Work Text:
Wooyoung is frustrated, terribly so.
His plan had been flawless - wear lingerie underneath his wide comfy sweaters to get his boyfriend, who has been spending way too much time working lately, to fuck him stupid once he discovers it. That’s how it was supposed to go. In theory, at least.
Now, after a week of pining, waiting and walking around all dolled up, Wooyoung has finally had enough. And it’s exactly what he tells San when he unceremoniously drops on his lap right in the middle of the other’s online meeting.
“Wooyoung, what—,” San starts but is promptly shut up by Wooyoung’s lips on his, demanding a kiss.
And who is San to deny him?
Wooyoung giggles into the kiss, happy to finally have his boyfriend’s unwarranted attention. His smile drops as quickly as it had appeared, however, when San’s focus shifts back to his screen before his hands come up to cup Wooyoung’s face to stop him from leaning in to chase and capture San’s lips in another hungry kiss.
Wooyoung whines. “You haven’t looked at me once this week.”
“Baby,” San chuckles, gently caressing his face before his hands wander back to Wooyoung’s waist, grip tightening.
“It’s true,” Wooyoung pouts. “Please Sannie, I’ve been patient, haven’t i?”
“You have been. Very patient, in fact.” San hums in affirmation, his gaze glistening with a darkness so familiar it’s sending shivers down Wooyoung’s spine - this is exactly what he wanted.
Almost involuntarily Wooyoung’s hips rock forward to grind against San’s crotch. A low moan slipping past his lips at the stimulation and the feeling of San’s hands slowly grazing down his back before coming to a halt on his ass.
But once again, it doesn’t last long.
“Though,” San leans in, his lips brushing softly over the shell of Wooyoung’s ears. “Patience is a virtue, isn’t it, precious?”
Wooyoung scoffs, the pent-up frustration from not being allowed to come all week and San practically ignoring him, bubbling in his chest. “If you hate me you could’ve just said so, you know.”
San chuckles, pressing a short kiss on the exposed skin of Wooyoung’s shoulder where his sweater had slipped down earlier before his hands find their way underneath Wooyoung’s sweater to caress his back in a gentle motion. “You know I love you more than life itself. Just like I know that you’re more than aware of why you weren’t allowed to come this week.”
“How do you know for sure though? What if I hit my head and lost all my memories? It’s not like you would’ve noticed, seeing as you have been busy with your meetings instead of looking at your pretty boyfriend.”
Wooyoung knows he’s being silly now but he doesn’t care. He’s frustrated and horny. And he needs San to do something about both of those things - ideally immediately. But the other just laughs harder.
“Is that what this is about precious? You think I didn’t notice you making yourself look pretty for me all week?” San asks, fingers inching up the soft fabric of Wooyoung’s sweater to reveal the black lacy lingerie he’s wearing underneath.
“I did notice. I noticed every time. Watched you too, whenever you were too busy with other things to realize. Look at me,” San calls.
But before he can follow the order, San is already gripping his face, forcing Wooyoung to meet his eyes. And Wooyoung? He preens at the sudden attention given to him.
Even more so when San’s lips ghost over his own, almost kissing him before pulling away once more. “Now, be good and sit still for me while I finish this meeting. Can you do that for me, baby?”
Wooyoung nods reluctantly. “I suppose so.”
“That’s my good boy,” San smiles as he lets go of his face in favor of wrapping his arms tight around Wooyoung’s waist to pull him closer to his chest. Close enough to allow San to turn his chair - and attention - back to his laptop and the meeting with Wooyoung wrapped around him like a little Koala. And for a while, he’s fine with that. Content even.
At least until San is only muting himself after having presented his points for the past fifteen minutes instead of ending the meeting. Wooyoung groans.
“Can they just shut up?”, he whines. “Why’s this meeting so unnecessarily long?”
“It’ll be over soon, precious. Just a little longer,” San hums, pressing a short kiss to Wooyoung's forehead before returning his attention to his screen and the - unfortunately - still ongoing meeting.
And just like that Wooyoung is back to being nothing more than San’s needy boyfriend sitting in his lap. Forgotten and disregarded. But not with him, not anymore.
“Fuck me,” he blurts out before he can stop himself. Long past the point of caring for the consequences which he knows will follow after that little outburst. And yet he finds himself squirming in San’s lap as he waits for a reply.
But San only raises his eyebrow in question, a slick smile on his lips.
“Say please.”
“What?”
“You heard me, baby.”
And Wooyoung did. He just needed a moment to process that San didn’t reject him again.
“Please,” Wooyoung pauses, choosing his next words carefully. “Please Sannie. Please fuck me.”
San hums. Eyes still fixed on his screen.
“Not yet.”
“Oh, come on,” Wooyoung groans. “This is actual torture. Haven’t I been good?” Wooyoung whines, growing more and more desperate with every time he’s being denied.
“You have been,” San confirms, finally looking at Wooyoung. “Which is why you can wait a little longer. The meeting should be over in twenty minutes.”
“But- what if I cockwarm you instead. “
And Wooyoung knows that he’s playing unfairly now. Knows how much San loves having Wooyoung on his lap, cock nestled deep inside of him. Counts on it even, if he’s being completely honest, which is why he can’t help his lips curling up in a pleased smirk when he feels San hardening against his ass.
“What was that, baby?” San’s voice is low, taunting almost and Wooyoung knows that he’s close to getting what he wants if only he chooses his next words wisely.
“Let me cockwarm you, Sannie. Please. It’ll feel so good for you,” Wooyoung says, wriggling his ass over San’s clothed crotch to underline his words, who groans in reply.
“You’re actually going to be the death of me, Jung Wooyoung.”
“Is that a yes?” Wooyoung grins, the taste of success heavy and sweet on his tongue.
San nods. “It’s a yes. Have you been wearing your plug like I told you to?”
“Of course, when have I ever not followed your orders?”
San raises his eyebrow, a small amused smile playing on his lips. “Always so mouthy. Don’t think I forgot that this was supposed to be a punishment for you.”
Sans fingers ghost over the black lace of Wooyoung’s panties, certain and yet searching until they find the diamond plug fully settled inside of him and press down.
“I might still change my mind, and then what, precious?”
Wooyoung moans. “Why punish me when you can fuck me instead?” he chirps before another moan can spill from his lips at San pressing the plug even deeper, right against his sweet spot.
“You’re such a brat” San shakes his head. But by the way he laughs as he leans in to capture Wooyoung’s lips in an open-mouthed kiss, Wooyoung knows he has won this battle.
For now.
Their kiss is interrupted by a voice coming from San’s long disregarded laptop. “San, can you present us your last points again once Yeosang has finished presenting his?”
San curses quietly. Scrambling to turn back to the screen. “Stay put,” he orders with a light spank on Wooyoung’s ass before unmuting his mic.
“San, are you there?”
“Yes, sir. Of course, Sir.” San quickly mumbles into the mic. His cheeks turning red from almost having been caught.
“I’m going to make you regret that I agreed to this,” he growls once he triple-checked that he’s muted again.
And Wooyoung knows he will, especially with how easily San had complied and suddenly given in to his suggestion. But right now, with San’s eyes finding his, dark and full of desire, he can’t bring himself to care. Instead, he finds himself squirming in the other's lap at the prospect of finally having San’s cock in him.
Attention constantly shifting between the screen and Wooyoung to avoid a repeat of earlier, San roughly shoves aside Wooyoung’s pants in a swift motion to harshly fuck the plug in and out of his lubed-up hole a few times before quickly setting it aside on his desk and replacing it with three of his fingers.
“Fuck,” Wooyoung curses, his mind blanking for a second when he feels San graze over his prostate with every skilful thrust of his fingers in Wooyoung’s red puffy hole. He throws his head back in a long drawn-out moan.
“That good?” San chuckles as he begins to scissor Wooyoung open to prep him for his cock who scrambles to hold onto his broad shoulders to not collapse against him.
“You have no fucking idea.”
“I think I might,” San replies, bucking his hips up against Wooyoung’s ass, his bare cock easily sliding between Wooyoung’s cheeks. And for a brief second, Wooyoung wonders when the other pulled down his pants to free his cock but it is all forgotten when San pulls out his fingers and Wooyoung feels his tip catch onto his rim.
“San, Sannie. Please,” he gasps, whines, desperate to finally have San filling him up, deep and big, just how he likes it. “Inside, please. Can you- ahh.”
And San complies, grinning - smug and clearly satisfied with himself and Wooyoung slowly going pliant under his touch. Falling apart beneath him, just like he loves, wants , him to.
“Not so mouthy anymore now, aren’t we, precious? I should’ve known that all it takes for you to keep your pretty mouth shut are my fingers in your sloppy little hole.” He teases and it takes everything in Wooyoung to register and process the words instead of allowing himself to float and let San take over.
“Not yet,” he whispers and by the way the look in San’s eyes changes to one of pure adoration and fondness, he knows that San understood.
“Always putting up a fight, my love,” he smiles softly, pecking Wooyoung’s lips in a gentle kiss before resting their foreheads together. “I’ll take care of you once the meeting is done, I promise.”
Wooyoung nuzzles his nose. “I know, you always do. Now please, can I?”
San’s nod is all Wooyoung needs before he finally lets himself sink down on his boyfriend’s cock in one swift motion, causing them both to moan in unison.
“Fuck, still so tight, baby.” San groans. “Feel so good.”
And Wooyoung wants to reply. Wants to tell San that he feels just as good, that he loves San more than anything in this world but before he can, he’s interrupted by San’s boss calling out for him again - and so he doesn’t and instead decides to save it for later. When they’re alone and each other’s sole focus.
Stealing one last kiss from Wooyoung’s lips, San swiftly adjusts their position and signals him to be quiet, and then he shuffles forward to unmute himself again right when Wooyoung’s head comes down to rest on San’s shoulder.
And as San’s voice, low and velvety, against the crown of Wooyoung’s head, lulls him in, Wooyoung finally allows himself to slip a little deeper.
If you were to ask Woooyoung later how long the rest of the meeting lasted, he’d only give a shrug. Like this, fully seated on San’s cock - filling him just right, his tip grazing over Wooyoung’s prostate every time he moves a little - time seems to slip away from him.
His head is still resting on San’s shoulder in a comfortable, familiar haze when Wooyoung hears his boyfriend say something. It’s only when San gently nudges his side, his hands coming up to card through Wooyoung’s hair, when Wooyoung realizes that, this time, San was talking to him rather than his laptop.
When he looks up, blinking sleepily through the haze that has begun to thicken in his mind, he’s met with San’s tender gaze already on him. Still blinking, Wooyoung’s eyes naturally find their way down to San’s lips which are stretched into a soft smile - never leaving, even as San starts talking again.
“Hi, my love,” he says quietly, carding a hand through Wooyoung’s hair one last time before gently cupping Wooyoung’s nape, having picked up on his boyfriend’s current state.
Immediately, Wooyoung feels grounded. It’s easier to tear through the fog in his mind now. To focus on San’s voice.
“There you are,” San says, still smiling. “So good for me. You went pretty deep pretty fast. How are you feeling, baby?”
Wooyoung thinks. Tries to grasp and verbalize his thoughts but they’re still too far away. He’s still too far gone. But San asked him something, he needs to—
“Love,” San calls again. And somehow his voice sounds even softer to Wooyoung now than it had before. If that’s even possible.
“Tap my shoulder once for green, twice for yellow and squeeze it if you want us to stop right here. Can you do that for me?”
Wooyoung nods. Grateful to have met someone as attentive as San. Someone who always knows just what to say or do. Someone he can allow himself to fall and slip because he knows he’ll be taken care of just the way he needs.
It’s with this feeling in mind that Wooyoung taps San’s shoulder - twice - and finally manages to grasp onto some of his words.
“M’good,” he slurs before San can even think of worrying or changing anything about the position they’re in right now. “Just- talking’s hard. My words- they’re hard to find.”
“I see,” San hums. “Thank you for telling me, precious. You’re doing so well.”
Wooyoung preens at the praise, so happy and content that he can’t help the gleeful giggle which slips past his lips when San pulls him closer into a deep tender kiss. Full of love and lust and unspoken promises.
Wanting to feel even closer to San, craving the feeling of his bare skin on Wooyoung’s own, he is about to take San’s shirt off when he remembers something, quickly pulling away from the kiss.
“The meeting?” he asks, voice still coming out slurred and quiet but clear enough for San to understand who grins in response.
“It’s been over for an hour now, precious.”
Wooyoung gasps, suddenly aware of his surroundings again. “An hour?”
He knows he had slipped pretty deep into subspace, he often does when San allows him to cockwarm him, but never in a million years would he have thought that an hour had passed since then.
San chuckles, clearly very endeared and enamored by the beautiful, enchanting boy in his lap.
“It’s gotten pretty late. Do you still want me to fuck you or should we just eat dinner and head to bed, precious?” San asks, his hands gliding down to cup Wooyoung’s ass, almost as if to remind him of his cock still nestled deep inside of him, sending a shiver down Wooyoung’s spine.
And where Wooyoung had felt content with sitting on San’s lap before and allowing his thoughts to flow into no particular direction, simply enjoying the warmth bubbling in his stomach and radiating from San’s embrace, he suddenly feels hyper aware of it, now that San reminded him.
The decision is easy.
“Fuck me,” he almost whines, unable to stop himself from squirming and clenching down on San’s cock, still buried deep inside him. Warm and so incredibly full.
And unlike earlier, this time, San seems to be just as affected by his administrations as Wooyoung himself. At least, if the way San’s cock twitches, is anything to go by.
But Wooyoung, in his desperation, made one small mistake. He doesn’t notice at first, simply continues grinding down his hips, relishing in San letting him take control like this when he’s stopped by San’s hand in his hair. Pulling on the strands roughly where he had carded through them so gently before.
Wooyoung moans when their eyes meet. San’s gaze having turned dark and unreadable again, his brows furrowed in feigned disappointment.
“Didn’t you forget something there, precious?”
He did. Wooyoung knows he did but with the haze in his mind slowly starting to thicken again, he’s finding it hard to figure out what exactly. And he doesn’t have to, not when he has San. San who’s always there to take care of him, just like he needs it.
“What do we say when we want something, precious?”
“Please.” The words spill from Wooyoung’s lips before he can think of them. “Please Sir, please fuck me. You can do everything you want, just please.”
“Everything, huh?” San hums, pretending to think. “What if I want you to stay quiet when I finally fuck you. To not make a single sound. How do you feel about that, baby, hm?”
Wooyoung moans at the thought. But he’s quickly, and effectively shut up, by San’s hand over his mouth.
“I need a color, precious.”
Wooyoung scrambles to tap his shoulder. Once.
San smiles darkly, dropping his hand. And Wooyoung is about to return his smile when San brings the hem of Wooyoung’s sweater up to his lips before shoving the fabric inside Wooyoung’s mouth, alongside two of his fingers. Effectively gagging him while revealing Wooyoung’s toned stomach in the process who can do nothing but moan and whine around San’s fingers at the feeling of being stuffed full on both ends.
“Look at you. You love this, don’t you, precious?” San chuckles , delivering a sharp thrust up, almost as if to challenge Wooyoung to stay quiet and put. Fully at San’s mercy.
“Mhh, ’s so good,” Wooyoung moans, completely disregarding San’s earlier order. The other’s cock brushing over his sweet spot just right the only thing in his mind right now.
“Ah ah, what was that?”
“Feels so good.” Wooyoung replies, not realizing he’s about to make the same mistake again. Not caring for it - too good the drag of San’s cock against his walls after a week of not having been touched.
“Who said you were allowed to talk? Didn’t we agree you’d stay silent?” San asks, eyebrows raised in question when Wooyoung’s hazy eyes meet his. Clear and focused.
“From now on,” San hums, momentarily retreating his fingers from Wooyoung’s mouth - a string of drool and spit dripping down his chin as San slots their lips together in a short open-mouthed, messy kiss before continuing to speak.
“You’ll only talk when I tell you to, and you won’t come without my permission. Your every sound is mine, just like your pleasure is mine too. Am I making myself clear, precious?"
Wooyoung nods, swallowing desperately in an attempt to stop the moan threatening to spill from his lips at San’s words who follows his every move with sharp, attentive eyes.
“That’s it, precious,” he praises immediately, and Wooyoung feels his chest swell in pride. “Such a good boy for me. Keep this up, baby, it would be a pity if I had to punish you again, don’t you think?”
This time Wooyoung knows better than to answer San’s question. And he’s promptly awared for having paid attention this time, when San’s hips buck up again.
One. Two. Three times.
And then it stops. With a soft whine he can’t control, Wooyoung is pulled of of San’s cock and turned around to rest on San’s desk, right next to his, now, long forgotten laptop.
He feels San’s hand coming down on his ass in a sharp slap before he hears it. And Wooyoung loves it. Has always loved San being a little rougher with him, just like he loves it when the other one is soft and gentle.
There’s a time and place for everything.
And right now, with the pain slowly turning into warm pleasure, Wooyoung wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Wouldn’t want the one inflicting the pain to be anyone but San. Because there’s no one who knows him as thoroughly, who’s as attune to Wooyoung and his body as the other.
And so, ass up, his swollen fucked-out hole exposed for San where he pulled Wooyoung’s lace panties aside again to fuck his cock back into Wooyoung’s warm heat with one sharp thrust, Wooyoung feels himself slipping again.
Fully and all at once. Until all there is, is San.
San who’s now standing, towering over Wooyoung in a way that makes him feel small and vulnerable in the safest of ways.
San whose fingers have slipped back into his mouth to muffle the moans and whines Wooyoung can’t keep in no matter how hard he tries.
And San whose cock is filling Wooyoung up exactly like he had craved.
The tip of his own cock has slipped out of his panties by now, rutting almost painfully against the hard surface of the wooden desk with each of San’s thrusts and it's making Wooyoung hiss in oversensitivity and desperate pleasure. Not only from being denied this all week but also from how good he feels.
He arches his back. It’s a desperate attempt to get San’s attention, to make him understand how gone Wooyoung is from being fucked so well he’s struggling to form a single coherent thought, but it works.
San understands.
He always does.
Without stopping the languid but rough pace he had set earlier, San’s fingers slip out of his mouth to wrap around his torso to pull Wooyoung up until he finds himself pressed up against San's back, the other’s breath ghosting hot over the shell of his ear as he speaks.
“Could fuck you like this for hours, precious.” San rasps, sounding just as delirious as Wooyoung feels right now.
“Are you close? Do you want to come?” he asks, grip gentle on Wooyoung’s chin when he turns his face around to have their eyes meet. Full of love and adoration for his sweet, pliant boyfriend sprawled out in front of him, searching for answers in Wooyoung’s face, turning dark and hungry again when they find them.
Wooyoung shivers, unable to break eye contact as he clenches down on San’s cock in a silent answer. Willing to let San’s gaze hold him captive with staggering intensity for as long as the other wants him to.
It’s overwhelming, being at someone’s mercy like this. Belonging to someone the way Wooyoung belongs to San.
But it’s easy too. Simple.
And so, Wooyoung bares his neck. Gives himself up fully and submits to San whose hand comes up to wrap around Wooyoung’s throat the exact same moment his eyes fall close and his head lolls back, coming to a rest on San’s shoulder.
“Good boy," San hums and he sounds so pleased, so happy with him that Wooyoung wants to cry from how overwhelmed, how loved, he feels.
“You’re allowed to be loud now. I want to hear you when you come,” San whispers into his skin and it’s all the permission Wooyoung needs to allow all the moans and whimpers, previously kept in, to spill from his lips.
And where Wooyoung would usually worry about disturbing their neighbors his mind feels blank. Almost as if San erased all of his thoughts, only to replace them with an overwhelming pleasure and the wish to be good for him, to give him what he asked for. He wants to tell San, wants him to know that he’s being good. Make sure he is.
But when Wooyoung opens his mouth, his words aren’t his anymore. They’re San’s. They spill out. Incoherent and messy, and Woooyung almost feels as if it’s someone else talking rather than he himself.
“I know, precious.” San assures, pants. Clearly affected by the constant stimulation as well, his thrusts faster now. Less controlled. And Wooyoung can tell that he’s close too.
Can tell by the way, San’s hands wrap a little tighter around his throat. Holding him in place to suck a deep red mark into the exposed skin of Wooyoung’s collar bones. Almost as if to state a claim that Wooyoung is his, and his only.
“Come for me. Now.” San breathes, and it’s all Wooyoung needs.
His skin is prickling, his walls fluttering and spasming around San’s cock when he finally comes, spilling all over his stomach. For a brief moment, he finds himself worrying about dirtying his panties and sweater, still on from earlier. But his thought is gone as quickly as it had appeared when San inches said sweater up to let his fingers graze over Wooyoung’s nipples. Pinching and twisting them until the only sounds spilling from his lips are pained whimpers and sweet pleas, incoherent for anyone but San who always understood him without words.
“So beautiful for me, sweetheart. Can you give me one more, come on, precious,” San urges with an extra hard pinch on Wooyoung’s nipples who can do nothing but hold onto San’s arm. Torn between leaning further into the touch or wanting to flee from it.
But no matter what he does, no matter which option he chooses, there’s no hiding from San.
Even less when San’s hips still for a moment before he pulls out to turn Wooyoung around in one swift motion and pick him up. San’s hands are back on Wooyoung’s ass to lift him back onto his cock, guiding his legs to wrap around San’s middle before Wooyoung can even think of whining about feeling empty.
And then Wooyoung’s back meets the wall of their bedroom. Cold and unrelenting when San picks up his pace again. So fast and hard, it has Wooyoung wincing in oversensitivity and overwhelming pleasure.
Like this, sinking down on San’s cock even lower than before Wooyoung almost feels as if he’s being impaled. And it’s almost too much.
Almost, if it wasn’t for Wooyoung enjoying the pain of overstimulation, of being pleasured beyond his breaking point, just as much as he enjoys the sting of a harsh slap on his ass.
“San, please,” he whines, begs , for something. Anything.
“What is it, precious? What do you want?” San rasps, his head, too, falling back in a long drawn out moan when Wooyoung squeezes his thighs a little tighter around his waist, digs his nails into San’s shoulders in a desperate attempt to steady himself when San delivers another sharp thrust. Hard enough to have Wooyoung’s body rocking into the wall.
“Tell me,” San orders, having composed himself again. “Tell me, and if you’re lucky I might make it happen.”
“I-” Wooyoung tries but fails, his eyes frantically searching for San's in an attempt to ground himself enough to tear through the haze. It’s only when he hears San’s voice softly calling out to him, asking him for his color and reminding him it’s okay if he can’t talk right now, that Wooyoung remembers to tap San’s shoulder once. Green.
“So good for me. So precious. My sweet boy, taking me so well,” San hums, the praises washing over Wooyoung, slowly spreading through his body from where San is dipping his head down to suck another mark into Wooyoung’s skin.
And he’s so close. Opening his mouth to let San know, to beg for his permission, but the only sound that comes out is a quiet whisper, quickly muffled by San’s lips on his and the other’s tongue slipping into his mouth in a hot, wet kiss. Not only stealing the rest of Wooyoung’s words, still stuck in his throat, but also his breath away until all there’s left are soft whines and wet gasps.
Wet just like the tears that have started to fall from his eyes which San is quick to wipe or kiss away, all the while whispering soft praises into Wooyoung’s skin.
When he comes this time, it’s together with San delivering one last powerful thrust before spilling into Wooyoung with a low groan, painting his inner walls white with cum, marking him up and claiming him once more.
“Fuck,” San pants and despite the haze, the fuzziness, that has settled deep inside Wooyoung’s mind - or maybe because of it - he giggles, light and breathless. The aftershock of his orgasm still pulsing through his body.
Wooyoung’s knees buckle,weak and wobbly from the orgasm his boyfriend has just ripped out of him with impressive poignancy, as San carefully sets him down on the floor. But San is quick to steady him with a gentle tender hand on his waist.
Always there to catch and ground him.
Every single one of Wooyoung’s bones feels wobbly, his body sore and tired when San gently lays him down in their bed and finally tugs off Wooyoung’s sweater before freeing himself from his own clothes as well. Knowing how much Wooyoung craves the feeling of San’s bare skin on his own when he’s coming down again.
Wooyoung barely feels the mattress dip under San’s weight, still too far gone to pay attention to it, when San finally lays down next to him and tugs Wooyoung close who immediately snuggles up into his arms, his head coming to rest on San’s bare chest.
They stay like this for a while, enjoying each other's warmth and the feel of their fingers gently trailing over all the marks they left on their lover's body for only them to see. To touch.
The mark San had left on Wooyoung earlier, is blossoming dark on his skin - an unambiguous sign of who Wooyoung belongs to. And he loves, adores , the visible stake of claim.
Suddenly feeling overrun by his emotions, he wants nothing more but for San to experience them too.
“San?” he asks, voice still coming out thin and quiet. “Can I- I want to. The mark. You- ugh.”
Wooyoung groans, frustrated that he’s still struggling to find the right words to tell San what he wants.
But San wouldn’t be San if he didn’t understand him this time too.
“Baby wants to mark me up too?” he teases, unable to hide the smile in his voice, however, as he speaks again.
“Go on, precious. I’m all yours.”
“Thank you,” Wooyoung whispers, lips already ghosting over the skin of San’s neck. Beaming when he hears San breathe a throaty “such a good boy, so polite” before he’s baring his neck the exact same way Wooyoung had earlier.
Allowing him to state his claim. Over and over again, until San’s body is littered in marks.
“Beautiful,” Wooyoung whispers in awe once he deems himself done. More to himself than anyone else but, of course, San catches it
“You are.”