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Yunseo exhales a ragged breath, his back leaning further against Keita's clothed chest. He's grateful for this position, that he can't see Keita's face while they're doing this - Keita's hand on his cock, stroking him with a firm, leisurely grip, is already too much as it is. If he had to look at Keita's face, see the raw desire painted on his handsome features, he knows he'd go tumbling down faster than the oranges he's working to keep afloat.
Three oranges rotate in the air like planets around an invisible sun, around and around again, Yunseo's wavering focus keeping them afloat. Keita's thumb laves across the head of his leaning cock, and when Yunseo breaks into a fresh round of trembles, so too does one of the oranges.
"Focus," Keita chides, breath warm against Yunseo's ear. "If you drop them, you don't get to come. You wanna come, right?"
They've been at this for thirty minutes. Yunseo doesn't think he's ever wanted to come more in his life. But beyond the primitive need for release burns a deeper desire, something more powerful and more shameful.
He knows Keita's picked up on that thought when he laughs, pumping Yunseo's cock in tandem to his melodious amusement. Yunseo feels himself turn red before Keita even answers the unspoken question:
"You are a good boy, Yunseo," Keita says, "my good boy.”
A pitiful mewl builds in Yunseo’s throat, all starving alley cat begging for whatever scraps Keita decides to throw his way. He redoubles his focus, even when Keita nuzzles behind his ear with a happy little sigh, because he will not disappoint his hyung. Good boys don’t do that.
Keita’s tongue grazes the shell of his ear, and Yunseo bites down on his bottom lip, the counterpoint of pain anchoring him to the mission. The oranges twirl and twirl, just the slightest bit shaky. Yunseo exhales again, a wet wheeze.
He needs to come. He needs to keep spinning these oranges. He needs to be hyung’s good boy.
But even the best of boys have their limits. Yunseo feels each second pass like an hour, a century, the same way he feels each bead of sweat bloom on his forehead and trickle down. Another five minutes pass, just narrowly breaking his record, when Yunseo himself breaks.
“I can’t, hyung,” Yunseo weebles, an apology and confession all wrapped in one, “please, please, no more -”
Keita glances at the clock on the wall in front of him, and Yunseo can feel the way he smiles, pleased.
“Put them away first,” Keita says.
Yunseo bites his lip again, tastes sharp iron, but he does as he’s told. Focus focus focus, he tells himself as he guides the oranges back into the bowl on the other side of the room. Normally a simple task, but Keita’s starting to pump his cock in earnest, and just as soon as the last orange plops into the bowl, Yunseo is crumpling forward with a cry, covering his belly and Keita’s shirt in ropes of come.
“Messy,” Keita coos, and the warm jab of humiliation makes Yunseo tremble, a final fat drop of come blurting onto Keita’s thumb. He makes a note to make sure none has dripped onto the classroom carpet before they leave.
They sit there for a moment, Yunseo panting like he’s run a marathon and Keita stroking his side with his clean hand. Tongue dry and lips dribbled in blood that he doesn’t bother to lick off, Yunseo’s too tired to speak - but that’s the beauty of training with a telepath, isn’t it? Was I good?
Again, Keita’s slinky smile, the warmth of a kiss to the side of his neck. So good.
The heady loop of physical pleasure and hyung’s words make Yunseo want to curl up and maybe just die for a little while, but there’s something else he wants to do first. He refocuses his telekinetic energy on a new target - and knows it’s working when Keita barks out a laugh.
“You don’t have to,” Keita says, even though he’s already scooting backward, lifting his hips to help his now unzipped pants be brought down to reveal his hard cock.
It’s Yunseo’s turn to laugh now, loopy and terribly fond as he shyly smiles up at his hyung. “I know.”
He swallows down Keita’s cock, throat a snug warm fit as always, and as Keita sighs and tangles his hand in his hair, Yunseo once again loses himself to Keita’s touch, to the tick tick tick of the clock, the enclave they’ve carved out for themselves, if only for a little while.