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Riku was a patient man. He truly, truly was.
He had spent months mastering the art of the "lingering look" and the "accidental brush of shoulders," Daeyoung to catch on. But as he watched Daeyoung hum softly, completely absorbed in the games on his tablet, Riku realized that "patience" was just a polite word for suffering.
Being smitten with Daeyoung was easy; staying silent about it was becoming impossible. It was the way Daeyoung’s oversized shirt slipped just enough to show a collarbone, or the way he laughed at a joke Riku hadn't even finished telling. It was a constant, low-grade fever that Riku had been nursing for far too long.
Although it hadn’t been too long since they started officially dating. 4 months, to be exact.
For 120 days, Riku had played the part of the perfect, sweet boyfriend. He had endured the chaste hand-holding, the soft leans against Daeyoung’s sturdy shoulder, and the gentle, "goodnight" pecks on the cheek that always ended way too soon. Daeyoung was careful with him, treating him like something fragile, something to be protected. And Riku was starting to find it infuriating.
Four months of Daeyoung being "respectful" was four months too many.
Riku glanced at the way Daeyoung’s thick thighs were spread slightly in his jeans as he focused on the screen, his large hands dwarfing the controller. The sheer physical presence of the man was enough to make Riku’s blood simmer, yet Daeyoung sat there completely unaware that he was being hunted.
Riku wasn’t a virgin, and Daeyoung wasn’t either. They’ve had past relationships with both men and women, which meant they had previous experiences with sex. The thing is, Riku is pretty sure his boyfriend has never bottomed before. Contrary to what people assume of him, Riku likes to top, basically all the time. And he wanted to show Daeyoung how good he could make him feel.
They had touched each other before, sure. It wouldn’t be the first time Riku sees his boyfriend naked and vice versa. The issue is, they had never gotten all the way. And when they did do stuff, it was never clear who was in control… And Riku couldn’t keep holding back. The mere prospect of his boyfriend’s face all flushed from the feeling of being filled up is something Riku couldn’t keep waiting for.
The "anniversary" of their fourth month wasn't just a milestone to Riku anymore; it was an expiration date on his self-restraint. He was tired of being the "small" one who needed to be handled with care. He wanted to show Daeyoung exactly what those four months of built-up frustration felt like, and he had to do it before the game reached the next level. Every time Daeyoung looked at him with those clear, innocent eyes, oblivious to the way Riku’s heart was hammering against his ribs, the thread of Riku's self-control snapped a little more. He was done waiting for a sign. He was ready to make one.
The light from the TV flickered across Daeyoung’s face, casting sharp shadows over his jawline. They were supposed to be focused on the boss fight, but Riku hadn't looked at the screen in five minutes. He was too focused on Daeyoung’s lips, the way his adam’s apple bobbed each time he swallowed. His focused gaze, his hands… Gosh. What wouldn’t Riku give to get a taste of his lips right now?
Daeyoung leaned back, his broad shoulders taking up more than his fair share of the sofa. "Riku, watch out! You’re just standing there," he laughed, his voice deep and vibrating in the small space between them. When Riku didn't respond, Daeyoung shifted, bumping his shoulder heavily against Riku’s. It was a casual display of strength, a playful nudge that nearly sent Riku sideways.
"Earth to Riku?" Daeyoung teased. He reached over, his large hand coming down to ruffle Riku’s hair.
Riku went rigid. He hated how easily Daeyoung could tower over him, how those long fingers felt against his scalp, and most of all, how innocent the gesture was. To Daeyoung, this was just two boyfriends hanging out. To Riku, it it was the final straw.
Riku dropped his controller. It clattered onto the coffee table, the plastic sound sharp in the quiet room.
"I'm bored of the game," Riku said, his voice lower than usual.Daeyoung paused, thumb hovering over the joystick. He turned his head, looking down at Riku with a confused, soft expression. "Already? We almost had him. Do you want to switch to—"
"I want you to shut up," Riku interrupted.
Daeyoung’s eyes widened, a grin starting to pull at the corner of his mouth as if he thought Riku was joking. "Wow, okay. Someone’s cranky. You want to arm wrestle for the remote or something? You know I’ll win."
Riku didn’t give him the chance to finish whatever joke was forming on his lips. He lunged forward, closing the gap so suddenly that the back of Daeyoung’s head thudded against the sofa cushions.
The kiss wasn't sweet, and it certainly wasn't "four-months-of-dating" gentle. It was hard, desperate, and demanding, a physical manifestation of every bit of patience Riku had shredded over the last hour. Riku’s teeth grazed Daeyoung’s lower lip, his hands tangling into the collar of Daeyoung’s shirt to pull him even closer, refusing to let him move.
Daeyoung let out a muffled sound of surprise against Riku’s mouth, his eyes flying wide for a split second before the shock began to melt into a hazy, instinctive heat. His large, heavy hands came up, finding Riku’s waist and gripping tight, his fingers digging into the fabric of Riku’s hoodie to pull him down onto his lap, subconsciously trying to regain the lead.
The moment Riku felt those hands anchoring him, he tore himself away. He stopped mid-kiss, his breathing ragged and his lips swollen. He stared down at Daeyoung, who looked completely dazed, his head still tilted back against the couch, his grip still firm on Riku’s waist as if he were waiting for the second round.
"No," Riku snapped, his voice sharp and thick with friction.
He looked down at Daeyoung’s hands, then back up into those confused, dark eyes. With a sudden burst of strength, Riku swiped Daeyoung’s hands off his waist, shoving them back toward the cushions, pinning him.
"That’s not the way I want it," Riku hissed, his eyes narrowed. "Stop trying to hold me like I’m going to break, Daeyoung. That’s not what this is."
Daeyoung froze, his arms pinned back against the cushions by Riku’s surprisingly firm grip. He looked up at Riku, his chest heaving as he tried to process the shift in the air. The "gentle" boyfriend he thought he knew had vanished, replaced by someone with fire in his eyes and a sharp edge to his voice. "Riku..." Daeyoung started, his voice a low, uncertain rumble. He blinked, his eyes scanning Riku’s face, searching for the joke, but finding only a dark, simmering intensity. "I didn't... I thought you liked it when I—"
"You thought I liked being coddled?" Riku cut him off, leaning down until their noses almost touched.
Daeyoung swallowed hard. He could feel the strength in Riku’s hands, the way he was leaning his entire body weight into the hold to keep Daeyoung down. For the first time, Daeyoung didn't feel like the "protector" in the relationship. He felt like the one being cornered.
A slow flush began to creep up Daeyoung’s neck, reaching his ears. He wasn't just surprised anymore; he was becoming flustered. His pulse hammered under Riku’s palms. He looked down at Riku's lips, then back up, his expression softening into something more vulnerable, more yielding.
"I'm sorry," Daeyoung whispered, his voice losing its usual confident edge. He went limp against the sofa, finally letting go of the urge to take the lead. He let his head fall back, exposing the long line of his throat, his gaze fixed on Riku with a mixture of submission and dawning heat. "I didn't realize you wanted... this."
He let out a shaky breath, his large frame settling into the cushions. "Okay. Show me. How do you want it?"
Riku didn’t wait for another word. The sight of Daeyoung finally going still beneath him, the wide-eyed, breathless surrender of a man twice his size was the only permission he needed.
He let go of Daeyoung’s wrists, but only to plant his hands firmly on the sofa on either side of Daeyoung’s head, effectively caging him in. Riku leaned down, burying his face in the crook of Daeyoung's neck. The scent of Daeyoung’s skin, warm and mixed with the faint citrus of his shampoo, hit Riku like a physical blow.
He didn't start with a soft kiss. He started with a bite.
Daeyoung let out a sharp, choked-off gasp, his back arching off the cushions as Riku’s teeth grazed the sensitive skin just below his jaw. Riku followed the bite with a heavy, dragging lick, and then he began to suck. Hard. He wanted to see the evidence of his ownership on that pale skin; he wanted everyone to see that the "tall, strong" member of the group belonged to him.
"Riku—ah," Daeyoung groaned, his hands hovering in the air, twitching with the urge to touch, to grab, to do something. But he kept them back, remembering Riku’s warning. His fingers fisted into the sofa fabric instead, his knuckles turning white as Riku moved lower, finding the pulse point that was thudding like a drum.
Riku worked with a focused, quiet ferocity. He moved his mouth an inch to the side and started again, his tongue swirling against a fresh patch of skin before dragging his teeth across it. He could feel the vibrations of Daeyoung’s shaky breaths against his lips.
"Stay still," Riku murmured against his skin, his voice vibrating deep in Daeyoung’s chest.
He looked up for a brief second, seeing the dark red marks he’d already bloomed across Daeyoung's neck: vibrant, messy, and undeniable. Daeyoung’s eyes were hooded, his head rolled back, his mouth slightly open as he stared at the ceiling, completely undone by the smaller man hovering over him. The hard between both of their legs was hard to ignore.
The patience was officially gone. Riku looked at the marks he’d made and felt a surge of pure, dark satisfaction. He wasn't just dating Daeyoung anymore; he was taking him.
The friction between them was driving Daeyoung crazy. A heavy, pulsing weight made the air in the living room feel thick. Daeyoung was a mess beneath him. His skin flushed, his breathing erratic, and the raw sensation of Riku’s mouth on his neck had pushed him past the point of just lying still.
Driven by a sudden, desperate instinct, Daeyoung’s hips hitched upward. He shifted his weight, trying to close the gap, and began to grind tentatively against Riku. He let out a low, needy sound, his large frame seeking out the friction he so badly craved. His hands finally made a move, reaching up to blindly find Riku’s hips, wanting to pull him down and lock him into the rhythm.
Riku didn't let him.
The second he felt Daeyoung move, Riku went rigid. He slammed his palms into Daeyoung’s chest, the force of it startling the taller man into stillness.
"I told you," Riku breathed, his voice dropping to a dangerous, icy whisper. He didn't move his hands; he kept them pressed hard against Daeyoung’s sternum, pinning him back down into the sofa cushions.
Daeyoung looked up, his eyes glassy and clouded with heat, his chest heaving under Riku’s touch. "Riku... please... it’s—"
"I didn't say you could move," Riku interrupted, his eyes boring into Daeyoung’s. He watched as a fresh wave of shock and heat washed over Daeyoung’s face. "You don’t get to decide the pace. You don’t get to try and take over. I am in control of this, Daeyoung. Do you understand?"
Riku leaned in closer, his knees boxing in Daeyoung’s thighs, making sure his larger boyfriend felt every bit of the physical restriction. He waited, hovering just inches from Daeyoung's face, refusing to continue until he saw the moment Daeyoung truly surrendered.
"Say it," Riku commanded. "Tell me you understand."
Daeyoung’s head thrashed once against the cushion, a desperate, jerky movement. He looked like he was short-circuiting: The person he usually looked after was currently dismantling him with a single look. He looked down at Riku’s hands on his chest, then back up at Riku’s narrowed, dark eyes.
"I... I understand," Daeyoung rasped, his voice breaking. He forced his hands to fall away from Riku’s hips, letting them hit the sofa with a dull thud. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, his entire body trembling from the effort of staying still when every nerve was screaming for more. "I’m sorry. I won’t move. Just... don’t stop."
Riku smirked. The sight of Daeyoung, usually so confident and physically dominant, now reduced to a shivering mess of compliance, was better than any videogame high score. Riku shifted his weight, intentionally pressing his center down against Daeyoung’s thigh just once. A sharp reminder of what Daeyoung was being denied, before pulling back.
"Good," Riku whispered.
He reached down and grabbed the hem of Daeyoung’s oversized hoodie. "Sit up. Take this off. Slowly."
Daeyoung didn't hesitate. He sat up, his movements slightly clumsy because his hands were shaking so much. He pulled the fabric over his head, tossing it somewhere onto the floor. As he emerged from the fabric, his hair was messy and his skin was glowing with a feverish heat, the marks Riku had left on his neck standing out like red ink on white paper.
He sat there, chest bare and broad, shoulders hunched forward slightly as he looked up at Riku from beneath his bangs. He looked huge, yet completely at Riku’s mercy.
"Hands behind your head," Riku ordered, his voice steady and cold. "And don't you dare move them unless I tell you to."
Daeyoung swallowed hard, the movement of his throat tight and visible. He obeyed, lacing his fingers behind his head, pulling his elbows back. The pose arched his chest forward, making him look even more exposed. He looked like a masterpiece waiting to be ruined, and Riku was finally ready to start the work.
Riku’s gaze swept over Daeyoung’s chest, taking in the way his ribcage expanded and contracted with every shallow, terrified breath. The broad expanse of skin was a blank canvas, and Riku was finished with the neck. He wanted to see how Daeyoung reacted when the attention moved lower.
Riku crawled forward, his knees slotting between Daeyoung’s trembling thighs. He didn't rush. He watched Daeyoung’s eyes track him, wide and dark, as Riku leaned down.
He started by dragging his tongue in a slow, wet line from the hollow of Daeyoung’s throat straight down to his sternum. Daeyoung let out a high, broken whimper, his knuckles white where they were laced behind his head. He was following the rules, staying perfectly still, but his muscles were jumping under Riku’s touch.
Riku circled one nipple with his tongue, teasing the edge of it until he felt the muscle tighten and peak. Then, without warning, he took the sensitive bud into his mouth and sucked.
"Riku!" Daeyoung cried out, his back snapping into a sharp arch. His elbows jerked forward instinctively, but he caught himself, forcing his hands back against the sofa cushions, a strangled groan dying in his throat.
Riku didn't let up. He used his tongue to swirl around the tip before pulling back and biting down. Just enough to be mean, just enough to make Daeyoung’s toes curl into the carpet. He moved to the other side, repeating the process with a slow, agonizing deliberation. He could hear Daeyoung’s teeth grinding together, the sound of someone trying desperately not to lose control.
"You like that, Daeyoung?" Riku murmured, his breath hot and damp against the wet skin. He didn't wait for an answer. He used his hands to squeeze Daeyoung’s sides, his thumbs digging into the firm muscle of his waist.
He looked up, catching Daeyoung’s gaze. The taller boy was biting his lip so hard it was turning white, his face flushed a deep, beautiful crimson. He looked completely wrecked, his strength useless against the focused, sharp hunger of the boy pinning him down.
Riku pulled back just far enough to admire his handiwork. Daeyoung’s chest was heaving, glistening where Riku’s mouth had been, and his skin was a map of flushed pink and deep red. The sight of Daeyoung, arms still locked behind his head, muscles trembling with the effort of obedience made Riku’s own pulse spike.
"You’re doing so well, Daeyoung-ah," Riku whispered, his voice dripping with a mock-sweetness that felt like a challenge.
He reached for the button of Daeyoung’s jeans. The metallic click of the fastener undoing seemed to echo in the quiet living room, louder than the TV they had long since forgotten. Daeyoung’s breath hitched, a sharp, audible intake of air that told Riku exactly how close to the edge he was.
"Please," Daeyoung rasped, his eyes finally fluttering open to look at Riku. They were hazy, desperate, and pleading. "Riku, I can't... I’m going to..."
"You're going to do exactly what I tell you," Riku countered. He gripped the zipper, but didn't pull it down yet. Instead, he leaned all his weight forward, pressing himself firmly against Daeyoung’s heat. He felt the taller boy shudder violently under him.
Riku leaned in close to his ear, his lips brushing the shell of it. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No," Daeyoung groaned, his head falling forward to rest against Riku’s shoulder, his forehead damp with sweat. "Don't stop. Don't ever stop."
Riku smiled, a sharp, triumphant curve of his lips. He slowly slid the zipper down, the sound grating and slow. He could feel the raw power in Daeyoung’s legs, the sheer strength he was holding back just to stay in this position for him. It was intoxicating.
"Good. Then keep your hands exactly where they are," Riku commanded, his hand sliding inside the waistband. "I want to see your face when I take you the rest of the way."
Riku’s hand slid lower, and the second his palm made contact, Daeyoung’s eyes blew wide, a shattered sound escaping his throat. He looked like he was vibrating, his entire muscular frame held in a state of agonizing tension.
"Riku, please," Daeyoung choked out, his voice cracking. "I can’t—I can’t stay still like this."
"Yes, you can," Riku countered, his voice steady and cold. He wrapped his fingers around Daeyoung’s length, his grip firm and uncompromising through his boxers. He started a slow, deliberate motion, making sure to catch every sensitive nerve. "You’ve spent four months being the 'strong' one, the one in charge. Now you’re going to sit there and let me do whatever I want to you."
He increased the pace just a fraction, watching with a dark sense of pride as Daeyoung’s head fell back against the sofa again. The taller boy’s neck was corded with tension, the red marks Riku had left earlier standing out vividly against his straining skin.
Daeyoung’s fingers were white-knuckled where they were still laced behind his head. He was fighting every instinct he had to reach down and take over, to flip Riku over and reclaim his dominance. But he didn't. He stayed pinned, his chest heaving, his eyes squeezed shut as he succumbed to the friction.
Riku’s hand didn't stray far, his fingers sliding beneath the waistband of Daeyoung’s underwear. The thin fabric was the only thing left between them, and the heat radiating from Daeyoung was staggering. Riku moved his palm slowly, letting the friction of the cotton do the work, watching as Daeyoung’s hips gave a helpless, involuntary twitch.
"Riku... please," Daeyoung whined, his voice a broken mess of pride and desperation. He was trembling so hard the couch was practically shaking with him. "I can't- get rid of it. Please."
Riku let out a low, hum of amusement. He liked seeing Daeyoung like this… Reduced to begging for the simplest things. "You're losing your mind over a little bit of fabric? You really are pathetic for me, aren't you?"
Without waiting for an answer, Riku hooked his thumbs into the elastic and peeled the underwear down in one swift, ruthless motion. The air hit Daeyoung’s damp skin, and he let out a strangled sob of relief, his legs falling open in a complete, vulnerable surrender.
Now that there was nothing left to hide, Riku took him in his hand. The contact was electric. Daeyoung’s head thrashed against the cushions, his hands still locked behind his head because he was too terrified to break Riku’s rules.
"Riku, I need—I want you. All the way. Please," Daeyoung begged, his eyes searching Riku’s with a raw, pleading honesty. "Not here. Not like this. Take me to the bed. I want you to... I want you to take everything."
Riku paused, his thumb tracing the very top of Daeyoung's length, making the taller boy gasp and shudder. He looked at the wreckage he had made of his boyfriend: the marks on his neck, the flushed chest, the tear-filled eyes, and decided he had played enough in the living room.
"Fine," Riku whispered, finally letting go and standing up. He looked down at Daeyoung, who looked cold the second the contact was broken. "Get up. Walk to the bedroom. And don't you dare put your clothes back on."
Daeyoung scrambled to his feet, stumbling slightly as he tried to find his balance. He didn't even look for his hoodie; he just turned and headed for the bedroom, his tall, athletic frame moving with a newfound submissiveness. Riku followed close behind, watching the way Daeyoung’s broad shoulders slumped in anticipation, knowing that the real "taking" was only just beginning.
The bedroom was dimly lit, the shadows stretching long across the sheets as Daeyoung stood by the edge of the bed, looking larger than life and yet completely vulnerable. Riku didn't give him a second to breathe. He pushed Daeyoung down onto the mattress, the springs creaking under the weight of the taller man’s frame.
"Lay on your stomach," Riku commanded, his voice devoid of the sweetness he usually used. "Pillows under your hips. Now."
Daeyoung obeyed instantly, his movements hurried. He buried his face in the duvet, his broad back a landscape of muscle and tension, his skin still flushed from the living room. Riku reached for the nightstand, grabbing a bottle of lubricant. The click of the cap was the only sound in the room besides Daeyoung’s heavy, jagged breathing.
Riku knelt on the bed, straddling Daeyoung’s thick thighs. He poured a generous amount of the cool liquid onto his fingers and then pressed his hand against the small of Daeyoung's back, feeling the way the taller boy jumped at the contact.
"Stay still for me," Riku murmured, leaning down so his chest pressed against Daeyoung’s shoulder blades.
He reached down, his fingers finding the entrance to Daeyoung’s heat. The first touch of his fingertip made Daeyoung let out a muffled, high-pitched sound into the pillow. He was tight, untouched and wound up like a spring. The power Riku had over his boyfriend felt amazing. Even the fact that he was clothed and Daeyoung was naked, gave Daeyoung a reminder of who's in charge.
"R-Riku..." Daeyoung’s voice was small, muffled by the fabric.
"Shh," Riku hissed, slowly pressing one finger inside.
Daeyoung’s fingers clawed at the bedsheets, his knuckles turning white as his body instinctively tried to tense up against the intrusion. He was so much bigger than Riku, his muscles so much more defined, yet he lay there taking every inch of the preparation, his body yielding to Riku’s will.
Riku was patient—ironically, back to being patient—but this time it was calculated. He added a second finger, scissoring them slowly to stretch Daeyoung out, feeling the internal muscles quiver and eventually begin to relax. He leaned down, biting the skin of Daeyoung’s shoulder, right over the muscle, as he felt Daeyoung finally start to open up for him. Daeyoung couldn’t help but squeak out Riku’s name at the foreign feeling.
"You're so tight, Daeyoung-ah," Riku whispered into his ear, his voice dark with satisfaction. "It’s like you’ve been waiting four months just for this. Are you ready for me to stop playing around?"
A shaky, desperate nod was all the answer Riku needed. He could feel that Daeyoung was prepped, his body soft and pleading for the friction only Riku could provide. Riku withdrew his fingers, the sound of the lubricant slick and wet, and reached for his own protection. The wait was officially over.
Riku took off his shirt, revealing himself to Daeyoung. It wasn’t a first for him, but it was a first in this sort of context. Riku was despertate, taking off his clothes as fast as he could as the mere thought of finally being inside Daeyoung was eating him alive.
Riku didn’t want Daeyoung to notice, but he was just as (if not more) eager than him. He pulled out a condom box from his nightstand, something he had been saving for a special moment, which seemed to have come. Daeyoung seemed too focused on his thoughts, so much that he couldn’t see Riku’s hands shaking from excitement as he took it out of the box and opened it. He slid the condom onto his length and took a deep breath.
He didn't waste another second. He positioned himself, the contrast of his frame against Daeyoung’s broad back looking almost clinical in its dominance. “Are you ready?” he asked, almost in a whisper. An energetic nod accompanied by a needy face was the confirmation he needed. When he pushed forward, sinking into that heat for the first time, Daeyoung let out a sound that was half-sob, half-shout, his forehead digging deep into the mattress.
"There you go," Riku hummed, his voice low and vibrating with a dark kind of pride. He didn't move immediately, letting Daeyoung adjust to the sheer fullness of him. He reached forward, tangling his fingers into Daeyoung's messy hair and pulling his head back just enough so he could whisper right into his ear. "Such a good boy, Daeyoung-ah. Look at how well you're taking me."
Daeyoung’s breath hitched at the praise. His back arched, his muscles rippling under the skin as he tried to find some rhythm, but he remembered the rules. He stayed still, trembling like a leaf, waiting for Riku to give him more.
"Riku... please," Daeyoung whimpered, his eyes squeezed shut, a stray tear sliding down his cheek.
"Do you like being my good boy?" Riku asked, finally beginning to move. Each thrust was slow, deep, and deliberate, designed to make Daeyoung feel every single inch. "Do you like knowing that I'm the only one who gets to see you like this? All broken and needy?"
"Yes... ah! Yes, Riku," Daeyoung gasped, his voice breaking into a repetitive, breathless whine. Every time Riku called him a 'good boy,' Daeyoung’s body seemed to melt further, his resistance crumbling until he was nothing but a soft, yielding mess beneath Riku’s weight.
Riku picked up the pace, his hands moving from Daeyoung's hair to grip his shoulders, digging in to keep him anchored. "That’s it. Just like that. Keep taking it for me, puppy. Show me how much you want it."
The "puppy" comment sent Daeyoung over the edge. He let out a low, guttural whine, his tailbone twitching as he instinctively tried to push back against Riku, seeking more friction, more praise, more of the crushing weight that made him feel like he finally belonged to someone.
"Good boy," Riku repeated, his own voice finally losing its cool edge as he neared his limit. He leaned down, his chest slick with sweat against Daeyoung’s back, pressing him flat into the bed. "Such a good, beautiful boy. You're doing so well for me. I love you, baby."
The bedroom was filled with the sound of Riku’s steady, rhythmic thrusts and Daeyoung’s high, needy whimpers. The power dynamic was absolute; despite the physical size difference, there was no doubt who was in charge. Riku had spent four months waiting for this, and as he felt Daeyoung’s body tighten around him in a final, desperate climax, he knew he’d never go back to being "patient" again.
Riku shifted his weight, his knees digging into the mattress on either side of Daeyoung’s heavy, muscular thighs. He reached down, his hand sliding under Daeyoung’s stomach to find him, wrapping his fingers around the length that was already leaking and desperate.
The physical contrast between them was fascinating. While Daeyoung was undeniably longer, a testament to his height and stature, Riku’s own girth was what filled Daeyoung so completely. Riku felt a surge of possessive heat as he realized that while Daeyoung might be the "bigger" man in the eyes of the world, Riku was the one who was built to dominate this space.
"You're so sensitive," Riku hissed, his thumb dragging over the head of Daeyoung’s member as he began to pound into him with a relentless, punishing rhythm. "Does it feel good when I do this, puppy?"
Daeyoung’s response was a shattered, high-pitched keening sound. Riku’s hand was moving in perfect synchronization with his hips, a double assault of friction that left Daeyoung with nowhere to hide. Every time Riku bottomed out, his hand would reach the base of Daeyoung's length, making the taller man’s entire body go taut and rigid.
"Answer me," Riku commanded, the thick sound of their bodies colliding filling the room. "Tell me how good it feels to have me take care of you."
"So good- ah! Riku, please, it's too much!" Daeyoung sobbed into the pillow, his fingers clawing at the headboard, his knuckles white. The praise was hitting just as hard as the physical sensation. Being called a 'good boy' while Riku used his hands and body to thoroughly wreck him was more than his brain could handle.
Riku didn't slow down. He thrived on the sound of Daeyoung’s undoing. He gripped Daeyoung’s shoulder with his free hand, digging his nails in to keep him from moving away from the intensity.
"You're such a good boy for taking all of this," Riku whispered, his voice dark and honey-thick with satisfaction. "You stay right here and take every bit of it..."
Daeyoung couldn't even form words anymore; he could only whine, a soft, repetitive sound that vibrated through the bed as he succumbed to the overwhelming rhythm Riku had set. He was completely trapped between the mattress and Riku’s thickness, his pride long gone, replaced by a desperate, pup-like need to please the man currently claiming him.
The tension in the room reached a fever pitch, the air thick with the scent of sweat and the desperate, rhythmic sounds of Riku’s dominance. Daeyoung was a beautiful wreck beneath him, his broad back slick and his muscles twitching with every heavy, thick thrust Riku delivered. Riku slowed the pace down suddenly, a cruel, calculated shift that made Daeyoung’s head snap back, his eyes searching for Riku’s in the dark. Riku’s hand, which had been working Daeyoung’s length with such focused intent, stilled completely.
"R-Riku?" Daeyoung’s voice was a shattered whisper, his chest heaving. "Why did you… why did you stop?"
Riku leaned down, his chest pressing against Daeyoung’s shoulder blades, his lips brushing against the shell of Daeyoung’s ear. "I think you’ve forgotten your place, puppy. You look like you're waiting for something. Are you waiting for me to let you finish?"
Daeyoung let out a choked, desperate sob, his forehead dropping back into the mattress. The denial was physical agony. "Please," he whimpered, his hips giving a helpless, tiny hitch that Riku immediately suppressed by pinning him down harder. "Please, Riku. I can't… I’m right there. I’m going to break."
"Then ask for it," Riku commanded, his voice dropping to a low, velvet growl. He didn't move an inch, letting the weight of his thickness sit inside Daeyoung, tantalizingly still. "Ask me like a good boy."
"Please, Master Riku… please let me," Daeyoung begged, the words tumbling out of him in a rush of pure, unadulterated need. He was trembling so violently the bedframe was rattling. "I’m your good boy, right? Please… I need you to finish me. I want to come for you. Please."
Riku’s pupils blown wide at the sight of the taller, stronger man reduced to such a raw state of supplication. The satisfaction was absolute.
"Good boy," Riku whispered, and the praise seemed to snap the last thread of Daeyoung’s control.
Riku didn't hold back anymore. He slammed back into a frantic, bruising pace, his hand moving on Daeyoung with a blur of friction. He watched as Daeyoung’s eyes rolled back, his mouth falling open in a silent scream of pleasure.
"That’s it, baby…" Riku hissed, his own voice breaking as he reached his limit.
With one final deep surge, they both came apart. A loud, guttural cry tore from Daeyoung’s throat as he spent himself against the sheets, his body arching in a series of violent, beautiful tremors. Riku followed a second later, his own release hitting him like a wave, pinning Daeyoung down into the mattress as they both collapsed into the quiet, heavy aftermath of the four-month wait finally being over.
The heavy silence that followed was broken only by the sound of their synchronized, ragged breathing. Riku collapsed onto Daeyoung’s chest for a moment.
Slowly, Riku shifted, rolling off to the side and pulling Daeyoung with him. The taller man moved like putty, his limbs heavy and relaxed, a far cry from the tense, trembling mess he’d been secondsago. Daeyoung turned onto his side, his eyes still a little glassy as he looked at Riku, a dazed, lopsided grin spreading across his face.
"Wow..." Daeyoung rasped, his voice sounding like it had been dragged over gravel. He reached out a shaky hand, brushing Riku’s damp bangs away from his forehead. "Riku... I seriously didn't know you had that in you. I thought-I mean, I knew you were amazing, but that? I truly, truly love you."
Riku just smirked, the sharp, possessive glint still lingering in his eyes. He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Daeyoung’s swollen lips, a stark contrast to the biting and bruising from before. "I told you. I was tired of being patient. And, love ya too."
"Note taken," Daeyoung laughed breathlessly. "Very, very noted."
After a few minutes of just basking in the quiet, the physical exertion caught up with them. "I’m starving," Daeyoung admitted, finally sitting up and stretching, his broad shoulders popping. He didn't even bother looking for a shirt, just padding out to the kitchen and returning with a bag of chips and two sodas.
They sat cross-legged on the bed, sharing the snacks in a comfortable, domestic silence that felt earned. The intensity of the night had settled into a warm, post-glow hum.
Daeyoung reached for his phone, which had been buzzing incessantly on the nightstand. He tapped the screen and immediately choked on a chip, letting out a panicked, half-strangled laugh.
"What?" Riku asked, leaning over his shoulder.
"The guys," Daeyoung groaned, turning the screen so Riku could see the group chat with their friends Sion, Yushi, Ryo and Sakuya. "Sion is literally blowing up my phone. He says if he hears one more thud against the shared wall he’s calling a team meeting tomorrow morning."
Riku took a slow sip of his soda, looking entirely unbothered.
Daeyoung chuckled, leaning back against the headboard and looking at the paused videogame screen still visible through the open bedroom door. "You know, we never did beat that boss. I think we were at 90% health?"
He looked back at Riku, his eyes softening with that familiar, goofy affection, but this time there was a new layer of understanding behind it. "But honestly? I think I prefer the game we played instead. Even if Sion kicks me out of the dorms tomorrow."