Archive of Our Own

“Oppa, please accept this letter!”

The first thing Seonghwa thinks is— how brave. The few crowds that passed them turned their heads to the sight in curiosity. Some stopped to see who it was confessing yet again to Seonghwa, others smiled at the sweet display of affection. Seonghwa was just about to end his day, walking through the campus with his friends when he was tapped on the shoulder by a familiar girl.

The said girl is now bowing to him, hair covering her face but not hiding how it flushes in scarlet. He recognizes her from all the times he helped out in Hongjoong’s theatre club. It wasn’t that he expected a love letter from her on a random Friday, but he’s honestly not surprised that it came from her. They’ve stopped just short of the university gates, with his friends behind him while her shaky hands extend the letter. It would have looked like the picture-perfect scene of a cliche love confession.

Seonghwa smiled warmly, taking the envelope in his hand. It was pink and decorated with a heart stamp. He quickly tucked it into his palm. “Ah, Aeri. Thank you so much. This is very sweet of you.”

“I wanted to make an effort because you always do your best too. It’s the least I can do.” She straightens, but her head still hangs low as she fiddles with her fingers.

“Then I will keep being someone you can look up to.” Seonghwa smiles at the admission, returning a bow to her while the wide smile never leaves his lips. With that, he waves the letter in the air, spinning on his heels. “Thank you again. Take care!”

“Ah wait—“ She calls out from behind him. Her voice gets lost in the crowds now steadily streaming out of the gates. Seonghwa doesn’t stop to take a look backwards, walking at a faster pace to follow his friends.

Now that Seonghwa is away from her, another thought comes— how shameless.

And it seems that the others share the same sentiment.

“That was sooo cool, oppa!” Yunho jeers from behind him, voice annoyingly high-pitched and putting his palm over his mouth that’s wide open in mock surprise.

“Shut up.” Seonghwa rolls his eyes. The smile that was one his face disappeared completely, leaving only furrowed brows and lips that threatened to sneer. His eyes are only on the car they’re headed to instead of the teasing stares of Yunho and all the others. He’ll just get even more pissed off if he looks at them. He puts his hands in his pockets, quickening the pace of his steps. “Let’s just go.”

They step into the car without much complaint, multiple sighs of relief throughout the vehicle once they get comfortable. San has already leaned back on the headrest, shifting to accommodate the other two large frames in the backseat. “Where are we headed?”

“My place.” Hongjoong responds, putting on his seatbelt with a clack.

“Not the club?” San raises a brow.

Hongjoong nods and turns the ignition. The car rumbles to life, his deft hands maneuvering them to the road. “Mmhm. Seonghwa’s been paranoid since last time we went there.”

“I’m not. I’m just being cautious.” Seonghwa scoffs, adjusting in his seat to straighten up. It’s true. It’s surprising how fast word gets around when you’re a supposed ‘role model.’ The last time he went out with them, he ended up getting a meeting with the dean and explaining how he didn’t do anything and was just hanging out with his friends.

Totally didn’t fuck a twink in the bathroom. Of course not.

Since then, they’ve never let him live it down. It didn’t stop them from drinking together though, cycling through the homes of everyone in their circle. Tonight is no different, the sun has set and Hongjoong drives them into a familiar street.

“There’s nothing wrong with going to the club. It’s just that Seonghwa-hyung can’t keep his dick in his pants when he’s in one.” Mingi snickers from the backseat.

Seonghwa rolls his eyes. “Oh, shut your mouth.”

“Bro, you better wish we will.” Mingi utters out almost in offense. “The shit I can say to ruin that golden boy reputation of yours.”

He resists the urge to snort. It’s not like he willingly accepted that title. Honestly, he felt the imposter syndrome way after he realized he had certain tastes. In a way, the goody two shoes image was a front that he had developed to deny himself of what he really wanted. He was ashamed of it back then, but then he realized that living two lives was easier than people thought. Especially when you have the money and connections to do so.

“Not like any of you are any better.” Seonghwa shrugs, eyeing the rear view mirror to smirk at the three at the back. It’s easy to let loose when he knows none of them would bat an eye at what he does, hell, they encourage it.

“Well, technically you’re worse than us, maybe aside from Mingi, but you’re not wrong.” San retorts, earning a incredulous look and an elbow to the side from Mingi.

“Can the asshole olympics wait? I wanna open this little thing.” Yunho’s voice cuts through the space, suddenly way too close to Seonghwa. He glances at his side to find Yunho leaning over the console, eyeing and attempting to reach the envelope that was still in Seonghwa’s palm.

Before Yunho can snatch it, Seonghwa’s hand already pulls away, farther from his reach. He takes one glance at the paper, the outside glow of the lights bouncing off of its surface and allowing him to see a few lines of the handwritten letter. Shameless, repeats in Seonghwa’s mind, tucking it into his side. “Nah, save it for later.”

“Fuck. This shit is so fucking funny— It doesn’t matter if you don’t return my feelings, I just wanted to tell you. and I really want to get coffee with you sometime in the same breath.” Yunho breathes out a loud cackle, filling the large space of Hongjoong’s living room. He’s on the floor, throwing his head back on the soft cushion of the couch behind him and holding up the pink letter overhead.

The smell of alcohol wafts throughout the room. There are red solo cups littering the floor and a couple bottles strewn about. The afternoon has turned into the deep night, and Seonghwa can’t remember how many playlists they’ve played on Hongjoong’s TV as background noise for yet another one of their drinking sessions.

“You think she’s down to fuck?” Mingi pipes up from beside Yunho, the sunglasses now perched on his head, doing nothing to hide the scarlet tinting the whites of his eyes. Yunho elbows him, and he laughs in return, scanning over the words of the letter again.

Seonghwa doesn’t need time to think about it, or even consider the possibility. It should have been obvious the moment he didn’t even give her a onceover when she confessed. “Nah, she looks like a prude.” His lips meet the plastic cup, trying to remember any feature of hers that didn’t reek of virgin church girl. He snorts, taking a sip of his beer and sighing. “Probably expects me to court her for a year and fuck her on our wedding night.”

“Mm but she’s pretty. You could get laid if you spend enough time entertaining her advances.” Mingi adds and Seonghwa rolls his eyes. At least he has some class when he decides to target someone to fuck.

“Not my type.” Seonghwa shakes his head. “She looks like she’d cry if we held hands. Too easy.”

“The hell do you want then?” He thought Hongjoong was passed out on the floor, apparently not, because he still manages to slur the question out.

Seonghwa only blinks in confusion for a second, watching his friend’s head loll back onto the ground. “I dunno.” The question registers and he gives a shrug. “Someone fun to mess with? If they’re gagging for cock at first meeting it’s just pathetic. I like them hard to get.”

It’s true. It’s partly why he hides this side of him so much. Well, of course apart from his reputation being absolutely tarnished. If people find out that he gets around then the number of people trying to get into his pants would increase, and while a good and easy fuck is a good stress reliever, it’s fucking annoying when they act like he likes sluts.

They like to joke that he’s somewhat inclusive in his decisions, doesn’t matter if it’s a man or woman, or what they have between their legs, what’s important to him is how fun it is to fuck them until they break.

“Freak.” Hongjoong mutters, and then snores shortly after.

Seonghwa just laughs. What is there to deny? “Guilty.”

“Is the food on Hongjoong?”

It’s the first thing Mingi says when he arrives, swinging his bag over the back of the chair and taking his seat.

Hongjoong looks up from the menu he’s holding. “Now why the fuck would you assume that?”

“I thought something special was happening.” Mingi raises his hands in defense, looking at the others surrounding the table, but everyone else looks tired or hungry to entertain him.

Jongho passes him another menu. “Eh, getting to spend time together is just getting rarer.”

Seonghwa watches the exchange with thinly-veiled boredom. He’s already decided on what he wanted for lunch and is just waiting for Hongjoong to call the waiter over. They’re complete today, which is a rare occasion in itself. Maybe he’s gonna find himself a new fuckbuddy today, who knows, maybe he’ll finally get lucky instead of stressing out over the shit ton of responsibilities they pour over him.

He’s seated beside San, who has the menu open on the table in front of him, but all his attention is turned to his phone. He’s been going from glancing at the menu to typing away on his keyboard for about five minutes now. Seonghwa doesn’t really care, and instead just utters his order to the server waiting on them.

Dishes are said one after the other, and then suddenly stop with Yunho. Seonghwa’s gaze turns to the man beside him. Jongho is the one to call out. “San, dude.”

San flinches from zeroing in on his screen. “Uh, my bad.” He takes a singular glance at the menu, barely a second when he says, “Dakgalbi, please.”

Then he goes back to his phone, but now his glances are flickered from the little thing to whatever’s behind him.

Hongjoong’s brows furrow. “What’s up with you?”

“Just waiting for—“ San glances at his screen again for a split-second, before looking back at the entrance. The chimes sound and San strains his neck to see whoever stepped through the door. His face lit up in recognition. “Ah, there he is.” He extends a hand to wave whoever it is over. “Woo!”

Seonghwa wasn’t paying attention. He hasn’t been ever since he uttered his order, scrolling mindlessly through his socials. He’s listened to bits and pieces of the conversations happening around him, but his eyes stay glued to the endless stream of pictures on his Insta. He doesn’t even realize there was a stranger now looming over their table, casting a shadow on Seonghwa’s area.

“Hey. These are my friends. Say hi.” San shifts and turns to them. Seonghwa finally looks up.

What the fuck?

“Um. Hello.”

The small voice barely reaches his ears. Obviously, the owner of it isn’t the least bit enthused to be introduced to them. But Seonghwa doesn’t really dwell on it because holy fuck. His mind goes blank the moment he lays eyes on the person beside San. His hair was blonde, bangs falling over his eyebrows and a pair of large, black glasses sitting on his pretty nose. But from this distance, he could still see pools of brown holding a fire in them. His lips were plump, Seonghwa wanted to bite them. It was evident he was on the shorter side too, the oversized jacket he was wearing only drowning his frame out further. The more Seonghwa stares, the more he feels something stir in his groin.

His usual words of gorgeous or sexy won’t cut it.

God, he’s perfect.

The others must have returned the greeting or waved in response, but Seonghwa didn’t move a muscle. His mouth was slightly agape, a sigh escaping him as his eyes trailed down Wooyoung’s body. He instinctively licks his lips, leaning back on his chair to run a hand through his hair.

Blondie doesn’t spare them a glance after that, only turning to San. He pulls out a notebook, one that he’s seen San carry (when he does bring things to class.) San takes it with a smile and Blondie gives him a twitch of the lips in return. Fuck, that’s cute.

“Thanks for letting me borrow them.” Seonghwa mentally pats himself on the back for choosing a seat next to San. His voice was louder, allowing Seonghwa to hear the honey dripping from that gorgeous mouth, soft and smooth, airy enough for Seonghwa to imagine what he’d sound like when he’s being split on a fat cock—

“See you.”

Seonghwa blinks his thoughts away, coming back to his senses only to see the pretty boy walking away from the table. Unfortunately, his pants were baggy too so Seonghwa couldn’t leer at anything. Still, the mystery added to the allure. He could be the one tearing those clothes off of that small frame. Soon. Soon enough.

He doesn’t even realize that the sounds of conversation have died down. There is only the clatter of utensils against each other and the snickers coming from the others. He gives them a look, raising a brow. Then, Jongho quips from across the table. “I feel a disturbance in the air.”

However, Seonghwa’s attention is all on San, and on the notebook now resting in his hands. All his two years knowing San, he has not once mentioned a pretty boy that was the epitome of Seonghwa’s type. Strange, considering San was his sergeant in arms in finding a potential hook-up. Even stranger, that San avoided his stare even when Seonghwa’s eyes were boring into the side of his head.

“Who was that?” Seonghwa breaks the silence, tapping his fingers impatiently on the table.

“No. I am not giving you his number.” San lets out an exasperated sigh, and he internally laughs at the familiar expression. Choi San— protective? It’s funny, usually San would have invited him to a threesome by now.

“I don’t care.” Seonghwa scoffs. All he’s asking for is a name. It’s fair game, right? It’s the least he can give him considering Blondie almost gave him a hardon in public. He leans forward, tone sharper. “Who is he?”

He sees the conflict flash in San’s eyes. But they both know Seonghwa won’t stop unless he gets what he wants, even if he doesn’t get the information from San. After a long pause of San gnawing at his cheek, he finally sighs in defeat. “Jung Wooyoung. He’s a freshie, I know him from way back in high school and we just reconnected when he got in.” He leans back on his seat, rubbing his nape with a shake of his head. “Keep your grubby hands away from him.”

Empty threats. Seonghwa’s used to it, and is still never convinced. San should know that too, especially when Seonghwa merely snorts. “What, you his boyfriend?”

“Nope. I was his first kiss though. Second, too. Thrice maybe.. can’t remember.” San says with a smug grin, looking at a speck of dust on the table, licking his lips as if attempting to reminisce about those moments. Seonghwa’s blood runs hot in irritation underneath his skin, but he keeps it at bay for now. San stretches, dismissively rolling his eyes at the obvious jealousy radiating off of the man beside him. “He’s way too good for you bastards so just leave him to me.”

The others either laugh or groan exaggeratedly at San’s words. They must think it’s a joke. It’s clearly not. Not to him or San. But he ignores San and grabs his phone instead, immediately opening instagram and typing out the freshman’s name. Jung Wooyoung. Pretty name for a pretty face. He finds him easily.

wooyoungggg__ on Instagram. He silently thanks Wooyoung’s lack of creativity and clicks on the profile with a smirk. There are a multitude of posts, mostly about random objects and landscapes. There are few with his face in them, mirror shots and fit checks that consist of mostly black and white outfits. Seonghwa however, keeps zeroing in on just his face. So pretty that he doesn’t even need to complain about how covered he is.

“He’s hot.” Seonghwa leans back in his chair, clicking his tongue as he scrolls and swipes through all the freshman’s posts. “I need him.”

Hongjoong sighs, exasperated. “Seonghwa…”

“What? Are you blind?” Seonghwa raises a brow. They aren’t blind. He’s known them long enough to know who they find attractive. Wooyoung is objectively good-looking, all of them see that. And they know that Wooyoung is exactly his type. They shouldn’t be surprised in the slightest. Maybe it’s a little early to call dibs, but well— of course he does.

Seonghwa clicks on one of the posts. One of the few ones where he fully showed his face. He gulps, the collar of his shirt suddenly feeling too tight. The photo wasn’t anything special, per se, he was covered up to his neck. His hair was combed down to fall over his brows, and the peachy hue of his makeup had him looking flushed. But the one thing Seonghwa paid attention to the most was the lollipop resting on his open mouth.

He squints, pinching the screen and zooming in on the way the lollipop is slick with his spit, the littlest line of saliva connecting his tongue to the hard candy. It should be an innocent picture, but with the way Wooyoung’s practically eyefucking him through the screen, it’s unavoidable that he imagines something else replacing the lollipop. Seonghwa’s dick stirs to life in his sweats, phone still zoomed in on Wooyoung’s lips.

Seonghwa snickers. “Fuck yes.”

From across the table, Hongjoong raises a brow towards San, who can barely glance at where Seonghwa is leering at Wooyoung’s posts from beside him. “And you’re okay with this?”

San shrugs. He can almost feel the irritation bubbling inside the man, but Seonghwa finds he doesn’t care. He closes his phone, setting it on the table and smiling as if nothing happened. As if now there was no rift between him and San. As if people, connections— a plan wasn’t brewing in his mind. He takes a glance toward San, then at the glass door where Wooyoung entered.

He clicks his tongue, a wry smile forming on his face. I’ll get you.

It was easy to get Wooyoung’s number. Just ask around his friends whether they had freshmen in their classes. Joke around with said freshmen. Make up some excuse about Wooyoung asking to join the club he’s heading— and they spill everything to you. He knows now San won’t give him the time of day when it comes to Wooyoung. He just hasn’t accepted the fact that Seonghwa’s adamant on chasing his little friend. Not yet, at least.

This was the hard part. Clubs were more direct. He gets kissed. He gropes someone’s ass and fucks them where its most convenient to. With the other students, he didn’t need to do anything, because they’ll be the ones lurking in his inbox. They won’t say anything to anyone because Seonghwa will always fuck them good. It’s just that they know he won’t stay for long, that he’ll only call again when he needs it.

It’s new to him to be constantly thinking of messaging someone and finding ways to get closer to them without saying i want you to suck my dick as an opener. He’s never had to get into someone’s pants under the pretense of wanting to be an honest to god friend.

Maybe it’s why he’s been antsy for these past few days. It takes a lot of his energy to resist, but he can’t help but run to his phone when the thought of the chase feels good.

The bass reverberated in his ears. The lights overhead flicker with bright pinks and blues, casting a glow over Seonghwa’s features as he takes a swig of liquor. Technically, he didn’t promise anything, just that he’d be more careful next time. And technically, he’s just hanging out here with his friends again, where’s the harm in that? Even when he feels a hand gripping his arm on one side, and the hot breaths against his neck on the other, nobody in their right mind would question Seonghwa for simply having fun.

“What am I supposed to look for again?” The voice on his left chirps. She’s hot, the jaw-dropping model kind with the perfect hair and magazine curves. Seonghwa likes her for the sole reason that she’s the same as him— always up for a fun night but never staying long. It’s why her manicured hands are familiar when they grip his bicep tighter, looking into the crowd as she remembers the request Seonghwa whispered to them a few minutes ago.

“Anyone blonde.” Seonghwa murmurs.

The figure on his other side finally looks up from where he’s nosing into Seonghwa’s jaw. He has a pout on his face, his curly brunette hair brushing against Seonghwa’s cheek. He’s clingier, definitely more demanding, but he’s the most avoidant guy Seonghwa knows. He’s a good lay too. It’s why Seonghwa puts up with him even though his perfume hurts his nose and he always needs to be touching Seonghwa. His voice is already slurred, thoughtful. “Guy?”

“Mhm.”

Seonghwa doesn’t know why he’s doing this. He’s been scanning the club ever since he entered, looking at every man a few inches smaller than him, hoping he’d see a specific shade of blonde. He knows it’s impossible, and this doesn’t seem like Wooyoung’s style anyway. So as San and Mingi run off to different corners of the club, Seonghwa stays seated on the couch in the corner with his other friends.

They don’t suspect a thing, and probably just think he’s in the mood for a specific kind of lay. And since his pride can’t keep making him check his phone and be tempted to message the younger, he tries the next best thing, chugging a bunch of cheap beer and fucking the first person who resembles Wooyoung.

“Him?” He unashamedly points to someone in the crowd.

She coos from beside Seonghwa. “Ooh, cute.”

The stranger is definitely shorter than him. But his face is softer, not like the angular sharpness of Wooyoung’s nose and jaw. His body is different from Wooyoung’s too, not quite like the skin and curves Seonghwa has imagined before. But when the light hits his head, the yellowish bleach of his hair almost turns into a platinum blond, the exact shade of Wooyoung’s hair. Seonghwa squints at the man, their eyes meeting. He sees the stranger blink, flustered before looking away.

Wooyoung would have probably raised a brow in challenge to him. But the club is dark and he can bend the guy over the sink later and stare at the blonde strands in between his fingers.

Yeah. That works. Whatever.

“Call him over.” He gestures, letting out a small sigh.

Seonghwa can’t wait for the real thing.

Seonghwa spots Wooyoung instantly. There would be no use in denying the fact that he has been waiting for a while. Especially when it's obvious from the way he grips onto the wheel at the sight of him. He's hard to miss in the crowd like this, with his baggy pants, an even baggier shirt, black sunglasses perched on his forehead and a backpack swung over his arm. Just like the first day Seonghwa saw him.

He's looking around, letting the bustle of other students pass him by the sidewalk. Even with all that impassive bravado, anyone can tell that he looks like a freshman. Like he's a little lost. Like he needs someone to help him. Seonghwa's hand finds a button on the car door, letting the window to the passenger's seat slide down.

"Wooyoung-ah." Seonghwa strains his neck a little, leaning over to the open window to call Wooyoung. His head snaps up from where he's looking at his phone, eyes squinting at first then glinting in recognition. He jogs to Seonghwa's car, with a click of the lock, Wooyoung swings the door open and allows himself in.

"Hi, hyung." He smiles, settling down on the passenger seat, putting his backpack to his feet and fastening the seatbelt with a soft click.

"I told you, Seonghwa's fine." Seonghwa returns the smile, watching as Wooyoung fixes his hair on the overhead mirror. That simple act has Seonghwa's smile widening into a slight grin, but he looks away before Wooyoung can take notice.

"Weirder to say when I'm actually speaking to you." Wooyoung huffs an awkward laugh. He's nervous. Seonghwa shouldn't be as happy as it is to see Wooyoung get all shy at the prospect of hanging out with Seonghwa for the very first time. They've kept exchanging messages ever since their first conversation. It became a habit to text each other. Whether it be Wooyoung sending a reel he finds funny, or Seonghwa replying to his stories asking how he is, it's hard to say they're strangers at this point.

To a degree, he understands Wooyoung. Exchanging messages are one thing, sitting in a car with your senior is another.

"How so?" Seonghwa presses teasingly.

Wooyoung catches on and shrugs with a smirk playing on his lips. "Dunno, just didn't think you'd want to be friends with me." He gestures to himself, at his oversized hoodie and the rips in his jeans. To the bag perched on his sneakers that's definitely newly bought for the beginning of his freshman year. "I'm not really like uh— you guys."

He takes the gear shift in his hand, putting the car in drive. Wooyoung is far from his usual type. Hell, far from the kind of people he'd even choose to be stuck in a room with. He's definitely got that prissiness in him, but somehow, Seonghwa finds that more appealing. So no, Wooyoung is not like the rest of them, especially not like his barbaric friends. God forbid he lets them near Wooyoung.

Except one of them already is very very close to him.

"But San's your friend?"

The mention of San has Wooyoung blinking in surprise. He just laughs in response, giving a small nod. "Uh- yeah."

Seonghwa quirks a brow.

Wooyoung doesn't notice. He's too busy looking at the dashboard, trailing his eyes all over the dark display before they drift to the roof, to the leather seats, to where Seonghwa's driving. "Nice car. It looks fancy."

He's changing the topic, but that's a story for another day. Seonghwa takes takes a glance at him while Wooyoung turns his gaze towards the window. When he's lounging on the passenger seat like this, complimenting Seonghwa's car, there isn't any possibility his ego isn't stroked. He hopes Wooyoung gets to stroking something else very soon.

He makes a show of stepping on the gas, letting the car speed up so Wooyoung can hear the smooth rumble of the engine and feel it against his back. "It's cool, right?"

"Yeah, comfy too." Seonghwa can't hold back his smirk at the words, seeing the slight look of awe and surprise in Wooyoung's face. Wooyoung leans back further on the seat, laying on the headrest and stretching ever so slightly with a small sigh.

Seonghwa knows the first exams in college are always draining. Wooyoung must still be adjusting to the new schedules, to the new environment, and to the new people he's placed with. It's no wonder he seems so tired now. That's exactly why Seonghwa wanted to spend time with him in the first place. He just wants to be a good friend, a good senior. Is that so bad?

Even if said good senior wants nothing more than to bend Wooyoung over the console. The car isn't expensive for nothing. He didn't get it customized and tinted the windows jet black to waste the opportunity to make a pretty boy ride him in the driver's seat. Fuck, Wooyoung would look so good like that. Him with his ass pressed to Seonghwa's crotch, raising that baggy hoodie and arching his back to give Seonghwa a full view of him sinking down on his cock.

Seonghwa sees it in the corner of his eyes, how Wooyoung is nervously drumming his fingers against the car door. He's close enough that it'd be so easy to grab Wooyoung by the waist and pin him against the seat.

Seonghwa resists a shudder threatening to go down his spine.

God, he's fucking hungry.

"I had a place in mind. A restaurant downtown. Do you have any classes this afternoon?" Seonghwa asks, turning the corner into a less crowded part of the city. It didn't even register that Wooyoung never asked where they were going in the first place. He just willingly got into a car with him during their first ever meeting in person.

Wooyoung doesn't realize it too, and maybe that makes it even better.

"Don't have one until later in the evening." He murmurs, completely oblivious to the turmoil happening inside the man right next to him.

Seonghwa nods, polite smile never leaving his features. "Great. I'll get you back in one piece."

The car rides devolves into a comfortable silence, at least for Seonghwa. He's not sure what Wooyoung is thinking, but the only sounds he hears is the low volume of his playlist on the car speakers and the small taps of Wooyoung's fingers following the beat. He shifts on his seat once, twice. Seonghwa pretends not to see the way he psyches himself up to speak.

"It was a little random inviting me to eat." Wooyoung said softly, unsurely. Like he was unsure where he stood. Like he was unsure what Seonghwa is doing willingly hanging out with him during his free time instead of other more important things, like, he doesn't know— pretending to be a good, golden boy senior he makes himself out to be?

The answer is pretty clear.

Wooyoung is probably the most important thing on his To-Do list right now.

Seonghwa turns to him with a grin. "Well, what were you going to do in celebration for surviving your first batch of exams?"

Wooyoung huffs a laugh. "Nothing?"

"Exactly."

They started seeing each other more and more.

Sometimes, it was when Seonghwa knew Wooyoung would exit a classroom at a certain time. At some point, he had already picked up on Wooyoung's schedule. It mostly resulted in just a greeting or a high-five. Sometimes, Seonghwa would walk beside him and say he's going to the same building anyway. They weren't lies— most of the time. There are also instances that Seonghwa would be the one to initiate, sliding into Wooyoung's messages and asking if he's free, or when he'll be free considering their difference in availability.

He's not trying to hide it either. Seonghwa's a naturally friendly guy who has friends and connections with lots of people in every year and every department. If anyone stares, they're probably just curious about the new face that's now always walking beside him. The only people who would know why he's suddenly buddy-buddy with Wooyoung are the people he's slept with before. And what are they gonna do? And of course— his friends.

They let him be. To them, this is just another conquest of his. They smirk and howl about his new developments with Wooyoung, enthusiastic to egg him on.

Well, except for one.

Today is their designated video game day, courtesy of Yunho's place, and Hongjoong's credit card for the pizza. He had excused himself a couple of hours in, but it didn't really make a difference, since he was too busy waiting for the minutes to tick by instead of focusing on his controller. Even with their fake protests and jeers, he eventually went out the front door with a smile forming on his face, checking his phone for the nth time.

"Going somewhere?"

He's one step down the porch when he hears the familiar voice. San.

"Mhm." He hums, turning around just enough to wave goodbye to him, phone still in hand and an impatient smile on his face. "Just hanging out with someone."

"With Wooyoung, you mean." San scoffs,

That makes Seonghwa halt, spinning on his heels the take a step back up the porch. He almost forgot San was in the picture, or at least, still a presence in Wooyoung's life. The thought pisses him off a little, but he's more pissed by the fact that San's starting with him and keeping him from his car. Realistically, he could walk away. But Seonghwa's never been one to beat around the bush.

"Didn't say that." Seonghwa shakes his head, the smile on his lips now strangled, raising a brow in question. "What's your deal with him, huh?"

San squints, shifting where he stands to straighten up. "What do you mean? We're friends."

"You're friends. Sure." Seonghwa snickers, gesturing imaginary air quotes. "You're friends but you've swapped spit before. You're friends but when I said you were his friend he looked at me weird. So what's your deal?"

San blinks, clicking his tongue before looking down at his shoes, then back up at Seonghwa. He wets his lips, the conflict rolling off of him, as if considering if telling Seonghwa would do more harm than good. Ultimately, he sighs in resignation.

"Man, I don't know." San bites the inside of his cheek. "We knew each other in high school and fooled around. Made out in storage closets and all of that dumb shit. I was a year ahead so I left for college without telling him, that's it." He pauses, looking beyond the porch, reminiscing with the faint bitterness of regret in his tone. "We only saw each other again a few months ago."

Seonghwa only has mild surprise on his face. Nodding as a smirk of realization materializes on his face. His attempt at hiding his laugh is somehow more mocking than whatever he held himself from saying. "And you're calling me the asshole?" Seonghwa sneers, replaying San's words in his head, Mostly to make fun of, but he notices something else. "Made out? That's it?"

He sees San's eyes glint in realization, sees every single one of his defenses make themselves present in his irises.

"What's it to you?"

Seonghwa can almost laugh. Does he really need to ask? Plus, San has given him all the answers he needs. There's a window of error, in the year that San hasn't seen Wooyoung. Maybe he doesn't know if Wooyoung's been with anyone since then. But he hangs onto San's expressions that could never lie. He hangs onto the worry in them, suspecting that San knows more than he lets on.

And now, Seonghwa knows too— Wooyoung's untouched.

"You already know what I'm going to do to him." Seonghwa licks his lips, eyes hooded with a look San knows all too well.

"Hwa…" San breathes out, laced with worry.

"What? Am I supposed to listen to someone who fumbled him? Maybe take this as a learning experience to not mess shit up with someone that hot." Seonghwa laughs, a grating thing meant to insult. San's been irritated the moment Wooyoung's name left his mouth, but the reminder of his past mistakes causes the clench of his jaw to tighten. He's trying his best to look calm, leaning on the wall with his shoulders squared. It's almost amusing.

Seonghwa wonders how pissed he'll be when he finally gets what he wants.

He thinks of how fun it'll be to watch San's features twist into fury when he shows him.

Seonghwa grins. "It'll do you good, knowing your teenage dream is getting his shit rocked by someone else."

San's eye twitches. There it is.

"Fuck you." He huffs a breath of disbelief, finally pushing off the wall with a deep furrow of his brow. There aren't many things that manage to piss of the usual happy-go-lucky San, but he loves that Wooyoung is a sensitive topic. He loves that his usual partner in crime when it comes to picking up one night stands is this infuriated by the thought of one of his asshole friends corrupting his perfect little boytoy.

Because Wooyoung must know the old San. The polite, sweet San that everyone else knows and loves. But there's a reason why they're all friends. There's a reason why there's an idea brewing Seonghwa's mind the longer San shows him how threatened he is. Sure, let's say San does have some genuine, mushy feelings for Wooyoung.

But it's never about who belongs to who. It's a matter of who's more prideful, who's brave enough to risk their entire reputation just to reach that sweet sweet finish line.

"You like him, is that it? Or are you mad I'm just getting to him first?" Seonghwa takes a step forward, then another.

The hot fury in San's eyes shifting into shock, a dawning realization that his outburst revealed all of his intentions to Seonghwa. Unfortunately for him, Seonghwa's mind works exactly same way. He shakes his head, giving San a small, mocking smile. "Cause I can see right through you, San."

"Just— fuck off, Seonghwa." San breathes out, putting his hands in the pockets of his jacket, hanging his head low in begrudging acceptance. He's ready to walk out. He's about to wave a flag in surrender— and that's just no fun.

Seonghwa walks up to San, almost cornering him against the wall. San tenses, hands clenched at his sides as the sleazy smirk on Seonghwa's lips gets larger.

“We’re going to the arcade later and he’s going to call me hyung and squeal when I win him a hamster plushie. And then when I get home I’m gonna have the best jerk off session of my life while you wallow in self-pity knowing that I’m going to take your precious friend’s virginity any time soon.”

San's eyes flash with anger once again. Maybe San has a point, maybe Wooyoung is more special than a one night stand. But right now, all Seonghwa can think of is Wooyoung's pretty face morphing into pleasure, and thinks of how much it'd take for him to break.

“Unless…”

Seonghwa stares at the pictures with his mouth agape. No way. Does Wooyoung seriously not realize what he's doing? These are practically fucking thirst traps. Wooyoung has a smart mouth and he was right— he did ace his exams so there's no reason for Seonghwa to believe he isn't doing this on purpose. He almost forgets to reply to Wooyoung's goodbye text, but he does so with his hands already itching to cup the tent in his sweatpants.

It really does a number on you, spending months with someone new every week and now having to disregard your dick for weeks just because you want a pretty boy. On the usual, It wouldn't have been week before he got bored. So he doesn't know why he's willing to sacrifice his fucking libido for this freshman. But it's not like he's been neglecting it either, especially when every single thing about Wooyoung is jerk-off material.

Sometimes, he unknowingly goes the extra mile and sends shit like this too.

It takes one tug of his sweatpants downward for his cock to spring free.

He's already hard, pre-cum beading on the tip, and he winces when his hand finally wraps around the girth. He's been so fucking pent up, it's like he has to masturbate every time him and Wooyoung talk. He could blame all of it on himself, wasting away precious time for a virgin who's taking ages to get the hint. But it's so hard to stay frustrated when one look at Wooyoung's pictures has his mind reeling as he lays in his sheets.

He stares at the ones Wooyoung just sent. His eyes immediately zero in on the little holes on his shirt that reveal his honeyed skin, the perfect body that he knows is underneath those baggy clothes, and the entire outfit that he never expected Wooyoung, of all people, to wear. It's his fault for not having faith in the man, thinking that he'd only be ever allowed to see Wooyoung's bare body was when he finally got him in his bed.

This feeds a little sick voice in Seonghwa's head. If Wooyoung's going out looking like that, then there is no harm in making him the main star of Seonghwa's jack off material for tonight, right? So he must like the attention. He must be in a cab, laughing with all his friends, ready to go to the club and grind against the first semi-attractive guy that he sees. God, he wishes he could see Wooyoung like that, all giggly and acting like a whore after a few shots.

It's that image that makes Seonghwa stroke his cock in earnest. Things would be easier then, wouldn't it? If Wooyoung was just another one of his targets for the night. It'd be easy to slither against his back, whispering about how hot he is, and then Wooyoung would laugh before leading him to the shitty club bathroom. It's then Seonghwa would take his fill, fucking Wooyoung's mouth so hard his head would thump against the wall, and using only his spit-slick cock to stretch Wooyoung's hole open.

Fuck. Fuck. Seonghwa groans, throwing his head back as he pumps his length faster. Wooyoung would probably cry, legs shaking as he tells Seonghwa— be gentle, it's his first time. But Seonghwa knows exactly what he wants, what someone like him needs. Firm older hands, snaking underneath those scandalous holes in his shirt, to grab him by the waist, and fuck him within an inch of his life until his legs barely work anymore.

His orgasm takes him by surprise, hips stuttering and arching off the bed, white ropes of cum spurting across his stomach, dripping obscenely from his fingertips. His mouth is parted in a silent moan, ending with a low groan and heavy, panting breaths as he stares at the mess he just made. He's long past feeling ashamed of his own actions. At the very least, he's self-aware enough to know he's a dickhead, laughing to himself when he sees that some of his release managed to drip onto his phone, where his and Wooyoung's chat is still opened.

He resist the urge to take a picture of his cum-stained hand and shoot a text to Wooyoung— it should be in you :(

He sighs, reaching for a box of tissues instead.

God, how long does he have to wait?

Apparently, they're in calling territory now.

Seonghwa stares at their open messages with his hair still damp and skin fresh from the shower. It was rare for Wooyoung to accept Seonghwa's help when he offered to tutor him. It's even rarer that Wooyoung is the one to ask, and tell Seonghwa to call out of everything. Either he must be really desperate for that assignment, or— the thought that Seonghwa prefers— Wooyoung just needs an excuse to talk to him.

He huffs a laugh, already biting his lip in anticipation as he clicks the little video icon in the corner of the screen. He only sees himself first, Wooyoung's name front and center, with Seonghwa staring at his own face. He takes the time to school his features into one of indifference, like he isn't absolutely excited to see Wooyoung's perfect face again. It takes a few more seconds before the line connects, and Wooyoung appears on the screen.

“Hey.” Wooyoung greets with a small smile.

“Can I say I missed seeing your face?” Seonghwa immediately says, just to see Wooyoung's eyes widen in surprise, before his lips wobble into a smile. There's an unmistakable red on his cheeks even with the dark room making Wooyoung's figure blurrier.

“We’ll hang out soon, Hwa. I promise.”

His phone is propped up on his laptop, from what Seonghwa can see, allowing him a view of Wooyoung from his head down to his torso. There are eyeglasses perched on his nose, the light from the monitor reflecting off of them. He's wearing a navy blue sweater, just loose enough to drape past his neck and give Seonghwa a glimpse of his collarbones.

Seonghwa wants to say its on purpose. He looks like a camboy right now, the sporting an innocent facade they usually put on before he starts asking how many fingers he should stick in his hole. Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be the case, because Wooyoung's actually typing on his keyboard.

“Good. Senior year is stressing me out, and you’re hella fun to be with.” Seonghwa chuckles, licking his lips at the sight.

“Shush.” Wooyoung shakes his head, biting back a smile as he resumes clicking on his mouse. “It’s nothing.”

“You need help?” Seonghwa shifts, leaning back on his headboard with one hand cradling his nape. His eyes are zeroed in one Wooyoung, on every single move he makes. Even just through a screen, Wooyoung had this magical way of being magnetizing.

Or maybe it's because Seonghwa's cock is starting to stir awake.

“Yeah but my professor just extended the deadline. That means I can procrastinate for a whole ‘nother week.” Wooyoung sighs, hands slipping underneath his glasses to rub at his tired eyes.

Seonghwa snickers. Been there, done that. "Good luck with that.”

“Well sorry if I offended the goody two shoes.” He rolls his eyes playfully, taking a hold of his phone before Seonghwa hears his laptop click closed. It's when Wooyoung actually looks at him, the camera now closer to his face than ever before.

Wooyoung's eyes don't hide their curiosity upon seeing Seonghwa with his still wet hair. "Where did you go?”

“I'm in my unit. Just got back from the gym downstairs.” Seonghwa replies, not missing the way Wooyoung's eyebrows slightly raise when Seonghwa says he's been in the gym.

Is he into that? Stronger guys? Seonghwa's cock is starting to get hard.

“Oh okay.” Wooyoung purses his lips, responsing softly.

Seonghwa lets the silence hang for a while, only to stroke his cock through his sweatpants while Wooyoung finds the next words to say. He really did just want to call Seonghwa, didn't he? He could have ended the call the minute he realized he didn't need any help. Did he even need help in the first place?

He thought Wooyoung would play a little harder to get, but this is fine too. Especially when he looks like such a shy little doll through the phone screen like this. It's almost like Seonghwa wants to flip the camera and show Wooyoung exactly what he does to him.

But he doesn't because he's biding his time. If he wants his dreams to come true then he has to tread carefully, but his cock is screaming at him to finally be paid attention to, as if it's offensive that Wooyoung's face is right there and he isn't jerking off to it.

There's no harm in toeing the line just a little bit, not when Wooyoung seems to like it too.

“Wanna see?” Seonghwa breaks the silence, hands sliding downwards to hold the hem of his shirt.

Wooyoung blinks, confused. “See what?”

Seonghwa throws caution to the wind. He lifts up the hem of his loose shirt.

"Hwa—?!" Wooyoung sputters.

He's showing off the sculpted torso he's worked hard for. The strain of his muscles are evident from his recent gym session an hour ago, more defined under the lights of his bedroom. The camera sees it all, resting just below the waistband of his pants, pointing upwards so that he's sure Wooyoung will have a very interesting visual.

Seonghwa's face is still in frame, and he keeps the camera right there as he gives Wooyoung a proud, smug smile. "What? They look good, right?”

Wooyoung keeps blinking, keeps trying to look at anywhere but at the body of the man in his phone. It doesn't work— he's gone awfully silent after the confused noise he let out, and his wide eyes flicker downwards and back to the screen every second, but never does he put the phone down or attempt to end the call. Why would he? Seonghwa is his friend. He knows Seonghwa goes to the gym and he's just confident about how his body looks. There's nothing wrong with showing off his progress. Those must be the things Wooyoung is thinking, it's why he just softly clears his throat when Seonghwa finally pulls his shirt back down.

Wooyoung being shy is cute and all, but Seonghwa's still so fucking hard, he might as well use his cock as a phone stand. And his sweet oblivious Wooyoung still wouldn't understand a thing, so it's what drives his arousal-addled mind to lick his lips and solve the very big throbbing problem in his sweatpants.

“Can I see yours?” He rasps out, almost impatient. His hand is already moving, slowly jerking himself off through the sweatpants, just with enough pressure that a shudder runs down his spine. It makes the sensation even better— seeing Wooyoung process the question with his brows adorably furrowed. He gnaws at his lower lip, like he's deciding what to do.

Is he considering?

“I-I don’t have abs-?” Wooyoung tries— he really does. But his voice comes out small, cracking at the end of the statement as if he was asking a question. Seonghwa wants to fucking eat him alive, show him his cock right then and there and cum on his scared, panicked face.

“That’s fine.” Seonghwa laughs lowly, a little breathless. His smile glints under the light, sharp and demanding. It doesn't feel like he's reassuring Wooyoung, it comes off more like telling him that he needs to stop making excuses. But he doesn't care anymore, especially not when Wooyoung's leaning in just enough that Seonghwa can take a peek of his chest, especially not when he looks so innocent like this, staring up at him with his shoulders squared in defense. Seonghwa clicks his tongue, impatient. “Just raise your shirt.”

“I…” Wooyoung starts, but no words follow.

“Just a little?”

Seonghwa watches Wooyoung gulp, eyes glassy and confused— Seonghwa resists the urge to groan.

Wooyoung shakes his head, a quick nervous thing. The speaker crackles with his movements, fumbling with the phone until all Seonghwa can see is the distant ceiling. “I’m— no. Sorry.”

The call ends.

Seonghwa is a nice guy. A really nice one, and Wooyoung doesn't just say that for everyone.

He's heard of Seonghwa before. It's no surprise he's popular— straights As, head of the swim team, and the ability to sway anyone with his politeness and charisma. So when Seonghwa texted him that very first time, he almost curled up in fear, wondering what the hell he did to piss someone off from another department not even one semester in, let alone that someone is his senior, the Park Seonghwa. He gnawed at the nerves inside him every time they messaged each other, afraid of slipping up, afraid of saying something wrong around someone who was being so oddly amicable towards him.

Because he wasn't lying when he said he didn't know why Seonghwa chose him to befriend out of all the other cooler freshmen out there. He thought it was because San knew him, and Seonghwa thought he was like San. Well— San and him aren't entirely friends, but that's whole other pandoras box he has yet to open. But Seonghwa has never invited him to hang out with his friends, let alone San, so the possibility that the older wanted to lump him in their group was gone. Thank god.

So then, the question came back. What did Seonghwa want with him? Wooyoung's not dumb in the slightest. He's been called oblivious before, and maybe he was for the first month or so. With Seonghwa's constant messages, and his weekly invitations to hang out, it wasn't hard to decipher what he was trying to do. To someone like Wooyoung, that kind of attention from someone like Seonghwa would be as if a bomb dropped on him. And yet, with the amount of stress and pressure he's putting himself from barely being one step into college, he found himself liking the attention. It's equal parts flattering and anxiety inducing, because Seonghwa's been so nice and considerate to him. He's been the perfect gentleman people always talk about and it's a little overwhelming to have all of that not even one semester in.

So he basked in it. He even found himself playing into Seonghwa's advances. Each and every day, he was waiting for Seonghwa to finally say that all of it was platonic, that he really just saw Wooyoung as his innocent junior. But at this point, he's not sure if that's happening.

Partly because he's also heard some… other things.

They weren't things that were necessarily popular. They're rumours, hearsay, things he could only find out by being ridiculously interested in other people's gossip and drama, and boy was Wooyoung that person. It's the product of him letting the friends of his friends tag along during lunch, and asking every single person there regardless of how quiet they might seem. And imagine his surprise when the name of the person blowing up his phone randomly came up in conversation.

He didn't want to believe it because that's all these stories are— rumors that were probably formed because people were bored with their lives. The images flashed in his mind regardless, Seonghwa picking up anyone he finds hot, giving them the one night stand of their lives, only to pretend like they don't exist the next morning. The vision of that kind of Seonghwa next to the one he knows seemed so fucking laughable, because nothing about the responsible, caring and funny senior he's talking to screamed toxic fuckboy.

That's what he said back then, but last night? He doesn't know what that was.

To be frank, it was fucking weird.

Not once has ever Seonghwa been nothing but respectful towards him, even if he teased Wooyoung to no end, even if he was flirting with Wooyoung. Seonghwa showing off his abs could just be his typical dudebro way of showing off a body he's proud of, even if Wooyoung's face did heat up at the sudden lift of his shirt. But he'll never forget how his mind blanked when Seonghwa asked him to do the same, when he pushed once more with a certain look in his eyes that Wooyoung has never ever seen from him before.

Seonghwa was just joking with him like he usually does, and Wooyoung just didn't realize he wasn't serious before he pressed the end call button. That's all that it is— and he doesn't think about what all his other friends said about the older man before, he totally doesn't lose sleep over it and wonder what would have happened if he did raise his shirt like Seonghwa asked him to. He doesn't know what he'd do if the crafted vision he has of Seonghwa he contains in his mind, the vision that makes him blush and swoon were to be shattered. Things will be normal tomorrow, and they'll forget all about Seonghwa's silly joke.

At least, he hopes so.

Wooyoung is looking at his mirror, gelling the last few strands of his hair, when the message arrives. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he sees Seonghwa’s good morning message. Like he always does. He’s normal. They’re normal and fine and he’s just being dramatic about last night.

Wooyoung thought the truth was supposed to set him free or something, but really, he's finding it harder to come to terms with who Seonghwa really is even more. Maybe, down the road, he can laugh about all this when he moves on.

If he moves on.

He can't accept it. Because you're telling him, that the same senior who introduced him to every quiet spot in the campus, the same guy who made sure he always got home safe, the man that he thought was his friend is the same fucking pervert whose dick pic is now living in Wooyoung's private messages.

He knows Seonghwa has been flirting with him. He's no dumb— all of the things he did, everything they've been doing together pointed to the obvious direction of something romantic . And yes, he admits, it was flattering. He considered, more than once, to let it blossom into more than friends territory. He doesn't know what to do now that all of those rumours are apparently true.

The evidence is right there, plain as day, with Seonghwa hard and horny over one picture Wooyoung sent. He should be disgusted. He should block him. He should show this to the dean of Seonghwa's department or go to the student affairs office and file a fucking report. Anything instead of—

Instead of this. Instead of looking at his phone like it'll grow legs and crawl to him. Instead of remembering all the times Seonghwa made him blush. Instead of remembering every instance where the older man looked too good to be real. He pushes it down and tells his brain and his body to shut up before his thoughts drift into dangerous territory he doesn't even have a name for. All he knows that it's wrong. That all those warnings and stories are actualized under the gaze of someone who apparently gets hard at the simplest of his selfies.

Wooyoung tells himself its because he's hanging onto the hope that Seonghwa might redeem himself, he'll apologize, and everything will go back to the way it was. So he doesn't block Seonghwa. He pockets his phone and gets ready for class like any other day. He'll go on about his day knowing that somewhere around campus, someone he treated like a friend is the epitome of a college fuckboy stereotype hidden behind accolades and a really really sweet smile. And fear is what he should be feeling, and it is there, making his hands shake as he exits his dorm room.

However, it's Seonghwa— so he doesn't really know what's coursing through his veins.

The messages were getting worse by the day. He could take Seonghwa checking up on him. He could take Seonghwa complimenting him even if he knows the man is leering behind the screen. Now, he stares at the video the older man just sent, a short video of him furiously jerking his cock until white splatters on his grey sweatpants and all over his palm. This is all the evidence he needs to report it, to tell someone, anyone what's been happening to him. The things he were saying were downright mortifying, Wooyoung always had the lingering feeling that he had eyes on him, and Seonghwa's messages confirmed all his paranoia when he had to walk home by himself. It'd be so easy to take a screenshot of everything, to finally put an end to this all and give Seonghwa what he deserves.

Back then, Seonghwa's advances made him flattered, gave him an ego boost. He doesn't know why the mere thought of the man cumming to the thought of Wooyoung amplifies it even more, makes him feel more wanted. It's disgusting. It's fucked up. He's fucked up.

So why is his hand moving downwards?

His free hand scrolls on his phone, opening their messages once again. He watches the video. Once. Twice. Maybe more, just enough to brand the groan that Seonghwa lets out when he finishes into his mind. He thinks of Seonghwa confirming his suspicions and spreading Wooyoung's legs to find his pussy. His hand slips beyond the waistband of his shorts, only to find that he's already soaked.

What would Seonghwa say? What would he do? With a tongue like that, it'd be a disappointment if he wasn't an eater. Wooyoung releases a breath when the pads of his fingers finally touch his clit, rubbing it in small circles. He thinks of Seonghwa's handsome face between his legs, his hand moving faster under the sheets. But maybe he doesn't mind if Seonghwa's a little selfish too. Wooyoung is a virgin, has barely gotten past third base, and he doesn't know what feels good at all. But the thought of Seonghwa taking what he wants, using Wooyoung for all he's worth, is what makes a lone finger slip into his pussy.

Wooyoung's breath hitches, his thighs spreading wider. He hasn't really had the time to take care of himself ever since college started. He's rubbed one out multiple times, but that's all he had in him, and since then he's forgotten how good it feels to actually be filled with something. It spurs him on, adding a second finger, the stretch making him his lashes flutter. His eyes are already glassy, an aching heat in his abdomen telling him that it isn't enough. He wants more. And he doesn't want another lonely night on his stiff mattress when there's a much better option, a much better offer out there.

His fingers start fucking in and out of his cunt, the wet squelch making his toes curl every time his fingers graze that certain spot inside of him. They're long enough to get him off properly, reliable when the time comes. But it gets tiring when his hand starts to cramp and he isn't even close to cumming, or when his wrist is mindlessly flicking forward and back on an average sized dildo, wondering if he's doing something wrong, wondering if he could feel even better if he wasn't alone. But he's a freshman in college who has never gone past second base, and he didn't expect someone would come strolling into his life not even 6 months in.

Is it obvious to him? Would someone so experienced like Seonghwa be able to tell that he's completely untouched from the waist down? That Wooyoung has never seen a dick in person before, and technically Seonghwa's is his first? Because all he's imagining now is finally having a real, live, person in between his legs, pinning him down by the wrists and finally pushing their cock inside him. With his growing exasperation at only having limited resources to get himself off, it must feel good. The image of Seonghwa and his cock flashes in his mind once again, and that causes his fingers to quicken their thrusts, his hips arching off of his sheets to grind against his hand, to feel more, to get it deeper like he knows Seonghwa can.

And maybe the college experience the older has always been raving about was having Wooyoung on his back, that annoying grin on his face, snickering about Wooyoung finally getting his cherry popped as he bullies his cock into Wooyoung's pussy again and again.

He likes the attention. He likes it when Seonghwa acts gross to give him that attention.

It's that thought that makes him cum all over his fingers with a choked out moan. He's fucking soaked. The regret that immediately crashes into him after shouldn't be as hot as it is, but here he is, wondering if he'll be thrilled to find ways to avoid Seonghwa tomorrow.

The phone vibrates in his hand. There's no other person who would persist at messaging him at 12 midnight. Wooyoung sighs.

He definitely will be.

He told himself that was the last straw. He knew it would escalate one way or another, because that's how people like Seonghwa acted. He convinced himself that the constant concerning messages were just Seonghwa playing his little games to make him uncomfortable. But then Seonghwa resorted to threats— to describing his explicit fantasies that sounded more like promises. Wooyoung would read every single one with his heartbeat in his ears, for reasons that weren't entirely fear.

And he hates it. He hates it because he feels wrong. So he pulled himself out of the cocoon he's been hiding in for the past few weeks, and decided to finally do something about his situation because he can't keep fingering himself to Seonghwa's words and feel like absolute hell about it after. He considered his options. His friends were all freshmen too, it was no use. He didn't know anyone outside of his year that wasn't on awfully good terms with Seonghwa, the chances of them being disloyal to that man are low. He recounts every experience, every encounter with the people he's interacted with and finds only one person that could possibly help him quell these stupid feelings.

But now, looking at the office door of the Business department, AKA where the student council resided in most of their free time, he feels like nothing but an idiotic mess. His hand is already shaking when his knuckles meet the wood of the door, a rhythmic thumping. Three simple knocks.

"Come in." A voice from the other side responds.

Wooyoung takes a deep breath before taking a hold of the doorknob and letting the door swing open. Behind the desk is a familiar face who looks up at him instantly.

Kim Hongjoong.

"Wooyoung." He raises a brow.

Wooyoung slightly flinches at the sound of his name. He didn't really think he'd know who he is. Technically, he's been spending time with Seonghwa a lot so there's no way he wouldn't at the very least, know his name. Especially when the two are considered a tandem when it comes to matters of academics and extra-curriculars. Considering he's known Seonghwa for ages and is currently the man's Vice President for their department. He shifts on one foot to the other, hand still gripping the knob for dear life as he scans around the room. Neat, clean, devoid of personality— perfect for someone who's been hiding his real behavior to a hoard of admirers.

Hongjoong is standing up, leaning over the desk to look over a few color-coded plastic folders. He looks exactly like the type you'd find in the student council line up. Assertive, confident, charming when he needs to be. He tilts his head, giving Wooyoung a once over. "Are you looking for Seonghwa? He's—"

"No, no." Wooyoung cuts him off, stepping into the room and finally closing the door behind him, if only to delay the inevitable that's resting heavy in his phone and in his mouth. He gulps when he turns to face Hongjoong, keeping his distance from the desk. "I— uh— actually wanted to talk to you."

Hongjoong stays silent, merely raising a brow in question. Wooyoung takes that as a sign to fumble with the phone in his back pocket, trembling fingers having to get themselves together to merely input his pass code. "I need to show you something."

Hongjoong’s gaze doesn’t waver as Wooyoung fumbles. He just watches, the plastic folder in his hand pausing mid-air, his expression unreadable. He takes that moment to settle back in his seat. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, pressing down on Wooyoung’s shoulders until he feels like he might crumble right there under the scent of the room’s air freshener. 

Finally, Wooyoung manages to unlock his phone, his thumb swiping through the gallery with a certain frantic energy. He thrusts the device forward, the screen glowing with the evidence of all the depraved things Seonghwa has been saying, has been doing. He watches Hongjoong’s eyes flicker to the long thread of pushy messages, the thinly-veiled threats in every single one, and to the thumbnail of the video, the unmistakeable shape of a cock, Seonghwa’s cock. Wooyoung’s own face burns with secondhand shame, and he keeps his eyes fixed on a spot on the floor, unable to meet Hongjoong’s eyes.

A soft, almost bored sound escapes Hongjoong’s lips. “Hm. Typical Seonghwa."

Wooyoung’s head snaps up, a desperate, incredulous laugh catching in his throat. "What are you talking about? He's your president, he's supposed to be—"

He's also my friend, Wooyoung. I know." Hongjoong cuts him off, his voice flat and matter-of-fact, as if he's introducing the most mundane business proposal on earth.  He finally sets the folder down and leans back in his chair, the old leather creaking in protest. He looks utterly unbothered. "We all know he's sick of that golden boy shit. We know what he likes to do in his free time." A flicker of something— amusement maybe, passes through his sharp eyes as he glances from the phone back up to Wooyoung's pale face. "He's just been on you for a while, huh? That's a first."

Wooyoung's voice is a thin, unsure thing. "You know?"

"Mhm." The hum is dispassionate, a simple confirmation that shatters the last of Wooyoung’s hope for someone, the last person he could think of, being his ally amidst this mess. Hongjoong curls his fingers, looking at his nails before his gaze pierces through Wooyoung once again. . "So, what are you planning to do with those? Gonna report it?"

"I—" Wooyoung's throat closes up. The question he'd been rehearsing for hours suddenly feels foolish. He had come here with the simple intention of letting someone know what was happening to him. To tell him that yes, it’s disgusting. No, Wooyoung shouldn’t be flattered, let alone aroused at the thought of Seonghwa’s twisted fantasies. And all he gets right now is the friend of the said man, who is also looking at him with plain indifference. His mouth opens, before it closes again. His mind goes blank— he has no choice but be honest.  "I don't know. You seem like a reasonable guy so that's why I came here to ask you what—"

"You don't know?" Hongjoong interrupts, the first hint of genuine disbelief and a sliver of condescension lacing his tone. He gestures lazily at the phone still trembling in Wooyoung's hand. "You have all those screenshots and you don't know if you're gonna report him?"

Wooyoung flinches, the question sending a sharp jolt of electricity through his body. He sees the moment Hongjoong recognizes that he’s put Wooyoung in quite the position. He leans forward, straightening up before letting out a sigh. Before he can stammer out a defense, Hongjoong continues, his voice shifting into a low drawl. 

“I can't give you any advice or whatever it is you want from me. I can however, tell you what's going to happen." He holds up a hand, ticking points off on his fingers. "Seonghwa's been in trouble with the higher-ups before, got reprimanded for well— doing things any normal college student with a high sex drive would do. But you see, Seonghwa's a heavy hitter. Good grades. Responsible leader. Has filthy rich parents that have two buildings in the campus with their names on it. And he's represented the university more times than I can count."He pauses, letting the weight of his words settle in the air. "They'll probably tell Seonghwa off for formalities, but the choice whether he keeps pursuing you is up to him, really."

The blood drains from Wooyoung's face completely, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. The implication is clear as day. "Are you threatening me?" his voice comes out more venomous than he intended it to.

"Woah." Hongjoong raises his palms in mock surrender, a thin, humorless smile finally gracing his lips. "I'm just telling you facts." He drops his hands, shaking his head slightly. "Don't get your panties in a twist." He straightens up again, his expression smoothing back into the impassive mask of a student leader. "Like you said, I'm a reasonable man." He gestures toward the phone in Wooyoung's hand.

"I'll help you report it, if that's your wish." He pauses, looking at Wooyoung up and down as if he were just an experiment. An ashamed, frustrated, and now very very confused test subject. 

Wooyoung feels smaller than he ever has in his life. He had felt the same way the first time he saw those large gates welcoming him into the arms of the university. He felt it, just a little, when Seonghwa would buy him drinks and waste gas on him driving him home. But perhaps right now, when Hongjoong is looking at him like he's unconvinced. Like Wooyoung's dilemma is an inconvenience to him because Wooyoung there isn't a decision Wooyoung has set his mind on.

He feels small because he thinks Hongjoong can see right through him. The said man purses his lips, and gives him the most genuine smile he's shown for the entirety of their encounter before he says something that shatters Wooyoung's resolve.

"But first you have to figure out what it is you really want to do."

The words hang in the sterile air of the office. He clutches his phone to his chest as if it were a shield, but it feels like it’s burning a hole through his shirt, reminding him of the shameful nights he's spent with his own fingers inside him at the thought of Seonghwa. It reminds him that even now, with the best offer of justice he can get, the doubt settles in his stomach like lead. Hongjoong has stopped looking at him, all his attention now back on his laptop. Wooyoung takes that silence as a sign to leave, spinning on his heels and exiting through the door.

He steps out into the bustle of students going to their classes. His eyes flicker to every face that passes on instinct, wondering if Seonghwa is one of them. He just sighs, putting his hands in his pocket as that question makes itself known once again.

What does he want to do?

The days after his little meeting with Hongjoong blur into a mix of paranoia and exhaustion. He's starting to think he's the crazy one for seeing Seonghwa's shadow in all the figures that pass by him. As if studying wasn't tiring already, Wooyoung has made it a conscious habit to always keep his head down, earphones plugged in, walking briskly to familiar paths without looking twice at anyone. It's easier this way, than risking gaining Seonghwa's attention more by accepting Hongjoong's help, by making himself a target in the middle of the crowd. He told himself that if he stopped thinking about it, the fear, the shame and the slight ache of his heart that misses a certain senior's presence— then he wouldn't have to worry about a thing.

Of course, he's wrong.

He descends the steps of the library, walking a tree-lined path towards the campus gates in the far distance. One of his earphones falls from his ear, wire dragged by the bag he adjusts on his shoulder. The sounds of birds chirping and leaves rustling fill his ears before they're interrupted by heavy footsteps getting nearer and nearer towards him. He sees a figure in his periphery, and hears the familiar voice before he even realizes who it is.

"Hey, Woo."

Wooyoung jolts, entire body going rigid. San's steps slow down to match Wooyoung's pace, smiling at him like he hadn't just given Wooyoung the fright of his life. He shakes his head, the words coming out a shaky exhale. "Jesus Christ, San."

"Sorry." San chuckles, eyes crinkling into little crescents. He doesn't sound sorry at all, instead, putting his hands in his pockets and taking a subtle step closer to Wooyoung. "Classes done for the day?"

"Yeah…" Wooyoung nods, clutching the strap of his book bag tighter. He looks straight ahead, trying not to feel the unsettling warmth of San being so close to him. He could ignore San the rest of the way, play his music again and tune him out. But San has always been persistent, so Wooyoung forces out the small talk. "What— What's wrong?"

"What do you mean? I just wanted to walk with you." San's voice is light, like what he's saying is the most innocent thing in the world. Like Wooyoung didn't almost shriek when he realized San's in the same university as him. Like San isn't friends with the root of all Wooyoung's problems right now. And going by Hongjoong's words— San probably knows all about Seonghwa too. He even has the audacity to bump his shoulder into Wooyoung's.

"Right." Wooyoung snorts, bitter and lacking any amusement. He takes that opportunity to walk a little faster, but like he expected, San follows right behind him until they're beside each other again. His eye twitches, the mask of civility slipping under his exasperated sigh. "Don't you have friends to walk with?"

San's grin doesn't falter. "But we're friends."

He shakes his head, the words coming out sharp. "You know we're not."  Wooyoung wants to roll his eyes. Evidently, San is just trying to piss him off again. The history they share, something Wooyoung has refused to talk about, isn't the bridge of chance San thinks it is. If anything, he wants to push him farther away.

San's expression shifts, his grin fades into something more knowing. "Why are you being mean? Is this about Seonghwa?"

The name is a live wire. He flinches, eyes widening slightly at the mere mention of the man. Fuck.

"Ouch. I guess there's a reason you're always with him." San murmurs, a pout gracing his lips. But he doesn't look jealous at all, doesn't even look pissed or annoyed in the slightest. If anything, the pout turns into a teasing smirk.

"What? No—" Wooyoung sputters, the denial coming out like a reflex. "It's not like that. He's— He's been stalking me and sending—"

"Woah. Seonghwa?" San interrupts, his eyebrows shooting up in what looks like genuine surprise. He tilts his head, the picture of concerned confusion. "Since when did he get so persistent?"

Wooyoung's eyebrows furrow, a wave of indignation washing over him. "Are you even listening to me? I just said—"

"Heard you loud and clear." San cuts him off, his voice becoming more pointed. He turns his gaze to the dwindling group of students in their surroundings, all of them taking the same way home, seemingly thinking hard— and that's worrisome, especially for Wooyoung. "He fucks anything that breathes, that's true. But you know something? Out of all the stories you've heard, nobody ever mentions anything negative about the way he fucks. Everyone always gets what they want. A good lay."

Wooyoung's stomach does a flip at the images that flash in his head, but he swallows it down, finally turning to San. That too, was a mistake.

San meets his eyes, his voice dropping an octave lower. Like the question is the most genuine thing he's said to Wooyoung ever since he sneaked up behind him. "Did you like being with him, you know, before all of that?"

He can only hope San doesn't notice the way his breath hitches. He thinks of warm coffee being brought to him early in the morning. He thinks of comfortable car rides to the best tasting cafes in his life. He thinks of being seen, being wanted by the most popular senior on campus. "I—" He swallows hard, his words coming out like a croaked whisper. "Well yeah?"

"Great." San's face morphs right back into that easy grin, the seriousness disappearing like it was never there. He claps his hand against Wooyoung's back, a friendly, firm pat. "We're having a party this weekend at our friend's place. You should come."

Wooyoung takes a step away from San's touch. His eyes follow Wooyoung but he doesn't say anything. The invitation registers in Wooyoung's mind, a series of confused blinks, with his eyebrows furrowed because Wooyoung is nothing but skeptical to something that has trouble spelled all over it. "And why would I do that?"

"Because Seonghwa's gonna be there and I think it'd do both of you good if you talked about it in person." San says simply, as if Wooyoung wasn't just trying to tell him what Seonghwa's been doing before he got rudely interrupted. He must see it all on Wooyoung's face, the offense, the bewilderment, and the way his mouth already moves to reject him. San raises a palm, waving it in front of Wooyoung's puzzled expression. He takes a step back with that stupid grin again. "Ah, I'm leaving before you give me an answer. Really think about it."

San turns and jogs off, disappearing behind the corner of another building. Wooyoung watches him go, trying to figure out at what point of the conversation he had stopped walking because his feet are glued to the ground. The breeze that passes by seems a little colder, leaving a sinking feeling in the silence that San left him in. He clicks his tongue and heaves a long. The thought of going to the party and coming face to face with Seonghwa makes his fingertips turn to ice.

He thinks of putting an end to all of this. And he hates the thought even more.

What the fuck.

Wooyoung has never been to a party like this before.

It's not like he has much to compare to anyway. He's been in a total of two parties in high school, and he hasn't had the energy these past few months to accept his friends' invitations. Which is why stepping into the house San told him to go to— Yunho's? Mingi's? One of theirs— he has to take in an audible breath when his foot goes over the threshold, and it's like an entirely different world from outside.

Everybody told him he shouldn't expect much in college. But right now, it's like every movie he watched come to life. The lights were dim, only various reds and purples illuminating the cream painted walls. Bodies littered everywhere, skittering past him with their loud laughs and chatter. He could feel the bass going from his heels up to his fingertips, beating in tandem with his erratic heart.

He's barely past the doorway when a booming voice yells just a few feet away from him.

"Wooyoung, you made it!"

He spins around towards the owner of the voice, and San's large grin comes into view. He's wearing a tank top, with his cap backwards, sunglasses on in the dark, and a red solo cup in his hand. Of course.

His eyes flicker to the two taller men behind San entertaining the other guests, their loud voices and cheers grating his ears. It takes every bit of him to turn around and escape, but San is already in front of him with his unwavering smirk. Wooyoung doesn't know what to do with his hands. He gives a half-hearted wave and shifts from one foot to another "Uh. Hi."

"Wow, you look uh—" San pauses to pull up his sunglasses. He runs his gaze up and down Wooyoung's form before they land back on his face. San huffs in a laugh of disbelief and something else. Something familiar that he doesn't want to think about right now. "You don't usually wear stuff like that."

"It's nothing." Wooyoung's arms cross against his chest in defense. But it doesn't really do anything considering he's only wearing the tiniest grey crop top known to man, paired with the form fitting flared pants he totally didn't buy at the thrift store just for this exact party. He clicks his tongue, and it could be the dark or the fact that he's currently checking Wooyoung out, but San doesn't see the red in his cheeks.

"Okay, well. Off you go!" As if snapping out of it, San claps him on the back before pushing his shoulder towards the doorway— AKA the den to hell filled with the rest of the party goers drunk and high off their asses. "Enjoy the party!"

"San wait—!" Somebody passes him and he can barely see San's cap anymore. Another one, and another body gets in his way until he eventually loses San in the crowd. He pushes past them until he eventually reaches reprieve by standing near the walls. It's overwhelming, just like every party. But he feels it more than ever, the smell of sweat and alcohol and the mix of perfumes making his head spin. His nose scrunches, eyes squinting to see in the throes of bodies if his dear friend was going to come out and save him from pressing himself against the corner of the house.

San doesn't come.

Wooyoung's not surprised, but he sighs all the same. "Jerk."

He's about to push off the wall, find the exit, get out of here and give up. Whatever. This is pointless. Why did he even agree to go here? Maybe he isn't even here—

"Wooyoung-ah."

He freezes.

Wooyoung stares at a spot on the ground, his heart rate shooting up in a dangerous degree. He blinks, gulps, tries to process that the voice that just called him belongs to no one else but Seonghwa himself. He'd recognize that voice anywhere, and it almost makes him want to melt into the ground and never look up at the man. But the presence beside him is almost foreboding, just standing there in his periphery.

It takes all of his courage to meet Seonghwa's eyes. "Hyung."

Streaks of purple and red flash across Seonghwa's face, as calm as ever. But Wooyoung doesn't miss the way his eyes widen just a fraction of a second upon hearing the honorific. Seonghwa's not wearing anything fancy, just a plain black shirt and a pair of denim pants, his hair gelled and a single chain resting on the base of his neck. Much like everyone else, he's holding a half-full solo cup, leaning against the wall and his intense gaze trained straight at Wooyoung.

Wooyoung gulps.

Seonghwa takes a sip from his cup, gesturing to the large crowd on the dance floor. "Surprised to see you here."

"Yeah. Me too."

"Been a while."

"It has." Wooyoung shifts on one foot to the other, trying to look past Seonghwa from where he's blocking Wooyoung's only path out. Seonghwa doesn't let up, tilting his head at Wooyoung's obvious unease like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Seonghwa's eyes graze downwards, much like San's, but his are slower, his makes Wooyoung's hair stand up. They suddenly flicker elsewhere when he sees Wooyoung take notice, deciding to scan the empty spaces behind him instead.

"You with anyone?"

"San invited me and I thought…" I thought he wasn't going to abandon me and leave me here with you to fend for myself. Wooyoung scratches the back of his neck. He felt it first, when he stepped inside and every familiar senior blended right in with their friends. He felt it when the weight of San's presence pulled him into a world of parties that he thought only existed in movies. But even then, right now, he's feeling more out of place than ever. "I don't know he just ran off somewhere so…"

Seonghwa shrugs, taking another sip. "That's San for you."

They're enveloped in silence for at least five seconds. Five seconds of Wooyoung practicing leaving in his mind. A hey, I should get going or maybe just moving his feet to walk past Seonghwa. But when he was just about to open his mouth, Seonghwa pushes off the wall. He's not much taller than Wooyoung, but he feels the stark difference between them when Seonghwa walks closer, stopping just right beside him.

Wooyoung releases a breath he didn't know he was holding. He has half the mind to step back, just before the lines of bodies moving against each other in time with the music. He shoves his hands in his pockets, ready to bolt, ready to apologize to Seonghwa and just leave this all behind. But the man in front of him has a way of causing his mind to blank and rethink all his careful plans, especially when his gaze softens, when his voice drops into a soft timbre.

"Are you still mad at me?"

Wooyoung blinks at the questions, looking Seonghwa in the eyes and finally keeping his gaze on him. The question repeats in his head a dozen times before it registers. He hasn't even asked himself that. What he's felt for these past few weeks was only disappointment, worry, and an overwhelming sense of shame. But anger? At this man who is now looking at him with something almost like remorse. At Seonghwa, who despite everything, is still one of his first friends in this university.

So no, maybe he was never mad. But he's not letting Seonghwa know that.

"I could be angrier." He starts, picking at a loose thread in his jeans. He huffs a laugh, more to himself than anything, a flicker of a smile gracing his lips as he makes eye contact with Seonghwa. "I should be, honestly."

Wooyoung watches his expression change. It was empty, guarded at first, like he was bracing for the yes to come. Now, Seonghwa blinks slowly at him, eyes moving over Wooyoung's features as if to see if he's serious. Seonghwa nods, Wooyoung sees relief flood Seonghwa's face, but underneath, with the way he's trying to hold in that stupid smirk that Wooyoung has admittedly, very much missed— there's something akin to excitement too.

Seonghwa opens his mouth, probably to say something, but Wooyoung's vision blurs when someone shoves at his back. He's pushed forward by the obnoxiously loud group behind him, stumbling on his feet and head first into Seonghwa. The man's reflexes are faster, one hand landing on his shoulder, and the other resting on his hip. Wooyoung isn't doing any better too, both palms pressing against Seonghwa's chest.

"Sorry." Wooyoung mutters, feeling the heat rising to his face. From this distance, Wooyoung has to look up at Seonghwa, meeting those eyes that darken ever so slightly when Wooyoung doesn't move an inch from their position. On the contrary, Wooyoung's hand clenches against the fabric of Seonghwa's shirt, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind. But only the sensation of Seonghwa's warmth fills it, wondering what took Seonghwa so long to give in and touch him like this.

Seonghwa's hand squeezes his hip, licking his lips. "Come on, I'll get you a drink."

Wooyoung knows he should have gone home the moment he saw Seonghwa again. But he didn't, so a part of him knew the start of his downfall began when the older led him to a table filled with a jug of beer and stacks of solo cups. Seonghwa had led him across the house with ease, the crowds of people parting with his charming greetings. Now he stands in front of Seonghwa who's pushing a cup of god knows what into his hands.

He hesitates for a moment, letting Seonghwa's hand hover awkwardly between them. His fingertips graze along Seonghwa's once he finally grabs the cup. It's heavy in his hand, filled to the brim. He looks at it with a scrutinizing furrow of his brow. He hears Seonghwa sigh beside him. "You should loosen up."

"This is not my scene. You know that." Wooyoung retorts sharply, he takes a dismissive glance at the cup now in his hand. He keeps it a safe distance from his mouth, as if the thought of drinking it personally offended him. It's not that though— he's not a stranger to alcohol. It's just that he's huddled with Seonghwa in a corner, and he doesn't know if the loud thumping in his ears is the bass or his own heartbeat. Because Seonghwa's hand hasn't left the small of his back since the older first caught him.

"You're a freshman." Seonghwa rolls his eyes, lip twitching upwards into a smirk. "You don't know what kind of scene you're into unless you try."

Wooyoung's about to argue when Seonghwa takes a large chug from his cup, head thrown back obscenely with droplets of beer messily dripping down the sides of his lips. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, coming to face Wooyoung again with a wide grin.

"See? Not that strong."

Wooyoung stares at him blankly.

"Come on, Woo." Seonghwa murmurs, low and teasing. The hand that's on his lower back adjusts to wrap around the curve of his waist, Seonghwa's thumb lightly stroking the skin where his top ends. "A toast to forgiving me?"

Wooyoung can feel his resolve weakening. The red on his cheeks is high, eyes refusing to meet Seonghwa's horribly convincing stare. It's as if his legs were about to give out, and the only way to save his dignity is getting extra courage in the form of mystery punch in his hand. He swallows when Seonghwa's eyes flicker from the cup to Wooyoung's face, raising a brow in question.

Are you gonna do it or not?

Wooyoung sighs in defeat.

"You're impossible."

He takes a swig and swallows.

By the time the party is in full swing, Wooyoung has lost track of both the numbers on the clock and the amount of refills Seonghwa has given him. He counts the minutes passing by the number of songs he recognizes resounding throughout the room, but with every person that Seonghwa introduces him to, the more he feels the tension in his shoulders loosen with Seonghwa's arm anchoring him, he's completely lost his promise to himself of just talking and lets himself be dragged towards another corner.

One second he's standing, and the next he's being pulled downwards. His rear meets the softness of a sofa, sinking into the cushions with his side pressed to Seonghwa's. His brain gets rattled at the sudden movement, body sagging into the junction where he and Seonghwa's torsos fit together. It's easy for the older to take the opportunity and stretch his hand, putting it around Wooyoung's shoulders.

He pulls him closer, whispering in his ear. "You okay, baby?"

Baby.

Wooyoung gnaws at the inside of his cheek, choosing to cross his arms and ignore the very evident warmth radiating off of his own cheeks. Seonghwa doesn't wait for an answer, reaching forward to take Wooyoung's cup on the table in front of them. He pushes it closer to Wooyoung's lips, urging him to take another sip. Wooyoung wants to roll his eyes. Could he get any more obvious?

"Mm." At Seonghwa's insistence, he takes another huge sip with a furrow in his brow. He should be concerned, really, at the position he's put himself in right now. But he reasons to himself that he knows what he's doing. He's a grown man attending a party and choosing to make amends with a friend. He can handle himself just fine— even when said friend doesn't try to hide the way he's been checking Wooyoung out for the past twenty-five minutes. Even when Wooyoung knows exactly what Seonghwa's grip on his cup means.

"You're trying to get me drunk. You're such a pervert." The last word comes out in a breathy drawl. He lifts his head to point a finger right at Seonghwa's face in anticipation. There's no real heat in his words, even scrunching his nose when Seonghwa's momentarily shocked expression turns into a laugh of disbelief.

He shifts in his seat, so he's now fully facing Wooyoung, the arm around his shoulders practically caging him in. Wooyoung still refuses to turn to him, back straight against the cushions behind him. "Well is it working?"

Wooyoung squints at him, shaking his head. "I'm not a lightweight."

"I figured. You're eight cups in and you can still talk." Seonghwa hums in response. Wooyoung can see it from his periphery, the way Seonghwa's gaze is trained on his face, slowly traveling down like a sickening caress. He feels the stare on his face, on his lips, unashamedly ogling at Wooyoung's body like he isn't right beside him. In fact, Seonghwa must take that as a sign that what he's doing is accepted, even encouraged.

Maybe that's why he gets bolder.

Something soft presses against the right side of his neck. A feather-light touch of Seonghwa's breath, followed by the sound of a deep inhale. Wooyoung's pulse hitches, the lips on his skin suddenly moving in a slow rhythm. The bass is loud is in his ears, and the alcohol is making sweat bead on his forehead, but he can clearly feel Seonghwa kissing his neck. He swallows, body moving on its own to give Seonghwa more access. The older snickers, hand coming up to hold the opposite side, tilting Wooyoung's head to deepen his kisses. Soon, they turn into little nips and sucks, the wet slide of Seonghwa's tongue practically devouring him from his jaw down to his collarbone is making his head spin.

"Hey." Through it all, he manages to have some sort of clarity. Wooyoung shifts, carefully pushing Seonghwa's face out of his neck with an awkward laugh.

"You're so unfair." Seonghwa pouts. His hands tighten around Wooyoung's shoulder, closing the little distance Wooyoung put between them once again. "Why are you leading me on?"

Wooyoung shakes his head, huffing a laugh of disbelief. "Leading you on? Are you crazy? I'm not doing anything to you."

Seonghwa's pout deepens, but there's almost a playful, knowing look in his eyes. He pulls Wooyoung even closer to lean in and whisper in his ear, voice dropping into a low murmur. "But you're letting me get away with a lot of things."

The lips pressing against his ear almost make him shudder. And he's about to argue, say anything to defend himself, but the words get lost on his tongue when the hand on his shoulder slithers downwards to the curve of his waist. Seonghwa's thumb traces idle circles on the exposed skin right about the waistband of his jeans, his brain feels like it's dripping in static.

"Why is that, hm?" Seonghwa's head tilts, gaze boring into Wooyoung with a newfound intensity. His earlier teasing tone is gone and replaced by a curiosity, a hunger that makes Wooyoung gulp.

"You went to the party even if you knew I'd be here." His free hand lands on Wooyoung's thigh. He knows Seonghwa feels how he goes rigid in the man's hold. "You let me send all of those vile, horrid messages." Wooyoung flinches at the reminder, shame flooding his cheeks even more when Seonghwa's hand travels higher and higher on the rough fabric of his jeans, barely grazing the inside of Wooyoung's things. He leans in once again, a pinch of teeth right at Wooyoung's earlobe. "And I know you went to Hongjoong."

The air leaves Wooyoung's lungs. Of course he knows. Of course Hongjoong would tell Seonghwa what he's planning. But that doesn't matter at all right now, does it? Because Seonghwa is right. The decisions he's made don't look like someone who's adamant on putting and end to their situation. He's here, practically molding himself into Seonghwa's side, and the worst part is that— It feels right. It feels good.

"And yet, look at what I'm doing to you." He pulls back just to look at Wooyoung's face, from his glassy eyes, to his plump lips wet from the alcohol, down to the marks that he put there— already blooming red and purple like a sick reminder of how Wooyoung isn't doing anything to stop this. And when Seonghwa's hand comes up to hold Wooyoung by the chin, he finds that there isn't a bone in his body that would want this to end.

"Hey," Seonghwa snaps him out of his trance, fingers digging into his jaw, and shaking his head like a rag doll. "You haven't answered my question."

Wooyoung's eyelids flutter. "Wh-What?"

"Why are you here, baby?"

The question hangs between them. From the alcohol to the grueling weeks that led up to this moment, nothing reasonable comes to mind. Nothing that wouldn't reveal how all Wooyoung's defenses are crumbling from a few heated stares, from a few hickeys on his neck. He thinks back to all of the days wherein his heart would flutter at the mere sight of his respectable, charming senior. He thinks of the firm hand gripping his jaw and looking at Wooyoung like he owes him something. He looks back up at Seonghwa's dark, waiting eyes and realizes that perhaps Seonghwa might deserve the truth after all.

"I liked being your friend. I liked—" He swallows, the lump in his throat never leaving. "Whatever it was you were doing to get in my pants back then." He takes a shaky breath, the last of his inhibitions dissipating into thin air. "I heard some stuff and even then…" He closes and opens his mouth, a part of his mind still telling the sober part of himself to Don't. Don't say anything you can't take back. But with Seonghwa still staring ar him— the words claw their way out of his throat. "I liked the thought of being just a little bit special to you."

For a moment, something flickers in Seonghwa's eyes— surprise, maybe, or sick sense of amusement. "Special?" He tilts his head, as if tasting the words on his mouth for the first time. Like the concept is so foreign that he has to huff a short, humorless laugh while he strokes Wooyoung's chin like you would with a cat. "You know that's not my thing."

Wooyoung expected it. He really did, ever since he discovered what kind of person Seonghwa is. He should have braced himself harder, he knows that, but it doesn't stop his chest from clenching for a split-second. He lets out a laugh of his own, leaning back to shake off Seonghwa's hold from his face. He purses his lips, looking down at his own fingers. "I know."

Seonghwa looks at him for a long while. Wooyoung waits for it now. The confirmation he's been waiting for that he'll just be another name on Seonghwa's long list of conquests. He should have self-respect but if this is what he can take then—

His train of thought is interrupted by a sigh beside him. Seonghwa's expression shifts into something softer. Hesitant— definitely, but the longer he stares, the more he sees the decision cement itself in Seonghwa's mind. "Okay." He breathes out. "Yeah, fine. Whatever you want."

Wooyoung's eyes widen. "Really?"

"Mhm." The smirk is back on Seonghwa's face. The earlier discomfort turning into something excited. He sounds like the cat who finally, finally got the cream. He leans in, just close enough for Wooyoung to feel a nose graze against his cheek, close enough to feel Seonghwa's breath hitting his lips. "First date is Friday next week."

A smile materializes on Wooyoung's face. He looks down at Seonghwa's mouth, gulping. He leans in and—

“Ah-ah.” Seonghwa pulls away, Wooyoung chasing his lips for one split-second before looking at the older through his lashes, a confused pout gracing his face. He isn't done, clicking his tongue and rubbing the pad of his thumb across Wooyoung's bottom lip. “if you want to be special, you have to call me something special too.”

Wooyoung's eyes search Seonghwa's features, his pout deepening with a furrow of his brow, trying to make sense of what he just said. He thinks of what he could call Seonghwa that apparently must be so special that he's stalling what they both want right now. He looks back at all their time spent together, calling him Hwa, calling him hyung, what else—

Wooyoung pauses. Seonghwa waits.

“Oppa?” He whispers, the word unsure and soft on his tongue.

Seonghwa's gulps.

"What was that?"

Wooyoung repeats it, louder and needier this time. "Oppa."

The effect is instantaneous. The word comes out as a ragged exhale.

"Fuck."

Seonghwa surges forward, pulling Wooyoung by his nape, and capturing his lips in an open mouthed kiss. He doesn't waste any time, using Wooyoung's momentary surprise to slip his tongue inside the wet heat of Wooyoung's mouth. He tries. He tries to use every trick that he used to do once upon a time, tries to replicate what he watches and reads about, but its no use. There's an arm tightly wrapping around his waist, pressing him so close to the older that he's practically in Seonghwa's lap, every crevice filled with warmth and want. Seonghwa tilts his head, kissing Wooyoung deeper while he desperately tries to keep up with the tongue adamant on tangling with his. He makes a noise in the back of his throat, and Seonghwa hums lowly in approval, smirking against Wooyoung's lips.

When Seonghwa pulls away, Wooyoung's breathless, brows drawn together and hanging onto the fabric of Seonghwa's shirt for dear life. He doesn't know what he looks like to Seonghwa. With the way his eyes are already hooded from desire and alcohol, cheeks red from the lack of breath, and mouth that is one second away from begging him to kiss him again right here, right now, in front of all these people.

Seonghwa presses a wet kiss to jaw.. "I'm gonna take you upstairs now, okay?"

It doesn't sound like a question. It's not a question at all when Seonghwa doesn't give him a moment to reply, hauling Wooyoung up by the waist. The room spins when his feet hit the ground, it's a good thing Seonghwa is there to drag him across the room. Past the crowd. Past the table of beer and bass boosted speakers. At one point he swears he sees San staring at him, watching him with an arm around Seonghwa's neck and the older squeezing his side once they enter the final doorway before the staircase. He looks up and it's dark— like the jaws of a predator waiting to swallow him whole.

He'll think about that tomorrow.

Wooyoung finds that he doesn't care anymore, and takes the first step.

It's when the door closes that Wooyoung really meets Seonghwa.

It's like the sweet dependable senior never existed in the first place.

Wooyoung looks like he doesn't know who he is. And fuck does that get him hard.

Seonghwa kicks the door closed and locks it without taking a single glance back, shutting out the rest of the party with a resounding click. Wooyoung stands there, in the middle of the room, looking like exactly what he is, a lost little freshman looking who doesn't have anyone to teach him the ropes. Seonghwa allows himself to admire him for a single second before he walks up to him and grabs. He doesn't waste time— hands are fisting in Wooyoung's hair, using it as leverage to seal their lips together once again. There is no more act, no more trying to be the sweet suitor he forced himself to be.

How is he supposed to pretend when Wooyoung lets out a tiny, surprised noise, swallowed by the sound of his eager tongue trying to devour his junior's cute little mouth?

He pulls away, only to latch unto the skin of his neck. He couldn't do it properly earlier, Wooyoung wouldn't let him. Now he makes sure both of his hands are tightly wrapped around him, feeling every flinch and squirm once he starts sucking right below Wooyoung's jaw. He licks at the earlier onslaught of purple and green he inflicted, biting where he can, biting on unmarked skin until Wooyoung's neck is thoroughly covered in the evidence of Seonghwa's doing.

And through it all, Wooyoung lets out these little, breathy noises each time he sucks another mark, and another. He takes a glance from where he's buried in his neck, finding Wooyoung's eyes nearly fluttering closed. A deep chuckle reverberates in his chest, the sight making him step forward until the back of Wooyoung's knees hit the bed.

He falls back on the sheets with Seonghwa following suit and landing right on top of him. Wooyoung lets out a small yelp, immediately swallowed by Seonghwa's mouth finding his once more. Wooyoung's hands are fisting the fabric of Seonghwa's shirt, but making no move to push him off. Seonghwa takes that as an invitation to sneak his hands underneath Wooyoung's crop top, never going further than squeezing and kneading his waist, then up his ribs.

Seonghwa pulls away to look at him. He watches the panting man beneath him with a smirk, taking a hold of both his wrists, pinning Wooyoung to the mattress. He leans in just enough to press a wet kiss on his jaw before slotting his knee in between Wooyoung's legs. He feels it then, the heat radiating from Wooyoung's core. And he knows if he just pressed a little further, he'd feel how fucking wet the poor thing is.

But he doesn't need to, because Wooyoung shifts on his own, grinding down on Seonghwa's thigh. He keens, high and loud from just having a little touch against his crotch.

Seonghwa laughs.

"You're so fucking noisy." He licks his lips, watching the flush of Wooyoung's face travel down to the exposed skin of his chest. "I haven't even done anything yet."

"I've never—" Wooyoung gulps, turning his head to escape Seonghwa's stare, but he only tightens his hold on Wooyoung's wrists. The words come out as nothing but panting breaths, eyebrows furrowing and lips wobbling in embarrassment. Seonghwa raises a brow at him, waiting even if he knows exactly what Wooyoung is trying to say. "This is my first time—"

"First time kissing? Making out? I don't think so." Seonghwa cuts him off, a hint of bitterness in his tone as a face flashes in his mind, reminding him that one of his friends have held Wooyoung like this before, have kissed these plump lips bruised. It shouldn't be that big of a deal, but if they're gonna be dating, then the least he can do is make sure Wooyoung's body only remembers what Seonghwa is planning to do to it. Only remembers how it's going to let Seonghwa take all its firsts.

Seonghwa's hands find the end of his shirt, pulling it upwards until it bunches under Wooyoung's armpits. His mouth waters at the sight of Wooyoung's chest, just plump enough that Seonghwa can probably squeeze them together, could probably slide his cock between them if he wanted. His nipples are already hard, pebbling from the cold air. They're small, brown little buds that Seonghwa can't help but imagine pinching until he cries. He cups one side with his large palm, barely grazing Wooyoung's nipple, and the younger flinches, breath hitching at the simple action.

He looks down at Wooyoung with something almost like triumph. "You've just never been used before. It's okay, baby."

He descends on Wooyoung's chest, putting his mouth around Wooyoung's nipple and sucking. He alternates between sucking on them and flicking his tongue over the hard nubs. He hears Wooyoung's heavy above him, chest arching off the bed with every lick and suck. When he's satisfied, he comes up to move to the other side. Seonghwa can feel his hips twitching. Maybe he doesn't realize he's already searching for friction, but all Seonghwa wants right now is to suck on his chest like they're a life source.

"Hwa." Wooyoung breathes out, heaving a shaky breath.

Seonghwa feels himself pause. That's the wrong title, isn't it? Seonghwa certainly doesn't approve of Wooyoung forgetting their deal so quickly, but he reminds him by biting the muscle around Wooyoung's nipple.

"Oh—!" Wooyoung cries out.

Seonghwa rests his cheek on one side, looking up at Wooyoung with a smirk. "Such pretty tits, baby."

"Ah—oppa!" Wooyoung cries out once more when Seonghwa uses more teeth this time.

That's when he starts marking him up earnestly. There isn't a patch of skin around Wooyoung's tits that doesn't get bitten and sucked on. Wooyoung squirms underneath him, trying to wriggle out of where Seonghwa's pinned him down to the sheets again. Wooyoung is letting out these little whimpers that drive Seonghwa absolutely mad. He must not know if what he's feeling is pain or pleasure or a sick mixture of both— and Seonghwa is thrilled at the thought of this merely being the beginning of it.

He gives Wooyoung a bit of reprieve, standing up from where he's straddling the younger. He looks down at him, tugging at Wooyoung's shirt. "Take this off."

It's adorable how Wooyoung scrambles to sit up, pulling his shirt off. It lands on the floor, Wooyoung's hands coming up to cover his torso as if Seonghwa wasn't just sucking his tits dry a minute ago. Seonghwa's cock has been hard ever since they entered the room, but watching the red traveling down Wooyoung's torso makes him twitch uncomfortably in his jeans. Which leads him to looking at Wooyoung's jeans, how they fit so perfectly around his long legs, how much better he'd look with them off.

Seonghwa bites his lip, adjusting the tent in his pants.

"All of it."

Wooyoung freezes. He looks up at Seonghwa, opening his mouth to probably say something. But he catches himself, looking down at his jeans and gnawing at the inside of his cheek. Seonghwa is unmoving in front of him in anticipation. The silence must make Wooyoung's nerves rise even more, standing on weak knees and shaky hands barely able to grip onto the button of his jeans. He turns around, and Seonghwa raises a brow but he lets him.

The jeans are pulled down to Wooyoung's ankles. The first thing Seonghwa sees is the expanse of his bare back, but Wooyoung sits back down so fast, he doesn't get a chance to check him out properly. He's hunched over, attempting to make himself smaller, covering what he can with his hands. Seonghwa could almost laugh, tell him this shy act is counterproductive, but that's when he sees the pink past the hands splayed in front of his crotch, peeking out from where Wooyoung's legs are pressed together.

"Let me see." Seonghwa immediately closes their distance. He sees the confusion in Wooyoung's eyes, barely registering it when Seonghwa pushes him back down on the bed and grabs his knees.

"Wait—"

It's cute that Wooyoung thinks Seonghwa is listening, not when his eyes are locked onto the pink cotton panties Wooyoung is wearing. He's grinning when he wrenches Wooyoung's thighs apart, spreading his legs to reveal what Seonghwa's been dreaming of for weeks. He thought he was imagining it, trailing behind Wooyoung in the gym, just far enough to see the outline of his lips in those scandalously tight shorts. It fed his fantasies every single night they didn't talk, that underneath all those baggy clothes, underneath this bravery Wooyoung thinks he has, Seonghwa knows exactly what's waiting for him.

The confirmation just makes is sweeter.

"Fuck fuck fuck." Seonghwa barely holds in a groan at the sight of him. Baby pink cotton covers the mound of his cunt, fat lips barely held in by the fabric. They're damp, wetness covering his panties. Seonghwa sees the tuft of hair past the waistband, and all he can think about is ripping them off with his teeth. But where's the fun in that?

His eyes flicker from Wooyoung's embarrassed face to his spread legs. He squeeze the meat of Wooyoung's inner thighs and watches him shudder, earning a hum of approval from the older. "You really do have a pussy."

Seonghwa drops to his knees, marveling at the sight of Wooyoung’s cunt. He’s seen a lot of genitals before, and has reached the stage in which he’s not concerned about how they look, just how good they’re going to feel against him. But he can’t stop staring at Wooyoung’s pussy, at how he was conjuring up images of a wet cunt underneath his baggy clothes and freshman bravado for so long but nothing lives up to the actual sight of it. Pretty and pink, the coarse hair trimmed neatly, almost as if Wooyoung was expecting Seonghwa would see him tonight. He doesn’t care for aesthetics, even if his pussy is gorgeous. All he can think of is how now it’d be easier to make him wet, to slip inside, how it’d feel to fuck him raw and breed—

He laughs softly, breath hitting Wooyoung’s folds. He shouldn’t be getting ahead of himself.

His hand travels upwards, stroking Wooyoung's hips until they reach the waistband of his panties. He stretches the elastic, letting it go with a smack against Wooyoung's skin. He flinches, barely able to look at Seonghwa in the eye. "These are cute." Seonghwa smirks, wetting his lips as he runs a lone finger through the slit of Wooyoung's pussy, his lips now fully engulfing the fabric between them, revealing the slick decorating the inside of his thighs. "Soaked too."

Seonghwa's voice is low with desire. "Let me see that pretty cunt." He doesn't give Wooyoung a chance to protest, pulling his panties past his hips, past his thighs and ankles. Seonghwa sucks in a breath, watching as Wooyoung's slick stick to the fabric, glistening wet under the light. He knew it would be pretty. Everything about Wooyoung is gorgeous, but seeing the cunt he's wanted to stick his dick in for weeks is an entirely different feeling.

So nobody can blame him if his cock is absolutely leaking in his jeans, and the only thing that matters is the fact that Wooyoung's never had mouth on him before. He doesn't waste time, giving little licks to the aching nub. Wooyoung's thighs jolt, attempting to close, but Seonghwa holds them down. He licks from Wooyoung's dripping entrance, catching the slick on his tongue, up to Wooyoung's clit. His lips close around the little bud, leisurely flicking it up and down.

Wooyoung makes a noise above him, small and muffled. Seonghwa looks up to see him biting his hand, trying to hold in his moans. That won't do, Seonghwa thinks. Impatiently, he pulls away, fingers spreading Wooyoung's folds open, so he can properly see the bud that's now red and throbbing from Seonghwa's earlier ministrations. He dives in, latching on Wooyoung's clit and sucking.

"Oh my god—!"

Legs try to clamp around Seonghwa's head but he manages to hold Wooyoung's thighs down, spreading him wide open to devour his pussy. He tries to push himself up, but every time Seonghwa sucks harder, his elbows would give out. He becomes more eager Seonghwa's arms are unmoving, wrapping around Wooyoung's thighs and pulling him closer to his mouth. Wooyoung is close to thrashing, hands grabbing at Seonghwa's hair, to pull him away or push his head deeper into his cunt, Seonghwa doesn't know.

It's cute, so fucking cute. He can never get enough of knowing all of this is new to Wooyoung. Baby's first tongue on his pussy— a virgin being held down and eaten out for the very first time. So of course Seonghwa has to— wants to make it good.

Wooyoung gasps when something sharp nibbles at his clit, the slight sting immediately soothed by another lick, another suck to the most sensitive part of his pussy. The fingers in his hair tighten around the strands, causing him to groan into the younger's folds. Seonghwa gives his clit a break, only to move downwards and shove his tongue inside Wooyoung's entrance. He's so fucking wet, Seonghwa doesn't know where Wooyoung's slick ends and where his saliva starts.

"Ah!" Wooyoung cries out when Seonghwa devours him earnestly, like the wetness dripping on his tongue were some sort of aphrodisiac. His nose is pressed against Wooyoung's clit, and every time he breathes in the scent of Wooyoung's perfect pussy, he's reminded that this is happening. This is real and he gets to get his dick wet after so so long.

And speaking of his dick, Seonghwa can no longer ignore the ache in his jeans.

He gives a few more suckles to Wooyoung's clit, the world muffling just for a second when Wooyoung's legs clamp around his head. But he pushes them back down, finally pulling away from Wooyoung's pussy. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a string of saliva still connecting him to Wooyoung's core.

His smirk widens when his eyes land on Wooyoung. He's trembling all over, lip bitten raw and eyes glassy. He looks down at Seonghwa like he doesn't know whether he wants to stop or keep going. Or maybe all he sees is a blurry figure, mind still spinning, and all he knows is that his pussy wants to feel good, accepting everything Seonghwa wants to do to it. He lets Wooyoung catch his breath, letting him sag on the sheets, letting him think he has a moment to rest before Seonghwa's hands start stroking where his inner thighs meet his crotch.

Wooyoung flinches when two of Seonghwa's fingers run along his folds, stopping to rub at his oversensitive clit, before going down to tease Wooyoung's dripping entrance.

"Oppa. Please, hold on a little…" Wooyoung's voice is small, breathy and unsure. He watches Wooyoung try to hold himself up, a panic in his eyes that Seonghwa doesn't miss. It doesn't deter Seonghwa. If anything, the sight of Wooyoung's uncertainty spurs him on, barely slipping in the tip of his finger into that inviting heat. He shallowly starts pulling in and out, the small hole stretching ever so slightly to accommodate two digits.

"C'mon, Woo. It's just two fingers, you've made me wait for so long." Seonghwa coos, his free hand on Wooyoung's thigh, up and down in a comforting caress. Wooyoung's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, eyes fluttering when Seonghwa's fingers dip at his entrance, collecting the slick coming out of his hole. He sees Wooyoung gulp, shoulders tensing when Seonghwa's fingers push in deeper.

He tuts, "You can take it."

Seonghwa's patience has run out, shoving two of his fingers deep into Wooyoung's cunt without a warning. He hears a choked out moan from above him, a large gasp of air trailing off into a loud sob, Wooyoung's back bows off the bed, hands flying to grip at Seonghwa's wrist. He chuckles at the weak attempts of pulling his hand away, but all he does is grab both of Wooyoung's hands with his other hand, while the busy hand starts pushing in and out of Wooyoung's pussy at a pace that would make anyone tremble.

He fingerfucks Wooyoung for his own pleasure. Sure, he could say it's for prep or whatever. But all he can think of is how tight Wooyoung is around just his fingers. He's clenching erratically with every single thrust inside his pussy, as if he's about to cum at any given moment. It's like his pussy doesn't know what to do with this new intrusion. Maybe Wooyoung has fingered himself before, and his virgin cunt doesn't know how to feel when it's someone's experienced fingers searching for that specific part inside of him.

And Seonghwa is nothing but a seasoned explorer, with just a single curl of his digits, Wooyoung's hips jump and a startled noise escapes his lips. The hands that were trying to push him off were now at his sides, fingers crumpled on the sheets. Wooyoung's mouth was wide open, letting out silent little pants. Seonghwa's palm presses down on Wooyoung's inner thighs, effectively pinning him down and spreading him wide open. He doubles his efforts, fingers curled towards that spot, drawing whine after whine from Wooyoung.

"M'gonna—" Wooyoung's legs tremble from underneath Seonghwa's hand, fingers still thrusting in and out, angled right at his g-spot. Seonghwa has the pleasure of watching him twist his torso, throwing his head back on the sheets. "I'm— I-!"

"Yeah?" Seonghwa licks his lips, feeling a line of drool trail down the side of his mouth. "Gonna cum all over my fingers?"'

"Yes!" Wooyoung squeaks, and that's when he must notice the sounds his pussy is making. The sheer wetness decorating his thighs, even reaching Seonghwa's forearm. He squeezes his eyes shut, a last resort to the overwhelming feeling of his orgasm building. Seonghwa feels it, walls tight around his fingers. He resists the urge to lean in and suck on Wooyoung's clit, to taste him as Seonghwa gives him the best orgasm of his life. But his knees are aching, and his cock is so hard it hurts. If Wooyoung has made him wait this so long, shouldn't he get a little revenge?

Seonghwa pulls his fingers out, leaving Wooyoung empty.

"Huh?"

He sounds so confused, Seonghwa almost feels bad. But he doesn't cave in, standing up. He savors the strain of his legs, knowing it's because he was eating Wooyoung out like a full-course meal. He gives Wooyoung a small, proud smile, but it seems that the other isn't in the same boat. His hand is over his eyes, breathing heavily and muttering something that awfully sounds like Oppa, why? Seonghwa merely chuckles, bringing his drenched fingers to his mouth, letting them slip past his lips so he can lick them clean of Wooyoung's slick.

"Fuck, you taste so good." Seonghwa groans, licking the last of his wetness that his fingers are glistening under the light. He pauses, seeing Wooyoung peeking from where he's still hidden under his arm, a mortified expression on his face. Seonghwa raises a brow, wiping his hand on his jeans. "What? Been a while since I fucked a virgin, you know."

He catches Wooyoung's pussy clenching at the words, earning him an amused smirk from the older. Seonghwa pulls his shirt up, over his head and into the pile of clothes on the floor. Wooyoung's mouth is ajar, eyes trailing down Seonghwa's lean torso, the outline of his abs prominent under the light. He knows what he looks like, and knowing that Wooyoung likes what he sees feeds his bubbling pride even more. It's time to show him exactly what these muscles can do anyway.

He unbuttons his jeans, pulling them down halfway his thighs. The bulge in his underwear is even more obvious, straining against the fabric. He can't be bothered to wait anymore, the longer he does, the more it feels like he's torturing his hard cock. He pats Wooyoung's thigh from where he's still trembling on the bed, gesturing to the pillows on the headboard. "Up a little, baby."

Wooyoung climbs up the bed by his elbows until his head is almost resting on the pillows. Seonghwa has pulled his underwear down too, his cock springing free from its confines. He winces, the head is already an angry red, the thick shaft decorated with throbbing veins. He crawls into the bed with Wooyoung, sitting on his haunches as he stares at Wooyoung's flushed face.

"Oppa." Wooyoung breathes out, the way he's trying to avoid looking at Seonghwa's cock is obvious. Seonghwa grins, watching as Wooyoung's gaze flickers from his face back down to the way Seonghwa's cock is standing proudly between his legs. He knows he's well-endowed, he's had more than enough people moan and scream because of the size of his cock, and he can't wait until it's Wooyoung's turn to moan like a bitch in heat all because of him.

Wooyoung gulps, eyes now zeroed in on Seonghwa's face even when he uselessly closes his legs. He fiddles with his fingers, trying to look anywhere but at how Seonghwa is now leisurely stroking his cock. "Th-The condom?"

"Oh." Seonghwa deadpans, still jerking himself off. He forgot about that. Well, chose to. Since his original plan involved Wooyoung being… lightweight, he didn't think Wooyoung would have the mind to bring up something as irritating as a condom. He shrugs, reaching in his pocket to pull out a bottle of lube. "I don't have any. And uh, I don't know whose room this is."

Wooyoung shifts unsurely, biting his lip, looking at Seonghwa through his lashes. "What do we do?"

He could almost fucking cackle. It takes all of Seonghwa's strength not to show the pleasure on his face. It would be so easy to say it. Just let me fuck you raw so I can fill you with my cum. But he reminds himself he has to put up the act of a lover boy who would be oh-so-honored to be Wooyoung's first. On any other day, he'd savor it. He'd put up the sweet boyfriend act for Wooyoung any time, but he's done that before.

He inches closer to Wooyoung, pouring lube into his palm and lathering it all over his cock— and Wooyoung acts like Seonghwa's dick personally offends him, recoiling back into the pillows. A different kind of heat simmers underneath his skin, the familiar irritation at being denied making itself present.

"Well, I'm not waiting anymore so…" He laughs, humorless, running a hand through his hair. "I'll just pull out, okay?"

"But—"

"I promise." Seonghwa pushes him back down on the bed. Wooyoung's head hits the pillows, hair fanning across the expanse of white. Like a halo, perfect for an angel. There are a million words to describe his old hook-ups, some mediocre, most he just considered hot and called it a day. However, looking down at Wooyoung like this, knowing Wooyoung over these past few months and finally getting what he wants from his sweet little junior— it might be the first time Beautiful repeats in his mind like a mantra.

"You trust me, yeah?" Seonghwa gives his cock a few languid strokes, forcing Wooyoung's legs open and situating himself in between them. He takes another glance at Wooyoung's face, pausing just for a second, the smirk dropping infinitesimally.

He can't decipher Wooyoung's expression. His brows are drawn together, lips pursed shut. Undoubtedly, uncertainty is painted into every line and muscle. But he lets his legs fall open, he clutches at the sheets instead of pushing Seonghwa away. And the best thing about spending so much of his time with Wooyoung is that he knows what this look means.

He can't decide if it's laughable or admirable. Adorable, most definitely. It's then it dawns upon him to see it from Wooyoung's perspective— the magnitude of what they're about to do. In a sense, Wooyoung is Seonghwa's conquest. The best by far, but still, it's nothing he hasn't done before.

But to Wooyoung? To innocent, naive Wooyoung, that spent months thinking that Seonghwa was this picture-perfect senior, now looking at him with such sleazy desire at just the thought of popping his cherry— wouldn't he be scared? Concerned at the very least?

The best thing about it is that Seonghwa sees none of those things, and Wooyoung looks at him like he's challenging Seonghwa to do something.

And who is he to refuse such a generous offer?

His cock rests right above Wooyoung's pussy, savoring the way the coarse patch of hair feels against his length, how its already sticky with Wooyoung's slick. His breath catches in his throat when Seonghwa slaps his cock against Wooyoung's folds, the head catching on his clit. His fingers clench around the back of Wooyoung's knees, holding him in place as he angles his cock right at Wooyoung's dripping entrance. He can't help but let out a laugh of disbelief. This is real. This is happening. "Oppa's gonna fuck you so good."

He thinks of the very first time he saw Wooyoung, with his stone cold stare and his walls held up high. He looks back at every moment wherein he meticulously chipped at those walls every single time he sent a message, every single instance he flirted with Wooyoung and he'd see his dear junior melt. The virginity is a just plus of course, he'd have gone after Wooyoung either way. But the hottest part about this ordeal is that Wooyoung had looked at him with betrayal, and is looking at him with fear while his defenses are addled by alcohol— and yet, with Wooyoung's hooded eyes and the eager pants coming from his lips, the quiet determination is more present than ever.

Virgins are always like this. Seonghwa can't wait to break that confidence.

Seonghwa smiles apologetically at him, tucking a strand of hair behind Wooyoung's ear. "I'm so lucky to be the first cock in you."

He pushes in, the tip of his cock barely slipping inside— when Seonghwa sees the moment the regret washes over Wooyoung, muscles locking up and going rigid. Wooyoung's mouth is stuck open in a gasp, eyes going unfocused on the ceiling. Seonghwa pushes his cock in further, wincing at the impossibly tight heat gripping on the head of his cock. Too tight. Because Wooyoung's pussy is already trying to push him out and he doesn't even realize it.

Poor thing. That's what he gets for thinking taking cock is easy. Seonghwa's been biding his time for so long, more than he deserves to— and so his impatience gets the best of him, shifting on his knees to shove his cock in a few more inches until he's almost halfway inside. Wooyoung lets out a large gasp, breathing uneven, the way he's clenching around Seonghwa making the older unable to go in deeper.

"Woo— fuck. Relax." Seonghwa rasps out, a bead of sweat trailing down his temple.

Wooyoung finally lifts his head to look at him, eyes wide at where they're connected. He can clearly see his pussy stretching to accommodate Seonghwa's large cock. His shoulders shake, a grimace making its way onto his expression when Seonghwa shifts just a little more. He manages to choke out, "Oppa, s-slow—"

Seonghwa's not having it. He's waited this long and he's not going to let Wooyoung tell him what to do when he strolled into this house knowing exactly what Seonghwa wants from him. He cuts him off, pushing his knees farther apart until they're practically pinned to the bed. "Are you being serious or are you playing it up for me? Doesn't matter, it's hot."

Seonghwa grabs his hips and watches his cock go deeper inside Wooyoung's pussy.

"No! I'm—! You're so big I can't—!" Wooyoung cries out, face flushing so prettily when his hand fly to Seonghwa's shoulders, wrapping around his nape and holding on for dear life. Wooyoung's face is scrunched, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. His legs tremble as Seonghwa splits him open, his stubborn pussy still attempting to push the foreign intrusion out. Because that's what it is, isn't it? His cunt has never been played with like this before, Wooyoung's kept his innocence in tact for almost two decades and a large cock decides to break into his insides without any remorse.

And all because despite his sniffles or pained moans, he's so fucking wet around Seonghwa.

"It's not my fault your pussy is so tiny. So so fucking tight." A laugh bubbles out of him, last ropes of his composure snapping one by one. As if his pussy wasn't enough, Seonghwa has to watch as a tear escapes Wooyoung's eye. His hips can't help but twitch, lodging his cock deeper. Another wet line falls down to Wooyoung's jaw, and Seonghwa leans in to lick it away. "Don't be like that. Let me in. Try harder for oppa, baby."

Seonghwa's hips pull away slightly, only to shove the entirety of his length inside Wooyoung, bottoming out of his pussy. Seonghwa groans. It nearly drives him insane, after being blue balled for months, the feeling of a virgin's pussy gripping around his aching cock is definitely one of the top highs he's ever experienced in his life. All Wooyoung lets out is a small whimper, going still, as if Seonghwa's cock would go deeper if he dared to move a muscle. "See? I knew you could do it."

Finally. Fucking finally.

He looks down. His pussy is definitely fairing well, sucking him in so earnestly. But one look at Wooyoung's face is telling him that he's out of it, too overwhelmed to make a noise. Seonghwa grips his hips, squeezing the meat of his ass harshly, making Wooyoung jolt out of the haze in his head. "I'm gonna move now."

Seonghwa pulls out to the tip and slams back inside. Wooyoung shrieks, back arching off the bed and nails digging into the skin of Seonghwa's shoulder. His pussy is back to gripping Seonghwa's cock like a vice, but with how good it feels to finally fuck Wooyoung like he dreamed of, there's no way he's stopping now. Wooyoung's hands fall to his sides as Seonghwa straightens up, pushing Wooyoung's knees upward until they're practically folded to his chest. He grits his teeth as he sinks over and over again into Wooyoung's pussy at a desperate speed, cock pulling out just to fill Wooyoung in deep strokes over and over again.

"Oppa," Wooyoung whines, doesn't know what to do with his hands, pressing a palm down over his abdomen as if he could feel Seonghwa's cock in there. Wooyoung's mouth falls open, taking in huge intakes of air. He chokes out, "Slow down."

"What was that?" Seonghwa leans forward, hooking Wooyoung's knees over his shoulders and snapping his hips at a quicker pace. He tilts his head innocently, watching Wooyoung's eyes widen out of their sockets.

"Sl- Ah- Slow—" He gasps, but Seonghwa doesn't have it in him to slow down.

He hums. "Can't hear you, babe."

Wooyoung shuts up then, or realizes that his tongue is unable to work against the thrusts rattling his entire body. Seonghwa closes his eyes, throwing his head back to savor the feeling of Wooyoung's walls massaging his cock every single time he forces his length back in. The sounds of his hips slamming against Wooyoung's ass ring in the silence of the room, only combatted by the wet sounds of Wooyoung's pussy gushing around his cock.

He realizes Wooyoung's been awfully quiet too. Seonghwa looks down.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung's eyes are rolled to the back of his head, a line of drool falling from his lips. The only thing he's letting out are little huffs of breath, gasping every time Seonghwa pushes his cock back in, sliding past that little spot that he knows drives Wooyoung crazy. He might as well be losing his mind right now with the way he looks. But he's still fighting against it, Seonghwa can see it. Still keeping his moans lodged in his chest and holding in the tears pooling at the bottom of his eyelids.

Seonghwa lifts Wooyoung's hips off the bed with both of his hands, holding them in place and fucking in and out of the tight heat like it was a fleshlight made just for Seonghwa's cock. Wooyoung's legs are shaking on either side of Seonghwa's hips, his hands coming up to grab Seonghwa's wrists like that would do anything. His hold is weak, too fucked out to do anything but sob, letting his head loll to the side and let Seonghwa use his pussy.

"You like my cock, baby?" Seonghwa grunts, a condescending lilt to his question. "It's your first time and you already like getting fucked dumb?"

Wooyoung doesn't answer. Of course, he doesn't.

"Didn't take you for a slut, you know." Seonghwa croons. "Little Virgin Youngie crying on his oppa's cock."

Wooyoung tightens at the words. "S-Seonghwa—"

"Ah-ah." Seonghwa digs his nails into Wooyoung's ass, a startled whimper escaping Wooyoung at the sharp pain. "How many times do we have to go over this?"

"Say it." Seonghwa slows his thrusts, hard and deep, grinding into his g-spot. He stares right at Wooyoung, right on his face blotchy with tears. "Oppa."

"O-" Another thrust. Another choked out moan. "Oppa."

Seonghwa hums in approval, resuming his previous pace. He thrusts in hard and fast, little crescents forming on Wooyoung's with the force Seonghwa is holding him up with. He lets out a shaky exhale, chasing his pleasure in the heat enveloping him. He could very much just use Wooyoung's pussy like a toy until he gets off, but he needs to hear it. Needs to see Wooyoung cry out for him, needs to hear him say it so Seonghwa can finally chase that sweet sweet release. "That's better. Again."

"O-" Wooyoung tries, he really does, but all that escapes him are little ah ah ahs and poor attempts at whimpering out the title. It makes Seonghwa's dick twitch in his pussy, doubling his efforts and causing Wooyoung to choke on the word even more.

"Oppa—" Wooyoung's eyes widen like saucers, his rigid body suddenly thrashing on the sheets. He's unable to writhe away from Seonghwa's cock, the pressure building and building until Seonghwa can see the panic all over his expression. "—feels weird, oppa— oh!"

Wooyoung's pussy seizes around him, and he comes with a loud sob. Seonghwa is still fucking him when his body goes stiff, constricting Seonghwa's cock before he lets go. And he lets go so beautifully. Seonghwa can barely see his irises, eyelids fluttering violently and mouth open in a silent scream. It doesn't even register immediately, the wetness on his cock, splashing on his hips, on his hands, dripping down Wooyoung's thighs and soaking the sheets beneath them.

Wooyoung squirted. Got his virginity taken so mercilessly and he fucking squirted.

"Holy shit." Seonghwa's mouth is agape in shock and a sick sense of satisfaction. The force of Wooyoung's orgasm pushed his cock out of his cunt, now clenching around nothing, not a single patch of skin left dry with the amount of squirt he gushed out. Seonghwa lets out a laugh of disbelief. "Did you know you could do that?"

Wooyoung is sniffling, trying to hide his face into the pilllows as his body lays weak and shivering on the sheets. He shakes his head, face red from exhaustion and embarrassment. Seonghwa is still impossibly hard, and Wooyoung's position makes it easy to slot his cock between his fat pussy lips, matting the hair down with his own release and the glide of Seonghwa's cock.

"Fu-uck—" It doesn't take long until his cock is twitching against Wooyoung's folds, holding his hips down to grind onto his messy pussy. Soon enough, white spurts out of his cum, his release landing on Wooyoung's abdomen and belly button. He catches his breath for a few seconds, sliding his cock forward and back until it's covered with both their fluids.

Wooyoung's eyes are drifting closed, limp and exhausted that he doesn't react when Seonghwa grabs him to turn him over, rolling him onto his stomach. He's still recovering from his orgasm, maybe that's why he doesn't say anything when the sheets rustle from Seonghwa grabbing the forgotten lube. Or when he raises Wooyoung's hips so he's on his knees, face down and ass up. Seonghwa pours lube onto his fingers, before holding the bottle between Wooyoung's asscheeks, letting it fall directly on his hole.

Wooyoung jolts at the sudden cold sensation, looking back at Seonghwa. "What are you doing?" His brain is doing its best to catch up after his earlier orgasm, and it must not have the strength to tell his body to pull away. He stays completely still, pushing himself up on his elbows and looking over his shoulderm as if not registering why Seonghwa's fingers are glistening with lube. "You already fucked me. I already came."

"I thought we agreed that I'd take all your firsts?" Seonghwa warms up the lube, rubbing his fingers together. The gears are turning in Wooyoung's head, expression morphing into a dreaded realization. "That includes your ass."

The panic is rising in Wooyoung's voice. His retort is high pitched, defensive. "I didn't say anything like that."

"Well I put my cock inside here," Seonghwa scoffs, slapping Wooyoung's pussy lightly. He then spreads one of Wooyoung's cheeks, tapping his wet finger on the tight muscle of his asshole. "So it only makes sense I take your virginity here too, right? Like a good boyfriend would."

"Boyfrie—" Wooyoung's eyebrows shoot up at the word. He shakes his head, focusing on Seonghwa's other words and letting the proposition sink in. He nibbles on his lower lip, looking down at where his elbows are digging into the mattress. He glances back up at Seonghwa. "I don't know."

"It won't hurt, baby. I promise." Seonghwa pushes his knees farther apart, pulling back the fat of Wooyoung’s ass cheeks just to see it jiggle against his hand. He smirks to himself, his lubed fingers finding their way to the tight ring of muscle.

One of his long fingers wriggle their way inside, curling against Wooyoung’s clenched walls. Wooyoung, the smart boy, must realize tensing will only make him feel Seonghwa’s digits more. His breathing evens out, muscles relaxing and allowing Seonghwa to slip another wet finger inside.

"Feels weird." Wooyoung huffs, biting his lower lip when Seonghwa starts thrusting those fingers in and out. On every thrust, Seonghwa takes his time to scissor his fingers against his walls.

Seonghwa squeezes his ass, kneading it in a gesture of mock comfort. "It'll feel better."

It’s nothing like how he fingered Wooyoung’s pussy, quick and desperate to search for that spot that’d make Wooyoung’s eyes roll to the back of his head. He keeps his fingers slow and methodical, properly stretching Wooyoung out. A third finger pushes in alongside the other two, and he must feel the stretch now. Even with his back to Seonghwa, he can hear Wooyoung try to keep his overwhelmed breaths steady, he shake of his shoulders unmistakable.

Seonghwa pulls out his fingers to spread Wooyoung’s cheeks apart, tongue darting out to wet his lip at how the tiny hole is now fluttering, wet with lube, and maybe Wooyoung doesn’t feel it yet— but Seonghwa can see how ready he is. He adjusts, holding his cock to press on Wooyoung’s asshole, the other hand anchored on Wooyoung’s hip. Fireworks are about to explode behind Seonghwa’s irises, a perverse glee evident on his features when he thinks about how he’s technically taking Wooyoung’s virginity twice.

He’s about to push in and internally celebrate when Wooyoung lifts himself up on the bed, perhaps a last resort. An attempt to bargain when he knows he hasn’t had much success before. "I really don't know."

Seonghwa’s on the last thread of his patience. He’s used it up all these months, used so much of it the moment he felt a drunk pretty boy practically throw himself on Seonghwa’s lap. So it shouldn’t be surprising that he’s a little pissed that Wooyoung’s stalling again, one step away from backing out. He sighs, a palm stretching between Wooyoung’s shoulder blades and roughly pushing him back down on the bed.

"You don't know anything, so let me take care of it." Seonghwa says sharply, the carefulness that he gave Wooyoung’s pussy earlier absent with the way his cock breaches Wooyoung’s hole. He pushes inside, feeling the way the body underneath him attempts to push back against his firm hand, but he doesn’t pause until his hips are flush with Wooyoung’s ass.

“Fuck.” Wooyoung wails, helplessly clawing at the sheets. “Hurts.”

Seonghwa grunts. He’s had virgins before, but all the guys and girls who let him fuck their asses always had experience. Wooyoung is tighter here, wrapping around Seonghwa’s cock like it never wants to let go, like at the first taste of a cock in his ass, he already wants it to be a constant. At least, that’s what Wooyoung’s hole is telling Seonghwa, regardless if the boy underneath him lets out little whimpers of pain.

Seonghwa might be a conniving piece of shit, but he isn’t a liar. He wants Wooyoung to feel good just as much as he does, in every way possible, even if he has to draw the pleasure out from him to get there. He rubs his hand up and down the arch of Wooyoung’s back, tracing all the moles, running his fingers along the two small divots on Wooyoung’s lower back. "Shhh." He reaches around Wooyoung’s hip to rub at his neglected clit. "It's okay."

Wooyoung gasps, hole seizing around Seonghwa’s cock. He can feel him still dripping, wave and wave of slick coating Seonghwa’s fingers as he rubs his clit in slow circles. He can feel Wooyoung’s pussy clench when he drives his cock deeper in his ass and a particulary harsh rub to his clit has him letting out a muffled moan into the pillows. But he’s still too wound up, still too tight for Seonghwa to move and make this pleasurable for the both of them.

Seonghwa heaves a sigh, pulling out of Wooyoung. His eyes land on a small article of clothing, forgotten on the side of the bed. Wooyoung uses that moment of respite to get on all fours, only looking back at Seonghwa when he shuffles to return to Wooyoung’s backside. His eyes land on the fabric Seonghwa’s toying with in his hands, brows furrowing when he sees the unmistakable pink cotton.

Seonghwa chuckles, crumpling Wooyoung’s wet panties in his hand. He looks at Seonghwa in confusion when he holds them up, before he brings his hand down to press the fabric in between Wooyoung’s pussy lips. He doesn’t wait for a protest, the ball of Wooyoung’s panties being shoved inside him like a makeshift plug. He pushes the fabric with his fingers until they’re lodged deep in Wooyoung’s cunt. "So your pussy isn't lonely."

Wooyoung looks like he doesn’t know whether to be aroused or absolutely horrified at the feeling of his own panties inside him. But he doesn’t utter a single word, letting Seonghwa admire his filled pussy, clenching around his panties, matching with the way his asshole is already stretched open from Seonghwa’s cock. With that, he doesn’t wait for a single moment more, pulling Wooyoung’s back until his dick sinks into Wooyoung’s hole in a single thrust.

Seonghwa pulls him forward and back, moving Wooyoung like a ragdoll and fucking into him with hard, piercing strokes. He can go deeper like this, Wooyoung’s pussy is small, tiny and still so afraid. But his ass takes Seonghwa like a champ, he can fuck him as deep as he wants and his hole would open up so prettily, probably able to take all of Seonghwa’s cock until his belly would be bulging with his enormous size.

That thought makes him grunt, raising Wooyoung’s hips to drive himself deeper into his ass. His body jostles with every thrust, hands now flying up to grip the headboard until his knuckles turns white. He can barely hold himself up, guttural cries tearing out of his lips, sniffling every time he gets a chance to breathe— and Seonghwa doesn’t plan on making that easier either. Seonghwa fucks him faster, Wooyoung lets his head fall limp between his shoulders. His back is glowing with a thin sheen of sweat, back curling and arching like he doesn’t know if he wants to push back on Seonghwa’s cock or escape the overwhelming sensation.

"Listen to yourself. Fuck, look at you." Seonghwa practically growls, slapping Wooyoung’s ass, the sound echoing throughout the room. He grins, running his hand through his hair and pushing it back. "I really scored the jackpot, huh?"

Wooyoung moans, loud and breathy, a garbled plead turning into another sob.

"God you sound like a whore." Seonghwa fucks him harder, the sound of skin slapping on skin obscene, mixed with Wooyoung’s wanton moans. He grabs Wooyoung by the hair, pulling on the strands, Wooyoung’s neck stretched and head thrown back. He uses that as leverage to pull him back against his cock faster. Wooyoung cries out again, from pain or pleasure, Seonghwa doesn’t know. “Do you like getting your ass fucked more?"

"N-no—"

"What?" Seonghwa muses, fingers tighteniround Wooyoung’s scalp. He looks down to stare at the way Wooyoung’s asshole is stretched around Seonghwa’s cock, lube and slick dripping down his thighs. "Who are you lying to? You're loving this."

"Mm- not like that—"

"Then why are you bitching?" Wooyoung doesn’t give him a response, save for a whimper. The younger’s hand leaves the headboard to press on his abdomen, as if he could feel Seonghwa there. As if even with a huge cock in his ass, his core is still so hot and empty. He realizes it then, hand sliding downward to put his palm over Wooyoung’s hand. "Oh, you like it in your pussy more, baby?"

Wooyoung nods his head vigorously.

Seonghwa smirks, squeezing Wooyoung’s hand, pressing on his abdomen harder. "Say it then. Ask me to fuck you."

Seonghwa tries to remember the first time he realized the perfect golden boy life wasn’t for him. Maybe it was the first time he ate a girl out in his car, or maybe it was when a slutty junior came onto him but struggled to take his cock in the same night. Either way, the memories are lost on him, because it was routine that went on and on. He remembers vividly the first time Hongjoong teased him about his crush on Wooyoung, and how all of them were a little sick of the obsession he developed on Wooyoung.

Seonghwa doesn’t date, everyone knows that. But he once said that the door to his heart is through his cock, and it’d take the perfect set of holes for him to be locked down. It’s laughable now, because all of them were right. He knew from the moment he laid eyes on Wooyoung that he’d be different, that Seonghwa would chase him no matter what. He agreed to go on a date for godsake, called himself Wooyoung’s boyfriend before he even fully broke him.

Seonghwa slows his thrusts, only to watch Wooyoung’s fucked out, tired face turn to face him. He halts his movements, allowing Wooyoung to pull off of his cock with a wet sound. He lets go of the headboard, balancing on his knees to reach behind his back. Wooyoung is still breathing heavily, still using his entire strength just to hold himself up. He arches his back, spreading himself open, showing both of his needy holes to Seonghwa.

"Please, oppa— fuck my pussy." He breathes out, drawing out the title like a fucking pornstar. Seonghwa’s jaw drops, mind going blank, unable to tear his gaze away. He watches the facade break ever so slightly, the familiar embarrassment painted on Wooyoung’s features. His voice is shakier now, but not any less desperate. Desperate for cock. Desperate for him. "Use it— Want your cock in my cunt."

Something snaps in Seonghwa.

He wraps his fingers around Wooyoung’s nape and pushes downwards. Wooyoung loses his balance, bracing his palms on the sheets before his cheeks connects with the soft mattress. His back is arched perfectly, legs spread wide and waiting. It takes no words, just the shaky exhale of pure want escaping Seonghwa when he lines himself up and shoves the entirety of his cock into Wooyoung’s pussy.

Wooyoung squeals.

And Seonghwa’s thighs are wet. Wooyoung squirts around his cock, drenching them both with his release. He groans, fingers mindlessly tightening around the back of Wooyoung’s neck. It’s enough to push Seonghwa out, but all he does is fuck his cock back into Wooyoung’s pussy, all pretense of caution thrown out of the window. He doesn’t care about the bass from the party still reverberating just outside. He doesn’t care about how he’ll have to face the knowing faces of all his friends in the morning.

His cock reaches deep inside Wooyoung’s pussy, he feels his panties practically wrapping around his length from the inside. Soft and delicate against the warm, slutty tightness of Wooyoung’s cunt. It riles him up even more, letting out a curse as he adjusts and fucks right into Wooyoung’s g-spot, both his hard cock and the weight if his panties pushing up against that perfect angle.

Wooyoung shrieks into the sheets at how Seonghwa fucks into him fast and hard. No matter how hot it is to hear his baby’s overwhelmed cries, nothing beats the sound of Wooyoung’s moans filling the room, filling his ears, hopefully bleeding out into the hallway so everyone can know what he’s doing to him. So he fixes that problem— taking both of Wooyoung’s wrists in each hand and pulling him up until his torso lifts off of the bed.

There are no words coming out from Wooyoung. There are only sounds, loud and whiny, sometimes reaching an octave Seonghwa didn’t know he could reach. But his favorite ones are the choked-out ones, hoarse against Wooyoung’s throat, because he knows those are the ones where his eyes are rolled back to the back of his head and his tongue can’t keep itself in Wooyoung’s mouth. He resists the urge to flip Wooyoung around and see that exact expression, but he’s using the man’s arms as an anchor, with Wooyoung’s pussy gets pistoned by his cock, and he can’t just tear his eyes away from the sight.

There must be a million thoughts running through Wooyoung’s mind. About how this is wrong, how he has no shame or dignity left being treated like this— but truly, Seonghwa’s only intention is to make sure no thinking is done in that pretty head of his. He wants to crush all those sweet, innocent thoughts, and turn them into nothing but thinking of Seonghwa’s cock and all the ways its going to ruin every part of Wooyoung’s body because he didn’t tell Seonghwa to stop, not once. He wants this flawless, albeit a little stupid, junior to forget everything that he was before tonight and turn him into the best cockslut Seonghwa has ever had the pleasure of breaking.

He lets go of Wooyoung’s arms, and he ragdolls onto the sheets, brain unable to keep up with the way Seonghwa’s thrusts are jostling his entire form. He barely has time to hold himself up, before Seonghwa’s already casting a shadow in front of the shitty overhead light. The entire bed is moving, the headboard insistently meeting the grey wallpaper in time with Seonghwa’s thrusts. The hinges squeak underneath them, and the way Wooyoung’s moaning like a bitch in heat makes what they’re doing unmistakable to anyone who passes by.

He hunches over Wooyoug, chest pressed against his back. He places a hand over Wooyoung’s weak one, slender fingers over Wooyoung’s knuckles. He feels the small movement of Wooyoung’s pink attempting to intertwine with Seonghwa’s own.

Seonghwa laughs, giving a sharp bite to Wooyoung’s shoulder. He gasps under Seonghwa’s hold, feeling the older’s arms wrap around his torso, pulling Wooyoung back to meet his thrusts in the picture of a warm embrace. "Did you think your first time was gonna be romantic?" Seonghwa asks into his ear, low and mocking. "Or are you such a needy slut you'd let a creep like me ruin your pussy?"

Wooyoung answers with a small whine, mouth opening to answer but nothing comes out, so all he does is nod. Seonghwa’s eyelids dare to flutter at the movement, feeling the heat in his gut tighten. His cock is being sucked into Wooyoung’s cunt, the sensation of fucking him raw will always be branded into his mind, will forever be an itch he wants to scratch every single day for as long as he lives. The faster he fucks Wooyoung, the more the muscles of his thighs tense in an impending orgams.

He knows it’ll be the best one he’s ever had. And he doesn’t want to waste that opportunity.

"For all the trouble you've given me, I should breed you, fill your womb with my cum." He nibbles on Wooyoung’s ear, smiling against his earlobe as if he said the sweetest thing in the world. In a sense, he did. Is there anything more romantic than wanting to see someone pleasured to no end and filled so thoroughly with cum that he’ll still feel your claim in him the day after?

He says it with such tenderness that it takes Wooyoung a second to register what he just said. He shakes his head, reaching back to grip on Seonghwa’s thighs. He must not get it yet. Seonghwa wasn’t necessarily asking. “No? But what if I want to? I'm so close, Woo."

Wooyoung freezes in his grasp. The moment he realizes that Seonghwa is fully serious, he snaps out of his fucked up haze. The hands holding his thighs start pushing at him to get off from behind Wooyoung. He tries to look back, but Seonghwa’s face is buried into his shoulder, kissing and sucking at the skin there, hips still adamant on pushing in and out of him.

"No— you said—" Wooyoung heaves a sob. "You said you'd pull out."

"But I want to cum inside." Seonghwa pouts against Wooyoung’s shoulder blade. He lets out a whine of protest, giving up on pushing Seonghwa off and instead shaking his head. "You don't want me to? What was that?"

"Oppa please pull out—"

“Why should I?”

"I don't want to get pregnant!" Wooyoung cries. He cries. He breaks out into a cacophany of sniffles and sobs, desperate and garbled, a wheezing sound with every breath he takes. All his noises are fuel to Seonghwa, making his thrusts impossibly harder, every sound drawing out the deepest most horrible parts of him that feed off of knowing he’s reducing Wooyoung to this. He grips Wooyoung’s hips tighter, his thrusts turning erratic and signalling his impending orgasm.

And for a virgin, he’s smart, knowing exactly what’s about to happen. Wooyoung tries again, and Seonghwa is surprised he doesn’t have whiplash with how hard he’s moving his head side to side. "I don't want oppa to get me pregnant. Please no—"

"Please please please—!" His leg kicks out, a last resort. It does nothing to deter Seonghwa. It amuses him even more, knowing that Wooyoung’s pussy is getting ruined and there really isn’t anything he can do to stop it. It lights his veins on fire, all this power in his hands, the decision is with him, isn’t it? He can ruin Wooyoung even more if he wishes. Fresh meat used beyond repair, only belonging to Seonghwa now, pussy forever molded to the shape of his cock. He can do even more. The thought of releasing his seed deep into Wooyoung’s womb and spending all of his days taking care of him with his belly round and full unlocks something almost feral inside of him.

"Please, oppa. Pull out!"

"Mm fuck—"

But Seonghwa isn’t a monster.

He pulls out of Wooyoung’s pussy. But his cock is red and angry, and he’s probably going to lose his mind if he doesn’t cum again soon. He steps off the bed, leaving Wooyoung limp on the sheets. He walks towards the headboard, propping up one knee on the mattress and turning Wooyoung around to face him. His cock almost hits Wooyoung on the cheek, the younger squinting his eyes, an evident wrinkle in his forehead. Seonghwa smiles at him. "All your holes, I get their firsts, remember?"

He taps his cock on Wooyoung’s lips. "This is a hole, no?"

"I don't know how." Wooyoung’s voice is hoarse from crying. Seonghwa feels a little bad, but a part of him is beaming with glee. Not a no, or stop, or too much, but an invitation to teach him what Seonghwa’s an absolute expert at.

Seonghwa runs his fingers through the strands of Wooyoung’s hair, nails lightly scratching at his scalp. Wooyoung’s eyes look like they’re about to flutter closed, earning a chuckle from Seonghwa. Cute, but he still really needs to cum. "It's okay. Just let me use your mouth."

Wooyoung merely blinks up at him, eyes wide and waiting. He keeps one hand on Wooyoung’s hair, the other holding his jaw and tilting his head to pry open his mouth. He can see Wooyoung’s throat move in a harsh gulp, staring straight at the cock that doesn’t seem like it’s gonna fit in his mouth any time soon. Ironic, really, how a loud, bratty mouth is always open in a jeer or a cackle, but is shy now when those lips wrap softly around the tip of his cock. Wooyoung tries suckling on the head of his cock, like he would with a lollipop, giving little, unsure licks to the slit. Seonghwa grins— typical of someone unexperienced. And it doesn’t necessarily feel all that great, but it’s Wooyoung, so he’s more than willing to let him do it for a couple of seconds.

When he gets too impatient, he squeezes Wooyoung’s jaw, a silent request for him to just keep his jaw slack. Wooyoung follows, and his face contorts when Seonghwa feeds his cock into Wooyoung’s waiting mouth. What a good boy, remembering to keep his teeth off Seonghwa. However, not even halfway in, his eyes clamp shut and he starts gagging around Seonghwa’s cock. He quickly pulls out, feeling Wooyoung’s forehead grow more damp as takes a few deep pants.

He pushes his cock into Wooyoung’s again, but angles hips so that he doesn’t go any deeper. The tip meets the soft walls of Wooyoung’s cheek, and as much as Seonghwa wants to teach Wooyoung how to properly deepthroat him, this look on Wooyoung is definitely much more erotic. There’s a bulge in his cheek, the outline of Seonghwa’s cock evident through his skin. Seonghwa tentatively shifts, watching as his cock slides in and out with ease. He lets out a pleased hum, Wooyoung’s mouth is just as warm as the rest of him. He starts fucking in and out of Wooyoung’s mouth, his wet lips glide along the veins of Seonghwa’s cock, while the tight heat enveloping his cockhead is enough for him to feel absolutely elated.

Taking turns on all Wooyoung’s holes certainly did a number on him. Just looking at this, Wooyoung nearly going cross-eyed and focusing on making Seonghwa feel good is enough for him to feel the impending orgasm he’s been denying himself of. He gives a few more thrusts to Wooyoung’s cheek before pulling out.

“Tongue out.” Wooyoung obeys as soon as the words leave Seonghwa’s mouth, the pink muscle stretching past his lips. He grabs the base of his cock, biting his lip as he rubs the head over Wooyoung’s tongue. He can feel him flatten his tongue, making is easier for Seonghwa to practically grind his tip all over Wooyoung’s wet tongue. He strokes his cock, relishing in the way Wooyoung looks up at him, eyes glassy and desperate. His tongue is out and Seonghwa can feel drool dripping from the corner of his mouth and even on his cock. He looks so fucking stupid and slutty and really, he’s overjoyed to be the first person to ever do this to him.

Overjoyed. A few minutes ago, it was excited, horny, ego-boosting. But now something swells in his chest as he softly cards his fingers through Wooyoung’s hair. His breathing grows heavier, the flicks of his wrist becoming faster. It’s then Wooyoung’s lips upturn into a small smile— then a nod. He’s giving Seonghwa all the permission he needs to cum on this pretty face.

And he does.

Seonghwa lets out a long moan when his cum splatters all over Wooyoung’s face— on his mouth, on his cheeks, some of it even gets in his hair. Wooyoung is breathing just as heavily as San is, licking away the stripes of white that landed on his lips. Seonghwa lets go of his jaw, patting Wooyoung’s cheek with a small smile, and letting him rest on the bed. He crawls between Wooyoung’s legs, finding his pussy, and digging two of his fingers inside of Wooyoung’s cunt until he manages to pull out his ruined panties. If he sees Seonghwa crumple it in his hand and leave it on the bedside to take for later, he doesn’t say anything.

The room is dark save for the pale sliver of moonlight slipping through the curtains, seeping into the room Seonghwa now distantly remembers is from one of Mingi’s nameless and irrelevant frat bros. The music from downstairs is distant, and it’s funny how hearing the boosted bass is the only time he realizes they’re still at a party. He blinks, watching the form on the sheets twist in an attempt to move into a more comfortable position. He crawls beside Wooyoung, back to the upright pillows and pulls Wooyoung closer to him, a hand wrapped around his shoulder. Wooyoung is a warm, boneless weight against the mattress, his body still bearing the evidence of everything Seonghwa just took from him, from the marks on his neck, the slight tremor in his thighs, to the hoarseness in his voice.

“Oppa."

The word comes out wrecked and small, letting his head loll and rest against Wooyoung’s shoulder. Seonghwa feels it travel straight down his spine. He'll never get tired of hearing that. Never. It might be his favorite sound in the world now, beating Wooyoung’s moans when he cums. He pulls Wooyoung closer, hand drifting down to hold his waist.

He leans in, pressing a lazy kiss to Wooyoung's hair, his lips curving into a smile against the warm skin. "Hm?"

A pause. Wooyoung shifts slightly, and Seonghwa can practically hear the gears turning in that pretty, exhausted head of his. The words are on the tip of his tongue, like he’s deciding whether it’s worth saying. He licks his lips, looking up at Seonghwa with uncertainty in his eyes. "There's this restaurant I've been eyeing."

Seonghwa blinks. Right, the boyfriend thing. The whole, we’re going on a date next Friday that Seonghwa has admittedly forgotten when he was balls-deep inside Wooyoung’s pussy. The thought should concern him, at the very least. He’s not the type to go on dates and buy people flowers. But in a way, it’s not that different from what they’re doing now, is it? A slow, genuine smile spreads across his face. He doesn't even have to think about his answer. His hand slides up from Wooyoung's waist to his hip, squeezing gently, a silent promise. “I’ll get you there baby.”

He watches Wooyoung’s profile in the dim light, at how he visibly lights up, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. There’s a small smile on his lips, even when he’s adorning all the exhaustion Seonghwa gave to him. Something about how soft he looks make Seonghwa strangely possessive, not in the way he’d want to own Wooyoung, god forbid, but in a way that he doesn’t mind if this little arrangement of theirs went on and on, doesn’t mind if he has Wooyoung here a while longer.

"Tired?" he asks, though the answer is obvious.

Wooyoung huffs a breathless little laugh, and Seonghwa feels it puff against his neck. He can't help the smirk that tugs at his lips. He'd been thorough, he made sure of it. He'd wanted to ruin Wooyoung for anyone else, and judging by the way the younger can barely lift his head, he had succeeded. “Yeah, that’s usually how losing your virginity goes.” 

He can’t resist a little teasing, that’s how they are. Especially when Wooyoung rolls his eyes and he feels that smile on his skin, before Wooyoung turns around and lets his head fall on the pillows. Seonghwa watches the curve of his bare shoulder, the marks blooming all over his skin, and the way he sleepily hums in the quiet of the room. “I’m going to sleep.”

Seonghwa stares at the back of his head. “Night, Wooyoung.”

He comes out of the bathroom with a towel in hand, wet after running it through some hot water. The least he can do is make sure Wooyoung doesn’t feel gross tomorrow. He maneuvers Wooyoung’s sleeping body so that Seonghwa can thoroughly clean him up, on his back, with his chest rising and falling steadily. As he’s about the rub the cloth on Wooyoung’s skin, his forgotten phone buzzes against the bedside table.

He looks at Wooyoung again, the words ring in his mind. I liked the thought of being just a little special to you. He thinks of all these months he’s spent admiring him. He thinks of the amazing sex Wooyoung just gave, and is willing to give him after tonight. He thinks of Wooyoung being so special to him, that he’s the first one to meet all of Seonghwa’s friends. He’s the first one he gets to keep.

Boyfriend. Maybe he likes the sound of that, after all.