Work Text:
Jungdo huffs out a breath.
Beneath him, Pyongho’s quivering form trembles anew as smoke licks across the expanse of his body. He’s only kept in place by the hand that holds both of his wrists together, pinning them above his head and into the mattress. The heavy tobacco curls against the slope of his neck, and he writhes against the lips that descend to meet the curve of his shoulder with a kiss—a kiss that barely grazes his skin yet still burns like fire.
Compared to Jungdo’s fully clothed self, Pyongho makes for a stark contrast against him in all his naked glory. His sopping cunt drips with an aching need, and his wetness only grows when Jungdo pushes a knee up and between his legs to rub against his clit. Pyongho buckles and whines at the harsh stimulation. The rough fabric of Jungdo’s pants quickly soaks through, thoroughly enough that he can feel the wet patch even through the layer between them.
“What’s wrong?” Jungdo asks, closing his eyes as he noses into the culminating scent of skinsweatsmoke. “Is it too much already?”
Pyongho whimpers, “I, p-please—”
“Please, what?”
“I need—”
“What do you need? More?”
Jungdo opens his eyes and looks up just in time to see Pyongho blinking back tears, tears that never fall as they stubbornly clump to his eyelashes.
There isn’t a sight in the world more beautiful than this, Jungdo thinks. Of Pyongho—mind already adrift, eyes glazed over, dazed and hazy. Nothing, and he really means nothing, could ever compare. Place Jungdo in one of the grandest churches in the world, and it still wouldn’t hold a candle to the altar of worship that Pyongho is to Jungdo.
“You’re already so wet for me, and we’ve barely started.” Jungdo feels his own cock twitch unbiddenly in his pants as he says this, pointedly ignored in favour of tuning his burning desires on to the focus of his tunnel vision.
When Pyongho still hasn’t responded with anything more than the trembling sobs he has no control over, Jungdo trails down to meet the junction between his neck and shoulder. Once he finds the softest part of Pyongho’s skin, he takes it between his teeth and bites down hard.
“Ah—!”
“Don’t you know how to use your words?”
Jungdo breaks skin with his bite, and he licks up the blood that rises to the surface and tips over. He almost wants to say something about how sweet he finds the taste—like something closer to rose syrup rather than harsh iron—but his thoughts are cut off when Pyongho speaks.
“J-Jungdo—”
“What did I tell you about using your words?” Jungdo reprimands, further emphasizing his point by sucking on the bruise forming around the bite as punishment. Pyongho helplessly whimpers at the stimulation. “You would do well to remember what I say, if you ever want to come.”
Those words seem to captures Pyongho’s attention, bringing him back with a burst of energy as he gasps, “No, you— you can’t—”
His sentence gets cut off with a whine as Jungdo grinds his knee down against Pyongho’s sensitive cunt. Jungdo feels the wrists within his grip strain against him as Pyongho fights his hold, even when his hips lift up on their own accord.
“Can’t I?”
Jungdo backs off just enough to bring the cigarette to his lips again, taking another slow drag out of it. Off to the side, he leans over for the nearby nightstand and puts the blunted paper out by stumping it in the ashtray. He lets the weight of tobacco settle in before exhaling through his nose.
When Jungdo notices Pyongho’s attempt to snap his legs close, he comes back just to sit between them and push them even further apart. The open arc of his legs is utterly obscene, showing off his exposed pussy to the cool air while it’s leaking. Pyongho shudders, trying and failing to hide his cunt from view.
His wrists are now free from any constraint as Jungdo keeps a steady hand on each of Pyongho’s knees to spread his legs, but before he can even do anything with this new development—Jungdo is taking one of his hands away to snake it toward Pyongho’s wet pussy.
“I could do anything to you right now,” Jungdo drawls, rubbing slow circles around Pyongho’s clit, pulling strung out moans that he tries and fails to hide from him. “I could do anything, and you would be unable to stop me.”
Pyongho convulses against Jungdo, his pussy wet with desire, yet he neither confirms nor denies his statement. Because for all of his bravado, they both know the truth—the truth that, no matter how balanced Jungdo may walk the fine line between giving in and holding back, the push and pull sway from each side is all held within Pyongho’s hands.
He trembles as he grits out, “If you don’t fucking move—”
In a flash, Jungdo lifts his hand up and brings it down.
Pyongho yelps in offense, “What are you—!”
He pushes himself back against the mattress, desperately trying to escape the way Jungdo follows up by moving on from his clit to his entrance.
“This isn’t about what you want.” Jungdo sports a mean grin as he skims his fingers across the overflowing wetness between Pyongho’s legs. “Do you still not understand?”
“F-Fuck off,” Pyongho sniffles.
“But if you want me to do something,” Jungdo says, leaning down until his lips hovers over Pyongho’s chest, “you can, however, beg for it.”
“What, I—” In that moment, he snaps, narrowing his eyes at Jungdo. “I would never stoop so low.”
“Really, now?” Jungdo goes for a nipple, licking it whole. Pyongho groans as his back arches upwards, the muscles in his core flexing at the combination of sensations coming from above and below.
Teasingly, like a test, Jungdo swipes his fingers over Pyongho’s entrance, always almost slipping inside, but never fully entering. It speaks of an inevitable promise to be fulfilled, like the calm before the storm. At the same time, he lays his claim by biting a perfect circle around the nipple, right before taking the hardened nub between his lips and sucking on it with a forceful strength.
As a low keen gets stuck in his throat, Pyongho buckles and attempts to capture Jungdo’s fingers in the wet mess of his cunt. In retaliation, Jungdo comes up, releasing the nipple as a trail of connecting saliva spreads thin before breaking apart.
“If you want something, beg for it,” Jungdo repeats, slapping the slick folds of Pyongho’s pussy.
He hisses, inching his hips away backwards, but with no place to go with the mattress beneath him—he’s unable to put any space at all between him and Jungdo. “N-No, stop—”
Jungdo’s hand rises and comes down again. Pyongho bites back a moan, but not before he’s already been heard.
“From now on, every word you speak that isn’t what I want to hear gets you another hit.”
They meet each other’s gazes as Jungdo says this, and Pyongho’s eyes widen with dread, shaking his head in denial.
“No, don’t, please, ah—!”
This time, Jungdo aims for his clit when he slaps Pyongho’s cunt again. The cocktail of painpainpainpleasure that arises from the sensitive nerves has Pyongho sniffling and shaking, tears streaming from the corner of his eyes. He attempts to close his legs again, but Jungdo immediately puts that to a stop when his other hand forcefully pins Pyongho’s knee down.
“Stop, no more, please—!”
Jungdo comes down again. His cock twitches with every whimper of pain from Pyongho. “You know how to make it stop.”
“N-No, please—!”
Again. “Almost, but not quite.”
“Don’t—!”
And again. Until—
“Fine, fine,” Pyongho gasps out through the wrecked mess of his hoarse voice, “please, just— please fucking touch me, inside, fuck, anything, please—!”
Jungdo stops, his hand pausing midswing. “So, you do know how to use your words after all.”
Slowly, his hand comes down to massage the pink, puffy folds of Pyongho’s pussy. In lack of any more tortuous onslaught, Pyongho sobs incoherently. Almost apologetically, Jungdo purposely avoids his abused clit as he instead gathers more wetness on his fingers with smooth, gliding motions.
Then, he lowers himself until his nose bumps against Pyongho’s pelvis—the hairs sparse and trimmed—while a hand grips the inside of each one of Pyongho’s thighs, pushing his legs even further apart. His wet pussy drips underneath Jungdo’s hungry gaze.
He sighs, his breath brushing against Pyongho’s greedy cunt, twitching for attention. “Come on, shouldn’t you be more grateful? Did you regain your words, just to lose your manners?”
Pyongho barely chokes out, “Th-Thank you, thank you, please, just, anything…”
“That’s better,” Jungdo coos. “As a reward, you will finally get what you want.”
And then, without any warning at all—he leans down to lick a full stripe from Pyongho’s entrance to his clit.
“Ah—!”
Jungdo takes in the juices of Pyongho’s pussy like a parched man before an oasis, his thirst knowing no bounds. The sweet, delicious musk of his cunt satisfies a hunger within him that could be fulfilled by nothing else.
His lips wrap around Pyongho’s swollen, overstimulated clit, sucking on the nub with a feverish fervor and eliciting cut off, broken moans from him. He flattens his tongue and presses it against the sensitive nerves.
“Jungdo!” he whines, thighs wrapping Jungdo’s head and hands finding themselves in his hair, tight grip pulling him in impossibly close and hips thrusting upwards toward his mouth.
Jungdo’s dizzy from all the warmth coursing throughout his body. Running his hands from Pyongho’s thighs to his hips, Jungdo grips him and pushes him down, preventing him from thrusting against his face anymore, no matter how much his body subconsciously continues attempting to. His hands also fall from Jungdo’s hair to grapple at the sheets, every muscle in his body pulled taut.
With his hands full of Pyongho as they are, Jungdo is blindsided by the sudden awareness of how much his neglected cock aches within the confines of his pants. He wants for nothing more than the relieving contact of his own touch, of his own hand, but—
But now’s not the time for that.
He dismisses his thoughts with the knowledge that, soon—he would have more than just his hand to relieve him.
Jungdo releases Pyongho’s hips, allowing him to thrust upwards again as he moans with how Jungdo licks into him. But his freedom is short lasting, when Jungdo grips the back of his knees and pushes them backwards. It’s a testament to how flexible Pyongho is; even with all his whines and complaints—he never truly fights back.
Pressing a forearm into Pyongho’s thighs to keep him in place, Jungdo moves down to dive his tongue deep inside of his pussy, seeking more of the wetness within him as if it were his last source of sustenance.
Pyongho pants, “Hah, Jungdo, please, I’m, mn—”
Using his free hand, Jungdo thrusts two of his fingers inside of Pyongho’s cunt just as his tongue leaves and goes back to licking his clit.
“J-Jungdo, stop, I-I’m gonna—”
Two fingers becomes three. He slides them as deep as he can, all the way down to the knuckle. The room fills with the slick noises of the wet in-and-out glide.
The rest of his hand becomes drenched with how much Pyongho is leaking, his wetness running down to Jungdo’s wrist. Below him, the bed sheets are visibly damp and shining with a liquid gleam. Absurdly, Jungdo wonders if the scent of him could be forever baked into the fabric.
Using his tongue, Jungdo gives a strategic flick across Pyongho’s clit, repeatedly curling the pads of his fingers just so in a way he knows will—
“Fuck, no, please— Jungdo—!” Pyongho shouts.
His legs shake against Jungdo’s arm, his cunt spasming around Jungdo’s fingers, trembling all over as his orgasm gets wrung out of him. His pussy pulses in the rhythmic thumping of his heart, the steady one-two beats being all the warning Jungdo gets before the first spurt of liquid hits his face as Pyongho comes.
“Ah—!”
It’s messy, so incredibly messy—and Jungdo has to react faster than ever when he tries to swallow it all. He closes his eyes against the gushing spurts when he licks up the overwhelming flow coming from Pyongho’s pussy, as he continues squirting and adding more to the already drenched covers.
All Jungdo can think of is how there’s so much of it. Enough to drown him, surely, but if that is the path set out for him to leave this world—he can hardly find anything to complain about.
The only sign Pyongho has finished is when his back finally lands upon the bed again, his thighs subconsciously jerking, pussy weakly fluttering around Jungdo’s fingers.
Jungdo licks his own lips, slick with Pyongho’s come, dripping down to his chin. He tastes like liquid nectar, like the purest of holy waters—rejuvenating and plentiful. Softly, Jungdo kisses Pyongho’s clit, drawing out a barely there cry from him.
“Please, no more,” Pyongho sobs, pleadingly—all laxed and breathless, absent from the world after his orgasm has seeped out all his energy.
“You can’t possibly think this is it.” Jungdo chuckles.
Pyongho shakes his head, hiccuping, “No, no, please, I can’t—”
“You can’t take it anymore?” Jungdo cocks his head, smirking. “Too bad that’s not up for you to decide.”
“No—”
He rises, spreading Pyongho’s thighs apart again as he trails a path of more kisses from the hairs of his pelvis, up to his abdomen, dragging teeth across rib bones that protrude with each catch of his breath, a weak hiss slithering out of him. When Jungdo finally arrives at Pyongho’s jaw, he gives an almost playful nip over the soft edge of it before he’s quickly moving on to seize his lips with his own.
He kisses Pyongho as if he wants to devour him whole, expecting nothing to be left in the aftermath. Like a crow with a carrion, selfishly stripping every bit of flesh with an all-consuming hunger.
In this, Pyongho meets him in the middle, giving as much as he gets, spending the last of his dwindling reserves to surge up towards Jungdo. He responds to this with a harsh nibble on Pyongho’s lips, lips that are soft—so, so soft—fiercely drawing blood that he eagerly drinks in.
Pulling away, Jungdo sits back to admire Pyongho in all his fucked out beauty, ignoring his whines at the loss of contact. His hair is tousled and sticking to his sweaty forehead, eyes blearily half closed, cheeks flushed in full bloom, and lips swollen in a bloody red. Trailing down his neck is the bite mark from before; another around his nipple. He looks like a masterpiece to be hung in a museum, or—a relic to be displayed for worship.
A sudden, strong twitch from his cock snaps Jungdo out of his reverie, practically screaming for his attention with how it’s leaking to the point where he knows there must be a wet patch forming around his crotch. He supposes he’s lucky his pants aren’t particularly tight, else he fears he would’ve bursted through them by now.
Wasting no time, Jungdo strips himself and exposes just enough to fish out his cock—that first touch of contact evoking a completely unconscious thrust of his hips as he jerks himself off.
“Ah,” Jungdo bites back, “fuck…”
Pyongho sits up on shaky elbows, groaning. When his gaze lands on the up-and-down movement of Jungdo’s fisted hand, his eyes widen and his lips part.
“You are not putting that inside of me,” he states, and it would’ve been firm if not for the way his voice trembles in what could either be fear or anticipation.
“I’m not?” Jungdo detachedly asks, indifferent to whatever Pyongho’s answer may hold.
“No— No way am I letting you get that anywhere near me,” he refuses resolutely.
Jungdo only raises his eyebrows, leaning in and down—gliding his cock between the slick folds of Pyongho’s pussy.
“Wh-What are you— No, you can’t…”
“No?” He grinds into the wetness coating around him as he twitches and spurts more precum, adding to the coalescence of their combined fluids. His neglected cock has been aching for contact, and now that he has it—he’s not about to deny himself of more. “Says who? You?”
Pyongho sniffles, “Please, it won’t fit, it’s not possible…”
“I’ll make it fit,” Jungdo promises.
He takes hold of his cock in one hand, tapping the tip against Pyongho’s clit and dragging out a pained wail. He does this a few more times, all in quick succession, relishing in the sloppy sounds that fill the room as Pyongho futilely twitches away.
Then, finally—he gives one last tease with a long glide through Pyongho’s wet pussy, gathering the sopping wetness on his cock—right before thrusting inside.
“Fuck—!”
“—Ah!”
Jungdo grunts at the first feel of his cock inside of Pyongho, pausing from the wet warmth. Ever so slowly, he drives forward, pushing more and more of himself into him. His legs come to wrap around Jungdo’s waist while his back arches upwards.
“S-Stop, it’s— it’s too much— Jungdo, I-I can’t— It’s too big…” he sobs.
“Shhh, I’m already halfway there,” Jungdo hushes. “You can take it. I know you can.”
“Only halfway?” he nearly shouts. “You’ve got to be—!”
Whatever Pyongho has to say next gets immediately cut off, his sentence ending in a broken wail as Jungdo grunts and slams the entirety of his cock inside in one fell swoop.
“Ah, wha— Jungdo!”
While Jungdo grips him by the hips, pulling him onto his cock and sliding him across the covers—Pyongho struggles for purchase, hands clawing at bed sheets that fall from his fingers like sand.
“See, I told you it’d fit,” Jungdo breathes out, a nasty grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Fuck, please,” Pyongho cries out. “Please, please, Jundo—”
“Fuck—”
He grabs the back of Pyongho’s knees again, folding them up until they nearly reach his shoulders. His first few thrusts glide in and out smoothly at a steady, leisurely pace. He takes his sweet, sweet time in enjoying the heavenly feel around him.
“You were simply made for me, no one else has ever taken me like you,” he growls, “Maybe I should just keep you under my desk, have you warm my cock with that mouth of yours for hours. Wouldn’t you like that?”
His thrusts speed up with a renewed vigour as if to further emphasize his point, and Pyongho’s head lolls back when the only thing he can do is to take it.
“Nothing more than a slut, that’s what you are,” Jungdo hisses.
“N-No— ‘m not, ‘m not—” Pyongho sobs, delirious and in denial.
“Yes, you are,” Jungdo grits out. “If I wanted, you’d probably let me fuck you in front of everybody. Have everyone watch as you took my cock like a fucking champion.”
“That’s—! No, I’d never—!”
“Are you sure?” Jungdo chuckles, roughly pumping his cock in and out as he takes his own pleasure from Pyongho. “Because I can feel how your pussy agrees with me.”
“Ngh—”
The muscles in his legs ache with the push and pull strain, but the heady rush of lust fogging his mind more than makes up for it. He loses himself in the physicality of it all; in the slick, wet noises of the skin on skin contact—the hot, burning flesh in his grip.
Up until now, the dog tags around his neck had been kept fastened securely within his dress shirt, but in the course of his uncontrolled, feral, nigh animalistic pacing—it seems to have fallen out: oscillating back and forth in the air. Snarling, he tucks it inside again just as it swings against him and hits his chest.
When he sees Pyongho snaking a hand down to his clit, he doesn’t bother stopping him. He knows this as a sign he’s nearing another release, and Jungdo responds in turn by pushing Pyongho’s legs even further upwards, altering the angle of his quickening thrusts.
“Jungdo,” he whines, “I’m gonna— I’m gonna come again—”
Before he can even finish his sentence, his second orgasm hits him along with the onslaught of Jungdo’s frantic pounding—coming with a shout. There’s not as much compared to his first, but Jungdo visibly feels the wetness soaking onto his cock. All the while, he continues fucking into Pyongho throughout each wave of his orgasm, cunt spasming around him uncontrollably.
Pyongho has barely recovered from the aftermath of his orgasm—legs shaking, drenched pussy fluttering—when Jungdo swears under his breath and begins chasing for his own release.
“Fuck, Jungdo, s-slower—”
He ignores Pyongho’s desperate pleas to slow down, overstimulating him from the rough strokes of his thrusts, as he begins pushing his limits beyond what he believed was already the ceiling, pistoning his cock at an impossible pace.
It doesn’t take him long until he’s reaching his peak, cock twitching inside of Pyongho’s abused cunt, the room filling with his whimpers and moans. He’s already been drawing this out for too long, and he feels as if he’s ready to burst from the pent up energy and high tension in his body.
Pulling all the way back, with only the tip of his cock remaining inside, Jungdo looks down at how his wet cock jerks in the cool air, right before he then slams back in, sheathing the entire hilt of himself as he comes with a harsh grunt.
Pyongho keens high in his throat as Jungdo fills him up with his come, the sheer abundance of it enough to make up for Pyongho’s two orgasms compared to his one. With a guttural moan, Jungdo grinds deep into him one last time before he’s releasing Pyongho’s legs, letting them fall around him as he collapses onto him with a huff.
“Fuck,” he breathes out.
From below, Pyongho whines, “Ngh, get off—you’re too heavy.”
Jungdo sighs, but listens as he lifts himself up to land beside him, his softening cock slipping out of Pyongho with a wet squelch. Pyongho winces at the rough exit before turning onto his side, facing away from him. Pressing himself from behind, Jungdo slots them together—chest to back.
Hesitantly, he thinks to begin with the question, “Was I too rough?”
“Huh?” Pyongho groggily responds, face tucked into the pillow beneath his head. “Wha— Oh, please. You think I can’t take worse?”
Jungdo isn’t sure about that. “But, I mean— Was it nice? Did you enjoy it?”
Pyongho mumbles, “Fine, fine—it was good. I liked it. Loved it, even. But it’d be even better if you’d get off your ass and clean us both up. We’re sticky and your come is leaking out of me.”
Jungdo hears him, and understands that what he’s saying would be the right thing to do, but at the thought of how most of his come is still deep inside of Pyongho, all wet and marking him—a rotten seed of an idea plants itself within his mind and begins sprouting from there.
“Jungdo, wha—”
Not so unexpectedly, his cock has begun hardening again. A fact Pyongho is well aware of, making itself known by poking incessantly into his back as it is. He twists his head to glare back at Jungdo, but the heat in his eyes is not nearly as fiery as it could be.
Jungdo, on the other hand, takes note of this growing development with a vicious eagerness, wrapping himself behind Pyongho by taking hold of his lithe waist and grinding himself against him.
He smiles into his nape and says, “Let’s do it again.”