( His jacket ends up suspended halfway down, caught in the crook of his elbows because Yohan has no interest in breaking his own hands away from Gaon's body. The zipper jingles when he pushes forward, tweaking a nipple between thumb and forefinger, swallowing the gasp of arousal neatly when it comes in response. There's something too hungry about him to really think about anything beyond wanting, his thigh grinding against Gaon's growing erection, his mouth moving to bite at the pale column of his throat again, his own breath sharply panted. )
Yes.
( Underneath his own skin, Yohan is ablaze, and his nails scrape along Gaon's stomach as his hand drops again. He'll leave lines with them, he's sure of it. Even that wouldn't wholly satisfy him. He wants things in a formless way, needs undeniable proof of their permanence. This feels like a turning point, and now there's no space for anything beyond constancy. He would hardly let them become untangled now, he knows himself, it's as certain as a the rest of his plans are. No room for turning back. And while adrenaline usually has him sharp-witted, aware of his surroundings, in the heat of Kim Gaon's body and the haste of his hands, Yohan can barely spare a thought for anything else beyond the shape of the other man against him. Beyond them, everything else is dull to the senses, he can only focus on one thing, hands shifting to hold the other man by the hips, tugging more firmly so that Gaon's shoulders have to dig into the car more firmly, dragging him more solidly against the shape of his thigh. )
Whatever you want. ( Slow to put his words to the forefront, tipping forward again to press them both chest to chest. ) Kim Gaon.
( his body arcs in the wake of yohan's nails, bowing up towards the bright shock of barely-there hurt. it's sparks again, certainty, the reminder of existence in a body that knows what it means to feel good. he's washed over in sense memory: yohan's hand on him, the bite of the bookshelves, the way he'd been reduced to desperation and fevered want and somehow this is worse, now. bigger. all-consuming. they keep getting close to something and never quite all the way there and gaon would have his hands in yohan's jeans already if yohan wasn't yanking him off-balance, closing all the space. he gets fingers in a belt loop at yohan's hip instead, breathless, cheeks hot as he grinds his hips forwards on yohan's thigh, too aware of the solidity of yohan's body against him. )
Bujangnim-- ( solely because it feels filthy to say it here, forbidden. a plea to someone else, a different space. not work-related but appealing to something they very much aren't here and now. a mockery of it, almost, his head falling back, mouth open as he groans.
it's this angle that catches the glint of light out of the corner of his eye, just as he's snaking his free hand up into the hair at the back of yohan's head, trying to guide his mouth to gaon's neck again. he doesn't register it at first, too focused on the task at hand, but the vehicle hits a bump that flashes the headlights up again and gaon abruptly remembers where they are, what they're doing, the stakes-- )
Kang Yohan-- ( he drags him away more than shoves him, uses his whole body to stagger him back a step enough to break them apart. )There's a car.
( and there's a huge fire beyond them that they haven't called in. that they specifically shouldn't be found near. gaon does shove yohan towards the driver's side of the car now, his heart rabbiting in his chest, panic rising in a sudden confusing war with the heat of arousal already in him as he scrambles around to throw himself into the passenger seat. )
For a second Yohan's mind refuses to catch up, body insistent on chasing the warmth of Gaon's own, lips smarting from the brutality of the kiss. Then understanding filters in. He laughs, a wild thing in the dark, staggers a little back to the driver's door and slides himself to the seat, mentally back to spinning plates and careful plans. If he leans over the center console to reach for Gaon's seatbelt just to plug it in himself, if he lingers for a brief moment with their faces too close in the dark, if his gaze drops to his mouth once, then that's his own business. He's behaving spectacularly well and should be rewarded for it. The car peels out of the layby quickly either way, taking them diligently and quietly away from the scene of the crime.
There are probably things that need to be said. Yohan doesn't put voice to any of them.
Instead the drive is hushed, the sounds of the wind outside, their breathing easing from harsh into slow, nothing but the hush of intimacy. Yohan is cautious with his hands on the wheel, only sneaks the bare minimum of glances the other man's way, as though they are a finite resource. He thinks about reaching out. He thinks about nothing at all. The house is dark, and silent when they eventually pull up. Elijah should be asleep by now - he'd texted, this time - the space gloomy and creaking around them as they creep inside. Yohan toes off his boots in the dark, watching Gaon from the corner of his eye. In the office they make to part ways, but something pulls sound from him finally, like a dam burst. It's a singular note, a protest. The younger man looks his way. )
Kim Gaon --.
( He's in his space without realising it, eyes glittering there in the dim, shadowy light. Two palms lift, cup the other man's face, a thumb stroking against the sharpness of his cheekbone. He can smell smoke, it clings to their clothes like a ghost, and he thinks he can still see the flicker of it there in the fathomless space of Gaon's own gaze. Yohan opens his mouth again, helpless. )
Kim Gaon.
( What is there to say? That he did well? That now he sees? That Yohan is sorry? It all pales in comparison. Something feels hooked around his ribs now, which means whatever plans he might have had in catching this specific soul within his grasp might have backfired. He hums, makes to let go, move away, thinks better of it when the moment quivers, knife-edge sharp. In the end there's no other solution but to curve an arm around Gaon's waist and yank him closer, mouth pressed just once against the other man's own in a hungry push before he forcibly removes himself again. His hand lifts, presses to his own lips. He laughs again, a silent huff. ) Aish, goodnight, Kim Gaon.
( the cocktail racing in his bloodstream might be the most potent thing he's had to endure. it broils under his skin the entirety of the ride back, too aware of each part of his body, every centimeter of skin, the full syncopation of internal and external like he's forgotten how to fucking breathe. he thinks he might figure out how to crawl outside of himself each time kang yohan looks his way, a chrysalis abandoned to the raw hunger of what he wants now.
he spends most of the car ride with his eyes out the window trying to wind everything back into the hollows of his chest.
it's most of the way under control by the time they're home. existing halfway outside of himself, it's all he can do to trail a half-step behind yohan, not uncertain but not wholly undazed. he could retreat up the stairs to his room. he could be okay with that. he might have to take some extra steps to be able to sleep tonight but he could survive with this knot of too many things lodged in his throat. he's ready to say it, too, swallowing hard past it, eyes lifting.
but then yohan.
but then yohan.
it's tinder sparking. gaon is audience again as kang yohan pours gasoline on a building made for burning and he drops the lighter like he doesn't think it will ignite anything.
the scalding of yohan's hands lingers in gaon's cheeks as he surges back in, closing the space that yohan's just given himself. whatever excuse, whatever reason he has for thinking this is done has been made forfeit and gaon all but growls as he pushes kang yohan against the edge of his desk and pins him there with his hips. he can't just. he can't just kiss him like it's fucking punctuation and send him on his way. a pat on the head. a job well done. gaon's hands fist in yohan's jacket again and he hauls him in close, his eyes aflame, every part of him fucking singing. )
Kang Yohan. We're not done.
( and he kisses him again, bruising, spiteful retribution for the kiss yohan tried to end it on. )
( For a moment he thinks they have brought the fire home with them.
He can feel it licking at his skin, the heat of a blaze so prominent every inch feels like it's beginning to singe. He is no stranger to the concept. He knows it intimately. But instead it is just Gaon's nearness, the harshness of his hands, the meanness of his mouth, the fury, resettling, and that is all right, that is better. Yohan makes a singular note of sound, not a protest, not quite - a punched out breath, before his own fingers reach to shove underneath the fabric of the other man's jacket, push at it incessantly like he'd wanted to before, moving back into the kiss like it's a fight. )
Kim Gaon.
( An undertone, pressed to skin. He abandons the jacket, instead loops his fingers in Gaon's belt buckles to drag him nearer, arousal spiking again. Has he ever wanted quite like this before? He doesn't think so. Because there is something damning in how they fit together, in how Yohan so badly wants to take. If he could, he'd sink his teeth in to the marrow, and that should frighten him, really. Instead it just incenses him. ) Is there something you need?
( Lips, broken away so the question comes against the hollow of his throat, the scent of the smoke lingering. He breathes deep in a way that has him shuddering, leans back to look at the younger man in the barely there light. It's easier then to bury his hands in Gaon's hair, to surge from the desk like a wave, body to body in an inelegant crash. There is no grace in the way they kiss now, stripped down of all refinement to the basest of instinct. If he'd had a plan to seduce it's been thrown out of the window, or left to smoulder at the house. Instead all he can do is sweep broad hands wherever they drop, frantic with their clumsy aimlessness. )
Let me.
( And this, now, without the edge of his usual superiority, roughened. Teeth catch on Gaon's bottom lip, tug slightly, hands stealing under his shirt to splay against the shape of his spine. )
Let me take you to bed. Kim Gaon. Let me make you feel good.
( without question, without thought. the inevitability that they've been steadily tripping towards, a backburner of a question lingering between them, not an if but a when. a threat looming. a promise gaon's desperate to keep.
he's thought about kang yohan more than he'll ever admit. he has the sensation of him pressed full-bodied against him, chest to hip, skin on skin. he's never seen him fully unclothed but he thinks about the feeling of yohan's sturdy chest pressed to his back and the solidity of his thigh between his legs and every place yohan's hands have ever touched his skin. a palm to his throat, fingers on his cock, gaon against the wall in the shower playing images in his mind he doesn't have the words for aloud.
and here, now. now. he couldn't say no if he wanted to. the blood ringing in his ears drowns out any other options and yohan is a wall of fire he's desperate to throw himself into. he arches up against him, presses his tongue into his mouth, and uses the kiss as a distraction to actually shove his jacket down his shoulders, dislodging yohan's hands from under his shirt so that he can rock back a step and drag both sleeves off at the same time. the sound the leather makes as it falls is more satisfying than it should be, something accomplished, and gaon's hands find yohan's hips to push him back towards his own bedroom. hungry. demanding. his skin feels too tight for his body.
who is he, now? something new. something different even to where the night began. something desperate to feel kang yohan's skin against his own. )
( Want so thick it sticks in his throat, his hands sweeping along Kim Gaon's sides, up the length of his back with the desperate need to touch even as he's being pushed towards his own bedroom. There's something about the daring of it all that he likes, that careful politeness that the other man guards himself with, cracked open, peeled back, the mass of desire revealed. If he had time to revel in it he would, but his own impulses war against it now. So Yohan halts in his steps only to kiss him again, a quick and greedy press before he winds fingers in that soot-scented black shirt to pull him along.
There's no elegance in it, not really. He yanks him through his bedroom door with single-minded focus, uses the length of Gaon's body to press it closed. Yohan crowds him in the space with a smile glinting in the dark. One hand fits to the other man's side, locks the door with quick ministrations, mouth colliding again. Like before, he finds the spaces to fit himself in, hips to hips against the wood, lips bruising in a gluttonous kiss. Gaon's mouth is a piercing warmth when his tongue pushes in, his own hands slipping back underneath the hem of his shirt to spread against the other man's stomach again, curving around his waist. They're both half hard, he can feel that, knows if the dizzying need that exists in him is anything to go by then there's very little pressure needed to get them both there. So he hums into the kiss, breaks away with a feral little sound, yanks Gaon's shirt up and over his head in the next motion. It gets thrown somewhere, and then Yohan is curling fingers around his wrist to tug him off balance again. )
Look at you.
( Breathed as he twists to guide Gaon back towards the bed, still incapable of letting go even as he's shoving him down against the mattress. It's so easy to follow, he laughs when they try to reorientate themselves, ducks closer only to bite at the hinge of shoulder and throat, leans back to finally shove his own jacket the rest of the way, letting it fall to the floor with a thud. )
Kim Gaon.
( Whispered. Touch insatiable, fingers fanning Gaon's chest just so he can squeeze along with the sharp inhale, black eyes watchful and attentive. Yohan kisses him again in the next moment, breath pitched too heavy. )
( he's been in this room before. it's not an unfamiliar space. but this is the first time he's been pulled into it in this context and the walls take on a different shape as if they know that all of this is brand new. long coming. burning in the background, waiting for the kindling.
it shouldn't work for him. he already knows that it does, that it's too late for introspection on the matter when the breath in his lungs gets knocked loose by the way kang yohan drags him around. he's nothing more than base responses, body bending to meet the demands, mouth hungry, fingers grabbing hold to whatever he can reach. he wants in massive, abstract ways, heaving with it, too big to contain, and yohan only feeds it, presses too close, encourages all the exact behaviours that gaon has managed to keep shut down. it's why this never happens, why hookups have been few and far between, just casual affairs that peter out quietly in the background. because none of them are like this, none of them burn, none of them climb on top of him like they want to devour him and he couldn't name anyone that he'd ever let do it.
yohan's eyes on him send a new heat to his gut, something deep and aching, something no one has ever sparked before. yohan has spent a lot of time watching him but never quite like this, like a wealth of options have been suddenly opened to him, a dozen doors unlocked. the heat of his hands is scorching compared to the chill of the room and gaon groans into the kiss as his fingers find yohan's sides, drive up under his shirt until it's caught on his armpits. he twists his hands into it, pulls it taut across the span of his shoulder blades, and huffs an incredulous laugh into yohan's mouth. )
Pansanim--
( dark, molten, dragged into the slick of yohan's lips against his own, only half a joke in the title. he pulls the shirt over yohan's head, mussing his hair, breaking the kiss, and leaves it to yohan to get the rest of the way off because he's too busy pulling him back into another kiss, pressing his tongue into his mouth with a voracity he didn't know he had in him. his hands are already skating down to yohan's belt, blindly working it open, body arching up to meet him at every point. )
Kang Yohan-- ( he digs his teeth into yohan's lower lip. ) Take your pants off.
( Laughter, unbidden. At first he does nothing to help Gaon, instead he just slides his greedy hands from the other man's bare shoulders down his chest, fingertips firmly pressing in every expanse of muscle he can. Beneath his touch Goan's sternum rises and falls with the same frantic breath that's currently seizing Yohan's own body, and that feels satisfying in its own way, palm to heaving flank like taming something wild. Exhilarating, thrilling.
Something hard won. )
Aish, so demanding.
( Teasing, still. He squeezes his palms around Gaon's side, uses his grip as balance to lean in and drag their mouths together in something sweet, clumsy with longing. Only once he's satisfied does he pull back to start helping, belt abandoned with a rattle, fingers gracelessly yanking free the button of his jeans. They get shoved down his thighs in a shimmy, kicked off, taking one sock with them and the other toed off immediately after. It leaves Yohan in just dark underwear, hovering over Goan with wild-eyed intent, already hard, already frantic. )
Do you like what you see, Kim Gaon? ( It's instinct tugging him back in, crawling up the length of Gaon's body again, knees against each side of his hips. His own hands fold back to his waist, flexing, before his thumb slides under the waistband with daring. ) Do I get to take yours off too?
( another line crossed. boundaries broken. there are immense secrets that kang yohan holds inside of him and somehow this feels akin to learning some of those. for someone who wields his clothing like armour -- layers of expensive wools, fine cottons, eccentric dressing gowns -- to have him willingly peel those parts of himself away feels like admittance to something more than that. something to be careful with, at the same time as it's something he wants to burn himself with.
it's the latter, right now.
reaching for yohan as he crawls back in, gaon's eyes greedy with how much skin is made available to him. he's seen it before but never to touch, to take advantage of. his hands skate up yohan's chest, a reverse of the path yohan's hands took down his own. )
I will if you don't.
( a threat, bold. demanding. his hips rise to press against yohan's hand as he curls his own over the back of yohan's neck and drags him back down to kiss him again, hungry and impatient. the urgency is a live thing, itching at the back of his neck, in his wrists and his hips. he sinks his teeth into the bow of yohan's top lip like a dare, bearing down just a little too hard to be considered polite. )
( Gaon bites him and Yohan's breath goes shuddery, molten heat pooling, lip smarting. He feels electric with it, a desire so sharp it stings, hands almost trembling with badly contained energy, fingers desperate to divest the other man of his clothing. Yohan kisses him back with hunger so profound it floods his mouth, their bodies shifting in a kind of dance, fabric shoved and pulled as much as they can without parting. Eventually he manages it, the two of them in the scant covering of their underwear. It does nothing to protect either of them, his fingers splay boldly over the shape of Gaon's cock either way, wrapping around the expanse of him like they belong there at the same time as his kiss turns wicked.
There's something about this that feels unexpectantly bold. Yohan is no stranger to sex. And yet, dragging his touch over Gaon's clothed erection, thumb stroking along his length. something feels monumental. He could tell himself it's because of a shift in their dynamic, a change in their relationship, but that was fairly destined either way. It's just Gaon. Touching someone Yohan actually wants. Taking something he needs.
He breaks away, trails his lips along the shape of the other man's jaw, sneaks his fingers underneath the waistband of his underwear just as he drags his tongue along Gaon's frantic pulse point. )
Kim Gaon.
( A murmur, breathless, underwear eased the same way as the rest, words in the hollow of his throat. )
( it's like giving parts of himself up one piece at a time, abandoning the framework of who he'd tried so hard to be in exchange for more of yohan's attention. it's a physical thing, a conscious choice, driven by hunger, yes, but inevitable, a deal already made, shedding the extraneous worries for the way it feels to breathe into yohan's mouth, to drag his palm over his shoulder, his arm, to touch just because he wants it. because he can.
that first press, yohan's hand -- he's in the office again, heat in his cheeks, panic rising in a way he knows is addicting. it's a different kind of panic here, a sudden rush of want so potent he's dizzy with it, breathless, keening into yohan's mouth as he presses into his hand, his fingers. his own fingers hook on the back of yohan's arm just above his elbow, holding on, wheezing a little as his head tips back into the bed.
there's no room for shame or fear or hesitation here. it's been burned away a half dozen times, lingering in his bloodstream, a promise of more that's here and now. he swallows hard, loudly, his other hand pushing into yohan's hair as he lifts his hips and pushes his cock towards yohan's fingers. )
Anything-- ( god, and he's slurring already, want thick in his throat. he'd agree to pretty much anything at this point if it means more skin, more touch, more yohan consuming all the air around him. it's clear in his eyes too when he rolls them down to yohan's face, shiny with hunger, with something too pent-up and desperate for release. ) Just do it.
( He has to laugh again, the thrill of that power coursing through him. How long has he wanted Kim Gaon's trust? How much energy has he put into garnering it, as covetous and as greedy as people have always assumed him to be? Because he is gluttonous here. He's ravenous. He wants in a way he can't really contain, the flush of it pressed up against his skin. Yohan hums, a gravelly exhale, places one hand on Gaon's shoulders to lean back, the depth of his gaze bottomless as he takes in the sight before him, flushed skin, squirming body, chest heaving with each breath.
He's gorgeous.
And so there's no other choice but to cup both hands against those heated cheeks, holding Gaon steady so that Yohan can kiss him, fabric clad cock dragging against the other man's stomach muscles. He can feel the heat of him everywhere they touch, and that too has his head spinning. There's too much warmth in the room, too much threatening to consume him. So he satisfies himself with a serious of desperate, teeth-edged kisses, first to Gaon's mouth, then to his throat, sucking a singular mark to the skin just below where his collar would sit, letting his lips take their own meandering path.
His chest holds a particularly appealing canvas, and Yohan pauses there, palms fitting to his ribs, two hands squeezing lightly. It's so easy to drag his mouth across Gaon's sternum, feather light, hand shifting higher so he can run a thumb over a peaking nipple. Cute enough that he can't help but drag his nail over the nub, gaze flickering upwards. Yohan's lips replace it seconds after regardless, mouth hot, tongue a drag, inhale sharp and heady. )
( it's not nearly enough. it's that much worse because of it. gaon can be patient but his reserves were running low well before they reached this point. it's infuriating immediately and achingly effective and he tracks yohan's mouth with a focus he didn't know he had. keeping still is impossible. he twists with each pass of yohan's hands, each touch of lips, every movement a silent plea for more attention, more heat, more of anything yohan's willing to give. his throat throbs in time with his pulse, pointed where yohan's left a reminder. gaon drags his feet against the bed, seeking leverage. )
Kang Yohan.
( sharp, a protest to the cautious treatment. he's forced to swallow it a second later when yohan's mouth finds him and he jerks under him, caught off guard by the flare of heat that it sends racing to his cock. he curses under his breath and palms over the back of yohan's head, grip wide across the span of his neck, fingers splaying against the plane of his shoulders just to drag his nails right back up to twist his fingers mean into yohan's hair. )
It stutters his movements, a singular blip easily explained away by the tugging of Gaon's hand in his hair, his shuddering breath muffled against the warmth of the other man's skin. Yohan bites him in retaliation without thinking about it, teeth against the sensitive edge of his nipple before he drags his mouth over his heaving chest to do the same to the other. As much as Yohan wants to take his time, to litter all that flushed skin with his kisses, leave marks across the canvas, the energy in him doesn't have the patience for it.
Next time, he tells himself, next time.
It's easy to shift, muscles in his arms straining briefly when he moves to situate himself more easily between Gaon's thighs. Between their bodies he can feel the heat of the other man's cock against his stomach. He presses close to drag them together, trailing his lips down a shaking stomach, humming hungrily into his skin before he finally lowers himself more properly to the mattress, shoving Gaon's thighs apart with impunity so that he can rest between them.
A crooked grin flashes, eyes lifting dark, Yohan shifting to rest on his elbows so he can run fingertips lightly up the length of the other man's swollen, flushed cock. It twitches under his touch, desperate. Beading prettily at the head. He hadn't been able to see last time, and the sight makes his mouth water a little, eager. )
( vulnerability catches up to him with yohan between his legs. it's a flashbulb of a feeling, bright enough to blind, a wash of cold stark against the wealth of heat. but that's all it is and he's surprised more by how quickly it ebbs, largely due to yohan's body, the heat, the insistence -- the question.
his brow furrows, confusion flickering across his face before yohan's fingers drag any semblance of answering away from him. his breath shudders out of him, a full-body thing, and he shifts his hips against the bed, restless and wanton, his hand still on the back of yohan's head. it's easy to let hunger drive him; his thighs fall open wider as his chest yawns open with something bigger than the both of them and he doesn't know what to do with the weight of it. )
Don't--
( and it's protest, not plea. it's admonishment, sharp, too big. his skin hums something viciously discordant as he smooths his hand down the side of yohan's face, digs his fingertips into yohan's jaw, catches his thumb on yohan's lower teeth. he's not as intimidating as yohan is, but his eyes burn with the heat of the fire they'd left behind when they meet yohan's, with all the hunger he's amassed in the weeks and weeks it's taken to get here. the message is hopefully clear enough. he doesn't have it in him to play. he might tear himself to pieces if he does. )
( He bites into the meat of Gaon's thumb, tongue dragging over the pad of it immediately after, smiling when it's pulled away. )
Another time, then.
( Because there will be another time now, he's sure of it. He won't be sated with just this, having Kim Gaon in his bed the once and never again. He's far too greedy for that. And there's something about the look on his face that spurs Yohan onwards, the flame catching between them. He could play coy, he could hold out, but after what has happened tonight he finds he doesn't want to.
So a hand curls around the base of Gaon's cock to hold him steady, Yohan's thumb stroking along a flushed vein with indulgent care. His head dips, blowing a breathy gust over the length of him, but he doesn't waste time. Instead his lips press to the other man's skin, Yohan's inhale sharp and pleased through his nose as he travels the span of his cock with his lips, warm and eager, trailing upwards so he can press a kiss just below the head. Gaon told him not to tease, and while Yohan is not quite used to being obedient, they both want the same thing. His tongue darts out to drag over the tip, flat and hot, saliva pooling in his mouth in response to the taste. Gaon is sharp and clean here, but not unpleasantly bitter, and Yohan shifts against the mattress, bullying his legs wider so he can settle better between them, smearing the head over his bottom lip before he finally takes him between both. It's slow - not out of any real desire to torment -, more that they both need time to adjust. He doesn't quite know about Gaon ( could guess, maybe ) but it's been a while since he's done this. He wants it to be good.
Sp Yohan makes a rough noise, barely there and more vibration than anything, cheeks hollowing as he sucks, gaze flickering upwards. )
( he couldn't have understood what he was asking for. because this, the act? isn't new. but yohan isn't anything like anyone else and gaon's low-smouldering hunger somehow still hasn't prepared him for this. )
Kang Yohan--
( the heat is unbearable. a threat, ticking, looming ever closer until yohan does him the mercy of committing several different crimes at once. he makes a noise he doesn't think he's ever made before, a half-whimper that he bites back as he drags his heels up the bed. yohan's mouth is hot, an inferno of promise, a cruel weapon he wields to destroy people in all the different ways he can and now, here, gaon too. he thrusts shallowly up against yohan's tongue, a hand touching to his hair again, awash in a dizzying blaze.
it's a lesson in behaving, in stillness he can't keep. he's overwhelmed already by too many things -- the mouth, the heat, the understatedness of it, kang yohan -- but he's not prepared for the way yohan looks up. for the look in his eyes. gaon hadn't even realized he'd lifted his head far enough to see and he lets it fall back to the bed again with a miserable little grunt just to drag his hands down his face.
this is what he'd wanted, right? he'd demanded. he wasn't ready. he's not ready. the heat's already burrowing into him, splaying him open, granting yohan more than he should. he wants it badly enough it aches under his tongue. )
You can't be good at this too. ( he's dropped his hands to his chest at least, dazed, gaspingly plaintive, a step outside of himself as his mouth runs off without him. ) Have you thought about this before? I did.
( It is history dredged up, a half a dozen memories of what had been pleasant so long ago, his own fantasies rifled through like card stock, instinct at the forefront. Gaon squirms like he can't contain himself though, and Yohan silences the part of his brain that has to tick away three steps ahead, instead focuses on only what he wants and what feels good to them both, Gaon's cock a heavy weight on his tongue and his own arousal pinned to the mattress, restless energy underneath his shoulder blades. He can't answer the gasped question without lifting his mouth away, and that would be unforgiveable, so he merely sinks another inch lower and lets out a quizzical sound that could mean several things - an agreement, perhaps, encouragement, a singular note of wonton arousal before he continues his ministrations.
One arm curves under Gaon's thigh, palm hooked over the shape of the muscle. His fingers dig into the meat of his skin, blanching it white under his touch. The other stays wrapped around his shaft, stroking in quick and firm caresses, touching wherever his mouth can't reach. Yohan's gaze has fallen away in favour of his new priority, head bobbing. It's already a little wet, a little messy, frantic in it's own way. His breathing sounds harsh here, through his nose and panted, throat clicking as he swallows. He can't take it all - a fact that he's going to rectify with practice - but he commits attention to whatever he can, tongue and lips and even the threatening edge of his teeth all working in tandem.
Gaon squirms, and Yohan makes another noise, low enough to almost be lost but gravelly vibration that he should feel, the pressure of his mouth a sudden, firm suck before he has to lever himself up, tongue pressing to the frenulum in a tease, his palm dropping to roll Gaon's balls between his fingers. It's trial and error, but Yohan does his best to stay attuned, honed in on the way the younger man shifts, what makes him gasp, what causes him to buck up underneath Yohan's touch. It feels good, learning him like this, it feels worth something, dedicating himself to this new craft. )
( he gives himself over to it gracelessly, without consideration. it would be so easy to get lost in his own thoughts about it and instead he bypasses the weeds entirely, letting yohan's attention drag him into the deep.
it's the fingers on his thigh that dial him in, hone his focus. he likes the pressure, the low ache, the threat of bruising. he can't analyze what that means right now, not while yohan's hell bent on proving just how disastrous his mouth can really be. gaon can barely string thoughts together already and it's just snapshots of pleasure, of urgency, the anchor on his thigh, the flash of teeth that woofs surprise out of him, jerks his hips up before he can stop them. )
Yah-- ( but it's empty protest. he twists his head to the side and presses his cheek to his shoulder as he pants, hands straying aimless across his chest, his belly, fingers flexing, fluttering, halfway to reaching for himself before he draws them back up. it shouldn't be this easy to let go and yet gaon's let the flush in his cheeks dictate the way he hitches his hips up, angling for yohan's fingers, his mouth.
he presses the side of his knee to the outside of yohan's arm, hemming him in, urging him on. he's not anywhere close to anything yet but it's a strange sensation to understand how easily he could end up there with kang yohan's specific brand of focus. he wants this all the time, now. already. he'll be thinking about yohan's fingers on his balls every time he touches them himself. he wants to lay in bed for hours and let yohan touch him everywhere. he wants to be pushed over the edge immediately.
he's never going to get anything useful done ever again. )
Fuck. ( emphatic, a half-sob, back arching up off the bed. ) Fuck.
( He really should be trying to shush Gaon now, but there's something about how frantically edged his voice is that sends heat coiling through Yohan's own body. The want is physical, flush coursing across the back of his neck, a tightness in his stomach, his own cock a hot brand against his sheets. Every time Gaon moves, Yohan shifts with him, and that has delicious friction flickering all the way up to the hollow of his throat too. More saliva pools in his mouth with each passing stroke of his lips, his tongue, spit leaking around the edges of Gaon's girth. He squeezes his balls lightly, open palmed, laughs a little warning protest, guttural, when the other man pushes up too far, too fast. But it feels good. He likes it.
The heaviness it inspires, the pressure, the way Gaon squirms, chest heaving, when Yohan looks up.
He pulls away only to breathe properly for a second, lips staying to drag along the length, fingers re-curling to stroke him from root to tip and then Yohan's tongue over the slit, drinking in more of that sharp aroused taste. It's heady. It's intoxicating. He's never felt the allure of addiction but he thinks he could find it here, in the way Gaon trembles underneath him, an animal thrashing. He knows he could easily become dependent, the head of his cock on Yohan's waiting tongue like a sacrament, and something realigning when he moves to take him back inside.
It's with renewed focus that Yohan swallows down as much of him as he possibly can, tilting his head to better deepen it, jaw relaxing, fingers squeezing. He drags his thumbnail down a flushed vein, a hint of danger where his teeth are tucked away. And he really will leave bruises now, the other hand latching on to keep Gaon still, keep him caught. )
( yohan takes him deeper and he makes such a wretched noise in the wake of that nail that he has to fold his arm over his mouth to stifle anything else that might follow. it's a sin to be taken apart like this. kang yohan's mouth is a terrible thing at the best of times but gaon could never have guessed it would be quite like this, overwhelming from the get go. and maybe some of it is gaon, too. it's been a while. his focus has been elsewhere. he's spent too long thinking about yohan pressing full bodied up against him with no resolution and how can he do anything but cave to it? he's wanted this for weeks.
he twists in yohan's hold, against it, and ends up dragging his arm across his face to push himself up onto his elbows with a restlessness he can't contain. yohan's mouth is a furnace and his fingers are just rough enough that he feels every pass, every bump and bend and gaon watches him down the length of his body, eyes blown dark, fixed on where yohan's mouth closes around him.
this is worse than the shelves in the office. heat strikes right to the core of him and he can feel his cock twitch in yohan's mouth, the precome that leaks out of him against yohan's tongue. he makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat, still trying to thrust up against where yohan's holding him pinned, his free leg hitching up around yohan's shoulder so he can press his heel against yohan's back. )
( The heel against his back does something, he can feel the curve of Gaon's foot digging into the muscle, pinning him in place against his cock, and that's good, that makes his focus far more renewed, gives him something to spur him on. He's always liked a physicality in things. A fight, more often than not, but now this too. Sex with Gaon feels like every time they've collided before but with a far deeper heat. And Yohan's greed is monumental. Mouth watering, he tries to take more, meets resistance, makes a querulous sound in the back of his throat at his own perceived lack of practice. He makes up for it after with suction after, with the wet press of his tongue, firm grip twisting hot and fast around Gaon's length in desperate tandem.
He want to pull all the thoughts from his head out of his dick, is intent on it now. Revenge for every single second of distraction.
For how badly he has shaken up Yohan's control.
He might like it too much, the way Gaon twitches, thrashes. He rolls up to meet Yohan like a wave upon the shore, and Yohan hums a singular groaned out note, the hand digging into his thigh shifting to pin him down instead, arm against his waist. It's barely even a real protest, he just thinks they both need grounding. He's certainly strong enough to keep the younger man reasonably pinned, and it draws back some form of power, his head drawing up to hold just the tip between his lips, the corners curving into a brief smirk before he lowers himself again, wet suction, dark gaze lifting once more. )
it had been such a distant thing at first. he's not so easily undone. just a simple thing to let yohan work at him, a tease, a taste, the beginnings of something. he should have known he was wrong, that there was doom etching into the meat of him the moment he agreed to this because it's no surprise that yohan is quick and cruel and clever here but gaon had assumed that he'd at least stood a chance.
stupid. foolish.
already there's a familiar weight in his balls, heat spiking higher with each little choice. there's enough of a sheen of sweat starting on his skin that yohan's forearm sticks where they touch and gaon curses to himself as he rocks up against him, tests the boundaries of where he's held. he's toppled immediately when yohan looks up at him, his own head dropping back between his shoulders as he ruts mindlessly up towards yohan's mouth, shallow little jerks into that heat, that void. his fingers twist into the blanket and each panted breath hitches a little on the exhale, a quick staccato beat that plays out his undoing. )
Kang Yohan-- we--
( a thousand things. his cheeks are hot. he wants to hold yohan by the hair and fuck into his mouth. he wants to lie here and be taken apart. he doesn't want this to be over so quickly.
a warning, then. protest. he's whining. ) I won't last--
He can picture it. Holding Kim Gaon down by the waist, taking as much of him as Yohan can, sucking him down into firm, wet heat with no other recourse than to give himself up to it. It's a pretty picture. It's heady. The power of having the other man at his mercy makes his head spin, desperate with his own desire. But he wants more. Wants to sink into him with all the same terrible insistence as he feels when they fight, the pull of their connection chaining them together. There will be time later to tease, there will be space to see how much he can wring out of Gaon. Neither of them have the patience for that now, urgency too sharp.
He pulls off with a pop, fingers squeezing the base of his cock as if to stave off something. Yohan presses the purse of his lips to the head once in a strangely reverent move, then levers himself up off of his stomach, letting go to crawl back up the length of Gaon's body. His lips are shiny with spit when he grins, wolfish, the front of his boxers damp with his own arousal. He curls a hand around the other man's jaw, thumb against his bottom lip, breath rough and panted. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Yes.
( Underneath his own skin, Yohan is ablaze, and his nails scrape along Gaon's stomach as his hand drops again. He'll leave lines with them, he's sure of it. Even that wouldn't wholly satisfy him. He wants things in a formless way, needs undeniable proof of their permanence. This feels like a turning point, and now there's no space for anything beyond constancy. He would hardly let them become untangled now, he knows himself, it's as certain as a the rest of his plans are. No room for turning back. And while adrenaline usually has him sharp-witted, aware of his surroundings, in the heat of Kim Gaon's body and the haste of his hands, Yohan can barely spare a thought for anything else beyond the shape of the other man against him. Beyond them, everything else is dull to the senses, he can only focus on one thing, hands shifting to hold the other man by the hips, tugging more firmly so that Gaon's shoulders have to dig into the car more firmly, dragging him more solidly against the shape of his thigh. )
Whatever you want. ( Slow to put his words to the forefront, tipping forward again to press them both chest to chest. ) Kim Gaon.
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Bujangnim-- ( solely because it feels filthy to say it here, forbidden. a plea to someone else, a different space. not work-related but appealing to something they very much aren't here and now. a mockery of it, almost, his head falling back, mouth open as he groans.
it's this angle that catches the glint of light out of the corner of his eye, just as he's snaking his free hand up into the hair at the back of yohan's head, trying to guide his mouth to gaon's neck again. he doesn't register it at first, too focused on the task at hand, but the vehicle hits a bump that flashes the headlights up again and gaon abruptly remembers where they are, what they're doing, the stakes-- )
Kang Yohan-- ( he drags him away more than shoves him, uses his whole body to stagger him back a step enough to break them apart. ) There's a car.
( and there's a huge fire beyond them that they haven't called in. that they specifically shouldn't be found near. gaon does shove yohan towards the driver's side of the car now, his heart rabbiting in his chest, panic rising in a sudden confusing war with the heat of arousal already in him as he scrambles around to throw himself into the passenger seat. )
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For a second Yohan's mind refuses to catch up, body insistent on chasing the warmth of Gaon's own, lips smarting from the brutality of the kiss. Then understanding filters in. He laughs, a wild thing in the dark, staggers a little back to the driver's door and slides himself to the seat, mentally back to spinning plates and careful plans. If he leans over the center console to reach for Gaon's seatbelt just to plug it in himself, if he lingers for a brief moment with their faces too close in the dark, if his gaze drops to his mouth once, then that's his own business. He's behaving spectacularly well and should be rewarded for it. The car peels out of the layby quickly either way, taking them diligently and quietly away from the scene of the crime.
There are probably things that need to be said. Yohan doesn't put voice to any of them.
Instead the drive is hushed, the sounds of the wind outside, their breathing easing from harsh into slow, nothing but the hush of intimacy. Yohan is cautious with his hands on the wheel, only sneaks the bare minimum of glances the other man's way, as though they are a finite resource. He thinks about reaching out. He thinks about nothing at all. The house is dark, and silent when they eventually pull up. Elijah should be asleep by now - he'd texted, this time - the space gloomy and creaking around them as they creep inside. Yohan toes off his boots in the dark, watching Gaon from the corner of his eye. In the office they make to part ways, but something pulls sound from him finally, like a dam burst. It's a singular note, a protest. The younger man looks his way. )
Kim Gaon --.
( He's in his space without realising it, eyes glittering there in the dim, shadowy light. Two palms lift, cup the other man's face, a thumb stroking against the sharpness of his cheekbone. He can smell smoke, it clings to their clothes like a ghost, and he thinks he can still see the flicker of it there in the fathomless space of Gaon's own gaze. Yohan opens his mouth again, helpless. )
Kim Gaon.
( What is there to say? That he did well? That now he sees? That Yohan is sorry? It all pales in comparison. Something feels hooked around his ribs now, which means whatever plans he might have had in catching this specific soul within his grasp might have backfired. He hums, makes to let go, move away, thinks better of it when the moment quivers, knife-edge sharp. In the end there's no other solution but to curve an arm around Gaon's waist and yank him closer, mouth pressed just once against the other man's own in a hungry push before he forcibly removes himself again. His hand lifts, presses to his own lips. He laughs again, a silent huff. ) Aish, goodnight, Kim Gaon.
( See - he has learnt. )
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he spends most of the car ride with his eyes out the window trying to wind everything back into the hollows of his chest.
it's most of the way under control by the time they're home. existing halfway outside of himself, it's all he can do to trail a half-step behind yohan, not uncertain but not wholly undazed. he could retreat up the stairs to his room. he could be okay with that. he might have to take some extra steps to be able to sleep tonight but he could survive with this knot of too many things lodged in his throat. he's ready to say it, too, swallowing hard past it, eyes lifting.
but then yohan.
but then yohan.
it's tinder sparking. gaon is audience again as kang yohan pours gasoline on a building made for burning and he drops the lighter like he doesn't think it will ignite anything.
the scalding of yohan's hands lingers in gaon's cheeks as he surges back in, closing the space that yohan's just given himself. whatever excuse, whatever reason he has for thinking this is done has been made forfeit and gaon all but growls as he pushes kang yohan against the edge of his desk and pins him there with his hips. he can't just. he can't just kiss him like it's fucking punctuation and send him on his way. a pat on the head. a job well done. gaon's hands fist in yohan's jacket again and he hauls him in close, his eyes aflame, every part of him fucking singing. )
Kang Yohan. We're not done.
( and he kisses him again, bruising, spiteful retribution for the kiss yohan tried to end it on. )
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He can feel it licking at his skin, the heat of a blaze so prominent every inch feels like it's beginning to singe. He is no stranger to the concept. He knows it intimately. But instead it is just Gaon's nearness, the harshness of his hands, the meanness of his mouth, the fury, resettling, and that is all right, that is better. Yohan makes a singular note of sound, not a protest, not quite - a punched out breath, before his own fingers reach to shove underneath the fabric of the other man's jacket, push at it incessantly like he'd wanted to before, moving back into the kiss like it's a fight. )
Kim Gaon.
( An undertone, pressed to skin. He abandons the jacket, instead loops his fingers in Gaon's belt buckles to drag him nearer, arousal spiking again. Has he ever wanted quite like this before? He doesn't think so. Because there is something damning in how they fit together, in how Yohan so badly wants to take. If he could, he'd sink his teeth in to the marrow, and that should frighten him, really. Instead it just incenses him. ) Is there something you need?
( Lips, broken away so the question comes against the hollow of his throat, the scent of the smoke lingering. He breathes deep in a way that has him shuddering, leans back to look at the younger man in the barely there light. It's easier then to bury his hands in Gaon's hair, to surge from the desk like a wave, body to body in an inelegant crash. There is no grace in the way they kiss now, stripped down of all refinement to the basest of instinct. If he'd had a plan to seduce it's been thrown out of the window, or left to smoulder at the house. Instead all he can do is sweep broad hands wherever they drop, frantic with their clumsy aimlessness. )
Let me.
( And this, now, without the edge of his usual superiority, roughened. Teeth catch on Gaon's bottom lip, tug slightly, hands stealing under his shirt to splay against the shape of his spine. )
Let me take you to bed. Kim Gaon. Let me make you feel good.
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( without question, without thought. the inevitability that they've been steadily tripping towards, a backburner of a question lingering between them, not an if but a when. a threat looming. a promise gaon's desperate to keep.
he's thought about kang yohan more than he'll ever admit. he has the sensation of him pressed full-bodied against him, chest to hip, skin on skin. he's never seen him fully unclothed but he thinks about the feeling of yohan's sturdy chest pressed to his back and the solidity of his thigh between his legs and every place yohan's hands have ever touched his skin. a palm to his throat, fingers on his cock, gaon against the wall in the shower playing images in his mind he doesn't have the words for aloud.
and here, now. now. he couldn't say no if he wanted to. the blood ringing in his ears drowns out any other options and yohan is a wall of fire he's desperate to throw himself into. he arches up against him, presses his tongue into his mouth, and uses the kiss as a distraction to actually shove his jacket down his shoulders, dislodging yohan's hands from under his shirt so that he can rock back a step and drag both sleeves off at the same time. the sound the leather makes as it falls is more satisfying than it should be, something accomplished, and gaon's hands find yohan's hips to push him back towards his own bedroom. hungry. demanding. his skin feels too tight for his body.
who is he, now? something new. something different even to where the night began. something desperate to feel kang yohan's skin against his own. )
Take me to bed.
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There's no elegance in it, not really. He yanks him through his bedroom door with single-minded focus, uses the length of Gaon's body to press it closed. Yohan crowds him in the space with a smile glinting in the dark. One hand fits to the other man's side, locks the door with quick ministrations, mouth colliding again. Like before, he finds the spaces to fit himself in, hips to hips against the wood, lips bruising in a gluttonous kiss. Gaon's mouth is a piercing warmth when his tongue pushes in, his own hands slipping back underneath the hem of his shirt to spread against the other man's stomach again, curving around his waist. They're both half hard, he can feel that, knows if the dizzying need that exists in him is anything to go by then there's very little pressure needed to get them both there. So he hums into the kiss, breaks away with a feral little sound, yanks Gaon's shirt up and over his head in the next motion. It gets thrown somewhere, and then Yohan is curling fingers around his wrist to tug him off balance again. )
Look at you.
( Breathed as he twists to guide Gaon back towards the bed, still incapable of letting go even as he's shoving him down against the mattress. It's so easy to follow, he laughs when they try to reorientate themselves, ducks closer only to bite at the hinge of shoulder and throat, leans back to finally shove his own jacket the rest of the way, letting it fall to the floor with a thud. )
Kim Gaon.
( Whispered. Touch insatiable, fingers fanning Gaon's chest just so he can squeeze along with the sharp inhale, black eyes watchful and attentive. Yohan kisses him again in the next moment, breath pitched too heavy. )
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it shouldn't work for him. he already knows that it does, that it's too late for introspection on the matter when the breath in his lungs gets knocked loose by the way kang yohan drags him around. he's nothing more than base responses, body bending to meet the demands, mouth hungry, fingers grabbing hold to whatever he can reach. he wants in massive, abstract ways, heaving with it, too big to contain, and yohan only feeds it, presses too close, encourages all the exact behaviours that gaon has managed to keep shut down. it's why this never happens, why hookups have been few and far between, just casual affairs that peter out quietly in the background. because none of them are like this, none of them burn, none of them climb on top of him like they want to devour him and he couldn't name anyone that he'd ever let do it.
yohan's eyes on him send a new heat to his gut, something deep and aching, something no one has ever sparked before. yohan has spent a lot of time watching him but never quite like this, like a wealth of options have been suddenly opened to him, a dozen doors unlocked. the heat of his hands is scorching compared to the chill of the room and gaon groans into the kiss as his fingers find yohan's sides, drive up under his shirt until it's caught on his armpits. he twists his hands into it, pulls it taut across the span of his shoulder blades, and huffs an incredulous laugh into yohan's mouth. )
Pansanim--
( dark, molten, dragged into the slick of yohan's lips against his own, only half a joke in the title. he pulls the shirt over yohan's head, mussing his hair, breaking the kiss, and leaves it to yohan to get the rest of the way off because he's too busy pulling him back into another kiss, pressing his tongue into his mouth with a voracity he didn't know he had in him. his hands are already skating down to yohan's belt, blindly working it open, body arching up to meet him at every point. )
Kang Yohan-- ( he digs his teeth into yohan's lower lip. ) Take your pants off.
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Something hard won. )
Aish, so demanding.
( Teasing, still. He squeezes his palms around Gaon's side, uses his grip as balance to lean in and drag their mouths together in something sweet, clumsy with longing. Only once he's satisfied does he pull back to start helping, belt abandoned with a rattle, fingers gracelessly yanking free the button of his jeans. They get shoved down his thighs in a shimmy, kicked off, taking one sock with them and the other toed off immediately after. It leaves Yohan in just dark underwear, hovering over Goan with wild-eyed intent, already hard, already frantic. )
Do you like what you see, Kim Gaon? ( It's instinct tugging him back in, crawling up the length of Gaon's body again, knees against each side of his hips. His own hands fold back to his waist, flexing, before his thumb slides under the waistband with daring. ) Do I get to take yours off too?
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it's the latter, right now.
reaching for yohan as he crawls back in, gaon's eyes greedy with how much skin is made available to him. he's seen it before but never to touch, to take advantage of. his hands skate up yohan's chest, a reverse of the path yohan's hands took down his own. )
I will if you don't.
( a threat, bold. demanding. his hips rise to press against yohan's hand as he curls his own over the back of yohan's neck and drags him back down to kiss him again, hungry and impatient. the urgency is a live thing, itching at the back of his neck, in his wrists and his hips. he sinks his teeth into the bow of yohan's top lip like a dare, bearing down just a little too hard to be considered polite. )
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There's something about this that feels unexpectantly bold. Yohan is no stranger to sex. And yet, dragging his touch over Gaon's clothed erection, thumb stroking along his length. something feels monumental. He could tell himself it's because of a shift in their dynamic, a change in their relationship, but that was fairly destined either way. It's just Gaon. Touching someone Yohan actually wants. Taking something he needs.
He breaks away, trails his lips along the shape of the other man's jaw, sneaks his fingers underneath the waistband of his underwear just as he drags his tongue along Gaon's frantic pulse point. )
Kim Gaon.
( A murmur, breathless, underwear eased the same way as the rest, words in the hollow of his throat. )
You should let me put my mouth on you.
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that first press, yohan's hand -- he's in the office again, heat in his cheeks, panic rising in a way he knows is addicting. it's a different kind of panic here, a sudden rush of want so potent he's dizzy with it, breathless, keening into yohan's mouth as he presses into his hand, his fingers. his own fingers hook on the back of yohan's arm just above his elbow, holding on, wheezing a little as his head tips back into the bed.
there's no room for shame or fear or hesitation here. it's been burned away a half dozen times, lingering in his bloodstream, a promise of more that's here and now. he swallows hard, loudly, his other hand pushing into yohan's hair as he lifts his hips and pushes his cock towards yohan's fingers. )
Anything-- ( god, and he's slurring already, want thick in his throat. he'd agree to pretty much anything at this point if it means more skin, more touch, more yohan consuming all the air around him. it's clear in his eyes too when he rolls them down to yohan's face, shiny with hunger, with something too pent-up and desperate for release. ) Just do it.
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He's gorgeous.
And so there's no other choice but to cup both hands against those heated cheeks, holding Gaon steady so that Yohan can kiss him, fabric clad cock dragging against the other man's stomach muscles. He can feel the heat of him everywhere they touch, and that too has his head spinning. There's too much warmth in the room, too much threatening to consume him. So he satisfies himself with a serious of desperate, teeth-edged kisses, first to Gaon's mouth, then to his throat, sucking a singular mark to the skin just below where his collar would sit, letting his lips take their own meandering path.
His chest holds a particularly appealing canvas, and Yohan pauses there, palms fitting to his ribs, two hands squeezing lightly. It's so easy to drag his mouth across Gaon's sternum, feather light, hand shifting higher so he can run a thumb over a peaking nipple. Cute enough that he can't help but drag his nail over the nub, gaze flickering upwards. Yohan's lips replace it seconds after regardless, mouth hot, tongue a drag, inhale sharp and heady. )
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Kang Yohan.
( sharp, a protest to the cautious treatment. he's forced to swallow it a second later when yohan's mouth finds him and he jerks under him, caught off guard by the flare of heat that it sends racing to his cock. he curses under his breath and palms over the back of yohan's head, grip wide across the span of his neck, fingers splaying against the plane of his shoulders just to drag his nails right back up to twist his fingers mean into yohan's hair. )
Yohan-ah.
( a whine, a demand, an endearment. )
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It stutters his movements, a singular blip easily explained away by the tugging of Gaon's hand in his hair, his shuddering breath muffled against the warmth of the other man's skin. Yohan bites him in retaliation without thinking about it, teeth against the sensitive edge of his nipple before he drags his mouth over his heaving chest to do the same to the other. As much as Yohan wants to take his time, to litter all that flushed skin with his kisses, leave marks across the canvas, the energy in him doesn't have the patience for it.
Next time, he tells himself, next time.
It's easy to shift, muscles in his arms straining briefly when he moves to situate himself more easily between Gaon's thighs. Between their bodies he can feel the heat of the other man's cock against his stomach. He presses close to drag them together, trailing his lips down a shaking stomach, humming hungrily into his skin before he finally lowers himself more properly to the mattress, shoving Gaon's thighs apart with impunity so that he can rest between them.
A crooked grin flashes, eyes lifting dark, Yohan shifting to rest on his elbows so he can run fingertips lightly up the length of the other man's swollen, flushed cock. It twitches under his touch, desperate. Beading prettily at the head. He hadn't been able to see last time, and the sight makes his mouth water a little, eager. )
Is there something you want, Kim Gaon?
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his brow furrows, confusion flickering across his face before yohan's fingers drag any semblance of answering away from him. his breath shudders out of him, a full-body thing, and he shifts his hips against the bed, restless and wanton, his hand still on the back of yohan's head. it's easy to let hunger drive him; his thighs fall open wider as his chest yawns open with something bigger than the both of them and he doesn't know what to do with the weight of it. )
Don't--
( and it's protest, not plea. it's admonishment, sharp, too big. his skin hums something viciously discordant as he smooths his hand down the side of yohan's face, digs his fingertips into yohan's jaw, catches his thumb on yohan's lower teeth. he's not as intimidating as yohan is, but his eyes burn with the heat of the fire they'd left behind when they meet yohan's, with all the hunger he's amassed in the weeks and weeks it's taken to get here. the message is hopefully clear enough. he doesn't have it in him to play. he might tear himself to pieces if he does. )
Don't tease.
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Another time, then.
( Because there will be another time now, he's sure of it. He won't be sated with just this, having Kim Gaon in his bed the once and never again. He's far too greedy for that. And there's something about the look on his face that spurs Yohan onwards, the flame catching between them. He could play coy, he could hold out, but after what has happened tonight he finds he doesn't want to.
So a hand curls around the base of Gaon's cock to hold him steady, Yohan's thumb stroking along a flushed vein with indulgent care. His head dips, blowing a breathy gust over the length of him, but he doesn't waste time. Instead his lips press to the other man's skin, Yohan's inhale sharp and pleased through his nose as he travels the span of his cock with his lips, warm and eager, trailing upwards so he can press a kiss just below the head. Gaon told him not to tease, and while Yohan is not quite used to being obedient, they both want the same thing. His tongue darts out to drag over the tip, flat and hot, saliva pooling in his mouth in response to the taste. Gaon is sharp and clean here, but not unpleasantly bitter, and Yohan shifts against the mattress, bullying his legs wider so he can settle better between them, smearing the head over his bottom lip before he finally takes him between both. It's slow - not out of any real desire to torment -, more that they both need time to adjust. He doesn't quite know about Gaon ( could guess, maybe ) but it's been a while since he's done this. He wants it to be good.
Sp Yohan makes a rough noise, barely there and more vibration than anything, cheeks hollowing as he sucks, gaze flickering upwards. )
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Kang Yohan--
( the heat is unbearable. a threat, ticking, looming ever closer until yohan does him the mercy of committing several different crimes at once. he makes a noise he doesn't think he's ever made before, a half-whimper that he bites back as he drags his heels up the bed. yohan's mouth is hot, an inferno of promise, a cruel weapon he wields to destroy people in all the different ways he can and now, here, gaon too. he thrusts shallowly up against yohan's tongue, a hand touching to his hair again, awash in a dizzying blaze.
it's a lesson in behaving, in stillness he can't keep. he's overwhelmed already by too many things -- the mouth, the heat, the understatedness of it, kang yohan -- but he's not prepared for the way yohan looks up. for the look in his eyes. gaon hadn't even realized he'd lifted his head far enough to see and he lets it fall back to the bed again with a miserable little grunt just to drag his hands down his face.
this is what he'd wanted, right? he'd demanded. he wasn't ready. he's not ready. the heat's already burrowing into him, splaying him open, granting yohan more than he should. he wants it badly enough it aches under his tongue. )
You can't be good at this too. ( he's dropped his hands to his chest at least, dazed, gaspingly plaintive, a step outside of himself as his mouth runs off without him. ) Have you thought about this before? I did.
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One arm curves under Gaon's thigh, palm hooked over the shape of the muscle. His fingers dig into the meat of his skin, blanching it white under his touch. The other stays wrapped around his shaft, stroking in quick and firm caresses, touching wherever his mouth can't reach. Yohan's gaze has fallen away in favour of his new priority, head bobbing. It's already a little wet, a little messy, frantic in it's own way. His breathing sounds harsh here, through his nose and panted, throat clicking as he swallows. He can't take it all - a fact that he's going to rectify with practice - but he commits attention to whatever he can, tongue and lips and even the threatening edge of his teeth all working in tandem.
Gaon squirms, and Yohan makes another noise, low enough to almost be lost but gravelly vibration that he should feel, the pressure of his mouth a sudden, firm suck before he has to lever himself up, tongue pressing to the frenulum in a tease, his palm dropping to roll Gaon's balls between his fingers. It's trial and error, but Yohan does his best to stay attuned, honed in on the way the younger man shifts, what makes him gasp, what causes him to buck up underneath Yohan's touch. It feels good, learning him like this, it feels worth something, dedicating himself to this new craft. )
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it's the fingers on his thigh that dial him in, hone his focus. he likes the pressure, the low ache, the threat of bruising. he can't analyze what that means right now, not while yohan's hell bent on proving just how disastrous his mouth can really be. gaon can barely string thoughts together already and it's just snapshots of pleasure, of urgency, the anchor on his thigh, the flash of teeth that woofs surprise out of him, jerks his hips up before he can stop them. )
Yah-- ( but it's empty protest. he twists his head to the side and presses his cheek to his shoulder as he pants, hands straying aimless across his chest, his belly, fingers flexing, fluttering, halfway to reaching for himself before he draws them back up. it shouldn't be this easy to let go and yet gaon's let the flush in his cheeks dictate the way he hitches his hips up, angling for yohan's fingers, his mouth.
he presses the side of his knee to the outside of yohan's arm, hemming him in, urging him on. he's not anywhere close to anything yet but it's a strange sensation to understand how easily he could end up there with kang yohan's specific brand of focus. he wants this all the time, now. already. he'll be thinking about yohan's fingers on his balls every time he touches them himself. he wants to lay in bed for hours and let yohan touch him everywhere. he wants to be pushed over the edge immediately.
he's never going to get anything useful done ever again. )
Fuck. ( emphatic, a half-sob, back arching up off the bed. ) Fuck.
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The heaviness it inspires, the pressure, the way Gaon squirms, chest heaving, when Yohan looks up.
He pulls away only to breathe properly for a second, lips staying to drag along the length, fingers re-curling to stroke him from root to tip and then Yohan's tongue over the slit, drinking in more of that sharp aroused taste. It's heady. It's intoxicating. He's never felt the allure of addiction but he thinks he could find it here, in the way Gaon trembles underneath him, an animal thrashing. He knows he could easily become dependent, the head of his cock on Yohan's waiting tongue like a sacrament, and something realigning when he moves to take him back inside.
It's with renewed focus that Yohan swallows down as much of him as he possibly can, tilting his head to better deepen it, jaw relaxing, fingers squeezing. He drags his thumbnail down a flushed vein, a hint of danger where his teeth are tucked away. And he really will leave bruises now, the other hand latching on to keep Gaon still, keep him caught. )
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he twists in yohan's hold, against it, and ends up dragging his arm across his face to push himself up onto his elbows with a restlessness he can't contain. yohan's mouth is a furnace and his fingers are just rough enough that he feels every pass, every bump and bend and gaon watches him down the length of his body, eyes blown dark, fixed on where yohan's mouth closes around him.
this is worse than the shelves in the office. heat strikes right to the core of him and he can feel his cock twitch in yohan's mouth, the precome that leaks out of him against yohan's tongue. he makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat, still trying to thrust up against where yohan's holding him pinned, his free leg hitching up around yohan's shoulder so he can press his heel against yohan's back. )
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He want to pull all the thoughts from his head out of his dick, is intent on it now. Revenge for every single second of distraction.
For how badly he has shaken up Yohan's control.
He might like it too much, the way Gaon twitches, thrashes. He rolls up to meet Yohan like a wave upon the shore, and Yohan hums a singular groaned out note, the hand digging into his thigh shifting to pin him down instead, arm against his waist. It's barely even a real protest, he just thinks they both need grounding. He's certainly strong enough to keep the younger man reasonably pinned, and it draws back some form of power, his head drawing up to hold just the tip between his lips, the corners curving into a brief smirk before he lowers himself again, wet suction, dark gaze lifting once more. )
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it had been such a distant thing at first. he's not so easily undone. just a simple thing to let yohan work at him, a tease, a taste, the beginnings of something. he should have known he was wrong, that there was doom etching into the meat of him the moment he agreed to this because it's no surprise that yohan is quick and cruel and clever here but gaon had assumed that he'd at least stood a chance.
stupid. foolish.
already there's a familiar weight in his balls, heat spiking higher with each little choice. there's enough of a sheen of sweat starting on his skin that yohan's forearm sticks where they touch and gaon curses to himself as he rocks up against him, tests the boundaries of where he's held. he's toppled immediately when yohan looks up at him, his own head dropping back between his shoulders as he ruts mindlessly up towards yohan's mouth, shallow little jerks into that heat, that void. his fingers twist into the blanket and each panted breath hitches a little on the exhale, a quick staccato beat that plays out his undoing. )
Kang Yohan-- we--
( a thousand things. his cheeks are hot. he wants to hold yohan by the hair and fuck into his mouth. he wants to lie here and be taken apart. he doesn't want this to be over so quickly.
a warning, then. protest. he's whining. ) I won't last--
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He can picture it. Holding Kim Gaon down by the waist, taking as much of him as Yohan can, sucking him down into firm, wet heat with no other recourse than to give himself up to it. It's a pretty picture. It's heady. The power of having the other man at his mercy makes his head spin, desperate with his own desire. But he wants more. Wants to sink into him with all the same terrible insistence as he feels when they fight, the pull of their connection chaining them together. There will be time later to tease, there will be space to see how much he can wring out of Gaon. Neither of them have the patience for that now, urgency too sharp.
He pulls off with a pop, fingers squeezing the base of his cock as if to stave off something. Yohan presses the purse of his lips to the head once in a strangely reverent move, then levers himself up off of his stomach, letting go to crawl back up the length of Gaon's body. His lips are shiny with spit when he grins, wolfish, the front of his boxers damp with his own arousal. He curls a hand around the other man's jaw, thumb against his bottom lip, breath rough and panted. )
Next time.
( A promise.
He ducks closer though, scant inches apart. )
Can I kiss you again, Gaon?
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money faaaaace
any time i mention a face it's money face
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