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. )
( the anxiety rises. it's a good kind of anxiety, anticipatory, alert all the way to his fingers and toes as yohan pulls him into place. it's the promise of it, all the build-up that's brought them to this point, the raging heat that follows his gaze from yohan's hands up the line of his body to his face, to where they've knocked his hair loose, to the surety in all of it. the intent. he hitches his thigh higher against yohan's hip, too aware of the way their skin sticks, the slick of lube on his hip now from yohan's hand, the way the mattress shifts under him when yohan gets close. it's like a timer counting down in his head, the pair of them hurtling towards something inevitable, the shuddering beast lifting its head--
and then.
the first press is immediately too much. for all the credit he'd given yohan's fingers, this is a different sensation entirely. his breath stutters out of him as yohan eases his way inside and his body arches in a single, fluid motion, instinctive, like it's trying to escape. like there's anywhere to go. it demands all of his focus, every part of him honed in on the inexorable stretch to accommodate, and then the head of yohan's cock sinks past the rim of muscle and a sob punches its way out of gaon as he clenches tight around him. his thighs tremble with the effort of holding still, of trying to convince himself to relax, one hand raking up through his own hair while he digs his fingernails into yohan's shoulder with the other, sucking a shivering breath through his teeth. )
I'm trying-- ( to breathe, to relax, harried and preemptive before yohan can try to tell him off for it. it's a moot point, it's noise for the sake of it, happening outside of himself without his full awareness. )
( Yohan would not describe himself as a comforting man, and yet he tries to here. His voice dips, strained with sensation, a little shivering around the words, soothing and slow as best as he can. ) Easy, easy. You're doing so well, you're doing beautifully.
( His arms shake, tense where his fingertips are digging into Gaon's hips. If Yohan had more presence of mind he might be able to loosen his grip, but there will be bruises in the morning either way. Maybe he'd like that, when he notices. But all of his focus is on that clutching heat, how it sends his arousal spiralling. He wants to sink into it and never resurface, holds himself back only because he's sure this is new or reasonably so for Gaon. He'll ask later, but for now there is erring to caution. )
You feel so good. ( Another small thrust, his head bowing between them, gaze blazing from behind the loosening flop of his hair. Sweat has started to sheen across his brow, his chest, his belly heaving with the force it takes to keep as still as he can. Gaon's tight, and he's warm, and he squirms just so and Yohan lets out a rough edged, gasping breath, eyes squeezing shut because it's almost too much. ) H-ha.
( His fingers flex and then tighten, his body curving with the next push so that he can capture Gaon's mouth in a clumsy, panting kiss. It's a slow affair, easing him into it, tongue invading the space as languid as the rest of him, taking up residence like he belongs there. It means his own sound of desperation is muffled, a half grunted thing pressed between them, rocking his hips in slow, steady circles until he bottoms out. )
( he'd be enthralled if he had any room left in his mind to be aware of the way yohan looks right now. he gets it in flashes, quick bursts of light through his lashes as he fights to breathe. dark eyes. golden skin. the look on his face, as if he's been wounded, and gaon doesn't have time to know what to make of that before yohan inches deeper inside him.
it goes on for so long that gaon loses track of anything else. there's only this, only yohan and the sensation of being filled, of space being made where there wasn't before, yohan carving out room for himself inside of him. it's a struggle to breathe, to be still. he thrashes a little, desperate jerks to get away as he groans, just the slightest tinge of misery at the edges and he wouldn't be able to explain the way that it's terrible in exactly the way he wants it to be. it's so much, all the pent up parts of him pressing outward, straining at the seams, his thighs shaking, his chest heaving, panting into yohan's mouth where he's only half-aware that they're kissing to begin with.
he feels when yohan's hips settle against his ass. he makes a desperate, aching noise against yohan's lips, his whole body shuddering, trembling as he fights to talk his muscles down. he can feel himself tight around yohan's cock, the stretch of it, the fullness, and he pushes a hand into yohan's hair to drag him into place, to press their foreheads together as he hooks one ankle over the other behind yohan's back. )
Just go-- ( strained, shaking. he rubs his nose into yohan's sweaty cheek and breathes hard in the little space between them. ) Move. Yohan-ah, fuck, when you want.
( It comes pouty, a little cluck of his tongue. Their foreheads are tacky where they're pressed together, slick with sweat, and Yohan's eyes half closed as he tries to readjust himself to the sensation. It's a lot, even for him, like immersing oneself in the deep end of something, too much, too quick. Gaon is tight and hot around him, a fiercesome grip that has the older man doubtful he could move. The blaze of his own feelings sit right up against his skin, threatening to engulf him. His throat feels thick with it. Every rough exhale brings with it a desperate gravelly edge, panting with the exertion required to get himself back under control. )
Kim Gaon.
( His forehead smears against Gaon's own when he resettles, gaze flickering upwards from underneath his lashes. The first motion is only the smallest of movements, a grinding of their hips together, breath punched out in an almost laugh. He starts small, stomach muscles clenching, rocking them together in the scant space they've allowed. It has Yohan's insides all twisted up, arousal deep in his gut, the heat of it so real that he's surprised they have not scalded each other. He nudges his nose against Gaon's own, still breathing open mouthed, eases his cock half of the way out only to push back in, slow and steady, the determined glide erupting more goosebumps along his shivering skin.
His hands shift, reorientate themselves against Gaon's hips, tilting his pelvis with each shallow thrust. It feels good, Yohan settling into a pattern. At first, exploration. Then an almost tease. Gaon squirms beneath him, a living flame, and he has to shift enough that he can set his teeth to his jaw, hungry. )
( it's a kind of ache he hasn't felt before, something deep and real in a way so many things aren't. it's too much, overwhelming to the point he can't think of anything beyond yohan's cock and the weight of his body and the heat of his skin. there's the smell of smoke in the back of his throat, of decisions made and sides taken and the way everything kind of feels like it's been on an inevitable spiral to this point, sliding from the moment he'd walked into kang yohan's office and shaken his hand. it's not the sex as much as it's the consuming, as much as it's the way his entire life has been upended and somehow even this doesn't feel like it's quite enough.
he chokes on the sensation of yohan pulling out, but the slide back in is revelatory. he feels it in his spine, electric, sparking somewhere in the space between pleasure and hurt. his breath hiccups and he scrambles a bit to find a grip, to twist his fingers deeper into yohan's hair, to dig into the meat of his arm, cursing low, staccato. )
Aish--
( chest heaving, he arches off the bed, thighs tense against yohan's hips. there's a stutter of sound as yohan presses deep again and something shifts, his body relaxes a little more around him. )
Okay. ( permission as he wraps an arm around the back of yohan's neck. )Okay.
( He likes Gaon's hand in his hair, fingers buried deep to keep him in place. He likes, too, the tightness of his thighs, the way they've curved into each other as though any space left between them needs blotted out. Gaon opens up a little more and the thrill it ignites is revolutionary, Yohan making a soft, eager noise against his skin. He wants this, and more, instinct holding him steady. )
Yes? ( It's not quite a question. It's certainly not one that needs answering. Yohan moves his hips again, a solid, steady thrust of them, rolling his hips filthy and deep. Gaon's cock twitches between them, he can feel it where they're pressed together, teeth flashing into a wicked smile when the younger man gasps. The stickiness of precome smears against each of their skin, adding to the salt of their sweat. His tongue drags along a damp pulse point just to taste him before his words come out all in a shaking rush. ) Kim Gaon, you like it. You like this. Me, inside you.
( It certainly isn't what he had planned. The thought to entertain it had been brief, the first time he'd pushed Gaon up against those bookshelves of his. There had been something in his eyes. A flicker that Yohan had understood and then filed away. He'd thought his plans would be more professional. And yet when he fucks into Gaon now with a short, sharp little motion, enough to hear the slap of their skin, he knows he'll never be professional again. )
Fuck. ( A low, wild laugh, voice murmured into a promise. ) Ai, I like it too. I like how you feel.
( it feels a bit like this is what he's been chasing for so long. or something close to it, anyway, this sensation of being consumed on all sides by kang yohan's attention. because it's all there is now: the weight of him, the smell, every little breath and gasp against his skin. he's surrounded by him, filled up by him, and yohan is right. gaon barely has a grasp on what's happening but yohan is right all the same because he does like this. too much, maybe, even down to the ache. he likes it in a way that might become a problem later, another high to chase that he should be sworn away from.
he presses the wrecked noise he makes at that thrust into yohan's hair. he can feel how the tension gives way, how his body works to accommodate because the want is such a hungry, visceral thing. another snap of yohan's hips and his head drops back to the bed, mouth open at the sensation. it's all of it, everything, even down to the feel of yohan's body moving between his thighs. there are a hundred problems with this, even more reasons why they shouldn't be doing it, and instead of examining those with any kind of seriousness gaon hitches his hips up to meet yohan's next thrust with a filthy groan.
was this what they'd had in mind when they'd planted him to keep kang yohan in check? probably not. but they never really keep what gaon wants in mind, either, and this right here? he wants this. )
( He can't help the small, wild laugh that escapes him. It bubbles out of him, viciously pleased, his hips snapping to meet the tilt of Gaon's own pelvis, gaze intently caught on his parted lips, the kiss bruised swell of them. In the quiet of his bedroom everything hones down to the senses. His sight fixated on Gaon's flush, ears pricked to the slap of their bodies, the panting of breath, his palms fitted neatly to the other man's waist, the smell of smoke and sweat. He leans in again to lick the trail of moisture from Gaon's bobbing throat, delight too bright for a moment, the intimacy of it blindsiding him. There's no thought other than they belong like this, Gaon's body welcoming Yohan's fervour, two bold minds equally fixated.
Fingers slide from the younger man's waist, trip over shuddering muscles. Yohan shifts his balance back onto his knees, the other palm still curved against his hip to keep him in place. The change lets him fuck in at a different angle, watching as Gaon's body jolts with it. It also lets Yohan take Gaon's flushed, hard cock in hand, thumb playing with the head as another sticky burst of precome hits, fingers squeezing lightly. ) Aish, look at you.
( He's rarely covetous. There's not much he wants. Nice suits, shiny watches, fast cars. It all pales into comparison with the wash of possessive hunger that floods Yohan now. He shifts, tugging Gaon's leg higher around his waist, scraping his nail against the sensitive inner skin of his thigh, the other hand tugging his cock in a mean little pull. He wants. Gaon in his life, and his confidence, Gaon in his home, and in his bed, and a space carved out for him. He knows he'll do terrible things to keep it. )
( it's better than he ever could have imagined it would be. and he's thought about it before, too, a variety of scenarios that trip through his mind when yohan presses the right buttons -- whether intentionally or not. pressed into the kitchen counters, in the passenger seat of his car, laid out on his bed just like this, the sheets hot under his shoulders. but none of it has ever been as sharp or as clear as this, none of it considered the way yohan holds onto him like he needs grounding or the way the sweat sheens on yohan's skin in the low light or how it would feel to be wanted the way he does now.
he doesn't like the distance when yohan leans away. or he doesn't think he does, until yohan thrusts in and it's not deeper as much as it's new and gaon twists against it, groaning louder than he should, his thighs tensing. it's good, it's unrelenting. he feels himself fraying a little as yohan's hand wraps around him, attention split between too many things, everything just a little sharp, a little bright, sparking as he rolls his body to meet yohan's. his own hands are restless like this, wandering as yohan fucks into him, presses deeper than anyone else has ever been. one splays flat across his stomach, the other twisting into his own hair, seeking out some kind of grounding against the overwhelm.
he won't last long like this. he's sure they both know it. he wants to stretch this out into hours, to exist in this space beyond the parameters of his own skin, but the hunger is a stronger force and the urge to drive himself down around yohan's cock supersedes any other designs he might have. )
Harder-- ( croaked, not a plea but something close. he drags his hand down his face and reaches to yohan's chest instead, nails against his skin, scratching his way down like it might help to spur him on. )
( It does spur him on. The sting of nails leaves the faintest of red lines over his heaving chest, Yohan's parted lips twitching into a grin sharp enough to show his canines. That singular word is the dropping of a flag on a rainy street, a bright signal to go, and when has he ever managed to ignore something like that. Yohan shifts, two hands back on Gaon's hips, fingers flexing and then digging in hard as he draws his cock nearly all of the way out. The clutching heat makes his head pulse, a flush along his throat, sweat dripping. Next time he thinks he'll take his time, he'll tease a little more, but since Gaon asked -.
His hips snap on the next breath, the mattress creaking under his knees, the slap of their skin an echo to the frantic gasp that falls from one, or both, of them. It's a mean pace, entirely unforgiving. Gaon wanted it hard, and Yohan wants it fast, and he fucks into him like he means it, like if he could brute force their connection entirely through this he would. His head bows again, fringe falling into his wild eyes, the blown pupils of them skating over Gaon's face, his agonised mouth, the way he thrashes against the sheets. Every thrust forward Yohan uses the hands on his hips to pull Gaon close, fingertips slick where they meet skin. )
Touch yourself.
( A rough, gravelly whisper. A command, words broken up by his the way their bodies collide, the sheer desperation in it. )
I want you to come for me, Kim Gaon. You will, won't you? Like this? It's what you want, isn't it?
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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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and then.
the first press is immediately too much. for all the credit he'd given yohan's fingers, this is a different sensation entirely. his breath stutters out of him as yohan eases his way inside and his body arches in a single, fluid motion, instinctive, like it's trying to escape. like there's anywhere to go. it demands all of his focus, every part of him honed in on the inexorable stretch to accommodate, and then the head of yohan's cock sinks past the rim of muscle and a sob punches its way out of gaon as he clenches tight around him. his thighs tremble with the effort of holding still, of trying to convince himself to relax, one hand raking up through his own hair while he digs his fingernails into yohan's shoulder with the other, sucking a shivering breath through his teeth. )
I'm trying-- ( to breathe, to relax, harried and preemptive before yohan can try to tell him off for it. it's a moot point, it's noise for the sake of it, happening outside of himself without his full awareness. )
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( His arms shake, tense where his fingertips are digging into Gaon's hips. If Yohan had more presence of mind he might be able to loosen his grip, but there will be bruises in the morning either way. Maybe he'd like that, when he notices. But all of his focus is on that clutching heat, how it sends his arousal spiralling. He wants to sink into it and never resurface, holds himself back only because he's sure this is new or reasonably so for Gaon. He'll ask later, but for now there is erring to caution. )
You feel so good. ( Another small thrust, his head bowing between them, gaze blazing from behind the loosening flop of his hair. Sweat has started to sheen across his brow, his chest, his belly heaving with the force it takes to keep as still as he can. Gaon's tight, and he's warm, and he squirms just so and Yohan lets out a rough edged, gasping breath, eyes squeezing shut because it's almost too much. ) H-ha.
( His fingers flex and then tighten, his body curving with the next push so that he can capture Gaon's mouth in a clumsy, panting kiss. It's a slow affair, easing him into it, tongue invading the space as languid as the rest of him, taking up residence like he belongs there. It means his own sound of desperation is muffled, a half grunted thing pressed between them, rocking his hips in slow, steady circles until he bottoms out. )
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it goes on for so long that gaon loses track of anything else. there's only this, only yohan and the sensation of being filled, of space being made where there wasn't before, yohan carving out room for himself inside of him. it's a struggle to breathe, to be still. he thrashes a little, desperate jerks to get away as he groans, just the slightest tinge of misery at the edges and he wouldn't be able to explain the way that it's terrible in exactly the way he wants it to be. it's so much, all the pent up parts of him pressing outward, straining at the seams, his thighs shaking, his chest heaving, panting into yohan's mouth where he's only half-aware that they're kissing to begin with.
he feels when yohan's hips settle against his ass. he makes a desperate, aching noise against yohan's lips, his whole body shuddering, trembling as he fights to talk his muscles down. he can feel himself tight around yohan's cock, the stretch of it, the fullness, and he pushes a hand into yohan's hair to drag him into place, to press their foreheads together as he hooks one ankle over the other behind yohan's back. )
Just go-- ( strained, shaking. he rubs his nose into yohan's sweaty cheek and breathes hard in the little space between them. ) Move. Yohan-ah, fuck, when you want.
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( It comes pouty, a little cluck of his tongue. Their foreheads are tacky where they're pressed together, slick with sweat, and Yohan's eyes half closed as he tries to readjust himself to the sensation. It's a lot, even for him, like immersing oneself in the deep end of something, too much, too quick. Gaon is tight and hot around him, a fiercesome grip that has the older man doubtful he could move. The blaze of his own feelings sit right up against his skin, threatening to engulf him. His throat feels thick with it. Every rough exhale brings with it a desperate gravelly edge, panting with the exertion required to get himself back under control. )
Kim Gaon.
( His forehead smears against Gaon's own when he resettles, gaze flickering upwards from underneath his lashes. The first motion is only the smallest of movements, a grinding of their hips together, breath punched out in an almost laugh. He starts small, stomach muscles clenching, rocking them together in the scant space they've allowed. It has Yohan's insides all twisted up, arousal deep in his gut, the heat of it so real that he's surprised they have not scalded each other. He nudges his nose against Gaon's own, still breathing open mouthed, eases his cock half of the way out only to push back in, slow and steady, the determined glide erupting more goosebumps along his shivering skin.
His hands shift, reorientate themselves against Gaon's hips, tilting his pelvis with each shallow thrust. It feels good, Yohan settling into a pattern. At first, exploration. Then an almost tease. Gaon squirms beneath him, a living flame, and he has to shift enough that he can set his teeth to his jaw, hungry. )
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he chokes on the sensation of yohan pulling out, but the slide back in is revelatory. he feels it in his spine, electric, sparking somewhere in the space between pleasure and hurt. his breath hiccups and he scrambles a bit to find a grip, to twist his fingers deeper into yohan's hair, to dig into the meat of his arm, cursing low, staccato. )
Aish--
( chest heaving, he arches off the bed, thighs tense against yohan's hips. there's a stutter of sound as yohan presses deep again and something shifts, his body relaxes a little more around him. )
Okay. ( permission as he wraps an arm around the back of yohan's neck. ) Okay.
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Yes? ( It's not quite a question. It's certainly not one that needs answering. Yohan moves his hips again, a solid, steady thrust of them, rolling his hips filthy and deep. Gaon's cock twitches between them, he can feel it where they're pressed together, teeth flashing into a wicked smile when the younger man gasps. The stickiness of precome smears against each of their skin, adding to the salt of their sweat. His tongue drags along a damp pulse point just to taste him before his words come out all in a shaking rush. ) Kim Gaon, you like it. You like this. Me, inside you.
( It certainly isn't what he had planned. The thought to entertain it had been brief, the first time he'd pushed Gaon up against those bookshelves of his. There had been something in his eyes. A flicker that Yohan had understood and then filed away. He'd thought his plans would be more professional. And yet when he fucks into Gaon now with a short, sharp little motion, enough to hear the slap of their skin, he knows he'll never be professional again. )
Fuck. ( A low, wild laugh, voice murmured into a promise. ) Ai, I like it too. I like how you feel.
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he presses the wrecked noise he makes at that thrust into yohan's hair. he can feel how the tension gives way, how his body works to accommodate because the want is such a hungry, visceral thing. another snap of yohan's hips and his head drops back to the bed, mouth open at the sensation. it's all of it, everything, even down to the feel of yohan's body moving between his thighs. there are a hundred problems with this, even more reasons why they shouldn't be doing it, and instead of examining those with any kind of seriousness gaon hitches his hips up to meet yohan's next thrust with a filthy groan.
was this what they'd had in mind when they'd planted him to keep kang yohan in check? probably not. but they never really keep what gaon wants in mind, either, and this right here? he wants this. )
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Fingers slide from the younger man's waist, trip over shuddering muscles. Yohan shifts his balance back onto his knees, the other palm still curved against his hip to keep him in place. The change lets him fuck in at a different angle, watching as Gaon's body jolts with it. It also lets Yohan take Gaon's flushed, hard cock in hand, thumb playing with the head as another sticky burst of precome hits, fingers squeezing lightly. ) Aish, look at you.
( He's rarely covetous. There's not much he wants. Nice suits, shiny watches, fast cars. It all pales into comparison with the wash of possessive hunger that floods Yohan now. He shifts, tugging Gaon's leg higher around his waist, scraping his nail against the sensitive inner skin of his thigh, the other hand tugging his cock in a mean little pull. He wants. Gaon in his life, and his confidence, Gaon in his home, and in his bed, and a space carved out for him. He knows he'll do terrible things to keep it. )
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he doesn't like the distance when yohan leans away. or he doesn't think he does, until yohan thrusts in and it's not deeper as much as it's new and gaon twists against it, groaning louder than he should, his thighs tensing. it's good, it's unrelenting. he feels himself fraying a little as yohan's hand wraps around him, attention split between too many things, everything just a little sharp, a little bright, sparking as he rolls his body to meet yohan's. his own hands are restless like this, wandering as yohan fucks into him, presses deeper than anyone else has ever been. one splays flat across his stomach, the other twisting into his own hair, seeking out some kind of grounding against the overwhelm.
he won't last long like this. he's sure they both know it. he wants to stretch this out into hours, to exist in this space beyond the parameters of his own skin, but the hunger is a stronger force and the urge to drive himself down around yohan's cock supersedes any other designs he might have. )
Harder-- ( croaked, not a plea but something close. he drags his hand down his face and reaches to yohan's chest instead, nails against his skin, scratching his way down like it might help to spur him on. )
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His hips snap on the next breath, the mattress creaking under his knees, the slap of their skin an echo to the frantic gasp that falls from one, or both, of them. It's a mean pace, entirely unforgiving. Gaon wanted it hard, and Yohan wants it fast, and he fucks into him like he means it, like if he could brute force their connection entirely through this he would. His head bows again, fringe falling into his wild eyes, the blown pupils of them skating over Gaon's face, his agonised mouth, the way he thrashes against the sheets. Every thrust forward Yohan uses the hands on his hips to pull Gaon close, fingertips slick where they meet skin. )
Touch yourself.
( A rough, gravelly whisper. A command, words broken up by his the way their bodies collide, the sheer desperation in it. )
I want you to come for me, Kim Gaon. You will, won't you? Like this? It's what you want, isn't it?