( 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. )
( he's half-distracted, busy trying to pull all the discordant reams of himself back under control, and yohan still manages to eke a shudder out of him with that grip that resonates through his thighs. he's panting as yohan picks his way up, letting his legs fall apart to fit him, letting his elbows give out, letting himself be chased back into the bed.
he loves yohan this close, predatory. chasing something, eager to claim. he likes him taking up space, consuming him, touching him like he has every right to and more. his eyes are half-lidded, mouth open, breath hot against yohan's thumb and his tongue sweeps out to touch to it without thinking, watching yohan's face with a hunger he doesn't have a name for. )
You better be doing more than kissing me.
( reaching to push his fingers into yohan's hair, to pull apart the careful styling, to curl them into it so he can drag yohan down into another kiss, too aware that the sharp taste on his tongue is all gaon. another fire stoked, a groan from deep in his chest as he pushes his tongue into yohan's mouth to chase it. )
( They kiss like there's something to prove. Yohan's tongue forcing the taste of Gaon further into his mouth, his hand moving to bury itself at the nape of his neck, the meat of his palm against a thundering pulse. It feels like a fight in the way that it's satisfying, an ache in his jaw and his adrenaline spiking. For a moment he settles against the other man, a heavy, eager weight, the shape of his clothed cock against the divot in his thigh and Yohan's hips rolling once, twice, a mindless thrust as his breath pants between them. This, too, would be good enough. His thoughts feel overcrowded, desperate want blaring a list of all the things he wants to do to Gaon, all the things they could do together. Rutting like animals to a release would hardly be unpleasant, and he has to break away with a laugh before he gives himself entirely up to the idea. )
You're too tempting.
( Voice gravelly. Like Gaon should read his mind, maybe.
But Yohan kisses him again, a singular beat, then levers himself to leaning across the bed, the drawer in his nightstand rattling when he yanks it open with clumsy haste. He keeps one hand on Gaon as he rifles through the contents, pushing things aside with uncharacteristic frustration before he finally finds what he's looking for. Lube, a box of condoms, bought a handful of weeks ago with some kind of surety that this would be their foregone conclusion. They both fall to the bed when he rights himself, looking down at Gaon with a high flush and piercing eyes, pleased grin wide enough to show his teeth. )
Tell me which way you want me to open you up, mm? I want you to be comfortable. Hands and knees? Or like this?
( he takes the space to try and catch his breath, chest heaving as he tries to rein himself back in again. he lifts a hand just for the sake of touching, fingers settling on yohan's side, gentle at first and then firmer as he pushes them up across the stretch of yohan's ribcage when he reaches for the drawer. there's something surreal about it all, the way the light splashes across yohan's skin, the lingering smoke on their skin, the way he can't keep his hips still even like this, seeking out any point of contact. thighs against yohan's, a knee to his hip, even the way the friction from yohan's underwear just barely burned into his skin, a little flare of ache, of something he's been seeking without knowing the question to ask in the first place.
he hadn't even realized any of the heat had receded until yohan grins at him like that, something private bared. it's there, threatening, like all the water rushed out of the sea at once just waiting to be loosed again. a breath, his mouth suddenly dry, and it crashes back into him with a violence that's only now becoming familiar. it's obvious in the way his eyes go darker still, the red of his cheeks, the harsh bob of his throat as he swallows audibly, the way his voice is all grit-- )
Like this. ( without even thinking, like it doesn't actually matter as much as yohan's hands on him matter, as much as figuring out a way to brand that smile into his bones. his fingers press into yohan's side and then his nails, biting, dragging harsh lines down his skin to hook fingertips into the front of yohan's underwear. his whole body rolls into the bed, shoulders to ribs to hips, thighs pressing against yohan's side and he drags his hand down over yohan's cock, cupping him just meanly enough that it might be a challenge. )
( Breath knocked out of him in a gust, the dark shape of his eyelashes fluttering briefly, his exhale ending in a laugh. Yohan's hips rock forward of their own accord, seeking that mean little touch in a way that has goosebumps erupting all along his skin, thighs prickling, shoulder blades tingling. He has to duck closer to claim Gaon's mouth again, an equally sharp bite to his plush bottom lip, tongue dragging over the hurt instinctively afterwards. They'll both be kiss swollen later, a fact that settles warmly in his gut, possessive. )
Stop distracting me.
( Muffled against Gaon's mouth, his breath still panted.
Yohan isn't sure he's ever been this turned on, wonders briefly if it's mostly a product of being out of practise, decides he doesn't care when he shifts to lick a glistening line of sweat from Gaon's throat, his hips rutting inelegantly against the palm of the other man's hand. ) Kim Gaon.
( Gravelly, another laugh sparking. Yohan reaches for that offending wrist, gets both in the trap of his own fingers, pins them flat to the bed too quick for a tussle. It helps that he shifts again, bodies aligning, cock against cock and the slow, agonising roll of his hips dragging them together. His hair has started to come loose now, falls into his eyes as he peers down at Gaon, lips parted. )
( there's something in the obscenity of this that gaon can't quite articulate, a hazy awareness of too many things at the same time that he feels all the way in his cheeks, a want so deep and visceral it's filled his entire body. he wants kang yohan to keep moving his hips like that, to work himself into losing control, to spill in gaon's hand, on his wrist and his fingers. he wants to watch yohan's face give into it, to see more of the way his eyes flutter, to see if it gets worse when he's overcome--
but yohan interrupts that train of thought, slowly percolating around the sting of the bite, and gaon twists against the hold instinctively, offended. he wants to protest, fingers curling in on themselves, missing the heat of yohan's cock and then everything stutters to a new kind of quiet.
it's a visible thing, the way his eyes cloud over, that haze of heat that pushes his head back into the bed as he rocks his hips up to meet yohan's. this is the real problem he's facing, as he swallows past a groan. there's too much. it's all good. he'd be happy with this. he wants more of it. he hitches his leg up over yohan's hip without having to think about it and his wrists twist in yohan's grip. )
Fuck--( a gust, an exhale, grated. he's never been fucked before and he thinks if he tried to deviate from it now he might actually die. but he whines all the same and writhes a little, a sinuous, hungry thing. ) Only if we do this-- ( lifting his hips, dragging their cocks together again. he can feel where there's precome smearing near the tip and he doesn't know if it's his or yohan's. ) This next time.
If Yohan were just an inch crueller he thinks he'd devise some way to keep him like this, sex drunk and stupid in his bed, trapped like a pretty little prisoner. He curses the past him for not foreseeing any of it, the wave of lust, the pink of Gaon's skin, the hunger that swells inside of him. Why did he waste time with other schemes when there could have been this? His hips stutter of their own accord, grip tightening hard enough to bruise. When he huffs out a laugh it sharpens his smile, gaze flickering wherever it can land on the other man's face, his flushed throat, the heaving of his chest. )
Next time. Any time. We'll do whatever we want, Kim Gaon.
( He won't be sated now.
But there's a more urgent matter at hand. Yohan has to resettle between his legs, bullying them apart with his own thighs, one hand finding the lube and the other curving around Gaon's cock for a singular mean little stroke before it slides away, curls around a knee to push it up towards Gaon's chest. ) If you want it like this I'm going to need your help, mm? Stay there.
( His teeth catch on the lid of the lube to yank it open, pouring some over his fingers, terrible smirk well in place. )
( he can feel the ghost of yohan's hands even as they let him go. his pulse pounds in the imprints of yohan's fingers and gaon immediately reaches for him, for that look in his eyes, for anything and everything. but yohan's leaning away and gaon's fingertips graze his shoulder, his forearm, just barely catch on his wrist and he hiccups a choked little noise, thrusting up into the space where yohan's hand had been.
he feels disjointed, too big for his skin. he's a mess of wants and aches, of bridled hunger come loose. he breathes too hard, too heavy, eyes on yohan's face as he resettles his hips against the bed, against the cradle of yohan's thighs, hand behind his own knee now to hold it up out of the way. if not for how badly he wants this he might feel the vulnerability in it, opening himself up so willingly. how is it one of the most dangerous places he could be right now, but simultaneously the most secure he's felt in years? he doesn't believe everything kang yohan says, doesn't agree with half of it, but this? well, it's obvious how he feels about this.
he'd let this man ruin him.
whether it's old adrenaline, the image of yohan dropping a lighter into fuel he'd poured that's burned into his memory, or the self-satisfied smirk on his face now, gaon doesn't realize there are words until they're already out of him, pitched low. )
Kang Yohan, I'm not fragile. ( a challenge. maybe an assurance. maybe he just wants it badly enough. maybe he just needs to make everything a fight, even lust-clouded and panting. )
( He sucks a noise in through his teeth, mock offended, glittering gaze lifting once to Gaon's face to give him a little quirk of his eyebrows. )
Does Kim Gaon think goading works on me?
( It doesn't. Not usually. Outside of this room Yohan is an endless wall against every kind of clever taunt there is. He's glacial, and impenetrable, an unpassable fjord. Except. Here and now, Gaon's fiery expression chips away at the distance, starts it melting like the sweat prickling down his spine. It's an almost unnoticeable shift, but he thinks he'll be feeling the consequences for years to come either way. An erosion of his defences, an irreversible drop in the ocean. Changing. It's instinct that has him huff out a breath, taking Gaon's other leg to manoeuvre it over Yohan's own hip, a caress of his palm only once. It's easier still to drag his greedy gaze down the length of Gaon's body, warm with want.
He takes his time, lets his eyes linger, mouth curling when Gaon shifts.
Slick fingers tease between his thighs, skate over his balls and press lightly to the soft skin behind them, a soft little curl of his touch before it moves on. It's almost meandering, but Yohan does not taunt right back. Instead two oiled digits tease against the rim of muscle, a narrow and focused concentration settling over his face. ) Breathe, Gaon.
( A reminder, as he pushes one inside. Slowly. Carefully, despite the other man's insistence that he's not breakable. He's sinfully tight, and Yohan feels him like a vice clamping down. Moisture prickles at his hairline, his exhale short. It feels like the fire all over again, the heat lapping, judgement clouding. But he won't let himself rush, not when Gaon makes a noise as he bypasses the first knuckle, stops short at the second. )
he doesn't realize he's forgotten to until yohan reminds him. he's not nervous. he's not worried. he thinks he should be more apprehensive about what's going on and he would be, if it wasn't an inevitability. if he hadn't spent so much time alone thinking about it, his teeth in his lip as he worked himself over the edge in the privacy of the shower, his bed, his own home. nothing he's ever imagined has compared to the reality of yohan's hands and the heat of his skin and that look in his eyes like he might consume gaon entirely if given half a chance.
the first push rolls his eyes closed, mouth open on a tight exhale, a huff of sound. his whole body rocks back with it, his thighs tensing, fingers biting in where he's holding on and he waits for, what? pain? it's the thought of it that's working him up now, kang yohan easing his way inside of him. his cock twitches as he pushes his shoulders back into the bed, fighting to keep himself still. )
Yeah. ( he's fine. he's great. he dips his chin to his chest to watch yohan through his lashes, cheeks flush with heat, and clenches tight around that finger, groaning his name. ) Kang Yohan.
( An answer to the call, pleasantly distracted. Yohan hovers over him with an expression bordering on obsessively intent, his gaze skittering over Gaon's face and down over his chest, to his sweetly leaking cock, the space where he's clinging to a singular finger now. He's a sight, and it makes him want too many things at once - to sink his teeth into Gaon's bare shoulder, maybe, to bend him in half, probably, to have everything all at once without care for the real world? Absolutely. )
Patience.
( It's maybe a taunt, a slight tease. He works that finger as carefully as he can, shifting his grip so that his thumb can slide over the sensitive skin of his perineum while he moves. Gaon is warm, a hot, sucking heat, and it's distracting enough that Yohan's thoughts are all narrowed down on just this, manipulating the other man's body to its own pleasure, slick digit pressing as high as he can get it before he pulls out again. The second is a tighter squeeze. Yohan's breath rattles through his teeth as he presses them both inside, slowly, so slow it feels agonising, the heat in the room inching higher. )
Kim Gaon. ( An exhale, the tight stretch making him forget himself. ) Fuck. Relax for me.
( they're not even anywhere. they've barely done anything. gaon's taken girls to bed before but it's never been anywhere near as intense as this is already. whether it's the events of the night already or the weeks and weeks of buildup, gaon feels too worked up for where they are. it's kang yohan's fault either way. he's a study in demolishing any understanding gaon had of himself before yohan and now it's a new monster entirely, dedicating itself to his undoing.
one finger was fine. an intrusion, maybe. two is another story and gaon's whole body arches up with it, a breath shaking out of him. he can feel the muscle stretching to accommodate, struggling against it, and he draws a deep breath in through his nose that fills his chest, holds it as he tries to convince his body to relax. it happens in increments, his face scrunching in concerted effort; he wraps his free hand loose around his cock and strokes it once, twice, thumb over the head as he shakily exhales. )
Your hands. ( muttered mostly to himself, his eyes closed, chased by another big breath in. but it's working and when gaon clenches on yohan's fingers again there's a noticeable difference when he lets up, though he still feels the stretch all the way to the soles of his feet. ) Touch me.
( Underneath all that insufferable teasing there's something new in Yohan's voice, a tender kind of strain in his words, his focus on Gaon and Gaon alone. Still, taunt delivered he's quick to knock the other man's hand away from his cock, replace it with his own, fingers wrapping too tight as he spears him further onto the fingers of his other hand, laughing a little when Gaon's spine bows with it. ) Aish, you're getting what you want, aren't you?
( Immediately that cruel edge is replaced though, like the sting of a biting kiss soothed over. Yohan's wrist twists to move his fingers slow but deep, touch stretching. He breathes through his own arousal, smearing precome over the flushed head of Gaon's cock with deliberate intent, enjoying the sticky mess of it all. )
Does it feel good? ( Voice dipping low as his fingers pull almost all the way out, the rim of Gaon's hole tightening around him before he pushes back inside again, a hum before his next words. ) Tell me, Gaon. Am I making you feel good?
Yah-- ( but it's quiet, soft, protest for the sake of protest as his attention dials in. he's getting what he wants. he's getting so much he's already overwhelmed by it, yohan's hands in concert, sparking too much in him at once. diabolical. cruel.
it's nothing less than he expected and yet it's so much more than he could have guessed. right and wrong in the same breath. suffering for it, now. thriving.
his leg lists, forgotten, grip loose under his knee as yohan slides his fingers back in and gaon's whole body rolls up with it. it's a terrible, wondrous fucking thing, a burn of an ache that nearly chokes him, sets sweat beading under his arms, at the base of his spine. he's seen yohan's hands do so much and this feels like a whole new threat, opening up to him, letting him see the effect of it. but it's impossible not to and he tips his head to the side as his hips rut down to meet yohan's fingers again, chin into his shoulder as he breathes.
he forgets to answer, distracted, hand splayed flat against his stomach where it trembles with the strain of trying to stay relaxed. )
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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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he loves yohan this close, predatory. chasing something, eager to claim. he likes him taking up space, consuming him, touching him like he has every right to and more. his eyes are half-lidded, mouth open, breath hot against yohan's thumb and his tongue sweeps out to touch to it without thinking, watching yohan's face with a hunger he doesn't have a name for. )
You better be doing more than kissing me.
( reaching to push his fingers into yohan's hair, to pull apart the careful styling, to curl them into it so he can drag yohan down into another kiss, too aware that the sharp taste on his tongue is all gaon. another fire stoked, a groan from deep in his chest as he pushes his tongue into yohan's mouth to chase it. )
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You're too tempting.
( Voice gravelly. Like Gaon should read his mind, maybe.
But Yohan kisses him again, a singular beat, then levers himself to leaning across the bed, the drawer in his nightstand rattling when he yanks it open with clumsy haste. He keeps one hand on Gaon as he rifles through the contents, pushing things aside with uncharacteristic frustration before he finally finds what he's looking for. Lube, a box of condoms, bought a handful of weeks ago with some kind of surety that this would be their foregone conclusion. They both fall to the bed when he rights himself, looking down at Gaon with a high flush and piercing eyes, pleased grin wide enough to show his teeth. )
Tell me which way you want me to open you up, mm? I want you to be comfortable. Hands and knees? Or like this?
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he hadn't even realized any of the heat had receded until yohan grins at him like that, something private bared. it's there, threatening, like all the water rushed out of the sea at once just waiting to be loosed again. a breath, his mouth suddenly dry, and it crashes back into him with a violence that's only now becoming familiar. it's obvious in the way his eyes go darker still, the red of his cheeks, the harsh bob of his throat as he swallows audibly, the way his voice is all grit-- )
Like this. ( without even thinking, like it doesn't actually matter as much as yohan's hands on him matter, as much as figuring out a way to brand that smile into his bones. his fingers press into yohan's side and then his nails, biting, dragging harsh lines down his skin to hook fingertips into the front of yohan's underwear. his whole body rolls into the bed, shoulders to ribs to hips, thighs pressing against yohan's side and he drags his hand down over yohan's cock, cupping him just meanly enough that it might be a challenge. )
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Stop distracting me.
( Muffled against Gaon's mouth, his breath still panted.
Yohan isn't sure he's ever been this turned on, wonders briefly if it's mostly a product of being out of practise, decides he doesn't care when he shifts to lick a glistening line of sweat from Gaon's throat, his hips rutting inelegantly against the palm of the other man's hand. ) Kim Gaon.
( Gravelly, another laugh sparking. Yohan reaches for that offending wrist, gets both in the trap of his own fingers, pins them flat to the bed too quick for a tussle. It helps that he shifts again, bodies aligning, cock against cock and the slow, agonising roll of his hips dragging them together. His hair has started to come loose now, falls into his eyes as he peers down at Gaon, lips parted. )
Don't you want me to fuck you?
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but yohan interrupts that train of thought, slowly percolating around the sting of the bite, and gaon twists against the hold instinctively, offended. he wants to protest, fingers curling in on themselves, missing the heat of yohan's cock and then everything stutters to a new kind of quiet.
it's a visible thing, the way his eyes cloud over, that haze of heat that pushes his head back into the bed as he rocks his hips up to meet yohan's. this is the real problem he's facing, as he swallows past a groan. there's too much. it's all good. he'd be happy with this. he wants more of it. he hitches his leg up over yohan's hip without having to think about it and his wrists twist in yohan's grip. )
Fuck--( a gust, an exhale, grated. he's never been fucked before and he thinks if he tried to deviate from it now he might actually die. but he whines all the same and writhes a little, a sinuous, hungry thing. ) Only if we do this-- ( lifting his hips, dragging their cocks together again. he can feel where there's precome smearing near the tip and he doesn't know if it's his or yohan's. ) This next time.
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If Yohan were just an inch crueller he thinks he'd devise some way to keep him like this, sex drunk and stupid in his bed, trapped like a pretty little prisoner. He curses the past him for not foreseeing any of it, the wave of lust, the pink of Gaon's skin, the hunger that swells inside of him. Why did he waste time with other schemes when there could have been this? His hips stutter of their own accord, grip tightening hard enough to bruise. When he huffs out a laugh it sharpens his smile, gaze flickering wherever it can land on the other man's face, his flushed throat, the heaving of his chest. )
Next time. Any time. We'll do whatever we want, Kim Gaon.
( He won't be sated now.
But there's a more urgent matter at hand. Yohan has to resettle between his legs, bullying them apart with his own thighs, one hand finding the lube and the other curving around Gaon's cock for a singular mean little stroke before it slides away, curls around a knee to push it up towards Gaon's chest. ) If you want it like this I'm going to need your help, mm? Stay there.
( His teeth catch on the lid of the lube to yank it open, pouring some over his fingers, terrible smirk well in place. )
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he feels disjointed, too big for his skin. he's a mess of wants and aches, of bridled hunger come loose. he breathes too hard, too heavy, eyes on yohan's face as he resettles his hips against the bed, against the cradle of yohan's thighs, hand behind his own knee now to hold it up out of the way. if not for how badly he wants this he might feel the vulnerability in it, opening himself up so willingly. how is it one of the most dangerous places he could be right now, but simultaneously the most secure he's felt in years? he doesn't believe everything kang yohan says, doesn't agree with half of it, but this? well, it's obvious how he feels about this.
he'd let this man ruin him.
whether it's old adrenaline, the image of yohan dropping a lighter into fuel he'd poured that's burned into his memory, or the self-satisfied smirk on his face now, gaon doesn't realize there are words until they're already out of him, pitched low. )
Kang Yohan, I'm not fragile. ( a challenge. maybe an assurance. maybe he just wants it badly enough. maybe he just needs to make everything a fight, even lust-clouded and panting. )
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Does Kim Gaon think goading works on me?
( It doesn't. Not usually. Outside of this room Yohan is an endless wall against every kind of clever taunt there is. He's glacial, and impenetrable, an unpassable fjord. Except. Here and now, Gaon's fiery expression chips away at the distance, starts it melting like the sweat prickling down his spine. It's an almost unnoticeable shift, but he thinks he'll be feeling the consequences for years to come either way. An erosion of his defences, an irreversible drop in the ocean. Changing. It's instinct that has him huff out a breath, taking Gaon's other leg to manoeuvre it over Yohan's own hip, a caress of his palm only once. It's easier still to drag his greedy gaze down the length of Gaon's body, warm with want.
He takes his time, lets his eyes linger, mouth curling when Gaon shifts.
Slick fingers tease between his thighs, skate over his balls and press lightly to the soft skin behind them, a soft little curl of his touch before it moves on. It's almost meandering, but Yohan does not taunt right back. Instead two oiled digits tease against the rim of muscle, a narrow and focused concentration settling over his face. ) Breathe, Gaon.
( A reminder, as he pushes one inside. Slowly. Carefully, despite the other man's insistence that he's not breakable. He's sinfully tight, and Yohan feels him like a vice clamping down. Moisture prickles at his hairline, his exhale short. It feels like the fire all over again, the heat lapping, judgement clouding. But he won't let himself rush, not when Gaon makes a noise as he bypasses the first knuckle, stops short at the second. )
money faaaaace
he doesn't realize he's forgotten to until yohan reminds him. he's not nervous. he's not worried. he thinks he should be more apprehensive about what's going on and he would be, if it wasn't an inevitability. if he hadn't spent so much time alone thinking about it, his teeth in his lip as he worked himself over the edge in the privacy of the shower, his bed, his own home. nothing he's ever imagined has compared to the reality of yohan's hands and the heat of his skin and that look in his eyes like he might consume gaon entirely if given half a chance.
the first push rolls his eyes closed, mouth open on a tight exhale, a huff of sound. his whole body rocks back with it, his thighs tensing, fingers biting in where he's holding on and he waits for, what? pain? it's the thought of it that's working him up now, kang yohan easing his way inside of him. his cock twitches as he pushes his shoulders back into the bed, fighting to keep himself still. )
Yeah. ( he's fine. he's great. he dips his chin to his chest to watch yohan through his lashes, cheeks flush with heat, and clenches tight around that finger, groaning his name. ) Kang Yohan.
any time i mention a face it's money face
( An answer to the call, pleasantly distracted. Yohan hovers over him with an expression bordering on obsessively intent, his gaze skittering over Gaon's face and down over his chest, to his sweetly leaking cock, the space where he's clinging to a singular finger now. He's a sight, and it makes him want too many things at once - to sink his teeth into Gaon's bare shoulder, maybe, to bend him in half, probably, to have everything all at once without care for the real world? Absolutely. )
Patience.
( It's maybe a taunt, a slight tease. He works that finger as carefully as he can, shifting his grip so that his thumb can slide over the sensitive skin of his perineum while he moves. Gaon is warm, a hot, sucking heat, and it's distracting enough that Yohan's thoughts are all narrowed down on just this, manipulating the other man's body to its own pleasure, slick digit pressing as high as he can get it before he pulls out again. The second is a tighter squeeze. Yohan's breath rattles through his teeth as he presses them both inside, slowly, so slow it feels agonising, the heat in the room inching higher. )
Kim Gaon. ( An exhale, the tight stretch making him forget himself. ) Fuck. Relax for me.
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( they're not even anywhere. they've barely done anything. gaon's taken girls to bed before but it's never been anywhere near as intense as this is already. whether it's the events of the night already or the weeks and weeks of buildup, gaon feels too worked up for where they are. it's kang yohan's fault either way. he's a study in demolishing any understanding gaon had of himself before yohan and now it's a new monster entirely, dedicating itself to his undoing.
one finger was fine. an intrusion, maybe. two is another story and gaon's whole body arches up with it, a breath shaking out of him. he can feel the muscle stretching to accommodate, struggling against it, and he draws a deep breath in through his nose that fills his chest, holds it as he tries to convince his body to relax. it happens in increments, his face scrunching in concerted effort; he wraps his free hand loose around his cock and strokes it once, twice, thumb over the head as he shakily exhales. )
Your hands. ( muttered mostly to himself, his eyes closed, chased by another big breath in. but it's working and when gaon clenches on yohan's fingers again there's a noticeable difference when he lets up, though he still feels the stretch all the way to the soles of his feet. ) Touch me.
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( Underneath all that insufferable teasing there's something new in Yohan's voice, a tender kind of strain in his words, his focus on Gaon and Gaon alone. Still, taunt delivered he's quick to knock the other man's hand away from his cock, replace it with his own, fingers wrapping too tight as he spears him further onto the fingers of his other hand, laughing a little when Gaon's spine bows with it. ) Aish, you're getting what you want, aren't you?
( Immediately that cruel edge is replaced though, like the sting of a biting kiss soothed over. Yohan's wrist twists to move his fingers slow but deep, touch stretching. He breathes through his own arousal, smearing precome over the flushed head of Gaon's cock with deliberate intent, enjoying the sticky mess of it all. )
Does it feel good? ( Voice dipping low as his fingers pull almost all the way out, the rim of Gaon's hole tightening around him before he pushes back inside again, a hum before his next words. ) Tell me, Gaon. Am I making you feel good?
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it's nothing less than he expected and yet it's so much more than he could have guessed. right and wrong in the same breath. suffering for it, now. thriving.
his leg lists, forgotten, grip loose under his knee as yohan slides his fingers back in and gaon's whole body rolls up with it. it's a terrible, wondrous fucking thing, a burn of an ache that nearly chokes him, sets sweat beading under his arms, at the base of his spine. he's seen yohan's hands do so much and this feels like a whole new threat, opening up to him, letting him see the effect of it. but it's impossible not to and he tips his head to the side as his hips rut down to meet yohan's fingers again, chin into his shoulder as he breathes.
he forgets to answer, distracted, hand splayed flat against his stomach where it trembles with the strain of trying to stay relaxed. )
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