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Yeonjun is going to kill Soobin.
The thought flashes sharp and violent, but all Yeonjun can do is gape down at the glittering, lacy monstrosity nestled within the festive tissue paper. Expensive lace, white and red, with ribbons, delicately strung together in a way that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. Somewhere in the depths of his spiraling mind, he registers that it’s christmas-themed. Very festive.
Yeonjun swears he stops breathing for a solid ten seconds, the world tilting as he tries to reconcile this absolute nightmare of a situation. Had he opened this alone, maybe in private, where he could laugh or scold Soobin as much as he wanted, this would have been fine. Great, even. He might’ve blushed, shoved it back into the box, and dragged Soobin into their room for a pointed “conversation”.
But this?
This is presented to him in his parents’ living room, in full view of his entire family.
The fire crackles in the hearth.
“What is it?” his mother’s voice rings sweetly through the moment of silence that has inexplicably fallen over the room.
Yeonjun swallows, throat dry as sandpaper, his eyes darting up to meet his boyfriend’s across the room. Soobin is sitting cross-legged on the carpet, looking every bit like the picture of innocence. His sweater is too big, his hair soft and slightly mussed, his stupid perfect lips twitching like he’s holding back the laughter of the century. It’s the faintest movement, just the slightest quirk of a brow, but it’s enough to set Yeonjun’s blood on fire.
Oh, Soobin’s enjoying this.
His boyfriend, the absolute love of his life, has the audacity to look proud of himself. Like he’s just handed Yeonjun the keys to a new car instead of a box containing… this.
Yeonjun snaps the box shut with a loud snap, plastering on what he hopes is a convincing smile, though the edges tremble in fear of anyone wanting to have a look inside. “It’s… just a personal gift. Nothing big,” he says quickly, and dear God, he feels the heat crawling up his neck. This is not happening. This cannot be happening.
His sister narrows her eyes suspiciously. “Personal? What, like a diary?”
“Yes, so… thanks, Soobin. Next gift, please!” Yeonjun practically yells, waving a hand and shoving the box under his arm like a football he’s about to run straight out of the room. His father raises an eyebrow, amused, but the attention finally shifts away as his little brother starts ripping the paper off his new Nintendo switch.
Yeonjun lets out a breath, long, slow, and shaky, his shoulders slumping as he slinks back onto the couch. His heart is still hammering against his ribs, embarrassment still roaring in his ears like white noise. For a second, he thinks he’s safe.
But he is not.
Soobin slides onto the couch beside him, close enough that their knees bump. Yeonjun doesn’t look at him. He can’t. If he looks at Soobin’s face, at the mischievous glint in his eyes, at that stupid smirk, those cute but so very attractive dimples, he might actually explode.
He feels Soobin lean in, close enough that Yeonjun catches the faint scent of his cologne, the warmth of him seeping through the layers of the elder’s sweater. He keeps his smile pinned in place for the sake of his family, eyes fixed on the fire.
His boyfriend’s voice is a whisper, soft enough for only him to hear.
“Merry Christmas, baby.”
Yeonjun doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. But his smile tightens, his tone saccharine as a blade dipped in honey.
“I will kill you.”
Soobin laughs under his breath, a sound Yeonjun feels more than hears, soft against the shell of his ear. It’s warm, teasing, unbearably pleased with itself. “You’ll thank me later.”
The younger wraps an arm around the elder. Yeonjun digs his fingers into the fabric of the box under his arm, resisting the very real urge to chuck it straight into the fire. At the same time a different kind of fire is erupting in his lower belly, as Soobin’s index finger sneaks underneath his sweater, innocently grazing the top of his shoulder. It’s just a small, fleeting touch. Barely anything at all. But it lights him up like the damn Christmas tree in the corner, every nerve buzzing with mortification… and something he refuses to name.
Thank him?
Oh, he’ll thank him, all right.
When he’s buried six feet under in the backyard.
Or a few inches inside of hi-
“Yeonjun, are you okay?”
His mother’s voice cuts through the moment like an axe.
Yeonjun jerks so hard he nearly topples off the couch, shoulders snapping straight as he glances up at her with wide, panicked eyes. “What?” he chokes out, too quickly. Too suspiciously.
His father smirks.
His mother is staring at him, halfway through unwrapping a scarf, her brow furrowed. “You’re sweating. Did you eat something weird? You’re not getting a fever, right?”
Yeonjun sputters, “No, I’m fine. Totally fine. Great, even.”
The lie is as unconvincing as his plastered-on grin, but before his father can press further, his sister calls out cheerfully,” Let’s start the games, everyone! Who’s ready for charades?”
Thank God. Saved by tradition.
A chorus of groans and cheers echoes around the room, the focus shifting mercifully off Yeonjun. His father pulls the coffee table aside, creating a makeshift stage in front of the couch. Soobin, ever the opportunist, stays right where he is, arm still draped lazily around the elder’s shoulders, a picture of casual confidence that makes Yeonjun want to throttle him.
“You’re sweating, huh?” Soobin murmurs, his lips tilted in a smirk.
Yeonjun elbows him sharply in the ribs. “Shut up,” he hisses, cheeks heating again.
And luckily the younger finally does, even though his arm stays in place, firmly wrapped around the elder, their sides pressing against each other at all times.
For the next hour, the house rings with laughter as charades devolves into friendly screaming matches. Yeonjun’s little brother tackles his sister to the floor when she takes too long guessing, and Yeonjun’s mother keeps accidentally giving answers while trying to help.
Yeonjun lets himself relax a little, even managing to laugh for real when Soobin flails dramatically to act out The Matrix.
But every now and then, as his eyes meet his boyfriend’s across the room, when Soobin smirks like he knows exactly what’s in Yeonjun’s head, the box under Yeonjun’s arm feels heavier.
Six feet under, he reminds himself grimly. Six feet.
Soobin doesn’t deserve this.
But Yeonjun still wants it.
The house is quiet, soft snores filtering in faintly from Yeonjun’s parents’ room down the hall, the hum of the heater rising in a rhythm that feels too loud in his ears. Yeonjun stares into the mirror, barely recognizing the reflection that blinks back at him. His eyes are wide, his hair still wet from the shower he just took.
The box sits perched on the sink beside him, its crisp corners and cheerful red ribbon somehow mocking him. The contents within, buried beneath tissue paper, might as well be a grenade, a bomb with his dignity strapped to it. He’s been standing there for ten minutes, hands braced against the counter, the weight of his thoughts spiraling like a hurricane inside his head.
This is ridiculous.
He shouldn’t.
He wouldn’t.
Again, Soobin doesn’t deserve this, after the stunt he pulled earlier.
Yeonjun frowns at himself, his reflection returning the expression like a judgmental twin. But then there’s the soft echo of Soobin’s teasing voice in his memory, the grin on his stupidly perfect face when he whispered, “You’ll thank me later.”
It makes something hot coil in Yeonjun’s chest, equal parts annoyance and the tiniest flicker of curiosity.
“Fuck it,” Yeonjun mutters, the words a cracked whisper as his resolve crumbles. The sound echoes faintly in the small bathroom, accompanied by the rustle of the ribbon as he yanks the lid off the box.
The underwear, if it can even be called that, is delicate and soft in his hands, the lace catching faintly in the light, almost glowing. It’s red and white, festively ridiculous, but there’s no denying the craftsmanship. Ornamental straps curve in all the right places, the little red bow at the front adding insult to injury. Merry Christmas, indeed.
For a moment, Yeonjun just stares down at it.
“This is so stupid,” he mutters to no one in particular.
But, well, he’s committed now.
The process of putting the underwear on is an exercise in humiliation and precision. The lace stretches snug over his skin, a fact that sends a flush racing up Yeonjun’s neck. He twists and turns awkwardly to check himself from every angle, knees nearly banging against the sink. It’s ridiculous. Ornamental. Impossibly small.
But somehow, against all logic, it looks… good.
Too good.
Yeonjun scowls at the mirror, the heat in his cheeks burning brighter. He looks like the cover star of some very specific Christmas catalog, the kind sold in corners of the internet he doesn’t want to think about. A catalog Soobin has probably bookmarked, like the perv he is.
“Insufferable,” he hisses under his breath, his voice cracking slightly. “He’s insufferable, and I’m insane.”
Snatching up his bathrobe, Yeonjun wraps it tightly around himself, the fabric soft against his bare skin. He ties the belt with such ferocity that he nearly knots it. Glaring at his reflection, cheeks flushed, lips pressed into a stubborn line, he shakes his head.
“You’re so gonna regret this.”
And yet, despite the self-recrimination, he can’t stop the way his pulse quickens as he reaches for the doorknob.
The bedroom is dim, illuminated only by the glow of a small lamp on the nightstand. Soobin, sprawled lazily on the bed like he owns it, doesn’t immediately notice. He’s buried half beneath the blanket, phone in hand, thumb scrolling idly as he hums a soft, off-key Christmas tune under his breath. His hair is a mess, the sweater he’s still wearing riding up slightly to expose a sliver of skin at his waist. He looks so perfectly relaxed, so at ease, that it ignites something feral in Yeonjun’s chest.
For a second, Yeonjun just stands there, clutching the edges of his bathrobe. His heart thuds in his chest like a war drum, and he fights the urge to turn around and run straight back to the bathroom and put on his perfectly normal and warm pajamas.
But no. He’s already here.
He clears his throat loudly, loud enough to sound pointed.
Soobin glances up at him, brow quirking lazily.
“Well, look at you,” he drawls. “Fresh out of a luxury hotel commercial?”
The elder stops dead in his tracks. “What?”
His boyfriend’s grin spreads wider, dimples on full display. “No, no, wait.” He squints. “You look like… like a milf fresh out of the bath trying to seduce the pizza delivery man.”
“Asshole.” Yeonjun glares at him. “You might want to take that back.”
Soobin’s eyes crinkle amused. “Why would I?”
“Because otherwise,” Yeonjun makes a vague gesture at himself, more specifically, at the tightly cinched bathrobe hiding his very questionable life decisions. “You’re never going to see what’s under this.”
There’s a beat of silence. A very long beat.
The words sound more confident than he feels. In reality, his face feels like it’s on fire, and he’s pretty sure his knees are shaking.
Soobin blinks, his expression blank for another beat. Then his gaze shifts toward the bathroom, where the now-empty box sits conspicuously on the counter, lid discarded.
Recognition dawns like fireworks going off behind his eyes, and Yeonjun feels all the blood drain from his face. He knows that look, the one Soobin gets when he’s winning, when he knows he has the elder cornered.
“You didn’t,” Soobin says slowly, his voice dripping with disbelief and delight.
Yeonjun glares at him, fists clenching around the fabric of the robe. “Don’t look so pleased with yourself.”
The younger’s voice drops, a grin beginning to tug at his lips again. “Oh my god, you did.”
Yeonjun groans, feeling the shame wash over him like a tidal wave. “I hate you.”
But Soobin isn’t listening anymore. He’s already moving, his phone discarded on the nightstand as he sits up. Then he’s standing, his long strides closing the distance between them too quickly for Yeonjun to protest.
“Soobin,” Yeonjun warns, though it comes out weak, more breath than threat.
Soobin doesn’t say anything, his eyes dark with intrigue as he stops just in front of him. He reaches out slowly, his fingers curling around the knot of Yeonjun’s bathrobe belt.
Yeonjun sucks in a sharp breath. “Soobin.”
“You really put them on,” Soobin murmurs, voice low and warm, the teasing edge softened by genuine awe. His fingers toy with the knot of Yeonjun’s bathrobe, tugging it just enough that the fabric loosens, slackening around his waist.
Yeonjun’s pulse spikes, and he instinctively grabs at the edges of the robe, holding it shut despite the slight gap now teasingly open. “I’m never listening to you again,” Yeonjun mutters, shifting restlessly.
Soobin only hums in response, his eyes never leaving Yeonjun’s face. Slowly, so slowly it feels deliberate, he reaches out and brushes his fingertips against the lapel of the robe. The touch is light, feather-soft, but Yeonjun feels it everywhere.
“Can I?” Soobin asks quietly, sending a shiver racing down the elder’s spine.
Yeonjun glares at him weakly, his cheeks burning, his resolve cracking. “You’re already doing it, you don’t need my permission,” he grumbles.
Soobin grins faintly at that, clearly pleased, and instead of yanking the robe open in one go, he takes his time. His hands, steady, warm, annoyingly slowly push the edges of the fabric apart, inch by inch, as though unwrapping the most fragile gift. Yeonjun holds his breath, his fingers twitching uselessly at his sides as the gap widens. He feels the cool air of the room hit his bare skin first, followed by the burn of Soobin’s gaze, hot and heavy, like a physical weight.
“Wow,” Soobin murmurs under his breath, more to himself than to Yeonjun, and Yeonjun swears he’s going to spontaneously combust.
The robe slips just slightly off one shoulder, exposing the first teasing glimpse of red lace against pale skin. Soobin’s hand rises, reverent and hesitant, his thumb brushing gently over the curve of the elder’s shoulder as he leans in to look closer. Yeonjun doesn’t dare move. He feels frozen in place, rooted to the spot by his boyfriend’s presence, the way he looks at him like he’s something rare and precious.
“You look…” Soobin trails off, his voice catching faintly.
Yeonjun shifts awkwardly, his face blazing. “Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles.
Soobin lifts his gaze to meet Yeonjun’s eyes, his expression softer now, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. “Like what?”
“Like…” The words die on his tongue when Soobin pulls the robe fully away, the fabric slipping down Yeonjun’s shoulders like a whisper. Soobin freezes, his breath audibly hitching. His gaze drags down the elder’s body, taking in every detail, the delicate lace, the ribbons, the way the straps hug his hips. Yeonjun wants to melt into the floor. Or combust. Possibly both at the same time.
The silence stretches on for what feels like hours. Soobin just stares. Yeonjun shifts, his face burning. “Say something,” he grumbles, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Soobin exhales sharply, a sound somewhere between disbelief and admiration, before his lips split into the smuggest grin Yeonjun has ever seen. And that’s saying something.
“I have such good taste,” he says, his voice low, teasing. His hands rise slowly, fingers skimming over Yeonjun’s sides, brushing over the lace. “In underwear…” He pauses, lifting his eyes to meet Yeonjun’s, and his gaze softens. “And men.”
The compliment lands like a physical blow, knocking the air straight out of Yeonjun’s lungs. His heart stutters violently in his chest. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, to push back against the embarrassment clawing at his throat, but Soobin doesn’t give him the chance.
Instead, he takes that moment to step closer, close enough that Yeonjun can feel the warmth of him, close enough that his knees feel weak. Soobin reaches up to cup the elder’s face gently, his thumb brushing just beneath his cheekbone. “So pretty.” He breathes. He smirks. “And I don’t mean the underwear.”
Before Yeonjun can respond, Soobin leans in, closing the distance between them as he captures Yeonjun’s lips in a kiss. Soft, sure, and warm enough to melt every bit of embarrassment lingering in Yeonjun’s chest.
Soobin’s lips move against Yeonjun’s, as if he has all the time in the world to unravel him piece by piece. It’s infuriating, how calm and sure he is, while Yeonjun feels like he’s on the verge of combusting. His pulse hammers wildly in his chest, every nerve lit up and hyperaware of the way Soobin’s hands settle on his waist, thumbs brushing over the delicate lace stretched across his hips.
It’s maddening.
One finger lifts a lace and lets it snap gently back down against Yeonjun’s skin. The elder freezes for just a second, his mind short-circuiting from the overwhelming sensation. His hands hover awkwardly at his sides before his fingers finally twitch, curling loosely into the front of Soobin’s sweater.
Soobin notices, because of course he does. He smiles against Yeonjun’s lips, smug and sweet all at once, and deepens the kiss just enough to make Yeonjun’s heart stutter even more.
“Relax,” Soobin murmurs against his mouth, soft like velvet. His hands slide slowly down Yeonjun’s sides, his thumbs brushing over the exposed skin at his waist. “You’re shaking. Are you this excited?”
Yeonjun rolls his eyes, ignoring the way Soobin’s left hand wanders dangerously low. “Why do I even put up with you? Now that I think about it, after the stunt you’ve pulled earlier, I’m not even sure you deserve this.”
Soobin pulls back slightly, just enough to look him in the eye. The lamp’s soft light casts shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw. His grin is equal parts of teasing and fond. “But you’re still standing here. In this.” Soobin murmurs, brushing a thumb over the elder’s bottom lip. “Just for me.”
Yeonjun swallows hard. “Get to work then.”
His boyfriend huffs amused, and then they kiss again. With a little more pressure. A little more heat. It’s still not fast, but so very agonizingly slow, as if Soobin is mapping him out, savoring every reaction the elder gives him. And, god, Yeonjun can’t help but react. His breath stutters again, his knees threaten to buckle, and when the younger’s hands slide down to settle on his lace-covered ass, he makes a noise he doesn’t even recognize, muffled against Soobin’s mouth.
The other grins into the kiss. “You’re cute when you try to hold back.”
Yeonjun tries to glare, but it’s hard to look menacing when his face is flushed, and he’s being held so securely in his boyfriend’s grasp. “We’re at my parents’ house. Don’t push it!”
“Oh, but I will,” Soobin replied easily, as his hands skim back up. “And you’re gonna let me.”
The elder reaches up to shove weakly at the other’s shoulder, but it’s half-hearted at best, especially when Soobin leans in again, pressing a kiss to the corner of Yeonjun’s mouth.
“I’m hearing no real complaints,” Soobin presses another kiss, this time to the elder’s flushed cheek.
Yeonjun groans softly, tipping his head back and glaring at the ceiling as if it might offer him some reprieve. “I swear, you’re going to regret this when I…”
He doesn’t get to finish, because Soobin chooses that exact moment to brush his lips over the elder’s throat, lingering there for just a beat longer than necessary. The noise Yeonjun makes is so mortifying that he clamps a hand over his mouth immediately, eyes wide with sheer embarrassment.
Soobin freezes for half a second, his lips working into a wicked grin against the elder’s skin. “Oh?” His tongue darts out to lick over the spot and Yeonjun’s bites down on his lower lip.
He shakes his head frantically. “No. Absolutely not. You didn’t hear anything.”
“Oh, I did, though.” He tips Yeonjun’s head down, so they’re eye to eye again. “That was cute. And I want to hear it again.”
“Shut up,” the elder whines, the hand still clamped over his mouth doing nothing to hide the way his ears are now burning red. “I’m not...” Yeonjun starts, but the younger cuts him off by dipping his head, pressing another kiss to the side of his neck. His breath hitches sharply, his knees wobbling beneath him, and this time he doesn’t bother trying to stop the tiny, involuntary sound that escapes his lips.
Soobin smirks against his skin, clearly triumphant. “That’s what I thought.”
Soobin doesn’t give Yeonjun a chance to react. One moment, the elder’s grumbling, his cheeks a furious shade of crimson, and the next - he’s airborne. Soobin’s hands spin them around until Yeonjun lands with a soft oomph onto the bed. The mattress dips beneath him, the breath knocked out of his lungs as he stares up at Soobin in wide-eyed shock.
“Soobin!”
But the culprit is already crawling over him, settling himself between Yeonjun’s thighs like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The grin on his face is devastatingly handsome, his gaze trailing lazily down the elder’s body lying on top of the soft winter blanket.
Yeonjun squirms beneath him, tugging weakly at the hem of the bathrobe that’s already fallen completely open, leaving him exposed. The lace doesn’t help at all and Soobin clearly notices because he tilts his head teasingly.
“It really doesn’t hide anything,” Soobin’s gaze flicks downward meaningfully. Yeonjun chokes on his breath, heat rushing through his veins like wildfire. He follows his boyfriend’s gaze, and, oh, he is already half-hard beneath the thin fabric, red laces framing his aching problem, trying to keep it down but failing spectacularly.
Soobin, entirely unbothered, grins wider, one of his hands trailing down to rest on Yeonjun’s thigh. His thumb strokes the skin there absently, as though he’s soothing Yeonjun’s nerves while simultaneously lighting him on fire. “Your dick has never looked so pretty, Junie,” Soobin coos with a little too much fondness for talking about the dick of someone else.
Yeonjun makes a strangled noise of protest, his entire body jolting at the words. “Soobin!” he whines, reaching up to slap at the other’s shoulder in sheer embarrassment. “Don’t say stuff like that, what’s wrong with you?!”
Soobin only laughs, unbothered by the weak shove, his dimples deepening as he watches Yeonjun squirm beneath him. “What?” he asks innocently, though the teasing lilt in his voice betrays him. “I’m just telling the truth. You look…” He pauses, leaning down so close that Yeonjun can feel his breath ghosting over his flushed skin, his lips hovering near his ear. “…delicious. Very festive. Sexy elf.”
The elder groans loudly, throwing an arm over his face as if that’ll somehow save him. “You know what? I’m just gonna go change into my paja…”
And Soobin just loves to interrupt him.
He cuts him off mid-sentence, sliding down between Yeonjun’s thighs before leaning in, without warning, dragging a slow, fat stripe of his tongue directly across Yeonjun’s lace-covered dick. The sudden sensation is electric, a wet heat that presses against the sensitive fabric, dampening it slightly and making Yeonjun’s entire body jolt with a sharp gasp. His dick twitches in delight, as if aggreeing wholeheartedly with his boyfriend’s actions.
“S-Soobin!” Yeonjun’s voice breaks, the sound somewhere between a startled shout and a whimper as his back arches slightly, his body betraying him. He doesn’t know what he wants to tell the other. Or maybe he does.
Soobin watches him writhe with dark, satisfied eyes. “See?” he murmurs, voice low and gravelly now, like he’s enjoying this far too much. “You don’t need pajamas, Junie. You need to stay right here. Wrapped in my pretty and sexy present.”
“My parents… you… you can’t just…”
“Oh, I can,” Soobin interrupts smoothly, as he shifts closer again. His hands slide up Yeonjun’s thighs, warm and steady, holding him in place as he dips his head once more. “And I think you like it very much.”
Before Yeonjun can protest, Soobin leans back in, pressing his lips to the damp lace this time, kissing it softly but messily. The gentleness of it makes the elder’s head spin, his toes curling as the sensation sends a wave of heat pooling low in his stomach. He bites down on his lower lip, trying, and failing, to hold back the tiny whine that escapes him.
“I swear to god, Soobin…”
Soobin hums thoughtfully, the vibration sending a pulse of pleasure through Yeonjun’s already overstimulated nerves. “Swearing at me already? That’s not very festive.” He leans back slightly, his thumb brushing gently over the damp spot forming against the lace, watching Yeonjun’s hips twitch involuntarily. “You’re so sensitive, baby. It’s cute.”
“God,” Yeonjun groans, though his voice lacks any conviction. He tries to glare down at the younger, but his expression is ruined by how glassy his eyes are, his chest rising and falling with every quickened breath. “You’re… you’re so annoying.”
Soobin laughs softly, his thumb still circling lazily against the lace in a way that makes Yeonjun’s breath stutter. “Already calling me God for the second time today,” he murmurs, his voice sweet. “I’m honored.”
Yeonjun opens his mouth to argue, but all that escapes is a soft, broken whimper when Soobin presses another kiss right there, his lips grazing over the lace like a whisper. Then he crawls back up, putting their foreheads together, breathing against each other’s lips. His thumb rubs over the elder’s dick, gentle, teasing, and Yeonjun can’t stop the way his hips twitch up, chasing the friction. The wet stripe the younger had licked across the fabric earlier has soaked through, leaving the lace damp and clinging to him.
Yeonjun makes another broken sound, half-whimper, half-plea, as Soobin leans down again, capturing his lips in another kiss. His mouth moves slowly against Yeonjun’s, deepening the kiss bit by bit as his hand continues to move, pressing and circling against the wet lace.
The sensation is too much, the way the fabric sticks to him, the way it drags wetly with every stroke, amplifying the pressure in all the right places. Yeonjun can feel the heat building low in his stomach, spreading outwards until his body feels too hot, too sensitive.
Soobin grins against his lips when Yeonjun makes another muffled sound, a whimper that he tries and fails to swallow down. “You like this, don’t you?” Soobin murmurs, his voice impossibly smug, like he’s delighted by the discovery. His lips trail down, pressing a kiss to the corner of Yeonjun’s mouth, then his jaw, then the sensitive spot just below his ear. “The way it feels? The lace all wet and sticky?”
Yeonjun squeezes his eyes shut, cheeks burning as he lets out a shaky breath. “Y-yes!” He gasps. There is no point in lying anyways. “Soobin,” he whimpers, the word now a definite plea, though he isn’t sure what he means.
“Hmm?” his boyfriend hums in response, his breath warm against the elder’s ear as his thumb presses a little harder. The added pressure has Yeonjun’s back arching off the bed, a moan escaping his lips before he can stop.
“Fucking tease.” he grumbles, as Soobin laughs, his hand slowing just enough. The lack of friction makes the elder whine softly into the pillow, his hips shifting up on their own to chase Soobin’s touch.
“Say that again?” the younger’s hand stills entirely, resting warm and firm over the elder’s dick without moving. “I couldn’t hear you over how much you’re enjoying this.”
Yeonjun lifts his head just enough to try and send Soobin a death-glare, though the effect is ruined by how flushed he looks, his lips red and kiss-swollen. “You’re insufferable,” he grits out, but it comes out breathless, his chest heaving with every quickened breath.
Soobin smirks. He leans down to kiss him again. The kiss is hungrier, Soobin’s tongue brushing against Yeonjun’s bottom lip before slipping into his mouth. It’s enough to leave Yeonjun dizzy, his hands flying up to clutch at the younger’s shoulders. While their mouths move together, Soobin finally starts moving his hand again, pressing firmly against the wet lace, rubbing a little faster, tight circle that send Yeonjun’s mind spinning. The elder’s grip on Soobin’s sweater tightens, his fingers curling into the fabric as a strangled noise escapes him, muffled by the kiss.
His head tips back against the pillow, breaking the kiss as his chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths.
“Look at you,” Soobin murmurs, voice dripping sweetly with affection as he watches Yeonjun tremble. His free hand rises, brushing through the elder’s hair. “So pretty like this.”
Yeonjun whimpers again. Then he notices that he is almost naked while his boyfriend is still fully clothed, and he thinks that’s very unfair. He wants to have something to look at, too. Next Christmas he should buy Soobin some underwear. Without more thinking, without caring, his hands grip the front of Soobin’s sweater tightly. “Get this off,” Yeonjun tugs at the fabric impatiently, his cheeks flushed as the lingering pressure burns in his stomach.
Soobin blinks, surprised at first, before his annoying grin is right back in place. “Oh, so demanding all of a sudden.”
“Shut up,” Yeonjun snaps, the second word turning into an embarrassing moan. He tugs harder. “You’re the one who started this.”
“Actually, you put on…”
“Soobin!”
“Fine, fine,” The younger laughs, lifting his arms obligingly to let Yeonjun pull the sweater over his head. The fabric drags up and off, leaving Soobin’s torso bare, his skin warm and smooth in the soft glow of the bedside lamp.
Yeonjun stares for a moment, his eyes trailing down from the defined curve of Soobin’s shoulders to his chest, his lean stomach. He swallows hard, cheeks still burning, before he rolls them over and pushes Soobin down onto the mattress with a determined huff.
“My turn,” Yeonjun straddles Soobin’s hips, his hands immediately starting to roam.
Soobin grins up at him, letting his head fall back against the pillow, eyes watching Yeonjun with interest. “Your turn for what, exactly?”
Yeonjun doesn’t answer right away, his fingers skimming lightly over Soobin’s chest, brushing over his collarbones before trailing lower. He pinches one of Soobin’s sides playfully, just enough to make him squirm and let out a surprised giggle.
“Hey!” Soobin laughs, trying to catch the elder’s hands as they dance teasingly across his bare torso. “Quit it, that tickles!”
Yeonjun grins, victorious, as he does it again, pinching at Soobin’s other side just to hear him giggle once more. “Oh, what’s wrong? You don’t like it?”
Soobin wriggles under him, trying to grab Yeonjun’s wrists, but his laughter fades into something softer when Yeonjun leans down, his hands settling against Soobin’s chest. The elder holds him there, pushing him down more into the matress. “Stop trying to move.”
His boyfriend lets out a mock sigh of impatience but doesn’t argue, watching as Yeonjun leans back on his knees. The elder’s hands trail lower, brushing over his stomach before hooking into the waistband of his pants. He tugs sharply, pulling Soobin’s pants down in one smooth motion, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. Before the younger can comment, Yeonjun shushes him, grabbing hold of the boxers and pulling them off just as quickly.
“Someone’s impatient.”
“Someone’s rock hard.”
“Says you…”
Soobin’s teasing words are cut off abruptly when Yeonjun suddenly leans down, his tongue flicking out to rest the tip against the head of Soobin’s cock, holding it there.
The effect is immediate. Soobin freezes, his breath catching sharply in his throat, his eyes widening before fluttering half-closed. He hums in delight, his hands curling into the sheets beside him. But Yeonjun doesn’t move. Doesn’t do anything. He just holds himself there, his tongue pressed against Soobin’s tip, his eyes flicking up to meet the younger’s face with a look that’s equal parts daring and smug. The stillness stretches, his boyfriend’s breathing growing more uneven with every passing second. Finally, when Yeonjun still hasn’t moved, Soobin groans.
“Do something,” he mutters, shifting his hips just slightly, his body already aching for more.
Yeonjun pulls back just enough to speak. “What do you want me to do?”
“Are you serious right now?”
Yeonjun shrugs.
Soobin groans again, his head turning to the side as he mutters something Yeonjun can’t quite hear. His hands twitch against the sheets, his knuckles white as he fists the fabric tightly. “I forgot you’re evil,” he finally grumbles, voice strained.
“Maybe,” he replies softly, as he leans back down, his mouth hovering dangerously close to Soobin’s dick once again. He presses a soft kiss just below the tip this time, barely there, fleeting, and watches as Soobin shivers beneath him.
“Yeonjun…”
“What?” Yeonjun says, tilting his head in mock innocence. Now it is his time to be annoying. He leans down again, breath ghosting over the other’s skin. “I thought you liked taking things slow.”
“Not now,” Soobin bites out. His eyes, however, betray him. They’re half-lidded, dark and hazy, his pupils blown wide with need. “Stop playing around.”
Yeonjun grins, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he presses another soft, fleeting kiss, this time to the side of Soobin’s shaft, deliberately avoiding the tip. The way Soobin shudders beneath him, his thighs tensing in response, makes Yeonjun feel a little drunk on the power he suddenly holds. He knows that Soobin could take back control anytime he wants but he lets Yeonjun be his little bratty self for some time and the elder dearly loves him for it.
“Stop playing?” Yeonjun muses. “But you’re so fun to mess with.” He presses a firmer kiss this time, just above Soobin’s hip bone, the warmth of his mouth lingering against the sensitive skin. “I’ve barely touched you.”
Soobin groans again, his head falling back against the pillow, and Yeonjun catches the way his fingers twitch, as though he’s trying to keep from reaching out and dragging Yeonjun closer.
“I swear,” Soobin mutters, his voice lower now, wrecked and breathless, “if you don’t do something soon…”
Yeonjun presses his lips fully to Soobin’s length, his mouth soft and warm as he drags a slow, open-mouthed kiss along the underside. The reaction is immediate. Soobin gasps sharply but also in delight, his hips twitching upward despite himself, his hands flying from the sheets to grip at Yeonjun’s hair instead.
“Fuck…” Soobin exhales, “…ing finally.” Yeonjun feels the sound ripple through him like a live wire.
Encouraged, he keeps going, dragging his tongue along the length of Soobin’s shaft, loving every reaction, every sharp inhale, every shudder that runs through Soobin’s body.
“You’re so easy,” he mutters, voice muffled against the younger’s skin.
Soobin lets out a shaky laugh, though it’s broken halfway by another gasp when Yeonjun lingers just a little longer at the tip, swirling his tongue experimentally. “You… mmh… you’re one to talk,” Soobin manages to choke out, his fingers tightening in Yeonjun’s hair.
Yeonjun ignores him, even though he might be right, and leans down again, wrapping his lips fully around the tip of Soobin’s dick this time, taking him in slowly, carefully.
“Yeonjun… fuck,” Soobin groans for hundredth time as he presses his head back into the pillow, his knuckles white from how hard he’s gripping at Yeonjun’s hair.
The elder hums softly in response, the sound vibrating through Soobin and pulling a shuddered exhale from him. The sound echoes in Yeonjun’s ears, fueling the heat already pooling low in his stomach. Slowly, he lowers his head further, the weight of Soobin’s length settling heavily on his tongue, the heat of it making Yeonjun’s own thighs clench involuntarily. Soobin tastes warm and faintly salty. It coats Yeonjun’s tongue as he works, lets it press firmly along the underside, mapping out every ridge and vein with a devotion that surprises even him.
The grip in his hair tightens, the faint sting making his scalp tingle, but Yeonjun doesn’t mind. If anything, it spurs him on.
His pace starts slow, his mouth working the other with care, his tongue pressing along the underside of the younger’s dick with every movement. Yeonjun’s hands come up to steady Soobin’s hips, holding him down gently to keep him from thrusting up.
“So good,” Soobin mutters breathlessly, his voice ragged. “You’re… ahh… so good at this.”
And Yeonjun knows. Soobin has said it before, more than once, but hearing it in moments like this, raw and wrecked, never fails to make Yeonjun’s chest flutter. He lets his hand trail lower, his fingers wrapping around the base of Soobin’s length where his mouth can’t reach.
Then, he lifts his gaze briefly, peeking up at Soobin through his slightly wet lashes, and the sight that greets him almost makes him stop altogether.
Soobin looks beautiful, his head tipped back against the pillow, his mouth parted as he gasps for air, his cheeks flushed pink and his dark hair mussed against the sheets. His half-lidded eyes flutter open when he feels Yeonjun pause, and when their gazes lock, Soobin’s lips curl into a lazy, breathless smile.
“You’re too good,” Soobin murmurs, his voice wrecked and full of warmth.
Yeonjun rolls his eyes weakly, though he can’t fight the heat pooling in his own stomach at the compliment. He doesn’t say anything in response, he simply tightens his grip slightly at the base while taking Soobin’s length deeper, hollowing his cheeks and dragging his tongue deliberately along the sensitive underside.
Soobin curses under his breath, his back arching slightly off the mattress as his grip in Yeonjun’s hair tightens, just enough to make the elder moan softly around him. The heat of Soobin in his mouth combined with the faint tang of his arousal and the way his body reacts so easily has Yeonjun’s head spinning, his own dick aching between his legs in neglected desperation.
But then, just as Yeonjun feels Soobin’s body tighten further. Just as he thinks he’s about to push Soobin over the edge, Soobin’s hand tightens sharply in his hair, pulling him off with a wet pop.
“Stop, stop…” Soobin gasps, his voice shaky, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. His flushed face and glassy eyes make Yeonjun’s stomach flip, even as he glares up at him in confused frustration.
“Can’t break my rule now, can I?” Soobin murmurs, though the authority in his tone is undercut by how wrecked he sounds.
Yeonjun blinks at him, his lips still slick and swollen, his breathing uneven. His tongue darts out to swipe over his bottom lip, catching the faint taste of Soobin still lingering there. “Your rule is stupid,” he grumbles, though his voice trembles slightly, betraying his embarrassment.
Soobin chuckles softly, his thumb brushing along Yeonjun’s cheek as his other hand loosens in his hair. “You think so?”
“Yes,” Yeonjun mutters, though his voice is weaker now, his gaze flickering downward as the heat in his cheeks intensifies.
Soobin tilts his head, clearly unconvinced, his smirk softening into something fond. “Sure you do,” he murmurs, his hands sliding down to grip Yeonjun’s hips firmly.
Before Yeonjun can argue, Soobin moves suddenly, flipping them over with ease and pinning Yeonjun beneath him.
“Soobin!” Yeonjun yelps, squirming instinctively, though he freezes when Soobin leans down, his lips brushing against Yeonjun’s ear.
“Bratty Yeonjun time is officially over,” Soobin whispers, full of promise.
Yeonjun shivers, his body betraying him as he blushes even harder. “You’re so annoying,” he mutters weakly, though there’s no real fire behind his words.
“And you love it,” Soobin replies smoothly, his hands sliding up Yeonjun’s sides as he presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You know why I stop you, right?”
Yeonjun swallows hard, his gaze flicking up to meet Soobin’s. “Because you’re stubborn?”
Soobin’s laugh is quiet and warm as he shakes his head, brushing his thumb over Yeonjun’s hip. “Because I want to take care of you first,” he says simply, as if he isn’t driving Yeonjun insane by saying something like that.
The words settle heavily in Yeonjun’s chest, warmth spreading outward as he stares up at Soobin, momentarily at a loss for words. He huffs softly, turning his head to hide his face in the pillow as he mumbles, “Still stupid.”
Soobin only laughs again, leaning down to kiss the side of Yeonjun’s neck, his hands sliding lower. “Sure it is.”
Soobin’s lips trail along Yeonjun’s neck, lingering at the sensitive spots just below his jaw and along his collarbones. The elder’s hands twist into the sheets beneath him as he fights the urge to squirm, his body already hyperaware of every touch. And then his boyfriend’s hand shifts lower, slipping beneath his thighs. This time, Soobin doesn’t stop at the damp lace. His fingers glide beneath it, brushing directly against the heated skin there.
Yeonjun only hums.
But before he knows it, Soobin pulls back slightly, sitting back on his heels with an unreadable look in his eyes. Yeonjun blinks up at him, dazed and confused, until, without warning, Soobin grabs the delicate lace of the underwear and rips it apart in one clean motion.
The sound of tearing fabric is shockingly loud in the quiet room, and Yeonjun jerks in surprise, his mouth falling open as he stares at Soobin in wide-eyed disbelief.
“What the fuck?! Wasn’t that expensive?”
“It was in the way,” Soobin shrugs, completely unbothered, tossing the shredded lace aside like it’s nothing. “I’ll buy you new ones,” he says smoothly, leaning down again until their faces are mere inches apart. His lips curl into a faint smirk as he lowers himself further, pressing his tongue flat against Yeonjun’s lips in one slow, deliberate stroke.
The action leaves Yeonjun stunned, his breath catching as his cheeks burn crimson. “You’re insane.”
He likes it though, and judging by the big smirk on Soobin’s lips, the younger knew it, too.
The younger slides two fingers against his lips and presses just slightly.
“Open up, baby,” Soobin whispers, his tone soft yet commanding.
Yeonjun’s lips part instinctively, his face flushed as his pulse pounds in his ears. He feels the heat in Soobin’s gaze as the younger watches him, his eyes dark and half-lidded with anticipation. Soobin slides his fingers into Yeonjun’s mouth, just enough to feel the wet heat of his tongue as it presses against them.
“There you go,” Soobin murmurs, his free hand still resting against Yeonjun’s thigh, his thumb brushing faintly against his skin. His lips quirk into a faint smirk as Yeonjun’s tongue moves hesitantly over his fingers. “Good job,” the younger murmurs again, his voice dripping with praise as his other hand shifts higher, brushing closer to where Yeonjun feels like he’s burning from the inside out.
The words hit Yeonjun like a punch, his body jolting faintly in response. He lets out a muffled sound around Soobin’s fingers, his thighs twitching slightly as Soobin leans down again, his breath ghosting over Yeonjun’s ear.
“You think they’re wet enough?”
Yeonjun’s head nods a little too enthusiastically at Soobin’s question, his tongue still swirling over the fingers in his mouth as his thighs twitch faintly under Soobin’s teasing hand. The movement makes Soobin chuckle.
“Eager, aren’t we?” Soobin murmurs, withdrawing his fingers from Yeonjun’s mouth. The elder whines softly at the loss, but Soobin leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to his flushed cheek, then to the tip of his nose.
“I love you,” Soobin whispers softly, the sincerity in his tone catching Yeonjun completely off guard.
Yeonjun blinks up at him, his chest tightening as his lower lip wobbles faintly. It’s such a strange moment for something so serious to slip out, but somehow, it also feels perfect. “I love you, too,” Yeonjun replies, his voice softer than usual, though it carries every ounce of warmth he feels spreading through his chest.
Soobin smiles at him, his expression tender as he leans in to kiss Yeonjun softly. It’s sweet and unhurried, a moment of intimacy that makes Yeonjun feel almost lightheaded.
But then he feels his dick screaming in need, and, of course, he ruins it.
“I’d love you more, though,” he says cheekily as Soobin pulls back, “if you’d finally put your dick inside me.”
Soobin freezes, his brows lifting as his lips twitch faintly, caught between amusement and exasperation. “Way to ruin the romance, Junie,” he mutters, his tone playfully scolding as he shakes his head.
Yeonjun only grins, completely unapologetic, before his hand slides down between them to wrap around Soobin’s length. The sudden touch makes Soobin’s breath hitch sharply, his composure slipping for just a moment as Yeonjun begins stroking him.
“Don’t be mad,” Yeonjun coos mockingly, batting his lashes dramatically as his grin widens. “I appreciate it, love, I really do,” he continues, his voice taking on an exaggeratedly sweet tone. “And I love you very dearly… more than the stars, more than the moon, more than life itself…” He pauses, his grin turning downright wicked as he swipes his thumb over the tip of Soobin’s length, smearing the wetness there. “But right now, I’m just too horny for romance.”
Soobin groans softly, rolling his eyes as his head tips back. “So annoying.”
“And I think you’re too,” Yeonjun adds smugly, his thumb pressing slightly harder against the sensitive head.
“Okay, you won,” Soobin exhales sharply, catching Yeonjun’s wrist and stilling his movements before leaning back down, his wet fingers sliding purposefully down between Yeonjun’s thighs. “Now, what do we say?”
Yeonjun’s answer comes instantly, “Please.”
He can’t wait any longer.
Soobin chuckles. “That’s right,” he nods. “my baby is a polite baby.”
Yeonjun’s thighs twitch as Soobin leans in, kissing him gently on the corner of his mouth, then down along his jaw. And then, without further delay, Yeonjun feels it. Soobin’s finger pressing against him, slow, as it begins to slip inside.
He gasps, his hands flying up to clutch at Soobin’s shoulders, his nails digging in slightly as his body tenses and then melts under the sensation. “S-Soobin,” he whimpers, his voice breaking slightly as he bites down on his lower lip.
“It’s okay,” Soobin murmurs, his free hand rubbing soothing circles into Yeonjun’s hip as his finger slides in deeper, curling slightly to test the reaction. “Just relax for me, Junie.”
Yeonjun nods weakly, his head tipping back against the pillow as his chest heaves. The stretch is sharp at first, but his boyfriend’s movements are careful, coaxing his body to adjust with every slow stroke. The heat spreads, low and insistent, until it’s all Yeonjun can focus on.
“It’s… it’s a lot,” Yeonjun breathes, his words trembling as his thighs quiver on either side of Soobin. Because even though he already knows, and they’ve done this before, he always forgets how long his fingers are, how big his di…
Soobin hums softly, leaning down to press a kiss just above Yeonjun’s collarbone. “I know,” he murmurs soothingly. “You’re doing so well, though. Just breathe for me, baby.”
Yeonjun tries, his breaths coming shallow and shaky, but when Soobin crooks his finger just slightly, brushing against something that sends a jolt of electricity through his body, a broken moan escapes him instead.
“There,” Soobin says softly, almost to himself, his lips curling into a faint smile as he repeats the motion, drawing another trembling sound from Yeonjun. “You like that, don’t you?”
“Y-yes,” Yeonjun stammers, his voice high and shaky, his hands tightening on Soobin’s shoulders. “God, Soobin…”
“Shh, I’ve got you,” Soobin whispers, adding a second finger now, slow and deliberate as he stretches Yeonjun further. The pressure builds, sharp and overwhelming at first, but then it shifts, melting into something deeper, something that makes Yeonjun’s toes curl and his hips jerk up instinctively.
Yeonjun’s breath catches, his head rolling to the side as his body trembles. “It feels… fuck… it feels good,” he admits, the words spilling out before he can stop them.
Soobin’s grin widens slightly, his fingers scissoring carefully inside him as he leans down to press a kiss to Yeonjun’s flushed cheek. “I know,” he murmurs, his voice full of praise. “I can see that. You look so pretty, when you’re feeling good.”
Yeonjun whines at the words.
“Soobin… please,” Yeonjun whimpers again, his voice breaking as his hips roll upward, desperate for more. “I need…”
“I know what you need,” Soobin interrupts gently, his thumb brushing over Yeonjun’s hip as his fingers curl inside him one last time, coaxing another broken moan from his lips. “Just let me get you ready, baby. I want to make sure you feel good.”
Yeonjun nods frantically, his head tipping back as his thighs tighten around Soobin’s waist. “I do… I feel so good…” His words dissolve into a moan as Soobin’s fingers twist just slightly, stroking him from the inside with a precision that makes Yeonjun see stars.
“You’re amazing,” Soobin whispers, his voice low and full of warmth as he leans down to kiss Yeonjun again, swallowing the soft, desperate sounds spilling from his lips.
The elder melts into the kiss, his hands sliding up to tangle in Soobin’s hair as his body rocks against the younger’s touch, his nerves alight with every slow, deliberate motion. By the time Soobin finally pulls his fingers free, Yeonjun feels like he’s floating, his body flushed and trembling, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looks up at Soobin with wide, glassy eyes.
“You’re ready, baby,” Soobin murmurs, brushing a strand of hair away from Yeonjun’s forehead before pressing a soft kiss there. “Are you okay?”
Yeonjun nods quickly, his voice shaking as he breathes out, “Yes. Just… don’t make me wait anymore.”
Soobin chuckles, the sound low and affectionate as he presses another kiss to Yeonjun’s lips. “Never,” he promises softly, his hands settling on Yeonjun’s hips as he positions himself. He leans forward again, brushing his lips against Yeonjun’s in a tender, reassuring kiss. His hands stay steady on Yeonjun’s hips, his thumbs stroking faint circles over the heated skin there. The warmth of his touch and the soft murmur of his voice as he whispers, “Tell me if it hurts too much.” send a shiver down Yeonjun’s spine.
Yeonjun watches with wide, half-lidded eyes as Soobin adjusts himself, his other hand moving to stroke himself a few times, adding more spit to ease the glide. The wet sound is enough to make Yeonjun’s cheeks burn hotter, his breath catching as he feels the blunt heat of Soobin pressing against him.
“You’re beautiful,” Soobin murmurs, his voice thick with both affection and desire as he begins to push forward.
The initial stretch pulls a sharp gasp from Yeonjun’s lips, his body tensing instinctively before he forces himself to relax. He can feel the burn, the way Soobin fills him inch by inch. His nails scrape lightly against Soobin’s shoulders, leaving faint crescents behind as he clings to him.
“Soobin…” Yeonjun whimpers, his voice trembling as he squeezes his eyes shut. His legs wrap tighter around Soobin’s waist, pulling him closer as the heat builds, both overwhelming and exhilarating.
“I know, baby,” Soobin whispers, as he leans down to kiss Yeonjun’s temple. “Just a little more, okay?”
Yeonjun nods weakly, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts as he feels Soobin finally bottom out. The sensation is intense, making his toes curl as his head tips back against the pillow. His chest heaves as he adjusts to the fullness, the stretch fading into something deeper, something that makes his thighs tremble.
“Perfect,” Soobin whispers again, pressing kisses along Yeonjun’s jaw and down to his neck. “You feel so good, Junie. So warm…”
Yeonjun lets out a shaky moan, his hands sliding up to grip the nape of Soobin’s neck as his body arches instinctively, pressing closer to the heat of the other. “M-move,” he breathes, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Please, Soobin, move.”
Soobin doesn’t make him wait. They’re done with the teasing now. He pulls back slowly before sliding forward again in a smooth, measured motion. The glide is easier now, the added slickness making each movement fluid, sending waves of heat rolling through Yeonjun’s body.
The elder gasps, his nails dragging faintly down Soobin’s back as the pace begins to pick up. Every thrust pushes deeper, and when Soobin shifts slightly, angling his hips, it doesn't take long until he hits something that sends Yeonjun’s entire body jolting.
“There,” Yeonjun cries out, his voice cracking as his hands tighten against Soobin’s skin. His thighs tremble, and his eyes fly open, glassy and desperate. “God, right there… don’t stop…”
Soobin groans low in his throat, his hips snapping forward more firmly now, finding and hitting that spot over and over with devastating accuracy. “You sound like heaven.” he murmurs against Yeonjun’s ear, his voice rough and breathless.
Yeonjun can’t answer, can barely think. His mind is a haze of heat and pleasure, every nerve alight as Soobin’s pace grows faster, more confident.
And Yeonjun can’t stop saying his boyfriend’s name. “Soobin… Soobin…” Yeonjun chants it like a prayer, his voice trembling with every thrust. His nails dig into Soobin’s back, leaving faint red lines in their wake as his head tips back, baring his throat.
Soobin takes full advantage, leaning down to press his lips to Yeonjun’s neck, sucking and kissing along the sensitive skin there. The sharp drag of his teeth earns a broken whimper from Yeonjun, whose body jerks in response, his hips lifting to meet Soobin’s.
“You’re so good for me,” Soobin pulls back slightly to look at Yeonjun’s face. “So beautiful like this.”
Yeonjun’s chest heaves as he stares up at Soobin, his cheeks flushed and his lips parted. He can’t form words anymore, only sounds, soft, breathy cries that spill from his lips with every thrust. His vision blurs slightly as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, his body tightening around Soobin in desperate need.
“Soobin… please,” he finally chokes out. “I’m… ahh…” he moans, “so close…”
He doesn’t know how to describe it, the coiling heat low in his stomach, pulling tighter with every stroke. It feels like his body is on fire, every nerve alight, the burn almost too much and yet not enough. He can feel the slickness between them, the way his body reacts to every push and pull, his skin damp with sweat, his legs trembling as they cling tightly around Soobin’s waist.
Soobin groans, his pace faltering slightly as his own breathing grows heavier, his hips driving forward with more force. His hands grip Yeonjun’s hips tightly as he thrusts deep, hitting that perfect spot again and again until Yeonjun’s body arches sharply.
And Yeonjun can’t think anymore. His mind is a haze of white-hot sensation, his thoughts scattered and incoherent. All he can do is feel. The stretch, the pressure, the heat pooling low in his stomach until it feels like it’s about to snap.
“Soobin!” Yeonjun cries out, his voice loud and broken as his release hits him, his body trembling violently beneath Soobin’s weight.
His nails dig into Soobin’s skin and it must be painful, but the younger doesn’t complain. The elder gasps for air, his chest heaving as he moans brokenly, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his own heartbeat. His legs tighten around Soobin’s waist, locking him in place as he rides out the overwhelming waves of pleasure.
“Soobin…” he murmurs weakly, his voice barely above a whisper, trembling with the remnants of his high. His entire body feels boneless, spent, every nerve still tingling in the aftermath.
Soobin doesn’t stop. His hips keep moving, thrusting into Yeonjun with a steady, almost frantic rhythm, chasing the high that’s just out of reach. His breaths are uneven, hot against Yeonjun’s flushed skin, and his voice spills out in a low, wrecked stream of words.
“Baby… so perfect,” Soobin groans, his hands gripping Yeonjun’s hips firmly, keeping him in place as he drives deeper. “You feel so… ugh… good… god, you’re so pretty like this… so good, you did such a good job, baby.”
Yeonjun’s body feels heavy, yet impossibly light at the same time. His limbs tremble, spent and weak, and his chest heaves as he gasps for breath. The burn of overstimulation begins to creep in, the relentless drag of Soobin inside him sending sharp pulses of sensation through his oversensitive nerves. But it’s not unpleasant. It’s too much in the best way possible, the pressure teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure, leaving him squirming beneath Soobin’s weight.
Each thrust sends him sliding up the bed slightly, the friction of the sheets beneath him adding another layer to the overwhelming sensations. His legs are still locked around Soobin’s waist, his thighs trembling with the effort of holding him close. His hands still clutch at Soobin’s back, nails dragging faintly along the damp skin before one hand falls away, sliding down between them.
Yeonjun’s fingertips brush against the sticky warmth pooling on his stomach and chest. He swipes some of the mess onto his fingers, the heat of it a stark contrast to the cool air of the room. His chest flutters as he stares at his hand for a moment, dazed, before his gaze flickers up to meet the younger’s.
Soobin’s eyes are dark, blown wide with desperation and something deeper, more primal. His jaw tightens as his hips snap forward again, his gaze flickering between Yeonjun’s face and the slick, sticky mess on his fingers. The sight of Yeonjun lifting his hand to his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick the cum clean, nearly undoes him.
“Yeonjun!” Soobin groans, his voice trembling as his rhythm falters. His head dips forward, his forehead pressing against Yeonjun’s shoulder as his breaths come in short, ragged bursts.
Yeonjun hums softly around his fingers, the sound vibrating low in his throat as he tastes himself. The saltiness lingers on his tongue, mingling with the faint metallic tang of his cum, and the act itself sends a strange thrill through him. Embarrassment and boldness that makes his already flushed cheeks burn hotter. It’s not like he hasn’t done this before. And he knows very well how much Soobin loves it.
“Soobin,” he whispers, his voice barely audible as his free hand slides back up to tangle in Soobin’s hair, holding him close. He gently nibbles on the younger’s soft earlobe.
Soobin’s body tenses above him, his movements becoming erratic as his hips stutter. With a low, guttural moan, he thrusts deep one last time, his fingers digging into Yeonjun’s hips, probably leaving marks, as his own orgasm finally crashes over him.
Yeonjun gasps, his eyes fluttering shut as he feels the heat of Soobin’s release inside him, warm and thick, filling him completely. The sensation sends a new wave of shivers through his oversensitive body, leaving him trembling beneath the weight of Soobin’s collapse.
“God, Soobin,” Yeonjun breathes, his voice shaky as he lets his legs fall open, too weak to hold them up any longer. His entire body feels like it’s buzzing, every nerve still alight as the last remnants of his own pleasure mingle with the comforting weight of the younger above him.
Soobin stays there for a moment, his forehead still pressed against Yeonjun’s shoulder as he catches his breath. His hands loosen their grip on Yeonjun’s hips, sliding up instead to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer in a lazy, protective embrace.
The younger leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to Yeonjun’s temple. It’s followed by another, and then another, a flurry of soft, fleeting pecks scattered across his skin. Each kiss lands tenderly, on his cheeks, his jaw, down the curve of his neck, and along his collarbones. Yeonjun hums faintly, the afterglow wrapping around him like a warm blanket as his body relaxes beneath Soobin’s touch.
The sensation is comforting, grounding, despite the sticky, messy aftermath still clinging to his skin. Soobin’s kisses are unhurried, affection spilling into each press of his lips. Neither of them seems to care that the cum on Yeonjun’s chest and stomach smears between them, sticking to Soobin’s skin as well.
The younger pulls back slightly, his gaze flickering down to the mess they’ve made. A grin tugs at his lips, playful and a little wicked, as his hand moves down, his finger skimming lightly over Yeonjun’s abdomen.
Yeonjun watches through heavy-lidded eyes, too spent to argue, though a soft gasp escapes him when Soobin’s finger slides lower, teasing at his entrance. The sensation of Soobin’s finger pressing against him, combined with the heat of the liquid starting to trickle out, makes Yeonjun shiver.
“Soobin… what are you doing?” Yeonjun mutters, his voice half a plea and half an exasperated whine.
Soobin doesn’t stop, scooping up the warm, sticky evidence before pulling his finger back up. Without hesitation, he presses the tip of it to his lips, licking it clean with a casualness that makes Yeonjun’s face burn all over again.
“Really?” Yeonjun asks, rolling his eyes, though the corners of his lips twitch despite himself.
“You know how much I like it.” Soobin grins, holding his finger out in front of Yeonjun’s lips. “Your turn.”
Yeonjun glares at him weakly, but there’s no real heat behind it. He huffs, opening his mouth to take Soobin’s finger in with reluctant acceptance. His tongue swirls over it, tasting the saltiness and faint heat that lingers there, the messiness of it all strangely thrilling in a way he refuses to admit out loud.
Soobin watches with open admiration, his grin widening as Yeonjun pulls back, his lips slightly swollen. “I knew you’d like my present,” Soobin says smugly, his tone dripping with satisfaction.
Yeonjun rolls his eyes again, though his body betrays him as he cuddles closer to Soobin’s side, tucking his head against his shoulder. The warmth of Soobin’s skin against his own feels grounding, soothing, and Yeonjun lets himself relax further, his fingers tracing lazy patterns against the younger’s chest.
“I liked it,” Yeonjun admits after a beat, his voice soft. “But you destroyed it, idiot.”
Soobin chuckles, his hand sliding up to run through Yeonjun’s damp hair. His fingers move slowly, massaging Yeonjun’s scalp with a tenderness that makes the elder’s eyes flutter shut.
“You found it hot, though,” Soobin counters.
The elder doesn’t reply immediately, sulking faintly against Soobin’s shoulder as the younger’s fingers continue their soothing ministrations. But eventually, he lets out a resigned sigh, knowing there’s no use in denying it.
“I did,” he mutters, his cheeks heating slightly at the admission.
Soobin’s smirk is audible in his voice as he holds Yeonjun closer. “See?”
“It’s still destroyed,” Yeonjun points out, his voice tinged with petulance despite the contented way his body melts against Soobin’s side.
The younger chuckles, leaning down to press a quick kiss to Yeonjun’s cheek. “As I said, I’ll buy you a new one. On Valentine’s Day or something like that.”
Yeonjun’s brow furrows, his eyes opening to glare up at Soobin half-heartedly. “Valentine’s Day? That’s so far away.”
“When do you want it, then?” Soobin asks, his tone indulgent as he strokes the elder’s hair again.
Yeonjun doesn’t even need to think about it.
“Tomorrow.”
Soobin laughs, the sound warm and fond as he presses another kiss to Yeonjun’s forehead. “Tomorrow it is, then. One-day-after-Christmas present.”
Yeonjun smiles faintly, satisfied, as he closes his eyes again and burrows further into Soobin’s embrace.
“Okay,” Yeonjun murmurs, his voice soft and content. “Merry Christmas, Soobin.”
“Merry Christmas, Yeonjun.”
There is a peaceful pause.
Then Soobin decides to break it.
“Do you think your parents or siblings heard us? You were quite loud.”
“Oh fu…”
Yeonjun is going to kill Soobin.