waveoffeelings
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Summary
From the moment he was born, there was never a moment in Jung Sungchan's life without Lee Chanyoung. Jung Sungchan was born in September, and Lee Chanyoung in March the following year. The six months where Jung Sungchan was absent from Lee Chanyoung's life—that might have been Jung Sungchan's only freedom. Both of them were only children. Their houses were close, and their mothers were close friends too, so as kids they were always stuck together, almost like siblings born a year apart. That, if anything, was the problem. Or maybe it was only a problem for one of them. The mothers hoped the two would grow up relying on each other, close like real brothers. Bullshit. Once he grew a little older, Lee Chanyoung stopped calling him hyung—except when he wanted something.
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“Do you want me to stop pleasuring you?” Taerae questions then, softly, not quite sure whether Matthew is playing with him, or if he’s serious.
“I mean, let me get you there too, hm? You like being in my lap so much, don’t you?”
Taerae swears they’re best friends. Nothing more, nothing less. He swears.
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Normally Gunwook loves watching his owner Taerae play video games. Loves watching the way the older focuses on every little detail while he plays. Today he doesn't hold such sentiment as he can't brush off the burning feeling inside of him that wants to hump Taerae's leg until he's satisfied. Gunwook's horny but he doesn't want to be a bad puppy, until he does.
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If Gunwook wasn’t rendered speechless, he would bite back, tell Taerae he should stop wearing those awfully tight shorts at home, too, because it wasn’t fair how pretty it looked, and his hand could never compare to how tight and plump and soft he imagined Taerae to be.
This was all part of a game he didn’t know they were playing, he figures. This cruel, cruel game of desire Gunwook didn’t know was mutual until now.
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Now that a good chunk of his clothes are in Taerae's bed, Gunwook was melting away.
What would Taerae do with his clothes? Would he slip them on? Would it provide him comfort? Would he press himself onto the pile of clothes and pretend that it was Gunwook himself?
The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to rip his hair out and claw his way to the door down the hall.
Gunwook found himself reaching into his underwear. Feeling constrained, he pulled his boxers along with his pajamas down to his thighs.