Yohan, I'm not fragile. ( a challenge. maybe an assurance. maybe he just wants it badly enough. maybe he just needs to make everything a fight, even lust-clouded and panting. )
( He sucks a noise in through his teeth, mock offended, glittering gaze lifting once to Gaon's face to give him a little quirk of his eyebrows. )
Does Kim Gaon think goading works on me?
( It doesn't. Not usually. Outside of this room Yohan is an endless wall against every kind of clever taunt there is. He's glacial, and impenetrable, an unpassable fjord. Except. Here and now, Gaon's fiery expression chips away at the distance, starts it melting like the sweat prickling down his spine. It's an almost unnoticeable shift, but he thinks he'll be feeling the consequences for years to come either way. An erosion of his defences, an irreversible drop in the ocean. Changing. It's instinct that has him huff out a breath, taking Gaon's other leg to manoeuvre it over Yohan's own hip, a caress of his palm only once. It's easier still to drag his greedy gaze down the length of Gaon's body, warm with want.
He takes his time, lets his eyes linger, mouth curling when Gaon shifts.
Slick fingers tease between his thighs, skate over his balls and press lightly to the soft skin behind them, a soft little curl of his touch before it moves on. It's almost meandering, but Yohan does not taunt right back. Instead two oiled digits tease against the rim of muscle, a narrow and focused concentration settling over his face. ) Breathe, Gaon.
( A reminder, as he pushes one inside. Slowly. Carefully, despite the other man's insistence that he's not breakable. He's sinfully tight, and Yohan feels him like a vice clamping down. Moisture prickles at his hairline, his exhale short. It feels like the fire all over again, the heat lapping, judgement clouding. But he won't let himself rush, not when Gaon makes a noise as he bypasses the first knuckle, stops short at the second. )
he doesn't realize he's forgotten to until yohan reminds him. he's not nervous. he's not worried. he thinks he should be more apprehensive about what's going on and he would be, if it wasn't an inevitability. if he hadn't spent so much time alone thinking about it, his teeth in his lip as he worked himself over the edge in the privacy of the shower, his bed, his own home. nothing he's ever imagined has compared to the reality of yohan's hands and the heat of his skin and that look in his eyes like he might consume gaon entirely if given half a chance.
the first push rolls his eyes closed, mouth open on a tight exhale, a huff of sound. his whole body rocks back with it, his thighs tensing, fingers biting in where he's holding on and he waits for, what? pain? it's the thought of it that's working him up now, kang yohan easing his way inside of him. his cock twitches as he pushes his shoulders back into the bed, fighting to keep himself still. )
Yeah. ( he's fine. he's great. he dips his chin to his chest to watch yohan through his lashes, cheeks flush with heat, and clenches tight around that finger, groaning his name. ) Kang Yohan.
( An answer to the call, pleasantly distracted. Yohan hovers over him with an expression bordering on obsessively intent, his gaze skittering over Gaon's face and down over his chest, to his sweetly leaking cock, the space where he's clinging to a singular finger now. He's a sight, and it makes him want too many things at once - to sink his teeth into Gaon's bare shoulder, maybe, to bend him in half, probably, to have everything all at once without care for the real world? Absolutely. )
Patience.
( It's maybe a taunt, a slight tease. He works that finger as carefully as he can, shifting his grip so that his thumb can slide over the sensitive skin of his perineum while he moves. Gaon is warm, a hot, sucking heat, and it's distracting enough that Yohan's thoughts are all narrowed down on just this, manipulating the other man's body to its own pleasure, slick digit pressing as high as he can get it before he pulls out again. The second is a tighter squeeze. Yohan's breath rattles through his teeth as he presses them both inside, slowly, so slow it feels agonising, the heat in the room inching higher. )
Kim Gaon. ( An exhale, the tight stretch making him forget himself. ) Fuck. Relax for me.
( they're not even anywhere. they've barely done anything. gaon's taken girls to bed before but it's never been anywhere near as intense as this is already. whether it's the events of the night already or the weeks and weeks of buildup, gaon feels too worked up for where they are. it's kang yohan's fault either way. he's a study in demolishing any understanding gaon had of himself before yohan and now it's a new monster entirely, dedicating itself to his undoing.
one finger was fine. an intrusion, maybe. two is another story and gaon's whole body arches up with it, a breath shaking out of him. he can feel the muscle stretching to accommodate, struggling against it, and he draws a deep breath in through his nose that fills his chest, holds it as he tries to convince his body to relax. it happens in increments, his face scrunching in concerted effort; he wraps his free hand loose around his cock and strokes it once, twice, thumb over the head as he shakily exhales. )
Your hands. ( muttered mostly to himself, his eyes closed, chased by another big breath in. but it's working and when gaon clenches on yohan's fingers again there's a noticeable difference when he lets up, though he still feels the stretch all the way to the soles of his feet. ) Touch me.
( Underneath all that insufferable teasing there's something new in Yohan's voice, a tender kind of strain in his words, his focus on Gaon and Gaon alone. Still, taunt delivered he's quick to knock the other man's hand away from his cock, replace it with his own, fingers wrapping too tight as he spears him further onto the fingers of his other hand, laughing a little when Gaon's spine bows with it. ) Aish, you're getting what you want, aren't you?
( Immediately that cruel edge is replaced though, like the sting of a biting kiss soothed over. Yohan's wrist twists to move his fingers slow but deep, touch stretching. He breathes through his own arousal, smearing precome over the flushed head of Gaon's cock with deliberate intent, enjoying the sticky mess of it all. )
Does it feel good? ( Voice dipping low as his fingers pull almost all the way out, the rim of Gaon's hole tightening around him before he pushes back inside again, a hum before his next words. ) Tell me, Gaon. Am I making you feel good?
Yah-- ( but it's quiet, soft, protest for the sake of protest as his attention dials in. he's getting what he wants. he's getting so much he's already overwhelmed by it, yohan's hands in concert, sparking too much in him at once. diabolical. cruel.
it's nothing less than he expected and yet it's so much more than he could have guessed. right and wrong in the same breath. suffering for it, now. thriving.
his leg lists, forgotten, grip loose under his knee as yohan slides his fingers back in and gaon's whole body rolls up with it. it's a terrible, wondrous fucking thing, a burn of an ache that nearly chokes him, sets sweat beading under his arms, at the base of his spine. he's seen yohan's hands do so much and this feels like a whole new threat, opening up to him, letting him see the effect of it. but it's impossible not to and he tips his head to the side as his hips rut down to meet yohan's fingers again, chin into his shoulder as he breathes.
he forgets to answer, distracted, hand splayed flat against his stomach where it trembles with the strain of trying to stay relaxed. )
I'll take that as a yes. ( Voice low, dripping with honey. It feels good, this orchestration of Gaon's body. He's a conductor of it, fingers deep and stretching, slick with lube and warmed with the heat of the other man's body, narrow gaze watching the way he twitches and twists, committing it to memory. ) Ah, Kim Gaon, you should see how you look right now.
( Yohan's approval is thick in his words, genuine arousal as he strokes his cock, body bowed to Gaon's own like a flower in the sun. Because Gaon is beautiful like this, the flash of his eyes, the pink of his skin, the glistening sheen of sweat that makes something stupid and feral ping in Yohan's brain. He looks like a feast. He looks like a fantasy. Yohan's hand shakes when he lifts it away from Gaon's cock, tongue clucking as he shushes him. It's only to find the lube again, fingers halfway out and pouring more to ease the desperate slide. )
Do you think you could take another? ( Voice hoarse, husky. Pitched with it's own terrible earnestness. ) I think you could. If you want my cock you'll have to.
( it's not really a moment of pause but gaon takes it that way all the same, a restless hand sweeping down to squeeze the head of his own cock where yohan's given him up. just once. just enough to edge a little hiccup of a breath out of him, surfacing up out of the shallows of his own mind to blink at yohan, bleary-eyed and red-cheeked. unsure for a second, but then his chin dips in a nod because what else can he say?
yohan looms over him like he might consume him, awash in dim golden light, something wholly born of fire and sent to flay him open, to find his softest parts. gaon swallows hard at the look on yohan's face, the light in his eyes, and his hips shift again as he lifts his leg and lets it drop over yohan's shoulder with a heaving breath, sweaty skin sticking where they touch. )
Another one. ( badly croaked, a match to yohan's voice in a way he likes too much as he hitches his hips down, tries to take yohan's fingers deeper inside him. ) More.
( Another burst of a breath as Gaon rearranges himself, Yohan turning his face to drag his teeth along the curve of his knee, tongue darting out to taste the salt once. It's almost tender, even with the sharp promise in it. It's clear he approves, gaze dropping back to Gaon and his flushed cock, his sweat sheened skin, the lovely tapestry spread before him like a feast. He wants to commit it to memory so badly he feels frantic with it, eyes dark as they travel, lifting finally back to Gaon's own and catching it. )
Oh, so now you're coherent enough to be able to make demands? ( Holding his fingers there, a deliberate lingering. ) I'll work on that.
( It's perhaps a warning all in itself, Yohan's wrist tendons tensing before he pushes his fingers deeper. He breathes at the same time as Gaon gasps, the sharp whistle of it an aroused echo. Muscles clench around his touch, desperate, and he makes another agonised sound as his free hand settles on the pillow beside Gaon's head, leaning forward enough that he must feel the stretch in his thigh, the way it lifts his hips. )
There we go. Relax for me. ( A murmur, the slow push and pull of his fingers. His hands are not small by any stretch of the imagination and he knows Gaon can feel it, the way they press up nice and deep, searching for the place that will make him squirm the most. His focus settles on Gaon's face as he does so, watching it with bright attentiveness, stretching him out to the sound of their breathing, the slick noise of the lube. ) You're still so tight.
( he doesn't recognize the sound it pushes out of him, a garbled heave of a breath that forces all the air from his lungs. it's so much, too much, a panicked, scrambling sensation only just tempered by yohan himself. the breadth of him, the smell, the heat radiating off his skin. he trusts that yohan wouldn't push him too far, that this flaring ache is what they want out of this and it's fine. gaon twists against the bed, head thrown back into the pillow, mouth fallen open as yohan presses deeper.
a hand fits between their bodies, fingers suddenly digging hard into yohan's wrist. he doesn't think it's to stop him, but he's not thinking very clearly at the moment. it's not bad, it's just overwhelming in a way he didn't understand it might be and he groans long and low, his thighs twitching, trying to relax, to breathe.
his eyes crack open just enough to see yohan, blurred through wet lashes, so close now, this tangle of their bodies creating this little space between them. he starts to say something, he doesn't know what, but yohan's fingers press just deep enough, at the right angle, and a jerking, full body shiver tears through him with a cry he doesn't have time to swallow, followed by a litany of low cursing. )
Kang Yohan.
( plaintive. reprimanding. the whine in his voice is all breath gone staccato as he pants, twisting a hand into the pillowcase beside his head until it's taut. none of it means stop. )
( His voice, strained around the edges, breathless, dips lower into something soothing, care writ in each of the syllables. It occurs to him a little too late that he hadn't even asked if Gaon had done this before, or how long it had been. He thinks he can be forgiven for the haste though, they'd both been caught up in it. So he bites it back, instead focuses on easing the way, inching his fingers in and out as slowly but as firmly as he can. )
Kim Gaon, you're taking my fingers so nicely. You're doing good. There we go. It will feel better soon. Breathe for me, mm?
( He draws his touch almost to the rim again, teasing the pads of his fingertips against the muscle before he slides them solidly back in. Now that he's found the place that inspires such a whine he can't help but brush his touch against that again, watching the spark shiver throughout. Against his shoulder Gaon's leg flexes, Yohan hums a little, clear delight unwinding. )
Pretty. ( He watches him with dark eyes, breath gusting over his cheek. ) Kim Gaon, look at me. Focus on me.
( it takes him a moment to claw his way back. he's lost in the rush of heat, a cascade effect from the center out that washes through him in waves from where yohan's fingers press deep. it's a dangerous thing for kang yohan, of all people, to have found. he's just been granted a weapon and gaon's too far gone already to properly defend himself against it. he forces his eyes open, dazed a half-second before he gathers himself enough to find yohan's face through the haze. )
What--?
( but it's soft, a breath of a sound as gaon blinks up at him slowly. yohan's so close like this, right here. gaon's hand moves from yohan's wrist to push his fingers up through yohan's hair, lifting it off his face, only half-aware he's doing it because it's hard to focus beyond the stretch, the arousal hot in his cheeks, the strain in his thigh. he can feel sweat at his temples as his body moves of its own accord, desperately seeking more of yohan's fingers, chasing whatever it can get from him. )
( The smile that blooms to life across his features is a quick to blaze thing. He wouldn't have been able to stop it even if he wanted to. It sparks into place the minute Gaon lifts hazy eyes Yohan's way and stays there, the white of his teeth on show with each desperate inhale. ) Ah, look at you. How am I supposed to be sensible now I know how nicely you cling to me?
( His fingers stretch, plunging deeper, curl against Gaon's walls at his furthest reach. He's still hot, still sinfully tight, Yohan can feel him twitching helplessly in pleasure, his free hand coming up to curve around his cock, more something for him to push up against that any real orchestrated effort to jerk him off, that smile turning far too pleased. It's clear he has been given some kind of power, awash with the heady desire of it. )
Do you know I've thought about this? ( Something obvious, considering how often Yohan has harassed him. But he wants it said anyway. ) About taking you to my bed. About fucking you. ( At this, his fingers find Gaon's sweet spot again, press more firmly. ) About how I might banish every clever thought from your head. I didn't think it would take only this, Kim Gaon, but I like it.
( he chokes on the breath he's trying to take, jerking away from yohan's fingers so violently his whole body twists against the bed. a hand scrambles to find yohan's arm, fingers digging in just above the elbow hard enough he might bruise and he holds himself there, body angled, thighs tensed, hips rolling that spot against yohan's fingers again and again, almost mindlessly chasing the sensation of it. he's not as aggressive about as yohan is, quick little cants that ripple through him and build in intensity. )
I haven't...
( done this before? trailing off, barely there, too preoccupied. there's too many words to take in. vaguely he's aware that there might be something bordering an insult somewhere between them, but he can't hold onto any of them long enough to piece it together. there's too much going on, too many chemicals dumping into his body one after another tonight, and he's never felt his body work like this before, never explored the intricacies of any of this. he'll have time to reflect on it later, now he's dragging a restless hand down his face, overwhelmed, cock leaking precome against his belly, yohan's fingers. )
Slow down-- ( gasping, digging a heel into yohan's back, not actually a protest but a warning muffled behind his palm. he doesn't want to admit to it, doesn't want to give yohan the satisfaction so quickly, but if he keeps this up gaon isn't going to last much longer. )
( He does as commanded, intent inching to a crawl, the barest brush of his touch as he hovers over Gaon, head tipped to one side, watchful. )
Could I make you come like this?
( The question unfurls, curiosity warm in his mouth. His fingers move slowly, passing light over the smooth bundle of nerves there. It's not quite a tease, not exactly a taunt, and yet because it is Yohan it carries its own threat. He considers it for a moment, the idea that he might work Gaon into a state just from his hands alone. Could he do it without touching his cock? Would it wreck them both to find out? His breath passes in an amused puff, but then he's leaning closer again, the hand around his length shifting instead to stroke those messy fingertips against his stomach, curving below his ribs so that Yohan can balance. The kiss he presses to Gaon's sweaty hairline is indulgent, so too is the one that trails down his nose, catching his mouth in a singular press.
He needs to focus. )
Another time. ( A murmured promise, his fingers returning to their steadfast easing of the way. Gaon is still tight, he's probably too tight. Yohan shushes him without thinking, exhale low and settling. ) You can relax for me, can't you? I know you can. Just breathe, in and out. It feels good now, it will feel better later.
( he could. he might, if he keeps trying. gaon groans to himself, stumbling towards something that might be embarrassment if he thought yohan might actually ridicule him for it. his cheeks are hotter suddenly regardless. he's aware of too much. he drags his wrist against his eye like he might hide behind it even as yohan's leaning over him and he still manages to thrill under the kiss, the attention, pleased. on edge. too many things at the same time.
it's easier like this. less overwhelming. gaon can sink back into the pillow and breathe again as the urgency ebbs, though the intent still licks up his spine, roars in the background. he watches yohan with half-lidded eyes, hand dragging down his chest as he forcibly slows his hips into something more intentional, purposeful. he breathes deep, slow, lung-filling breaths and it's a noticeable shift when he finds a rhythm, a match, angling down just-so to meet yohan's fingers as he sinks them in. and that's shattering in its own way, the first time they really align, the way the ache gives way to something jarring in a new way, bone-rattling, life-altering.
he half-laughs his way through a moan on the next thrust and his attention shifts from the orchestration of it to how to repeat it, how to match yohan's thrust. his thighs tense, the lower one drawing yohan closer, the higher one using him as leverage as he tries to find the right balance of what he wants and what his body is gradually allowing. )
You relax. ( it's still hard to get words out but he's not as muddled now. ready to pick a fight. ) This is easier for you.
No. ( A brief protest, on a shuddering exhale. He understands what Gaon means, that Yohan is in a specific position of power here, shifting the other man's body into whichever space he desires, toying with him in a way that borders on mean. It's so intent that it should be easy, but he breathes on the next breath, sweat prickling at his temple. ) I don't think you know how much I really want you.
( The physicality is simple. He might be out of practice but it is muscle memory, and Gaon reacts so beautifully that Yohan is honed to it. He softens his touch again, the slightest of strokes, the more purposeful in and out of his fingers, the glide of his mouth when it seizes on Gaon's bare throat. But there's something sharp and thorny in his chest as they move together, it is an understanding that he is pushing himself deeper into the thicket instead of a clean extraction. And maybe any other time he would have told himself that it was for a reason. He needs Gaon on his side. But this? This is only instinct. This is inevitable.
His fingers move, and Gaon shifts against them. Deeper, and easier each time. Yohan watches his face, the way the strain starts to fade, the way the pink flush turns less furious and more a simmering tension. He brushes his fingertips against the nerves again, more daring. )
Do you think you could take me now, jagiya? ( Teasing, again. ) Do you want me?
( maybe he doesn't understand. it's not as though this thing between them has ever felt one-sided, or that gaon believes that yohan has been knowingly leading him down a path to this inevitable conclusion, but there is a power dynamic here. and maybe it's yohan and the way he keeps all his cards so close to his chest, plays moves ahead at every opportunity--how could this be exempt? it catches him off guard, a little hitch of breath at the realization that yohan isn't as in control here as he is everywhere else. that this is an undoing, yohan shaken loose of pretense.
it's an intimacy he's ironically not prepared for, given where yohan's fingers are.
he pushes his fingers up to curl into yohan's hair again, tight at the back of his head. it's almost a caress on the way there, something tender in it as he swallows past the wealth of feelings building in his chest and lets yohan work him open. )
Aii.( slow, groaning, a double-hike of his hips at the touch, a stutter of sensitivity. he clenches hard around yohan's fingers as he goes to draw them out again, slowing the next push back in. ) Who's jagiya? Me? Aish. ( warmth blooming, heat in his cheeks regardless. they're on the precipice of something here and he wants it badly enough he can taste it, hunger in the back of his throat strong enough it thickens his words to a demand. ) I want you.
( There's no reason for the relief. They both clearly have the desire for this, the need for each other rocketing past any common sense. Gaon is a livewire of want beneath him, his cock hard and leaking against his belly, chest heaving with each breath. But to hear it plainly brings a shaking exhale, a smile that shows the edge of Yohan's canines, his body shifting on the mattress to work his fingers slowly another few eager pushes, lingering strokes that inch the longing higher. )
Then let me give you what you want, Kim Gaon.
( His voice a murmur, spare hand lifting to press against Gaon's sternum as he eases his touch free. He makes his own similar mournful sound at the perceived loss, already missing the clench of heat once its gone. It means he can't help himself when he leans in to press a kiss to Gaon's mouth, firm and intent, a quick and impatient press before he's muttering against his lips. ) Let me make you feel good.
( He has to lean back to reorientate himself, his own hands finally and impatiently divesting himself of his underwear. Yohan moves with strange grace, clumsy with lust one minute, remembering himself the next. He's always quick to come back to touching Gaon though, one hand on his calf as he searches for the lube, then sliding back up past his knee, soothing. The bottle discovered, he also drags the condoms closer too, focus flickering between both Gaon and his task. )
( it's a reprieve he's glad for even if he doesn't want it. there's room to breathe suddenly, less pressure inside and out. he doesn't think he's felt quite this specific flavour of want before, this space between, watching yohan with lidded eyes, anticipating what's to come. he's not still even like this, hips shifting as yohan moves, seeking out pleasure lost in a way that makes it worse somehow. he didn't know he needed it before, now he's adrift without it.
he's only half-aware of what's going on. his hand slides down to wrap his fingers around himself, stroking slowly, loose-gripped, tongue wetting his lips as he watches the light play across yohan's skin, the way his body stretches, the shine of sweat. there's something artistic about it in a way he can't name, a painting come to life, the way yohan keeps looking at him like he can't help it, like he can't stop. that's what he's wanted, isn't it? to be the center of yohan's focus. to have that carefully honed attention on him?
he makes a noise to himself at the understanding and he shifts, head tipping to see what yohan's looking for just for the distraction, to redirect his own mind. there's something snapping at his heels, a mild hysteria at the build up, something tight in his throat and he steals the condoms out from under yohan's hand. he doesn't know what he's doing. he's too deep in this now. the want is buried so deep inside him that there's no other option, no other way this could go, and he meets yohan's eye for a split second, a dare, before he tosses the condoms off the other side of the bed. )
I want you. ( lower, intent, pointed. rough with something purposeful as he hooks his fingers behind yohan's jaw to drag him down into a kiss. ) Kang Yohan.
( It would have stilled him, had Gaon not immediately pulled him closer. As it is all that's left is for Yohan to kiss him back, clumsy as his mind catches up. It's clear when his thoughts do though, a startled laugh muffled against Gaon's mouth, lips stretching into a smile where they're pressed. ) All right, all right.
( Any other person and he might have hesitated, but then again, any other person and he might not have been here. The want he has is specialised, specific, a terribly pointed and damning thing. But if Yohan has decided he will start trusting him elsewhere, then surely this too? It's a mutual faith either way, something equally ruinous. One that has the fire of his desire blazing too hot, too soon. Yohan hums, pressing his forehead to Gaon's shoulder for a moment, sweaty skin against sweaty skin. His inhale comes sharp between his teeth. )
Kim Gaon. ( Rough, the agony of his arousal a shuddering thing. His hands skate, slide against Gaon's hips, and then he's leaning back up, focused again. His grip manhandles the other man to his own preferences, legs on either side of his own thighs, yanking him a little further down the bed. His gaze is a flaring thing, slipping down the length of Gaon's body with a ravenous hunger, fingers grasping the lube to slick up his own cock with breathless anticipation. It's short movement, fast, the jittering desperation spurring him on. Then it is only shuffling between their bodies, closer, manoeuvring Gaon's legs around his waist and tilting his pelvis up with Yohan's hands on his hips. ) All right?
( They settle together, breathing rough. Yohan lets one hand drift to curve around his own cock, a singular stroke of his touch before he shifts to line the up, press the blunt head against Gaon's entrance. )
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Stop distracting me.
( Muffled against Gaon's mouth, his breath still panted.
Yohan isn't sure he's ever been this turned on, wonders briefly if it's mostly a product of being out of practise, decides he doesn't care when he shifts to lick a glistening line of sweat from Gaon's throat, his hips rutting inelegantly against the palm of the other man's hand. ) Kim Gaon.
( Gravelly, another laugh sparking. Yohan reaches for that offending wrist, gets both in the trap of his own fingers, pins them flat to the bed too quick for a tussle. It helps that he shifts again, bodies aligning, cock against cock and the slow, agonising roll of his hips dragging them together. His hair has started to come loose now, falls into his eyes as he peers down at Gaon, lips parted. )
Don't you want me to fuck you?
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but yohan interrupts that train of thought, slowly percolating around the sting of the bite, and gaon twists against the hold instinctively, offended. he wants to protest, fingers curling in on themselves, missing the heat of yohan's cock and then everything stutters to a new kind of quiet.
it's a visible thing, the way his eyes cloud over, that haze of heat that pushes his head back into the bed as he rocks his hips up to meet yohan's. this is the real problem he's facing, as he swallows past a groan. there's too much. it's all good. he'd be happy with this. he wants more of it. he hitches his leg up over yohan's hip without having to think about it and his wrists twist in yohan's grip. )
Fuck--( a gust, an exhale, grated. he's never been fucked before and he thinks if he tried to deviate from it now he might actually die. but he whines all the same and writhes a little, a sinuous, hungry thing. ) Only if we do this-- ( lifting his hips, dragging their cocks together again. he can feel where there's precome smearing near the tip and he doesn't know if it's his or yohan's. ) This next time.
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If Yohan were just an inch crueller he thinks he'd devise some way to keep him like this, sex drunk and stupid in his bed, trapped like a pretty little prisoner. He curses the past him for not foreseeing any of it, the wave of lust, the pink of Gaon's skin, the hunger that swells inside of him. Why did he waste time with other schemes when there could have been this? His hips stutter of their own accord, grip tightening hard enough to bruise. When he huffs out a laugh it sharpens his smile, gaze flickering wherever it can land on the other man's face, his flushed throat, the heaving of his chest. )
Next time. Any time. We'll do whatever we want, Kim Gaon.
( He won't be sated now.
But there's a more urgent matter at hand. Yohan has to resettle between his legs, bullying them apart with his own thighs, one hand finding the lube and the other curving around Gaon's cock for a singular mean little stroke before it slides away, curls around a knee to push it up towards Gaon's chest. ) If you want it like this I'm going to need your help, mm? Stay there.
( His teeth catch on the lid of the lube to yank it open, pouring some over his fingers, terrible smirk well in place. )
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he feels disjointed, too big for his skin. he's a mess of wants and aches, of bridled hunger come loose. he breathes too hard, too heavy, eyes on yohan's face as he resettles his hips against the bed, against the cradle of yohan's thighs, hand behind his own knee now to hold it up out of the way. if not for how badly he wants this he might feel the vulnerability in it, opening himself up so willingly. how is it one of the most dangerous places he could be right now, but simultaneously the most secure he's felt in years? he doesn't believe everything kang yohan says, doesn't agree with half of it, but this? well, it's obvious how he feels about this.
he'd let this man ruin him.
whether it's old adrenaline, the image of yohan dropping a lighter into fuel he'd poured that's burned into his memory, or the self-satisfied smirk on his face now, gaon doesn't realize there are words until they're already out of him, pitched low. )
Kang Yohan, I'm not fragile. ( a challenge. maybe an assurance. maybe he just wants it badly enough. maybe he just needs to make everything a fight, even lust-clouded and panting. )
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Does Kim Gaon think goading works on me?
( It doesn't. Not usually. Outside of this room Yohan is an endless wall against every kind of clever taunt there is. He's glacial, and impenetrable, an unpassable fjord. Except. Here and now, Gaon's fiery expression chips away at the distance, starts it melting like the sweat prickling down his spine. It's an almost unnoticeable shift, but he thinks he'll be feeling the consequences for years to come either way. An erosion of his defences, an irreversible drop in the ocean. Changing. It's instinct that has him huff out a breath, taking Gaon's other leg to manoeuvre it over Yohan's own hip, a caress of his palm only once. It's easier still to drag his greedy gaze down the length of Gaon's body, warm with want.
He takes his time, lets his eyes linger, mouth curling when Gaon shifts.
Slick fingers tease between his thighs, skate over his balls and press lightly to the soft skin behind them, a soft little curl of his touch before it moves on. It's almost meandering, but Yohan does not taunt right back. Instead two oiled digits tease against the rim of muscle, a narrow and focused concentration settling over his face. ) Breathe, Gaon.
( A reminder, as he pushes one inside. Slowly. Carefully, despite the other man's insistence that he's not breakable. He's sinfully tight, and Yohan feels him like a vice clamping down. Moisture prickles at his hairline, his exhale short. It feels like the fire all over again, the heat lapping, judgement clouding. But he won't let himself rush, not when Gaon makes a noise as he bypasses the first knuckle, stops short at the second. )
money faaaaace
he doesn't realize he's forgotten to until yohan reminds him. he's not nervous. he's not worried. he thinks he should be more apprehensive about what's going on and he would be, if it wasn't an inevitability. if he hadn't spent so much time alone thinking about it, his teeth in his lip as he worked himself over the edge in the privacy of the shower, his bed, his own home. nothing he's ever imagined has compared to the reality of yohan's hands and the heat of his skin and that look in his eyes like he might consume gaon entirely if given half a chance.
the first push rolls his eyes closed, mouth open on a tight exhale, a huff of sound. his whole body rocks back with it, his thighs tensing, fingers biting in where he's holding on and he waits for, what? pain? it's the thought of it that's working him up now, kang yohan easing his way inside of him. his cock twitches as he pushes his shoulders back into the bed, fighting to keep himself still. )
Yeah. ( he's fine. he's great. he dips his chin to his chest to watch yohan through his lashes, cheeks flush with heat, and clenches tight around that finger, groaning his name. ) Kang Yohan.
any time i mention a face it's money face
( An answer to the call, pleasantly distracted. Yohan hovers over him with an expression bordering on obsessively intent, his gaze skittering over Gaon's face and down over his chest, to his sweetly leaking cock, the space where he's clinging to a singular finger now. He's a sight, and it makes him want too many things at once - to sink his teeth into Gaon's bare shoulder, maybe, to bend him in half, probably, to have everything all at once without care for the real world? Absolutely. )
Patience.
( It's maybe a taunt, a slight tease. He works that finger as carefully as he can, shifting his grip so that his thumb can slide over the sensitive skin of his perineum while he moves. Gaon is warm, a hot, sucking heat, and it's distracting enough that Yohan's thoughts are all narrowed down on just this, manipulating the other man's body to its own pleasure, slick digit pressing as high as he can get it before he pulls out again. The second is a tighter squeeze. Yohan's breath rattles through his teeth as he presses them both inside, slowly, so slow it feels agonising, the heat in the room inching higher. )
Kim Gaon. ( An exhale, the tight stretch making him forget himself. ) Fuck. Relax for me.
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( they're not even anywhere. they've barely done anything. gaon's taken girls to bed before but it's never been anywhere near as intense as this is already. whether it's the events of the night already or the weeks and weeks of buildup, gaon feels too worked up for where they are. it's kang yohan's fault either way. he's a study in demolishing any understanding gaon had of himself before yohan and now it's a new monster entirely, dedicating itself to his undoing.
one finger was fine. an intrusion, maybe. two is another story and gaon's whole body arches up with it, a breath shaking out of him. he can feel the muscle stretching to accommodate, struggling against it, and he draws a deep breath in through his nose that fills his chest, holds it as he tries to convince his body to relax. it happens in increments, his face scrunching in concerted effort; he wraps his free hand loose around his cock and strokes it once, twice, thumb over the head as he shakily exhales. )
Your hands. ( muttered mostly to himself, his eyes closed, chased by another big breath in. but it's working and when gaon clenches on yohan's fingers again there's a noticeable difference when he lets up, though he still feels the stretch all the way to the soles of his feet. ) Touch me.
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( Underneath all that insufferable teasing there's something new in Yohan's voice, a tender kind of strain in his words, his focus on Gaon and Gaon alone. Still, taunt delivered he's quick to knock the other man's hand away from his cock, replace it with his own, fingers wrapping too tight as he spears him further onto the fingers of his other hand, laughing a little when Gaon's spine bows with it. ) Aish, you're getting what you want, aren't you?
( Immediately that cruel edge is replaced though, like the sting of a biting kiss soothed over. Yohan's wrist twists to move his fingers slow but deep, touch stretching. He breathes through his own arousal, smearing precome over the flushed head of Gaon's cock with deliberate intent, enjoying the sticky mess of it all. )
Does it feel good? ( Voice dipping low as his fingers pull almost all the way out, the rim of Gaon's hole tightening around him before he pushes back inside again, a hum before his next words. ) Tell me, Gaon. Am I making you feel good?
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it's nothing less than he expected and yet it's so much more than he could have guessed. right and wrong in the same breath. suffering for it, now. thriving.
his leg lists, forgotten, grip loose under his knee as yohan slides his fingers back in and gaon's whole body rolls up with it. it's a terrible, wondrous fucking thing, a burn of an ache that nearly chokes him, sets sweat beading under his arms, at the base of his spine. he's seen yohan's hands do so much and this feels like a whole new threat, opening up to him, letting him see the effect of it. but it's impossible not to and he tips his head to the side as his hips rut down to meet yohan's fingers again, chin into his shoulder as he breathes.
he forgets to answer, distracted, hand splayed flat against his stomach where it trembles with the strain of trying to stay relaxed. )
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( Yohan's approval is thick in his words, genuine arousal as he strokes his cock, body bowed to Gaon's own like a flower in the sun. Because Gaon is beautiful like this, the flash of his eyes, the pink of his skin, the glistening sheen of sweat that makes something stupid and feral ping in Yohan's brain. He looks like a feast. He looks like a fantasy. Yohan's hand shakes when he lifts it away from Gaon's cock, tongue clucking as he shushes him. It's only to find the lube again, fingers halfway out and pouring more to ease the desperate slide. )
Do you think you could take another? ( Voice hoarse, husky. Pitched with it's own terrible earnestness. ) I think you could. If you want my cock you'll have to.
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yohan looms over him like he might consume him, awash in dim golden light, something wholly born of fire and sent to flay him open, to find his softest parts. gaon swallows hard at the look on yohan's face, the light in his eyes, and his hips shift again as he lifts his leg and lets it drop over yohan's shoulder with a heaving breath, sweaty skin sticking where they touch. )
Another one. ( badly croaked, a match to yohan's voice in a way he likes too much as he hitches his hips down, tries to take yohan's fingers deeper inside him. ) More.
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Oh, so now you're coherent enough to be able to make demands? ( Holding his fingers there, a deliberate lingering. ) I'll work on that.
( It's perhaps a warning all in itself, Yohan's wrist tendons tensing before he pushes his fingers deeper. He breathes at the same time as Gaon gasps, the sharp whistle of it an aroused echo. Muscles clench around his touch, desperate, and he makes another agonised sound as his free hand settles on the pillow beside Gaon's head, leaning forward enough that he must feel the stretch in his thigh, the way it lifts his hips. )
There we go. Relax for me. ( A murmur, the slow push and pull of his fingers. His hands are not small by any stretch of the imagination and he knows Gaon can feel it, the way they press up nice and deep, searching for the place that will make him squirm the most. His focus settles on Gaon's face as he does so, watching it with bright attentiveness, stretching him out to the sound of their breathing, the slick noise of the lube. ) You're still so tight.
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a hand fits between their bodies, fingers suddenly digging hard into yohan's wrist. he doesn't think it's to stop him, but he's not thinking very clearly at the moment. it's not bad, it's just overwhelming in a way he didn't understand it might be and he groans long and low, his thighs twitching, trying to relax, to breathe.
his eyes crack open just enough to see yohan, blurred through wet lashes, so close now, this tangle of their bodies creating this little space between them. he starts to say something, he doesn't know what, but yohan's fingers press just deep enough, at the right angle, and a jerking, full body shiver tears through him with a cry he doesn't have time to swallow, followed by a litany of low cursing. )
Kang Yohan.
( plaintive. reprimanding. the whine in his voice is all breath gone staccato as he pants, twisting a hand into the pillowcase beside his head until it's taut. none of it means stop. )
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( His voice, strained around the edges, breathless, dips lower into something soothing, care writ in each of the syllables. It occurs to him a little too late that he hadn't even asked if Gaon had done this before, or how long it had been. He thinks he can be forgiven for the haste though, they'd both been caught up in it. So he bites it back, instead focuses on easing the way, inching his fingers in and out as slowly but as firmly as he can. )
Kim Gaon, you're taking my fingers so nicely. You're doing good. There we go. It will feel better soon. Breathe for me, mm?
( He draws his touch almost to the rim again, teasing the pads of his fingertips against the muscle before he slides them solidly back in. Now that he's found the place that inspires such a whine he can't help but brush his touch against that again, watching the spark shiver throughout. Against his shoulder Gaon's leg flexes, Yohan hums a little, clear delight unwinding. )
Pretty. ( He watches him with dark eyes, breath gusting over his cheek. ) Kim Gaon, look at me. Focus on me.
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What--?
( but it's soft, a breath of a sound as gaon blinks up at him slowly. yohan's so close like this, right here. gaon's hand moves from yohan's wrist to push his fingers up through yohan's hair, lifting it off his face, only half-aware he's doing it because it's hard to focus beyond the stretch, the arousal hot in his cheeks, the strain in his thigh. he can feel sweat at his temples as his body moves of its own accord, desperately seeking more of yohan's fingers, chasing whatever it can get from him. )
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( His fingers stretch, plunging deeper, curl against Gaon's walls at his furthest reach. He's still hot, still sinfully tight, Yohan can feel him twitching helplessly in pleasure, his free hand coming up to curve around his cock, more something for him to push up against that any real orchestrated effort to jerk him off, that smile turning far too pleased. It's clear he has been given some kind of power, awash with the heady desire of it. )
Do you know I've thought about this? ( Something obvious, considering how often Yohan has harassed him. But he wants it said anyway. ) About taking you to my bed. About fucking you. ( At this, his fingers find Gaon's sweet spot again, press more firmly. ) About how I might banish every clever thought from your head. I didn't think it would take only this, Kim Gaon, but I like it.
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I haven't...
( done this before? trailing off, barely there, too preoccupied. there's too many words to take in. vaguely he's aware that there might be something bordering an insult somewhere between them, but he can't hold onto any of them long enough to piece it together. there's too much going on, too many chemicals dumping into his body one after another tonight, and he's never felt his body work like this before, never explored the intricacies of any of this. he'll have time to reflect on it later, now he's dragging a restless hand down his face, overwhelmed, cock leaking precome against his belly, yohan's fingers. )
Slow down-- ( gasping, digging a heel into yohan's back, not actually a protest but a warning muffled behind his palm. he doesn't want to admit to it, doesn't want to give yohan the satisfaction so quickly, but if he keeps this up gaon isn't going to last much longer. )
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Could I make you come like this?
( The question unfurls, curiosity warm in his mouth. His fingers move slowly, passing light over the smooth bundle of nerves there. It's not quite a tease, not exactly a taunt, and yet because it is Yohan it carries its own threat. He considers it for a moment, the idea that he might work Gaon into a state just from his hands alone. Could he do it without touching his cock? Would it wreck them both to find out? His breath passes in an amused puff, but then he's leaning closer again, the hand around his length shifting instead to stroke those messy fingertips against his stomach, curving below his ribs so that Yohan can balance. The kiss he presses to Gaon's sweaty hairline is indulgent, so too is the one that trails down his nose, catching his mouth in a singular press.
He needs to focus. )
Another time. ( A murmured promise, his fingers returning to their steadfast easing of the way. Gaon is still tight, he's probably too tight. Yohan shushes him without thinking, exhale low and settling. ) You can relax for me, can't you? I know you can. Just breathe, in and out. It feels good now, it will feel better later.
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it's easier like this. less overwhelming. gaon can sink back into the pillow and breathe again as the urgency ebbs, though the intent still licks up his spine, roars in the background. he watches yohan with half-lidded eyes, hand dragging down his chest as he forcibly slows his hips into something more intentional, purposeful. he breathes deep, slow, lung-filling breaths and it's a noticeable shift when he finds a rhythm, a match, angling down just-so to meet yohan's fingers as he sinks them in. and that's shattering in its own way, the first time they really align, the way the ache gives way to something jarring in a new way, bone-rattling, life-altering.
he half-laughs his way through a moan on the next thrust and his attention shifts from the orchestration of it to how to repeat it, how to match yohan's thrust. his thighs tense, the lower one drawing yohan closer, the higher one using him as leverage as he tries to find the right balance of what he wants and what his body is gradually allowing. )
You relax. ( it's still hard to get words out but he's not as muddled now. ready to pick a fight. ) This is easier for you.
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( The physicality is simple. He might be out of practice but it is muscle memory, and Gaon reacts so beautifully that Yohan is honed to it. He softens his touch again, the slightest of strokes, the more purposeful in and out of his fingers, the glide of his mouth when it seizes on Gaon's bare throat. But there's something sharp and thorny in his chest as they move together, it is an understanding that he is pushing himself deeper into the thicket instead of a clean extraction. And maybe any other time he would have told himself that it was for a reason. He needs Gaon on his side. But this? This is only instinct. This is inevitable.
His fingers move, and Gaon shifts against them. Deeper, and easier each time. Yohan watches his face, the way the strain starts to fade, the way the pink flush turns less furious and more a simmering tension. He brushes his fingertips against the nerves again, more daring. )
Do you think you could take me now, jagiya? ( Teasing, again. ) Do you want me?
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it's an intimacy he's ironically not prepared for, given where yohan's fingers are.
he pushes his fingers up to curl into yohan's hair again, tight at the back of his head. it's almost a caress on the way there, something tender in it as he swallows past the wealth of feelings building in his chest and lets yohan work him open. )
Aii. ( slow, groaning, a double-hike of his hips at the touch, a stutter of sensitivity. he clenches hard around yohan's fingers as he goes to draw them out again, slowing the next push back in. ) Who's jagiya? Me? Aish. ( warmth blooming, heat in his cheeks regardless. they're on the precipice of something here and he wants it badly enough he can taste it, hunger in the back of his throat strong enough it thickens his words to a demand. ) I want you.
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Then let me give you what you want, Kim Gaon.
( His voice a murmur, spare hand lifting to press against Gaon's sternum as he eases his touch free. He makes his own similar mournful sound at the perceived loss, already missing the clench of heat once its gone. It means he can't help himself when he leans in to press a kiss to Gaon's mouth, firm and intent, a quick and impatient press before he's muttering against his lips. ) Let me make you feel good.
( He has to lean back to reorientate himself, his own hands finally and impatiently divesting himself of his underwear. Yohan moves with strange grace, clumsy with lust one minute, remembering himself the next. He's always quick to come back to touching Gaon though, one hand on his calf as he searches for the lube, then sliding back up past his knee, soothing. The bottle discovered, he also drags the condoms closer too, focus flickering between both Gaon and his task. )
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he's only half-aware of what's going on. his hand slides down to wrap his fingers around himself, stroking slowly, loose-gripped, tongue wetting his lips as he watches the light play across yohan's skin, the way his body stretches, the shine of sweat. there's something artistic about it in a way he can't name, a painting come to life, the way yohan keeps looking at him like he can't help it, like he can't stop. that's what he's wanted, isn't it? to be the center of yohan's focus. to have that carefully honed attention on him?
he makes a noise to himself at the understanding and he shifts, head tipping to see what yohan's looking for just for the distraction, to redirect his own mind. there's something snapping at his heels, a mild hysteria at the build up, something tight in his throat and he steals the condoms out from under yohan's hand. he doesn't know what he's doing. he's too deep in this now. the want is buried so deep inside him that there's no other option, no other way this could go, and he meets yohan's eye for a split second, a dare, before he tosses the condoms off the other side of the bed. )
I want you. ( lower, intent, pointed. rough with something purposeful as he hooks his fingers behind yohan's jaw to drag him down into a kiss. ) Kang Yohan.
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( Any other person and he might have hesitated, but then again, any other person and he might not have been here. The want he has is specialised, specific, a terribly pointed and damning thing. But if Yohan has decided he will start trusting him elsewhere, then surely this too? It's a mutual faith either way, something equally ruinous. One that has the fire of his desire blazing too hot, too soon. Yohan hums, pressing his forehead to Gaon's shoulder for a moment, sweaty skin against sweaty skin. His inhale comes sharp between his teeth. )
Kim Gaon. ( Rough, the agony of his arousal a shuddering thing. His hands skate, slide against Gaon's hips, and then he's leaning back up, focused again. His grip manhandles the other man to his own preferences, legs on either side of his own thighs, yanking him a little further down the bed. His gaze is a flaring thing, slipping down the length of Gaon's body with a ravenous hunger, fingers grasping the lube to slick up his own cock with breathless anticipation. It's short movement, fast, the jittering desperation spurring him on. Then it is only shuffling between their bodies, closer, manoeuvring Gaon's legs around his waist and tilting his pelvis up with Yohan's hands on his hips. ) All right?
( They settle together, breathing rough. Yohan lets one hand drift to curve around his own cock, a singular stroke of his touch before he shifts to line the up, press the blunt head against Gaon's entrance. )
Remember to breathe.
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