Work Text:
Sang-woo was sixteen the first time he saw Gi-hun smoke.
He remembered how had Gi-hun effortlessly held the cigarette between his fingers. He remembered how Gi-hun's eyes were half lidded, a lazy smile stretched across his face. Remembered how the smoke curled out of Gi-hun's mouth, tantalizing Sang-woo, pulling him in.
Sang-woo also remembered having to run home and hiding in his bedroom afterwards, turned on beyond belief and completely disgusted with himself.
Ever since then, every time Gi-hun smoked in front of him, Sang-woo had to bite his lip and dig his nails into his palm. He'd just stood there and quietly watched as his hyung smoked, a painful hunger nipping at his stomach and cock, nearly driving him insane with lust.
Back then, Sang-woo thought he would never be able to be with the man he loved. He thought that Gi-hun would always be out of his reach, that he was a deviant for falling in love with his friend and that he wasn't good enough for Gi-hun anyways.
But that's in the past, Sang-woo thought, watching as Gi-hun set up his camera and fixed the bed, making sure the pillows were arranged perfectly, I don't have to hide anymore. He's mine now. Completely mine.
“What are you going to wear?” Sang-woo asked, watching as Gi-hun fiddled with the lights, “Lingerie?”
Gi-hun shook his head, “Nope!” he smiled and took off his robe, letting it fall to the ground, “I'm gonna wear this!”
For a moment, Sang-woo forgot how to breathe.
Sang-woo was used to his boyfriend wearing lingerie and dresses for his camboy job. He was used to seeing Gi-hun in stockings and panties and crop tops and yet...
And yet...
“What do you think?” Gi-hun struck a pose, “I know it's not my usual attire but—“
Gi-hun was wearing a white mesh tank top and tight satin briefs that left nothing to the imagination. The fabric clung to Gi-hun's thighs and cock, and all Sang-woo wanted to do was fall to his knees and take them off with his teeth.
“Ah,” he gulped and ran a hand down his face, suddenly feeling very warm, “that's-it's not-” he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, “isn't it a little...plain?”
“Plain?” Gi-hun pouted, “you think so?”
Sang-woo shook his head, “No, no, I didn't—“ he sighed, “you look great. I just meant it's-it's definitely different than what you usually wear.”
“Right?” Gi-hun smiled, “believe it or not, someone in the chat suggested it and everybody seemed to like the idea,” Gi-hun winked at him. He turned around and reached for something on the night stand, “I'm just missing one more thing!”
“What's that?”
Gi-hun face Sang-woo and held out his hands, “This!”
Blinking, Sang-woo looked at the items in Gi-hun's hands. His mouth dropped opened and his cock twitched.
“They want to see me smoking,” Gi-hun shrugged, taking a cigarette out of the carton and placing it between his lips, “I mean, it seems a little mild but,” he shrugged, clicking the lighter on, “I suppose the viewers want what they want.”
Sang-woo watched Gi-hun wrap his lips around the cigarette and inhale deeply. He watched Gi-hun hold the smoke in his lungs before slowly blowing the smoke out, his face and shoulders relaxing.
“Ah...” sighing, Gi-hun touched a button on the camera and sat down on the bed, one leg underneath him. He leaned back and grinned at the camera, eyes half lidded.
Mouth dry, Sang-woo rubbed his sweaty hands on his pants, his breath catching in his throat. He watched as Gi-hun posed for the camera, smoke curling around his head almost like a halo. He watched Gi-hun smoke and smoke and Sang-woo felt as if he was drowning.
He felt like a teenager again. He felt dirty. Confused. Aroused. Ready.
Gi-hun spread his legs, and tousled his hair, strands falling across his forehead. He stared at the camera and rested his elbows on his knees, cigarette hanging from his lips. Sang-woo gulped and tried to look away, tried to move his head but he couldn't. He just sat there and watched as Gi-hun continued to pose, continued to smoke, continued to drive Sang-woo insane.
“Hyung,” Sang-woo whispered, crossing his legs and squirming in the chair, sweat prickling his forehead, “are...um...” he didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. He just...he just needed.
He needed.
“Just one more cigarette,” Gi-hun told him, quickly putting out the one he'd been smoking, “afterwards, if you want we can have a...” he stared at Sang-woo, eyes dark and bright and licked his lips, “...have a treat if you'd like.”
Sang-woo whimpered silently but nodded, hair flopping. His glasses slipped down his nose but he didn't care.
Panting, he watched as Gi-hun lit another cigarette. He inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in his lungs, before puffing it out, pink lips pursed.
He's doing this on purpose, Sang-woo realized, the thought sending another bolt of arousal thrumming through his body, he knows what he's doing, Gi-hun crawled onto the bed and turned his back to the camera. He arched his back and widened his legs, sticking his ass out. He turned his head a little, and took the cigarette out of his mouth. He blew Sang-woo a kiss and winked, a small grin painted on his lips.
Groaning, Sang-woo doubled over in pleasure and pain. His cock pulsed against his slacks and Sang-woo desperately wanted to pounce on Gi-hun. He wanted to shove Gi-hun's face into the pillows. Wanted to grope and bite his ass until it was red, until Gi-hun's skin burned.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Gi-hun asked, laughing, “almost done,” he turned back around and sat on the edge of the bed again, crossing his legs and blowing out smoke towards the camera, “can you wait a little longer?”
Whining, Sang-woo nodded. He could wait. He could wait. Just a little longer. Just a little longer.
And then Gi-hun leaned back on one hand and opened his legs, smoke drifting from his mouth and Sang-woo couldn't stop the groan that tore out of his throat when he saw that Gi-hun was hard.
“Hyung,” Sang-woo fell to his knees, panting, “can I—“ he crawled forward, desperate, “please can I,” he licked his lips and placed a hand over his throbbing member, shuddering, “Gi-hun—“
Smiling, Gi-hun took one last drag of his cigarette before carefully putting it out in the ashtray. That was all the invitation that Sang-woo needed.
Stumbling, he got to his feet and practically tackled Gi-hun to the bed. He kissed his way from Gi-hun's neck to his lips, his hips rolling forward until his clothed cock slid next to Gi-hun's own.
“Sang-woo-ya,” Gi-hun sighed, his breath smoky and sweet, “ah, ah!” he wrapped his arms around Sang-woo's neck and pulled him closer, “ah, ah!”
“You knew,” Sang-woo moaned into Gi-hun's mouth, sucking on the other man's tongue, desperate for more, “you knew what you were doing, you,” he babbled, “hyung,” he let out a long whine, “let me—“
With a groan, Sang-woo ripped the tank top in half.
“Hey!” Gi-hun laughed, indignant, “you don't have to,” he threw his head back and moaned when Sang-woo rolled his nipples between his fingers, “you didn't—that cost money you know...”
“You can afford it,” Sang-woo murmured, kissing down Gi-hun's jaw, down his neck, “or I can buy you more, if you want,” he licked over one of Gi-hun's nipples, “don't worry about it.”
“Well just,” Gi-hun whined when Sang-woo sucked on a nipple, his other hand gently flicking the other one, “try-try not to ri-rip the briefs,” he breathed out, cheeks and ears flushed red, “I-I like them.”
Sang-woo didn't say anything. He just continued licking at Gi-hun's nipple, his pants uncomfortably tight around his cock but he couldn't move just yet. He needed to feel Gi-hun. Needed to touch him, to own him to leave his mark everywhere.
“Ah!” Gi-hun gripped his hair, hissing as Sang-woo opened his mouth wide and bit down, “No-no marks!” he stuttered, “you know I can't-” his voice trailed off, “you-you know—“
“Liar,” Sang-woo kissed across Gi-hun's chest, sucking on the other nipple, hips still rolling forward, “your viewers love seeing you covered in my marks...”
It was true. At the start of their relationship, Gi-hun was very adamant about Sang-woo not leaving any bite marks or hickeys, thinking his viewers wouldn't like it.
Sang-woo just couldn't help himself sometimes. He had to make up for the decades he spent pining after Gi-hun, for the decades he wasted sitting on the sidelines. Sang-woo was not going to let Gi-hun's viewers get in the way of what he wanted.
However, it turned out that Gi-hun's fans LOVED seeing him covered in Sang-woo's marks. They loved it when his neck was painted in reds and purples. The chat went absolutely crazy whenever they spotted bruises on Gi-hun's hips and ass. Often, Gi-hun's viewers would beg him to make a video with his boyfriend, offering ridiculous amounts of money.
“Oh, oh,” Gi-hun wrapped his legs around Sang-woo and pulled him even closer, “please, please,” he rolled his hips up, “please, please, please!”
Nodding, Sang-woo scrambled to his knees and took off his shirt, tossing it to the side. With a hiss, he slid his pants and underwear off, moaning in relief. Licking his lips, Sang-woo slowly took off Gi-hun's briefs slowly, savoring the slide of the fabric on Gi-hun's skin.
It wasn't until Sang-woo threw the briefs behind him that he noticed something between Gi-hun's ass cheeks.
“Is that—“ he blinked, “Gi-hun, were you wearing-all this time, where you-?”
Gi-hun laughed and opened his legs, showing Sang-woo the butt plug, “I figured it be easier,” he smirked, “what do you think,” Gi-hun rolled over and braced himself on his hands and knees, “You just-”
Sang-woo didn't even let him finish. He immediately got back onto the bed and spat in his hand. He rubbed his hand over his cock and pulled the plug out of Gi-hun's hole, eyeglasses nearly falling off his face and sweat coating his back.
Grunting, Sang-woo gripped Gi-hun's hip with one hand and carefully sunk his cock into Gi-hun's hole.
“Ah!” Gi-hun bowed his head and cried out, “Sang-woo, Sang-woo,” he chanted, “please, please!”
Sang-woo didn't waste anytime. He immediately set a fast and hard pace, too worked up, too close already to go any slower. Gi-hun didn't seem to mind.
“More!” Gi-hun wailed, voice warbling, “Sang-woo, Sang-woo, Sang-woo!” Gi-hun almost collapsed on the bed, his whole body shaking, “please, I can't—“ he whined, “I can't—“
“You're so easy for me,” Sang-woo growled, “you know what you do to me, you know,” he gripped Gi-hun's waist tighter, his fingers biting into the soft skin, “...maybe we should make a video...”
Gi-hun's breath hitched and he tightened around Sang-woo's cock almost painfully.
“Oh?” Sang-woo chuckled and leaned down, licking the shell of Gi-hun's ear, “you want your fans to see you getting fucked?” Gi-hun whimpered but didn't say anything, “you do, don't you?”
“I-uh, ah, ah!” Gi-hun couldn't even speak, “No, I don't—I don't,” drool dripped from his chin, “ah, Sang-woo-ya—“
“Don't lie to me,” Sang-woo bit the back of Gi-hun's neck, moaning at the taste of salt and smoke that burst on his tongue, “you like it,” he panted, “you want them,” Sang-woo grunted, “you want them to see you like this?” he was so close, so, so close, “don't you?”
He sucked on Gi-hun's neck, determined to leave as many marks as he possibly could.
“No, I-” Gi-hun tried t deny it, “ah, ah!” he threw his head back, nearly slamming it into Sang-woo's face, “uh, uh, please, please!”
Sang-woo could feel Gi-hun trembling; could feel how close Gi-hun was. He slipped a hand down and grasped Gi-hun's cock, squeezing it.
“Ah!” Gi-hun collapsed forward and buried his head on a pillow, his cries getting louder and louder, “Sang-woo-ya!”
Whining, Sang-woo fucked Gi-hun deeper, harder, his hand stroking Gi-hun's cock until finally, Gi-hun let out a warbled sob and came all over Sang-woo's hand.
“Hyung!” groaning, Sang-woo drove his hips forward once, twice more before he came deep inside Gi-hun, his fingers bruising Gi-hun's waist. Gi-hun moaned and his body shuddered underneath Sang-woo.
Sang-woo stayed still for a moment, savoring how Gi-hun felt, savoring every twitch and satisfied hum that slipped out of Gi-hun.
Eventually, Sang-woo carefully pulled out and collapsed next to Gi-hun. Sighing, he wrapped his arms around the other man, kissing and licking at the marks that littered Gi-hun's neck.
After a moment, Sang-woo sighed and kissed Gi-hun's hair.
“I actually don't you know.”
“Mhmm?” Gi-hun looked up to him, eyes wet and hazy, a lazy grin on his lips, “don't want?”
“You know,” Sang-woo winced and squirmed, blushing, “actually make a video.”
Gi-hun blinked at him and then laughed. He shook his head and kissed the tip of Sang-woo's nose, his breath smoky.
“Don't worry,” he chuckled, “I don't think it be a good idea if we made a video anyways,” he kissed Sang-woo's lips, “you'll probably steal my fans and then what will I do? I'll have to get an actual job and you'll have to take over mine!”
Sang-woo rolled his eyes, “Don't be ridiculous hyung,” he murmured, stretching. He sat up but before he could try and get out of the bed, Gi-hun pulled him back down, and laid his head on Sang-woo's chest, snuffling.
“Gi-hun,” Sang-woo tried to pry him off but Gi-hun just held on tighter, “come one, we're both dirty. We need to clean up.”
“Five more minutes,” Gi-hun muttered, rubbing his head against Sang-woo shoulder, “just five more minutes.”
Clicking his tongue, Sang-woo laid his head back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. It was probably going to be longer than five minutes. Gi-hun was probably going to fall asleep and then Sang-woo would fall asleep and they would both wake up a couple of hours later, sore and sticky and wishing they'd shower right after.
With a sigh, Sang-woo wrapped embraced Gi-hun, his eyes already slipping shut. They could always shower later. Right now, Sang-woo just wanted to be close with Gi-hun; just wanted to be close to the man he loved.
And maybe later, Gi-hun and him could smoke a cigarette together.