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The news of Jeon Wonwoo’s arrival made headlines.
[Breaking] “The illegitimate son of Jeon In-ho returns”
Wonwoo tries not to show his disappointment over the news of his return. Instead of focusing on his achievements, the media turns a blind eye on them, burying them with an irrelevant fact about him—being the youngest son of the wealthiest businessman in the country, an illegitimate son who was exiled abroad as he posed a threat to his greedy older brothers. Jeon In-ho’s father, Wonwoo’s paternal grandfather, took him in when his mother remarried and had a family of her own, dressed him, fed him, and sent him to school. He was never treated by his paternal grandfather as an outsider. He was showered with love and adoration, unlike his older half-brothers who were taught by their mother to demolish everyone who comes in their way, even if they are family. Well, Wonwoo was never a family in their eyes in the first place. He was an enemy—someone who shouldn’t have been graced with the gift of life. He was ostracized by the very people who he shares the same blood with.
As an illegitimate son, Wonwoo has no fighting chance. So when he was told by his father’s wife to move abroad and attend a boarding school after his grandfather’s untimely passing, he took it as an opportunity. He let his despair lit the miniscule hope remaining in his system. It ignited, a small match fire at first, until it turned into a bonfire. He was the bonfire and like-minded people surrounded him, putting trust in his progressive ideas. The bonfire transformed into a fire so fiery, red, and burning—it could destroy a thousand homes.
Wonwoo may have condemned his father’s silence, but it wasn’t in his plan to commit arson.
Wonwoo didn’t let his inferno cause a catastrophe. He contained it within himself. The flames burning inside of him was not created to destroy—it was meant to spread warmth, to envelope someone with his love.
“Why did you come back?” Soohyuk asks, gritting his teeth in fury, demanding an immediate reply, as he slams his fist on the antique wooden table in their late grandfather’s office. “If you’re planning to take over the family business, I am telling you, we will not allow you. There is no place for you in this family. Father will not allow his bastard son to taint the long history of Jeons.” Soohyuk stares at him with utter disgust.
“Don’t worry, brother.” Wonwoo replies calmly, putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder, as if mocking his eldest brother. “I am not planning anything behind your back. There is no reason for me to covet something that was never mine in the first place.”
Seungcheol, the second son, lightly pushes him, intimidating him like what they did when he was younger. But he is not the five year old Wonwoo who always hid and cried behind their grandfather’s legs whenever his older brothers played a prank on him. Now, Wonwoo can face them head on. “I’m trusting that you are a man of your words, little brother.”
But promises were meant to be broken.
The moment Wonwoo laid his eyes on Kwon Soonyoung, his strong resolve weakened, until it dissolved into ashes—tiny particles flowing along with the wind, going so far away, he would never be able to reach them.
He found a new resolve.
He wanted Kwon Soonyoung.
For the first time in his life, he wanted to go against the wishes of his father’s family.
He knew very well that his selfish desire to make Kwon Soonyoung his would spark a war between the three of them—him, Soohyuk, and Seungcheol. When he came back to South Korea, all he wanted to do was remove his name from the family book, sever his ties from this dysfunctional family of his, and live a life away from them—in peace. He never wanted to take part in their business. All he wants to do is focus on what is in front of him—an investment company he founded while he was in university.
But what is he ought to do when the only way he can make Soonyoung his is to make their family business fall into his hands? In the end, Kwon Soonyoung is set to marry whoever will inherit their family business.
“I heard you talking to your mom, Kwon Soonyoung.”
He notices the worry in Soonyoung’s dazzling set of orbs, his eyes having semblance with the stars that twinkled that night from a distance. “You never wanted this, did you? Forget my brothers—focus on me instead. I can give you what you want.”
Soonyoung scoffs, looking at him from head to toe with obvious repulsion. “You may think of me as nothing but a trophy to be possessed, but I am an accomplished person myself, Jeon Wonwoo.” Does everyone think of you like that?
Wonwoo’s lips form a faint smile as he closes the distance between them. “Oh, I know, Soonyoung.” He holds Soonyoung’s hands, brushing his delicate fingers with his thumb, staring at them with immense fascination. “I know what these beautiful hands can do, Kwon Soonyoung.” He brings Soonyoung’s right hand closer to his lips, pressing a soft kiss before Soonyoung pulls his hand away from his gentle grip, hiding it behind his back.
Soonyoung is a talented artist. But despite his accomplishments, his parents have never acknowledged the value of his works. He was told to keep it as a hobby until he is married off to the Jeons. “Just tell me what you want, Soonyoung.”
“Give me something I don’t have yet, Wonwoo.”
Wonwoo caresses Soonyoung’s cheeks with the back of his palm, so alarmingly close that his breath ghosts over Soonyoung’s smooth skin. He leans forward, lips almost touching Soonyoung’s sensitive ears. “You don’t have me… yet.”
Soonyoung pushes him away, seemingly hyper aware of his presence. “You think so highly of yourself, Jeon Wonwoo.” Wonwoo’s humility slips away at the sight of Soonyoung—he would never catch Soonyoung’s attention if he remains timid. “I would never desire to covet you.”
“But only I can give you your heart’s one true desire, Soonyoung.” He points at Soonyoung’s chest, his index finger languidly sliding down to its valley, hoping his action is sending ripples of pleasure to Soonyoung. “I can give you freedom, Soonyoung.” Wonwoo is aware of Soonyoung’s weakness. And while his means do not necessarily reflect his real intentions—it was actually love at first sight—he knows this is the best way to convince someone head strong like Soonyoung.
“How? Pray tell your brothers won’t allow you to dip your fingers in your family’s business.”
He scoffs, giving a slight sardonic grunt. “You belittle me, Soonyoung. I can do whatever it is, whatever it takes for me to have you.” There is no bridge difficult to cross if it means Soonyoung is waiting for him on the other side.
“If you can free me, Wonwoo, then you can have me. You can have all of me, but please,” Soonyoung tells him, sounding like he’s pleading. “Don’t take my art away from me.”
“I promise.”
Soonyoung grabs his hand and pulls him away, never looking back at the grandiose party they left behind—businessmen chitchatting, lies after lies, full of pretense. “Where are you taking me?” Soonyoung looks back at him and shushes him. “They’ll be looking for us.” Soonyoung slows down as they make their way to the stairs.
Soonyoung stops when they reach the end of the corridor and opens the door to a room. Wonwoo thinks it’s Soonyoung’s workroom—the faint smell of paint and oil waft in the air, clogging his nose. “They’re too preoccupied with the party downstairs to even notice we were gone.” Soonyoung shuts the door close and pins him against the door.
“What are you doing, Soonyoung?”
Soonyoung raises a brow at him. “Downpayment, Jeon. This is my down payment.” And the next thing he knows, Soonyoung has captured his lips, hands roaming across his torso, unbuttoning his dress shirt, pressing sensual touches against his toned body. Wonwoo reciprocates the kiss and the hot touches, but Soonyoung pulls away before Wonwoo could fully satiate his lingering desire. “That’s for next time, Wonwoo.” Soonyoung is absolutely hell-bent on teasing him—Wonwoo notices the naughty glint in his eyes. So different from the uptight Soonyoung he confronted in their massive living room. “Show me results and I’ll reward you with something even better.”
“Better…?” Wonwoo is not dense—he knows what Soonyoung is trying to say. He just wants it coming straight out of his mouth—lips so sinful it gave Wonwoo a pleasurable surprise. Soonyoung was raised to be presentable, to be wanted, a sophisticated noble up for grabs, a trophy to be won, to be displayed. “Enlighten me, Soonyoung.” Someone with an upbringing like Soonyoung shouldn’t have kissed a mistake like him.
But Soonyoung did.
“Me,” Soonyoung starts playing with his necktie, twirling it around his fingers. Soonyoung pulls it slightly, his face now dangerously close to Soonyoung’s. “On your bed,” Wonwoo gulps the lump in his throat, feeling the palpable sexual tension between them, especially now that Soonyoung’s drawing circles on his chest. Wonwoo sucks in his breath, wisps of white cloud dim his mind. “Have you imagined what you’d do to me, Wonwoo?”
Wonwoo tries to brave the adversity he is currently facing. It is a rather difficult battle, his mind fighting the urge to act upon his raging libido. “The question, Soonyoung,” Soonyoung is looking at him straight in the eyes, sultry gazes locked against his. “—should be,”
“Should be what, Wonwoo?”
“Would you be able to handle all the things I’d do to you?”
“When you offered freedom, Wonwoo, I was prepared to accept everything. I am a slave to freedom, you see.”
“As I am to you, Soonyoung. I am your most loyal servant.” When he heard Soonyoung and his mom’s exchange, Wonwoo was determined to get him out of this fiasco. He will be Soonyoung’s salvation. “Which means… you don’t have to pay me back.”
“There’s no such thing as free lunch, Wonwoo. I learned that from Econ. I am paying you, in a way only I can, because I want this to be a mutually beneficial agreement.”
“You don’t seem like it, but you know how to talk business, Kwon.” Soonyoung is so much more than what his parents make him out to be—he’s not just a prize to be won. He is a smart and calculative man. And Wonwoo likes a capable partner.
“Well,” Soonyoung shrugs nonchalantly and smirks. “Like you, I was raised by businessmen.”
“I look forward to working with you then, Kwon Soonyoung.”
-
Wonwoo enters his unit, removing his oxford shoes and lining them up neatly on the shoe rack by the entryway. The click of the knob should have alerted Soonyoung of his presence, but he is devoid of expectations. He does not look forward to Soonyoung running towards the hallway to welcome him back home.
No, no. He doesn’t.
Lies.
He does.
But Wonwoo also understands that their relationship is born out of mutualism—one where they both give and receive. And Wonwoo is not just offering him help, Wonwoo offers himself, his entirety. And maybe, Hao is right. Maybe Wonwoo is really giving so much more than what Soonyoung is paying him back. But he doesn’t mind—he wanted this. So much, that he is ready to drop everything in his hands and run to Soonyoung’s aid.
This is the price he has to pay for acting upon his ravenous desire.
Wonwoo is Soonyoung’s salvation, but Soonyoung is his eternal damnation.
He tilts his head to the side confusedly when the view of his empty couch enters his line of vision. Didn’t Soonyoung say he is exhausted after his art exhibit that went on for hours? Soonyoung did tell him over chat about how he was forced to entertain quite a number of proud housewives of wealthy tycoon who have so much money to spend on this lucrative hobby of collecting paintings. It was quite a disappointment on Wonwoo’s part. After all, he was expecting Soonyoung to be lying on his couch, resting to replenish his depleted energy, cocooned in the softness and warmth of the pristine white blanket as he watches a series on the massive television in his living room, obsessing over the main male lead in his recent favorite Netflix series.
He loves watching how Soonyoung’s long lashes kiss his cheeks ever so delicately when his eyes flutter. He loves how Soonyoung looks so peaceful, so laid back in his presence, tossing and turning around as he mumbles words while he’s deep asleep after their rigorous, but enjoyable coital physical activity, probably dreaming. Soonyoung hasn’t dreamt in a long while, but surprisingly, he dreams whenever he sleeps at Wonwoo’s place. At least, that was what he told Wonwoo in passing. But while Wonwoo likes those little things about Soonyoung, Wonwoo falls onto his knees, prays, and worships Soonyoung in his raw state—all bare for him to devour.
The rustling of papers rouses Wonwoo from his stupor. He swifty snaps his head to the direction where the sound came from. It is a sight he has always craved to see, has been seeing for consecutive nights, but no matter how many times he has seen Soonyoung in this state, he will never be truly prepared to witness this divinity.
Soonyoung’s back is facing him—the gorgeous man is naked from the waist up, wearing gray sweatpants that seem too big for him. Upon taking a closer look, as he bridges the gap between them, Wonwoo confirms that the article of clothing is his. He doesn’t mind if Soonyoung borrows his belongings without asking. When Soonyoung accepted his proposed partnership, whatever Wonwoo owns under his name, he would willingly confer half of them to Soonyoung—no reservations.
He lets Soonyoung continue what he’s doing, but doesn’t stop himself from placing a chaste kiss on Soonyoung’s exposed shoulder, skin so soft and tender, as if it will bruise so easily even with a gentle touch. And his scent, god, his heavenly scent reminds him of a sweet caramel—his innate eros embraced by a layer of maiden innocence.
He notices how Soonyoung jolts at the lightest touch. Still, Soonyoung pays him no mind. And as if deliberately ignoring his presence, Soonyoung continues to read the words printed on the paper while Wonwoo places his hand on Soonyoung’s arm, palm gliding down with surgical dexterity, revering such lush skin, until they reach his folded elbows. Wonwoo peppers Soonyoung’s shoulder with kisses, making sure no part is left untouched. His hands settle on both sides of Soonyoung’s slender waist, memorizing the curves that nobody can caress but him. Exclusivity is something Soonyoung granted to him and him only.
It was part of the deal.
Wonwoo sees Soonyoung stealing a glance at him from the floor-to-ceiling glass window, only shaking his head, releasing a deep sigh.
With each passing second, Wonwoo gets more intoxicated by Soonyoung’s addictive scent, lips traveling from the expanse of his shoulder to the juncture, mapping out the column of Soonyoung’s long and slender neck with his lips, smothering it with demonically passionate kisses. Soonyoung finally turns to face him, staring at him with owlish eyes, knitting his brows together. Wonwoo only leans forward, planting a kiss on Soonyoung’s clavicle, nipping at his fair and unblemished skin in between the kisses. Wonwoo feels two of Soonyoung’s fingers on his chin, setting his head at an angle where their gazes would inevitably meet.
“What’s with you?” Soonyoung asks, putting the papers in his left hand down on Wonwoo’s mahogany worktable. “You haven’t even changed your clothes yet.” Soonyoung’s left hand snakes around his nape, playing with the collar of his suit. “Have I not fed you enough last night, Wonwoo?”
He halts, taking a step back to have a clear look at Soonyoung. Soonyoung’s hand falls to the side and a smirk forms on Wonwoo’s thin lips before he answers with a: “Never enough, darling.” A chuckle erupts from Soonyoung, slapping Wonwoo’s chest gingerly.
Soonyoung’s laughter fades as he begins to examine his facial expression. “Your eyes, Wonwoo.” What’s wrong with his eyes? “You look so ready to ravage me.” Wonwoo peers over Soonyoung’s shoulder and studies his face at the glass window in front of him, getting a momentary realization of what Soonyoung meant by his words. Frightening, bottomless hunger. Like a predator eyeing a pitiful prey. Wonwoo looks away, worried that he’s scaring Soonyoung with his state of feral gluttony. But Wonwoo’s worries vanish into thin air when Soonyoung places both of his hands on his jaw, forcing Wonwoo to make eye contact with Soonyoung. “I’m not scared of you, Wonwoo.”
Wonwoo almost trips and tumbles when Soonyoung takes a bold step forward towards him, daunting him—his immediate reaction is to take a step back, a cold shiver running down his spine as a menacing smirk creeps on Soonyoung’s sultry lips. He tries to reach for something to hold on, but his hand is met with nothing but unusually thick and humid air, uncommon in the middle of December winter. “Seems like you’re the one scared of me, Wonwoo.”
The comment creates a huge dent in Wonwoo’s ego, but Wonwoo is well-aware that Soonyoung is purposely riling him up. Soonyoung acts with intention and Wonwoo knows what Soonyoung is up to, knows that when Soonyoung is proactive like this, their night would be long and steamy. And Wonwoo is an obedient creature who faithfully abides the law of sexual attraction. He will take action to fulfill his unrelentless need. His older brothers may be fuming in anger at this very moment, now that he has made his intentions clear during the press conference earlier today, but he does not give a flying fuck. He has always yielded for them, accepting his defeat even before the brawl starts.
It is time, Wonwoo thinks, to claim what is his.
He moves forward, Soonyoung taking a step back this time, caging Soonyoung’s lithe body between him and the worktable behind him. Soonyoung looks up to him, a seductive gaze, biting his lower lip all the while tugging at his wine red necktie. It’s the necktie that Soonyoung gifted him—what he said symbolizes the beginning of their partnership. A tie that binds them together. It easily became Wonwoo’s favorite.
Wonwoo lowers himself gently on Soonyoung with each tug. Soonyoung captures his lips with a saccharine kiss, so thrilling, Wonwoo feels like he’s being consumed. Just when Wonwoo feels heat pooling in his stomach, Soonyoung retreats, a string of saliva connecting their swollen lips. The smaller playfully grins, wiping the moist on his bottom lip with his thumb. “I know you want more, Wonwoo.”
It’s an innocuous statement, but Wonwoo takes offense.
Wonwoo growls achingly, losing his mind with Soonyoung’s continuous teasing. “Let’s remove your eyeglasses first. Hmm?” Before he could part his lips to speak, Soonyoung places his fingertip on the topbar of Wonwoo’s prescription glasses, pushing it past the bridge of his nose before completely discarding it, tossing it skillfully on the couch behind Wonwoo. It landed safely, much to Wonwoo’s relief. “Don’t worry. They’re safe.” He hears Soonyoung say before he feels his fingers raking through his hair, giving it a yank to the side, exposing his neck. Soonyoung licks a stripe on the column of his neck before biting his skin, teeth digging through his flesh. It will leave a mark for sure, but Wonwoo doesn’t care. Soonyoung can put a stamp on him as his property because Wonwoo is Soonyoung’s from the moment they’ve both acceded to this agreement.
Wonwoo lets out a guttural moan at the tingling sensation, snaking his hand around Soonyoung’s lean waist—his left hand playing with the waistband of Soonyoung’s sweatpants. Soonyoung slaps his left hand with his free hand, clicking his tongue, as if disapproving of his act, before quickly detaching himself from Wonwoo. The sudden lack of touch makes Wonwoo hungry for more. “This is getting in the way.” Soonyoung utters, grabbing the lapel of the suit he’s wearing, trying to get it off of him. Soonyoung’s first attempt is an abysmal failure so Wonwoo tries to make it easier for Soonyoung to strip him off of his tailor-made coat, squirming his arms out of each of its sleeves. It falls to the ground—Soonyoung kicks it away and Wonwoo couldn’t care less, to be honest.
“What broad shoulders you have,” The way those words roll out of Soonyoung’s tongue is sending Wonwoo to oblivion. Soonyoung has never pointed it out. When he looks at the glass window behind Soonyoung, his reflection reminds him of a famished beast. Soonyoung’s palms rest on his chest, moaning so wantonly as he feels his clothed body against his bare hands. “Wonwoo, oh god.”
“I want you, Wonwoo.”
It only takes one simple sentence for Wonwoo to finally take action to fulfill his selfish needs.
Wonwoo places his hand on Soonyoung’s waist and lifts him up recklessly, sitting him down on his messy mahogany worktable. They didn’t mind the loud thud as Soonyoung’s weight pressed down on the table. They only stare at each other for a second before Wonwoo’s gaze travels down to Soonyoung’s nose down to his philtrum and lips, Wonwoo hastily latching his lips against Soonyoung’s rosy ones—Soonyoung hooks his hands around his neck pulling him a bit closer for more leverage. Wonwoo plays with Soonyoung’s hardened nubs and Soonyoung moans into the kiss, sending vibration to Wonwoo’s body.
It feels rather comforting to hear Soonyoung’s desperate little cries fill the silence in Wonwoo’s penthouse. The quiet of that night is replaced by Soonyoung’s pleased and contented melodious hums, ringing in his ears like music on repeat. When Wonwoo pulls away to let themselves catch their breath, panting and breathing ruggedly, Soonyoung immediately latches onto him, loosening his tie and hurriedly unfastening the buttons of his now wrinkled white dress shirt. Wonwoo allows him to do all the work, bending down a little to reach for Soonyoung’s sensitive ear to whisper the words: Fuck, I’m so hard right now, Soonyoung. You don’t know what you’re doing to me, Kwon. You’re driving me insane.
After letting Soonyoung’s hands wander around his upper body, clawing on his back, Wonwoo then holds Soonyoung’s right hand and sets it right above his clothed manhood, letting him palm it, releasing a low groan that seems to have motivated Soonyoung to pleasure him even more, even better—squeezing his clothed cock, rubbing it through the constricting fabric of his pants.
Wonwoo reciprocates Soonyoung’s good deed by rubbing Soonyoung’s inner thighs sensually, his other hand going behind, sliding down the waistband of his sweatpants and into Soonyoung’s lingerie, gently stroking his plump ass, occasionally giving them a light squeeze.
It’s good that both of them are down to setting the mood first instead of going at it right away. It’s something they have both talked about before their first sex—that if they both want to make this work, it has to be enjoyable for the two of them.
It is a fair request.
“My brothers would surely die of jealousy if they know you’re writhing in pleasure because of me.” It’s one thing to know of his plans to join their game of succession, but it’s probably going to break them once they know of his and Soonyoung’s nightly escapades—that while his older brothers are both working their asses off to inherit the business and ultimately one of them be declared as Soonyoung’s fiancé, unbeknownst to them, Soonyoung is joining hands with him to take them both down and crush them. And it’s more than just mere cooperation too. It’s a union of their bodies, a sexual connection that only Soonyoung and Wonwoo share.
“How will I know you’re not like your brothers? You may think of them as just mere strangers, but the same blood runs in all of you. How can I trust that I am more than just a trophy for you… Jeon?” Wonwoo withdraws his hands, Soonyoung does the same—the small space between them seems so big, so distant, so far away; like Wonwoo is separated from Soonyoung by an invisible force, impenetrable. Soonyoung still has his guard up, but Wonwoo sees this as a chance to prove himself rather than a misfortune.
He holds Soonyoung’s hands, dallying with his fingers before trailing them with tender kisses. He feels Soonyoung tensing up with each touch. “Every touch and kiss we do, it means the world to me. I’ve never wanted,” Wonwoo inadvertently pauses, shaking his head. “No, let me rephrase that, Soonyoung. Needed. I’ve never needed someone in my life until you happened. Trust me when I say that I am yours, Soonyoung. You’ll have your freedom.” Wonwoo doesn’t know how much more he’ll have to do to earn Soonyoung’s trust, but he’s doing everything he can—no holds barred. “And if after attaining freedom, you think I still have a purpose in your life—someone you can use to achieve far greater things, I am still here. You’ll have me. All of me, Soonyoung.”
Soonyoung only nods at his words, as if convinced, then proceeds to take two of his fingers in his mouth, swirling his tongue around them all the while looking at him with the most suggestive and alluring gaze, sucking so skillfully, fluffy cheeks getting hollow as continues to suck. Wonwoo gulps the lump in his throat and feels the growing tent in his crotch. “I can’t wait any longer, Soonyoung. I want to have you.”
Soonyoung pulls his fingers out, wet and sloppy, and Wonwoo almost lets out a whimper at the loss of touch. “You can have me.”
He looks at Soonyoung with the most intense gaze. “Now, Soonyoung. I want to have you now.”
“Then by all means, Wonwoo. Have me as much as you want.”
Wonwoo wastes no time and helps Soonyoung get rid of his sweatpants. The remaining article of clothing Soonyoung has is his racy undergarment, barely covering what needs to be covered. He flips Soonyoung’s body, his slim and graceful body bent in half on the worktable, torso laying flat on the cold expanse. Soonyoung shrieks, seemingly surprised by the abruptness of his movement. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
Soonyoung turns his head to look at him, shaking his head. “No, no. Please continue. I like it when you’re rough, Wonwoo.” He bites his lower lip in such a tempting manner that never goes unnoticed, a cheeky expression on his face. “It makes me feel so alive. Be selfish, Wonwoo. For me?”
Wonwoo kneels, almost like he’s praying, bearing a semblance to a religious devotee, and then completely undressing Soonyoung, hooking his fingers on the waistband and peeling off his risqué underwear, throwing it away to who knows where. Wonwoo ponders with the thought of biting Soonyoung’s round and bouncy ass and as if hypnotized by Soonyoung’s bare and delectable body in front of him, Wonwoo gives in to his desire and squeezes Soonyoung’s cheeks using both of his hands, parting them to get a full view of his pinkish hole. It is when he brushes his nose against Soonyoung’s soft ass cheeks and then in between them, the sweetest scent of Soonyoung’s silky smooth skin driving him insane, and inhales that he hears Soonyoung’s little whimper followed by a restrained cry of Wonwoo’s name. Wonwoo, fuck. Wonwoo, ahh—please, Wonwoo. Do me, do more. He feels Soonyoung’s hip jolts here and there when he starts giving his rim kitten licks, teasing.
Wonwoo stands up, crotch pressed against Soonyoung’s bum. He humps his clothed member against Soonyoung’s rear, their increasingly loud and unrestrained moans echoing in the silent night. He circles his hand on Soonyoung’s cock, pumping slowly, brushing his thumb, applying pressure against Soonyoung’s wet slit every time his hand reaches the tip. “Ah—ah, Wonwoo. Fuck. Fuck. Wonwoo, ahh. Please, please.” The person whose body he imagines in reverie is begging before him? Pleading? “Faster. Please, Wonwoo.”
“Anything for you, my dear.” Wonwoo says, emphasizing the last word greatly. He picks up his pace while still dry humping against Soonyoung’s backside. The pre-cum dripping from Soonyoung’s slit puts a wicked smile on his face. Soonyoung turns his head, extends his left arm, hand on his nape pulling him closer and kisses him gingerly. Wonwoo closes his eyes, darkness caving in, but amidst the dark, it’s amusing how he can still picture the sight of Soonyoung. I’ve closed my eyes and you’re still all I can see.
Wonwoo slowly opens his eyes when Soonyoung pulls away, looking back at his reflection through the glass window, swaying his hips against Wonwoo’s clothed cock. His hand, still circled around Soonyoung’s cock, continues sliding up and down, faster like how Soonyoung begged him. And when Soonyoung screams his name and shakes, Wonwoo knows what’s coming next. The pretty man shoots his load. And just when Wonwoo thinks Soonyoung is done, thinking he’s all dried up from all the cum he released, Soonyoung trembles so badly as his slit leaks more cum. “It’s only been a day, Soonyoung.” Soonyoung is turning him on, so much.
Who would imagine that Kwon Soonyoung, who was taught table etiquette and manners; who was trained to be prim and proper, is the very antithesis of modesty?
Soonyoung must have been feeling really impatient. The absence of hands roaming around his body must have made him feel frustrated, so frustrated that he took matters to his own hands. He lifts his body up, away from the table—this time, he is the one who kneels. Wonwoo thinks he must be dreaming—the person who he praised and worshiped like a deity is kneeling in front of him, sparkling set of eyes is looking up to him, never breaking eye contact. Soonyoung slaps his hands away from the button of his pants and growls hungrily, desperately. He quickly unfastens it, pulling Wonwoo’s pants down, pooling around his ankles, but never the skin-tight boxer briefs Wonwoo is wearing. Wonwoo steps out of it as Soonyoung continuously presses the obvious wet spot on his boxers with his fingers and Wonwoo half-moans, feeling a strange pit in his stomach when Soonyoung applied force exactly on the head of his hardened cock. “Fuck, Soonyoung. You’re making me crazy.”
Those words coming from Wonwoo are nothing short of a compliment because, really, no one had ever made him feel that way before. Only Soonyoung. And Soonyoung probably took it that way, too, because he moves eagerly, face now right in front of Wonwoo’s crotch. He starts licking a stripe over the spandex as he begins to insert his hand through the leg holes, simultaneously playing with Wonwoo’s balls all the while teasing his cock.
Wonwoo chants his name like a prayer, fingers combing through Soonyoung’s raven black hair, slightly pulling to get a sound out of Soonyoung’s lustful lips—he mewls. Soonyoung, Soonyoung, Soonyoung. So, so… good. So good for me. It seemingly excites and motivates Soonyoung even more, purring like an animal in heat at his words. And Wonwoo feels utterly embarrassed for going almost insane just by what Soonyoung is doing. He’s not even doing those erotic gestures directly to his shaft. There’s a mantle of protection , a hindrance in between Soonyoung’s tongue and his cock. Soonyoung licks for the last time, unblinking and dreamy eyes staring back at him, and Wonwoo couldn’t hold it in anymore, growling loudly as he releases. “Soonyoung! Fuck! Fuck!” He cums so much that the white viscous liquid seeps through the fabric of his tight boxers, dirtying Soonyoung’s divine face.
Wonwoo looks at his reflection—this is the face he makes as Soonyoung lets him experience pleasure. His deep set of dark brown eyes gives off an honest, yet very perilous gaze. “Fuck! Ugh, Soonyoung.” He hisses as Soonyoung skilfully fondles and playfully squeezes his balls, as if trying to get back his attention, and after he does, Soonyoung swipes the cum that permeated through his boxers with his index finger, tongue quietly lapping the cum before putting his finger in his mouth, sucking, cheeks hollowing as Soonyoung gives it a delightful taste. He pulls his finger out, producing a loud popping sound that fills the vast area of his penthouse.
Soonyoung carefully pulls his boxer down, the tip of his cock hitting Soonyoung’s nose as it finally breaks free from the constricting fabric. Wonwoo helps Soonyoung remove the boxer to quicken up their pace. They have been going at it excruciatingly slow contrary to the devilish hunger that is devouring their very core. Wonwoo sees Soonyoung licking his upper lip as if readying himself to take in his cock. “Whatever you’re planning, that can wait, Soonyoung.” So Wonwoo squats to reach Soonyoung’s level, hands placed on Soonyoung’s underarm, pulling him up with him, helping him stand, but Wonwoo notices how weak and wobbly Soonyoung’s legs have gotten.
He doesn’t know if it’s because the artist is too tired from the exhibit earlier or if it’s because he’s too aroused just from their foreplay. “Your hands. Around me. Do it, Soonyoung.” With this, Wonwoo observes how Soonyoung immediately stands on tiptoes, arms hooking around his neck, chin resting on Wonwoo’s broad shoulder. “I’ll lift you up in three, two,” The young businessman trusts that Soonyoung knows what to do next. “…one.” Soonyoung jumps as Wonwoo counts down to one and coils his legs around Wonwoo’s waist. They both moan at the sensation—Soonyoung’s cock on Wonwoo’s abdomen, the remaining cum on its slit spreading on Wonwoo’s skin.
“Wonwoo, your cock, in me, please.”
“I need to pre—”
“I did it. Earlier. I actually prepared myself earlier. No condom, too, please.” Before they had their first sex, the two made it a point to get checked. And thankfully enough, there were no problems.
“Tell me what you did.” Soonyoung was only playing coy earlier. Deep down his very core, he wanted to be devoured.
Wonwoo feels the movement of Soonyoung’s head on his shoulder, refusing Wonwoo’s orders. Soonyoung hides his face on the crook of his neck, tightening his grip on Wonwoo. “It’s embarrassing.” Wonwoo almost let out a chuckle. He has seen Soonyoung in his most vulnerable state—naked under him, writhing in heavenly pleasure. What more could embarrass a reputable person like Soonyoung? “So please, just fuck me. Use me as you will.”
But Wonwoo’s unmoving and it leads to Soonyoung finally giving in. “I—I had three fingers up my ass,” Wonwoo encourages him to go on, asking him: What else? Did you use a lubricant? A dildo? “I did, Wonwoo. I did. But I can’t—yours are better. Your fingers and your cock.” Wonwoo couldn’t believe how Soonyoung used his precious hands and fingers to do the most obscene things. “M-my… fingers couldn’t compare to them.”
There was something oddly satisfying about Soonyoung admitting how Wonwoo’s is better. Soonyoung didn’t say the specifics, but he understands what he meant—that Wonwoo’s long digits and veiny and girthy cock reach places Soonyoung’s slender fingers and dildo wouldn’t be able to do, fill him to the brim as if Soonyoung’s hole is made to take him in.
Wonwoo’s body heats up. “I’m going to fuck you senseless, Soonyoung. Do you like that?” Before Soonyoung could reply, he laid him down on his work table. The documents he had printed earlier this morning are in complete disarray—papers scattered all over the table, but Wonwoo doesn’t care—all he cares about is Soonyoung laying down, legs spread wide open, his hole in full display. He’s so beautiful with nothing on, hair sticking on his forehead because of his sweat, swollen lips from their passionate kisses, his reddish collarbone from the nipping he did earlier, his hardened nubs because of the cold.
Soonyoung is like a tempting feast, served on a silver platter, waiting to be devoured.
Wonwoo checks the drawer on the table for a lubricant as he teases Soonyoung’s hole with the blunt head of his cock, swirling it around his hole but never pushing in. When he finally grabs a hold of the small tube, the lubricant he had hidden there, he pops it open and puts a generous amount on his palm and spreads them on his length, mixing with his own semen, lolling his head back as he groans in pure gratification, imagining what it would have been like if he had let Soonyoung do what he wanted to do—give him the best blowjob or handjob, whatever Soonyoung was thinking of doing a while ago. It’s Soonyoung sweet little cry that rouses him up. “Touch me, please. No—fuck me, please.” It’s his first time seeing Soonyoung so desperate to be filled, so desperate to be touched.
Wonwoo stares at him, Soonyoung’s eyes are glassy, lips trembling as if muffling his sobs. He places his hands on Soonyoung’s waist, pulling him closer. He aligns his cock on Soonyoung’s enticing entrance, slowly thrusting into him. The other groans, arching his back, fingers clawing the mahogany table. Wonwoo wanted to ask if it hurts, but it’s so obvious from the way Soonyoung is acting. He doesn’t know how to ease his pain, so he does what could help Soonyoung forget about it—even if only momentarily. He leans forward, closer to Soonyoung’s flat tummy, trailing kisses, nipping the skin from his abdomen through his chest—his pained grunt replaced by a pleased hum, mouth agape, drooling, as Wonwoo’s full length penetrated Soonyoung—his insides clamping around Wonwoo’s cock is slowly making Wonwoo lose all the rationality he has left.
He doesn’t move yet, his cock nestled inside, letting Soonyoung adjust to his size. Even if Soonyoung had prepared himself while he was bathing, the dildo he used to stretch his inside was no match for Wonwoo’s massive package—Soonyoung said so himself earlier, stroking Wonwoo’s growing ego. “Please move now, Wonwoo. If you don’t, I will—”
Wonwoo smirks, letting out a breathy, mocking laughter. “You’re in no position to tell me what to do.” Oh, no. He’s not actually mocking him. He knows Soonyoung likes this, likes being talked down during sex. But of course, Wonwoo is well-aware that he still shouldn’t cross the line. “But humor me, Soonyoung. Tell me what you’ll do if I don’t move.”
“I will never give you my heart.” I was prepared, Soonyoung. You didn’t have to tell me. If I am nothing but a tool, then use me.
“Guess, I’ll have to move then?” He replies, trying to mask the pang in his heart. He pulls his cock, still leaving the head of his cock inside. He kisses the back of Soonyoung’s palm first before slamming into him—Soonyoung bounces, the top of his head almost hitting the window where the table is stationed. He repeats the movement over and over, holding Soonyoung into place by hugging his folded legs. Soonyoung makes a mess out of his work table, crumpling the documents within his reach as he pounds into him balls deep. “Fuck, your hole is clenching around me, Soonyoung.”
He sees Soonyoung caressing his abdomen, looking at him with the most provocative expression, so vixenish. “I feel you here, Wonwoo.” Fuck. Soonyoung just knows what buttons to push. “It feels so empty whenever you pull out.”
How does he do that? How can Soonyoung be so good at this game of push and pull? One second he’s telling Wonwoo how he can never have his heart and the next, he’s making Wonwoo lose his cool.
What Wonwoo does next makes Soonyoung drown in the world of excessive carnal pleasure. Wonwoo pounds in and out of him relentlessly, the sound of his work table creaking and their hot skin slapping against each other reverberates in the vast area of his penthouse. Soonyoung screams his name repeatedly, panting ruggedly in between. His brothers have never been jealous of him. After all, they always had more than what was provided for Wonwoo. They were always given the best things. But right now, if they see him driving Soonyoung senselessly, all hell will break loose. “More, Wonwoo. More. More. More.”
Wonwoo is a hungry beast, but Soonyoung’s libido is insatiable. Wonwoo is a predator and Soonyoung is a willing prey. Two people who fit each other perfectly.
Wonwoo notices Soonyoung reaching for his own cock, pumping it to ride his high. Soonyoung must be close. He drills into him, his cock disappearing with every push, the sturdy mahogany table rocking with each mind-blowing thrust. It’s an adorable sight, Soonyoung’s tiny hands wrapped around his own cock, dirtied by the pre-cum he released a while ago. It’s cute seeing him try so hard.
It is when Soonyoung clamped around his cock, arching his back like a perfect reverse C with a grunt, tears welling up in his eyes—his cum squirts everywhere. On his face, on his stomach, on the window, on the table, all over the documents. He leaves a trace on the table and Wonwoo thinks that’s all he will ever imagine while he works. The image of Soonyoung submitting to him—to the pleasure Wonwoo was giving him is etched in his mind forever. The stream of his release—a culmination of absolute gratification. When Soonyoung resigned his back against the hardness of the tabletop, Wonwoo sat him up, wrapping his legs around his waist. “We’re not yet done, Soonyoung.” He feels Soonyoung’s release against his skin, wet and sticky. Soonyoung hooks his hand around his neck, face nuzzled on his shoulder. He moves to the side, Soonyoung’s back pressed against the cold window, the city lights illuminating at the back. “Down, Soonyoung.” He commands and Soonyoung willingly obliges, bare feet finally touching the carpeted floor. “I want you— I need you.”
Wonwoo flips Soonyoung, back against him, now facing the view of the city from Wonwoo’s penthouse. “ Hngh—Won, ahhh— ” Soonyoung mewls so melodiously when Wonwoo grinds his shaft against Soonyoung’s back, hands playing with each of his erected nipples. Soonyoung turns his head to him, lips curved downward, as if about to burst into tears. “Please,” But Wonwoo has better plans—he cups Soonyoung’s jaw with his right hand and adjusts the angle of Soonyoung’s small face, now turned towards the landscape of the Han River, city lights coming from the line of urban architecture on the other side, illuminating in the darkness of the night, an innumerable stars littered on the celestial sphere decorating the after dark. “Please.”
While that is certainly a beautiful view to look at, there’s nothing more beautiful than the man in front of Wonwoo.
“Aren’t you tired? We can—” stop if you’re tired. They can continue wherever they left off tomorrow. Wonwoo can take a day off and let Hao handle the rest. He did say they’re not done yet, but if—
“No, no. Not for you.” Soonyoung’s unexpected reply halts Wonwoo’s thoughts. “Are you?”
Wonwoo shakes his head, a bitter smile making its way to his lips. “No. When I say I need you, I need you. No questions asked. I need you, every inch of you, Soonyoung…”
“Prove me you mean it, Jeon. Show me. Do it like you mean it.” Soonyoung tells him, albeit voice shaking, sounding weak and soft.
There is only one way that Wonwoo knows of, and he does it, cock slowly entering Soonyoung’s entrance, warm insides heating up Wonwoo’s hard on. “So warm, ‘Nyoung.” Soonyoung grips on his arm, nail digging on his skin, crying Wonwoo’s name so beautifully. Wonwoo plants a kiss on Soonyoung’s shoulder, noticing the marks he left, red, so obvious against Soonyoung’s milky white skin. With the way Soonyoung clenches his hole around Wonwoo’s cock, Wonwoo tightens his grip on Soonyoung’s hips, finding purchase on his jutted hipbone. “If people could see you from up here, Soonyoung… I wonder what kind of expression would you be making right now.”
“But I’d never want them to see you. I want to keep this—you,” Wonwoo wants Soonyoung all to himself. “All to myself, Soonyoung. All for me.”
“Ahhh—Wonwoo!” Soonyoung unceremoniously cums again after he uttered those words. Wonwoo feels his viscous liquid squirting everywhere, droplets dripping from his hands on Soonyoung’s hips. When he looks at the window in front of them, oh fuck. Soonyoung is really an artist, isn’t he? He painted the window with his cum. Heat pools in Wonwoo’s stomach with the thought of Soonyoung succumbing to the pleasure he’s giving him. He’s doing this to Soonyoung? He’s the sole cause of this?
“I’m going to cum, Soonyoung. So—so close!” Before he can pull out, Soonyoung reaches for his back and pulls him closer, pressing his body against his front so he wouldn’t have the chance to pull out. He fills him to the brim, so full that the excess trickles from his hole down to his thighs.
Soonyoung is a mess, a very beautiful mess.
He stays still, panting, catching his breath while his member is still lodged inside Soonyoung’s hole. Soonyoung leans back and rests against his body, relishing in his warmth. He coils his hands around Soonyoung’s tummy and lifts him up, walking towards his leather lazyboy recliner. There, he sits with Soonyoung on top of him. Really, he just intended to rest before cleaning up, but it seems like Soonyoung had other plans. Soonyoung bounces up and down on his cock, swaying his hips left and right. Wonwoo groans, head lolling back as he savors the sensation—Soonyoung’s wanton moans echoing. The recliner springs up and down along with each of Soonyoung’s movement, jerking his hips up and down like there’s no tomorrow.
“Fuck! Soonyoung!” It is when Wonwoo cums in him again after screaming Soonyoung’s name that the painter slumps his body against his, exhaustion finally creeping in. Soonyoung shifts his position, now finally facing him, tugging at his necktie before nibbling at his lower lip, gently pressing a kiss before resting his head on his chest.
“Let’s clean you up?”
Soonyoung hums. “After this, let’s sleep. Sleep beside me this time, Wonwoo.” Wonwoo presses a kiss on his forehead, smiling.
Soonyoung always gets the bed and Wonwoo on his couch after sex. That’s the rule. That’s where they’ve drawn the line.
This is progress, right?
He doesn’t know if he will come out of this unscathed. They’ve only just begun to put their plans into motion. There’s no guarantee for success. But if everything works out in their favor…
…Wonwoo hopes that someday Soonyoung will give him his heart.