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There’s an unspoken rule between both Taehyung and Jeongguk when they have the time and energy to fuck each other. Taehyung is expected to let everything go and melt into the moment. Let the sensations take over his body. Let himself succumb to his every desire wrapped in a tight fist of lust, the ones that linger in the very outer corners of his mind. Today, it is much harder for him to unwind than Jeongguk would have expected.
Taehyung grips the wooden desk below him with his back arched into a tight, painful dip, hips desperately rutting into the smooth and cool surface in quick thrusts that he himself does not put effort into. The skin that collides with the polished wood is flushed red from the contact, and Jeongguk thinks the shade looks quite gorgeous on his boyfriend. His ears and nape are painted with a bright scarlet. Fucking pretty. Jeongguk knows he’s drifting away when he begins focusing on Taehyung’s beauty and his thrusts unknowingly become more brutal. It hurts—of course it does—but Jeongguk simply fucks into him with a little more force, grips onto the roots of his hair and shoves him back into the table harder.
The poor man underneath him can’t do much other than bite back whimpers, not wanting to surrender and give his boyfriend the pure satisfaction of knowing he won. He wins in nearly every aspect of his life: singing, dancing, rapping, lyric writing, sports—and now here he is…making sex a competition as well. His lip could definitely begin bleeding with the way he frustratingly traps the plump skin between his teeth, so he takes it out on the damn desk that traps him instead. Nails claw at the edges. Eyes flutter shut. Technically, it was his idea, but now that he lies here, Taehyung refuses to go through with it.
In the spur of the moment, they almost forgot why they’re having sex in such a forbidden area. They almost forget about the mixtape that sits pretty on Jeongguk’s computer, his blood, sweat and tears poured into every damned lyric. After adding ad libs and perfecting his vocals, one song in particular felt empty. For a song that was supposed to feel cluttered with lust, he decided at the last minute that Taehyung’s moans would be a nice touch in the background. Besides, he hears them every night—why wouldn’t he think they’re pretty enough to add?
Or perhaps he was looking for an excuse to fuck Taehyung in his studio. (He wouldn’t know until a few days later.)
But here they are, approximately fifteen minutes into pulling Taehyung’s tiny shirts down and eating him out, then preparing him for his cock with wide fingers that Taehyung loves (but apparently does not anymore as he didn’t moan a single time). He showers the man with pleasure, but Taehyung would rather whimper and whine into his own hands which makes Jeongguk pin them behind him.
Taehyung’s eyes snap open from their fucked-lazy complexion, irises blown out wide, staring at the black, foamed microphone in front of him. He’s aware of the small noises he makes, his heavy breaths, the wet jerk of his cock against the desk, and the noises Jeongguk usually makes when he’s fucking him. The slap of his cock sliding into him, the squelching of the lube and his lost moans.
Jeongguk grabs his left hip with the hand that isn’t pinning his boyfriend’s wrists together, ramming into him with the new leverage, eyes flickering between the body that writhes under him and the audio recording’s sound waves. He’s well aware that anyone could walk in and see them (thank Taehyung for the preconceived idea of the unlocked door), but he doesn’t care enough to take it somewhere more private.
He chuckles, tongue poking at the smooth inside of his cheek, at Taehyung’s utter audacity to agree, then chicken out after his endless teasing. He slams his dick in harder. Classic fucking brat. He squeezes his wrists tight and grips his waist so he leaves a mark, not really caring about any pain he may inflict—simply working his hips nice and hard to force moans out of the boy.
“Hng—please, please slow down,” Taehyung whispers, desperate. “What if someone catches us?”
Jeongguk sighs softly, loving the contrast between Taehyung’s deep, velvety voice, and the whiny, breathy range he hits when it’s just the two of them alone. Sex aside, Taehyung’s voice when around Jeongguk just becomes so much cuter, softer, so much more gentle. He speaks to him with a delicate voice, kindly asking how his day was, what he ate, if his muscles are sore after running, and then he’ll perk his head and clamp his hands together with an enthusiasm to listen.
(A not-so-fleeting thought: Jeongguk thinks he’ll put a ring on the man’s finger once he’s done pounding him.)
“No one’s going to catch us, love. Just pretend we’re back in your bed, okay?” He preens the words, slows his motions a bit. He decides that coaxing him back into it would be better. “Think about me—” he rolls his hips sensually, hitting places that knock the wind out of Taehyung—“fucking you so good into the mattress, stretching you out and letting you command me on how you want to be fucked.” The microphone ends up picking up his words and he smirks to himself at the way the screen temporarily draws out green lines. “And when you’re done with taking control, you just let me come in you while your nails dig into my back, those pretty legs clinging onto me…”
At his words, Taehyung breaks for the first time that night, a low moan rumbling through his chest and awakening both of their bodies in a new heat. Merely remembering those scenarios makes shivers run down the knobs of his arched spine. If he tried hard enough, he could almost feel the pads of those fingers he loves rubbing at his walls. And he can recall the way Jeongguk would groan into his shoulder every time he could claw at his back, the way when he would near an orgasm—his thrusts would become sloppier—the way he would bite into his neck. That’s how they enjoy it. Messy. Hot. Marks on their skin as souvenirs.
Jeongguk speeds his thrusts, Taehyung’s ass clapping against him. He grabs a messy handful of his hair and pushes him into the microphone, spit-slicked lips dangerously close to the film between the microphone and his chin. Taehyung’s voice strains with the moans that are trapped in his throat, the tiniest of breath hitches catching on the recording.
“Look at that,” Jeongguk says, breathy and full of admiration at the sudden pick up in the number and width of waves. “So my baby can moan into the mic.”
Taehyung’s eyes squeeze closed, lips red as he sighs into the microphone in compliance. It isn’t easy to reach into himself and pull out lewd, shameless moans when he can’t place a finger on how exactly he makes them. All he knows is Jeongguk, at any given time, could touch Taehyung and make him moan effortlessly. It’s one of his specialties. But right now, in such a forbidden place away from any semblance of any privacy, with the lights a dim gold and the air hot and thick, he can’t let go of himself. Finds it almost impossible.
Although Jeongguk is by no means doing poorly in his performance (on the contrary: he feels fucking perfect inside him), there’s something about being recorded that simply does not let him relax. As someone with an innate sense of paranoia due to his pop-star status, he’s beyond nervous that his boyfriend will somehow let it fall into the wrong hands. And suddenly the whole world would know what Kim Taehyung’s moans sound like.
“Hyung,” Jeongguk calls out, his hand coming down, rough calluses rubbing at the soft arch in his back, thumb digging into the pretty dimples lower down. “I need to hear you. Need to hear that you’re liking it.”
“Someone will hear us, Gggukie. I can’t—I just can’t—” he stutters, breath hitching wildly—“moan in here.”
“People will listen to your pretty moans in my song regardless. Who cares if someone outside hears?” He smiles wickedly behind him, nears his lips to the flushed shell of his ear. “If anything, if you start moaning, people will know to avoid this room. Don’t you want that, hyung? Privacy? Isn’t that why you’re scared? The lack of it?”
“Unlike you, I—I’m not an exhibitionist,” he chokes, tears slipping down his eyes, a small puddle appearing on the desk below him.
“Is it really exhibitionism if we’re fucking behind closed doors?”
Taehyung gets pounded a little harder into the desk and with that surprise comes an unintended exhale that’s close enough to a moan. The color flashes somewhere between a green and a yellow—a meadow green, and Jeongguk smiles at the image. He starts rocking into him with enough force for the desk to tap against the wall, so he decides to reward the man with a kiss on his nape.
“I think it—” a deep thrust is delivered to him on a silver platter—“hah, it is if we’re being loud and recording it.”
“Well, then, I’m sorry for being an exhibitionist that wants my boyfriend to moan loud enough for everyone to avoid the recording studio, but not loud enough for someone to be concerned and barge in.” The sensitive man under him grips the back of his head and pulls him into his neck. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it though—the risk. You’re hard—”
“Yes, I’m hard because you’re fucking me.”
Jeongguk’s finger trails down his back and with it he leaves a trail of shivers following it. Quite frankly, Jeongguk doesn’t believe him, but he decides not to question further…and also decides not to point out how he’s basically leaking all over the desk. Taehyung whimpers again, voice rising in pitch, a wanton noise stuck in his throat at every little hit to his prostate. Jeongguk’s knowing words fuel a burning hot fire within him, his stomach coiling with it, slit of his cock opening to drool.
“Kiss me.”
Jeongguk doesn’t need to be told twice.
He grabs Taehyung’s chin and angles him, lips crashing. Taehyung still has some of his red lipstick that tastes of strawberries and it inevitably smudges on both of their mouths in a messy track up their cheeks. He tries hard not to moan into the spontaneous kiss, so he ends up leading in it. It’s better, in his mind, to set the pace than lose himself in bliss. Desperate. The kiss is desperate as Jeongguk’s cock slides into him with little finesse and pure instinct, and he often finds himself reminding his brain and body of his lover’s pleasure.
“So good, Tae,” Jeongguk praises sweetly, voice lowering in pitch. It’s reserved for his boyfriend and an occasional song, but he only ever uses that loving tone with Taehyung (especially when he’s saying dirty words with it). “Doing so fucking good, you feel so fucking good.”
He laps his tongue across Taehyung’s bottom lip one more time before he starts biting his earlobe. If he can’t make Taehyung moan, he’ll make it clear he’s enjoying every damn second. His red wrists are let go and he lets Taehyung have his way, those delicate hands immediately gripping the desk for stability. The band of Taehyung’s red shorts are pulled back then let go to snap forward and sting his thigh. Maybe when Taehyung is more comfortable, he’ll let him spank him a bit, slap him around.
He whines about the pain into the microphone, but for the most part Jeongguk ignores him, looking for that spot inside him that makes him moan particularly loud. The sounds in the room are the epitome of erotic and it only spurs him on in keeping that same energy. He can hear the delicious drag and pull of his cock, the same motion that produces that squelching noise from Taehyung’s wet ass. And then there’s the little sighs and breath hitches his boyfriend unknowingly makes. The ticking of the clock on the wall. A faint buzz of electronics. Along with that, of course, is the sound of the desk hitting the wall that gradually becomes louder in conjunction with Taehyung’s futile hips that hit the edge of the desk.
“Ohmygod—” Taehyung moans, body shaking. Jeongguk grins, pushing his body into his faster by gripping his hips with both hands, enthusiastic as he fucks into Taehyung at a new pace. “G—Ggukie, I can’t—”
“Shh…” he could get used to the sound of Taehyung’s moans dragging in search of his orgasm. “I know, baby. I know. You’re doing so good though. Just like that.” He ruffles his hair fondly, pretends like there’s no urge to yank at the bleached strands.
“Oh, you’re fucking me so good—” the elder unwinds, delirious as he begins using the desk to push his ass back to meet the younger halfway with each thrust.
“And here I thought I would need to blindfold you to properly record those sweet little sounds you make. Turns out you just need a good dick.”
Jeongguk moves his hips, searching for that sweet spot inside the man that drives him fucking insane. As he drills into him, he stretches him wide open with his hands until he slows to experimentally push all the way inside—as far as his length will go—until he’s at the hilt, moving around in circular motions. Taehyung’s body curls into itself on the desk, his lips betraying him and letting a small, unadulterated moan leave him. His name is called obscenely and that’s how he knows.
He fucks into that spot, his head rubbing against him, his walls, until tears are forming in Taehyung’s eyes and his nails are firmly dug into the wooden corner of the desk. Taehyung cannot take it anymore, not with all the pleasure flooding through his body at once, so he tips his head back and lewdly moans his name into the microphone, not a fiber of his being caring for the presence of the equipment. His name escapes him again and—
“Y—You can blindfold me, please, blindfold me,” the elder moans, tongue almost touching the film of the microphone, “better fuck me so good, when you do.”
“Am I not fucking you good right now?” And he didn’t even have time to process the obscene noise, thinking Taehyung just came, before the elder started spitting filth followed by a drawn-out string of moans from deep in his gut, the sound so loud and the epitome of lewd that he is, for once, worried that one of the members will hear him from their own studios down the hall.
“You are, you are.”
“Then what was that all about? Want more, baby?” Jeongguk places a firm palm and extended fingers on Taehyung’s neck, leveling him with the microphone.
“It’s a promise,” he breathes. “Want you to promise me you’ll give it your all.”
His stomach coils in drop-dead gorgeous whimpers of Jeongguk’s name mixed in between his words, cute moans that part his lips into variations of circular shapes. He finds himself torn right in the middle of finding his words either cute or hot, decides it’s a little of both (but the way his stomach kicks hard and his cock leaks inside him tells him it’s more hot than cute).
“I promise. When don’t I give it my all?” He asks it honestly, cock aiming for that spot with every thrust.
Taehyung keeps moaning, some mindless and dumb, others that jolt his very core and make his cock throb. Jeongguk glances at his computer screen again, smiling with satisfaction when he sees Taehyung’s gifting him with a variety of unique waves in his recording. Some are taller, some more full. Each unique in tone and level of desperation, some where Taehyung’s pretty lips formed the shape of Jeongguk’s name.
“Right now.” The elder says it purely to rile Jeongguk up, and he flinches with anticipation for a spank which comes hard and with a sharp sound that causes the audio to briefly flash red from both the impact and Taehyung’s gasp. “You’re not giving it to me how I like it,” he says through bared teeth, “give it to me harder.” He hisses, elated and thighs shaking cutely. “I said harder, Jeongguk, not faster.”
“You’ve got a mouth on you tonight.” Nevertheless, he snaps his hips tighter. Both of them feel an intense orgasm approaching them, but Taehyung specifically feels the precursor of one course through him early, waves made of shivers flowing through his petite body. His cock twitches pathetically on the desk, hole tightening on Jeongguk and not allowing him to slip free for even a second, even by accident.
“Yeah? Wanna fuck it?” A kiss is placed on Jeongguk’s ear, staining it red. “I think you like it when I talk back.”
And mere seconds later, Jeongguk’s hands are fiddling with the microphone, placing it low on the table and then pushing Taehyung’s head down by his hair, right in front of it. His hands come down on either side of Taehyung’s head, bodies pressing together tightly. Jeongguk’s thick, curved cock slips into Taehyung’s tight hole with ease despite the new angle, sloppy thrusts turning into hard and quick ones. He mounts Taehyung quite easily, fucking his body into the table. It smashes Taehyung’s nipples into the heating wood and he groans in both pain and pleasure. There’s something so beautiful and elating when the initial sting is gone.
His red shorts fall farther down his legs and land at his ankles.
“I think you act like a whore when you talk back,” he spits right into his ear, biting it as a form of punishment.
“Yesyes. Your whore.”
“Fuck—” he exhales, kissing the nape of his neck before biting into it hard, fucking him so much harder, basically slamming him into the desk. “Yeah—you’re my whore, huh?”
“Only yours.”
And with that, Jeongguk grabs his shoulders and pins him down, pounds him thoroughly and good. Taehyung can tell he’s been holding back for a while, has been waiting to fuck him this hard and leave him breathless for just the perfect moment. He’s fueled by both the scenario in which he fucks him in and the sensation of it. It’s hard and it’s fast, and Taehyung is moaning so helplessly under him, and his head feels like it’s spinning from pure pleasure, and Taehyung’s words are so hot that they crawl under his skin and leave love-bites from the inside out—and he fucking loves it. He completely overpowers Taehyung with his body, traps him, and then proceeds to worship him by fucking him just the way he likes it.
“Touch me. Touch me everywhere, Ggukie.” His whole body shakes with it, eyes closing and rolling back into his head, cock squished between the desk and his slick stomach. Drools runs down his chin, sloppy, and Jeongguk prefers it like that. Delirious and fucked shameless.
Hands come down in an automatic motion, traveling Taehyung’s body with a familiarity that no one else has the privilege of having been gifted. He keeps one elbow on the desk while the other comes up to pull at Taehyung’s bitten-red lip. It feels plump in his pinch, his fingertip rimming the edge of where his bottom lip, with its flower-like texture, meets the soft interior of his mouth. Briefly, he pushes past it and plays with his tongue which eagerly wraps around his finger as if it were a lollipop. His cheeks hollow around the invited finger—“good boy”—before it is slipping back out and dipping along the curves of his collarbones.
His left hand joins him in his exploration of Taehyung’s body. Both of them gently rest on the top of Taehyung’s chest, and—
“Don’t hold back, just touch me. Please touch me.”
They squeeze over Taehyung’s slim breasts. The pads of his thumbs and index fingers kiss for a single moment before they are coming down and squeezing Taehyung’s nipples together in a painfully tight motion. Taehyung’s lips part in a silent gasp, his thighs rubbing together. Those same fingers twist and pull away from his chest before letting go, the skin snapping back into place, then palms rubbing away the sting. It hurts, undeniably so, but Taehyung thinks he’s high on it. One hand continues its motions there, alternating between nipples, while the other traces his ribs and his stomach.
The other slowly trails down his navel. Teasing at an anguishing pace that makes Taehyung want to do it himself. Eventually he lands right on the base of Taehyung’s cock. The feel is familiar, the limited sight of it, the heat of it—
He feels a bead of sweat that had formed on his temple trail down his face and chin, briefly looking up and around to find the window between the studio itself and the recording booth foggy. He can see himself so clearly.
Fingers create a tight barrier right at the base. They come up to feel the rest of his dick, and simply feeling him up is arousing, arousing in so many ways, his hips snapping into him and then stilling in appreciation.
“Fuck, you’re so big.”
Exaggeration is completely out of the picture. He means it.
Taehyung’s dick feels goddamn perfect in his hand. It throbs against his palm, veins shooting up to the head of his cock that curves magnificently—curves upwards so beautifully, sculpted perfectly to fuck someone and do it well, have them addicted to it in an instant. It’s heavy in his hold. Glistens with precome and shiny at the tip, oozing out. The feeling that passes through Jeongguk is utterly, maddeningly erotic. His cock is tinted an angry red from both the neglect and the rough treatment of the edge of the desk and honestly, if Taehyung wasn’t built so needy, Jeongguk would suck him dry. His balls slap against the side of his hand with each steadily-building thrust.
Fuckfuckfuck—he hasn’t even jerked him off yet. He’s only just felt it in his hand.
“You’re calling me big? ‘You even felt yourself? Feels like you’re splitting me open with your dick. Like you’re ruining me for everyone else.”
And in a way it does feel like that, judging by how stretched out wide he is. Jeongguk is longer than him, wider than him, so much more. It comes with an overbearing need for Jeongguk to be lodged deep inside him.
“Oh.” He spanks him for that. “Am I stretching you out good?” His imagination does wonders for him. His body could actually light on fire at this point given how real the heat that passes through him feels. A whole shiver erupts through him, through his chest, down his thighs.
The thought of molding Taehyung only to the shape of him evokes a reaction so palpable in him that he’s afraid he’s only felt it a few times before. It comes intense, mouth-watering, mind-erasing, and fucking delicious. He felt it the first time he pushed inside Taehyung, and apparently he hasn’t got used to the feel of it because he still, still, is not immune to how overwhelmingly pleasurable his ass feels. Gooey and warm, plush and soft, wet from lube (usually lube, sometimes the occasional spit)…and tight.
The best part? No one else will ever feel Taehyung after Jeongguk.
Maybe he wasn’t the first, but he sure as hell will make sure he’s the last.
“Yeah,” Taehyung replies, the words blurring together in his mind. He feels Jeongguk holding him still, feeling the weight of him in his wrapped, warm palm. “Hurry up and—” the words are knocked right out of him when Jeongguk hears his command, delivers a hard thrust—“and jerk me off.”
He pounds into him so fast he’s afraid the elder might break in his hold. His hand moves a little faster on Taehyung, palm wrapped, wrist moving up and down. The man trembles in his hold. It brings back memories of melancholic nights with the two of them alone, young adults and uncharacteristically horny when the sun would go down and the moon would sweetly kiss the stars that shined in Taehyung’s pretty caramel eyes. When the surface of Jeongguk’s skin would be cold to the touch, but then Taehyung would wrap himself around him like a little bear and keep him warm. His hands would start wandering and they would end up rubbing together like teens—embarrassing and purely amateur.
They truly had no idea what they were doing at the time, only knew they were both hard and wanted to feel each other. Usually Jeongguk would jerk Taehyung off while Taehyung shoved three fingers into himself, his other hand feeling up Jeongguk. And his thumb would dig so painfully into—
Jeongguk digs his thumb so painfully into the slit of Taehyung’s cock. It causes a gush of precome to drool over the head and eventually spread to the rest of his length with the help of his palm.
Taehyung’s blonde hair falls over his dazed eyes, legs spreading uncomfortably wide in front of the desk. The sting of his muscles from unbearable want is the best part and the animalistic urge that takes over the man on top of him fuels him in its own way.
And Jeongguk will make sure he’s the last.
He forgets about the microphone completely. In the future when Jeongguk plays back the recording with a keen hand shoved down his pants, that’s when Taehyung’s moans sound the prettiest. When he’s not worried about pleasing or impressing, but when he’s simply feeling himself in the limelight and needs Jeongguk to hear how good he feels, how good he’s doing, fucking him so well and thoroughly.
And Jeongguk will be the last.
He starts thinking. Starts thinking about every little hookup, every fling, every fuckbuddy Taehyung has ever mentioned to him. Usually all nameless and faceless and devoid of any attachment as they’ve all grown apart from Taehyung with the arrival of his new boyfriend. He would talk about them when they were a little younger, how some of them would rail Taehyung until he couldn’t think, how they would leave hickeys on his thighs, how they would tightly hold him in their arms when it came time for them to come inside him. And Jeongguk would just listen. He would listen, then imagine, then fuck into his hand while imaging he was the one fucking Taehyung thoughtless, his teeth engraining themselves into Taehyung’s pretty neck, him coming hard inside him, holding him still and pliant.
The existence of those men never bothered him with the exception of one.
“What do you think Seojoon would say if he saw you like this?”
Truth be told, Seojoon’s existence is a bit of a guilty pleasure for them to bring up during sex. It gets Taehyung all needy and Jeongguk all angry and cocky.
Maybe four or four years ago, Taehyung fell in love with Seojoon. Although they’re good friends now and have cleared the air, Jeongguk feels envy prick at his skin every time he thinks about the friend. Seojoon fucked Taehyung once—in fact, he had every right to—Taehyung was available, but that was still one too many times for Jeongguk.
As revenge, almost three years ago, Seojoon attended one of their concerts, sat nice and pretty on the floor seats, his hotel room right between Taehyung’s and Jeongguk’s thanks to their grand reunion. Him and Taehyung were awfully touchy that night but he pressed on, touched him more, hugged him for longer, playfully flirted in the way that came so naturally to him when around conventionally attractive men.
After the concert was over and done with and it was time to go back to their cozy hotel rooms, Jeongguk practically dragged Taehyung into the same van as him, then the same hotel room despite being assigned different ones. They could hear the loud blur of a TV playing in Seojoon’s room, so, naturally, he decided to fuck Taehyung into the exact wall seperating the couple from him. At first, Taehyung did not reciprocate Jeongguk’s loud moans since he tried keeping his to quiet, unsteady breaths and little whispers of Jeongguk—Ggukie, don’t be so loud, he’ll hear, he’ll hear. But after making Taehyung come in his hold once and then leading him to the path of a second orgasm, his lips became erotic in the way they would stretch just to whine. The elder had a newfound love for muscles that year (not really newfound for any of the other members, but newfound to him), so Jeongguk was killing two birds with one stone, he supposes.
Admittedly, he was mean. He was mean to Taehyung, fucked him hard, called him all sorts of names, slapped and spanked him a few times. Yet, despite the rough treatment, Taehyung understood quite clearly the philosophy behind jealousy and the actions of desire. Jeongguk wanted him. He wanted him, wanted his every inch.
When Seojoon fucked him, his mind was a blur of painful emotions and his heart was a messy, uncoordinated slam on the keys of a dull piano. Taehyung had worked tirelessly, day and night, night and day, twenty-four-fucking-seven to make Seojoon feel loved and special, to make him feel comfortable just to get an ounce of that attention back and the rest of his focus on the friends around Taehyung.
There was always this unbreakable film, this indestructible, negative space that kept them apart and for a reason Taehyung could not possibly fathom. Maybe he’s just not interested in me like that, but why would that damn space still be there if they were supposedly just ‘friends’? Maybe we’re just not as close as I like to think. But they had been friends for years now and Taehyung had been right by his side when no one else was. Maybe time will bring us closer. But it had already been years now. Maybe. Maybemaybemaybemaybemaybe.
And then Seojoon fucked it all up more than he already had by fucking him whilst they were both drunk. There hadn’t been a trace of lust in Seojoon’s body, he didn’t need Taehyung. Didn’t need him at all. He didn’t feel desired, and maybe it was his damaged ego speaking, but all his past hookups had wanted to remember their time together, and Seojoon didn’t seem to want anything other than for his boner to go down for the night. The morning was worse than the night. Taehyung woke up to a cold bed.
He fell in love with Jeongguk shortly after. Actually, it was more like Cupid shot a few dozen arrows straight through his heart every time he would see Jeongguk, like he placed a nursery full of monarchs deep in his belly so with each smile his lover threw his way, their wings would flutter simultaneously and cause a violent storm inside him. Jeongguk kept his crush on him well-hidden but Seojoon, although a bit of a pain in the ass, had broken down that facade with ease. He could see the embers of frustration in his eyes, the pure desire for him.
He had been different in not only that aspect but in all aspects. He was gentle and caring in the sun-lit mornings and nostalgic afternoons, tucking rebellious locks of Taehyung’s brown hair behind his ear, and during the nights he would use those same fingers to pull at his scalp while shoving his cock into him on their shared bed.
“T—Think he would be jealous.” He’s so weak. He can feel himself going limp with his upcoming orgasm.
Now, that’s infuriating. He grabs a fistful of Taehyung’s long but damp hair and pulls his head back roughly. “You think he likes you?” Teeth come down and sink into his neck, tongue licking at the sensitive skin he disturbed. He needs to leave hickeys.
“Yes.”
“Does he really think he can steal you away from me?” He scoffs at that, offending himself at the idea. Does he really…? “You know what? I’d love to see him fuck your tight little ass. See how long he lasts, see if he even knows how to make another man come.”
Jeongguk certainly knows how to make another man come. He sucks on Taehyung’s neck until there’s no air separating his teeth from Taehyung’s sweaty skin that tastes of salt. Red and purple showcased on his neck. The man underneath him positively writhes against him, hole clenching tightly around Jeongguk’s wet cock, thighs shaking cutely. Jeongguk grabs his jaw between his fingers and pulls his head back again (“God.”), this time itching to see Taehyung’s pleased face.
He wears a sort of fucked-out expression, irises wide and a midnight sky, eyelids heavy as he gazes back at Jeongguk with half-lidded, teary and red eyes. His hair is ruffled from Jeongguk’s constant touching, soft locks kissing his damp eyelashes and bouncing upwards with each hard thrust delivered elsewhere. Lips parted, eyes closed, Taehyung whines and moans. And with that image, Jeongguk grows aware of the crimson decorating his boyfriend’s lips and the fine lines that lay on the soft pillows of the bottom one. Extra plump. Teeth marks ingrained into them.
Curse his sinful, sinful red lips.
“You’re cocky today,” is what those same lips form when he notices Jeongguk’s overly focused face with those tightly knit eyebrows. “Does my face get you off? Is my face getting you off right now?”
Jeongguk’s eyes screw shut, still holding Taehyung’s pretty fucking face in one hand. He can’t look at him right now. He’s too…everything, and it’s too much for Jeongguk to handle at the moment, even as he pounds into him with less rhythm.
“Yes,” he confesses. “Your lips are getting me off right now.”
He quickly wipes it off his mind by spanking Taehyung so hard that his next moan promptly does exactly that—wipes everything off his mind.
The elder’s chin drips with drool that spills from the pool under his wet tongue. His cheeks are flushed a deep red, a peach-like color soaking his skin and under. He still holds him there, though, between his fingers tenderly.
A thumb plays with the drool that runs and eventually dips into the wet cavern of a mouth, and Jeongguk groans at the warmth and wetness alike.
Jeongguk remembers it suddenly.
Taehyung is pulled up once again assertively to be shoved forward, facing the window between Jeongguk’s studio and the recording booth. The low lighting creates a mirror-like effect on the wide, transparent window. Jeongguk can see himself too clearly, can see the sweat that drips off his toned body, the way Taehyung’s eyes flutter closed when Jeongguk does this and that with his hands, with his hips—can see the pleasure written all throughout his lover’s pretty face (and the smile on his own when he notices the ecstasy).
“Look at you,” Jeongguk purrs, eyes fixed on Taehyung through the “mirror”. “You’re only addicted to this dick, huh? You’re only my whore, right, baby?”
His grip on Taehyung’s chin tightens, forcing him to look at himself in such a beautifully wrecked state. When they finally manage to focus, Taehyung’s eyes work out their bodies in a dim reflection. He sees quite clearly Jeongguk on top of him, leaning over him and looking at how his eyes droop with the lewd image. Eventually his eyes land on himself and…
And…wow.
He looks beyond a wreck.
The details are full in his mind and all he sees, really, are: the red tints of his lips created by Jeongguk’s teeth; the imprints of Jeongguk's fingers in his now wild hair; the red marks on his chin and jaw (and he likes to imagine on his neck too, although that’s usually a Thursday afternoon activity…?) created by Jeongguk’s hands; the love bites left on his neck created by Jeongguk’s lips; the hot, crimson waves of blood that flows in his cheeks created by Jeongguk.
Who knew that a man could tear him apart so effortlessly? He looks utterly, utterly, debauched.
By Jeongguk.
Said man nibbles on his ear delicately, his hand departing from its bruising grip on his jaw and waist. A stare is directed right at Taehyung’s naked body through the mirror, fucking into him faster after losing his pace. The elder moans obscenely into the microphone, drool weakly spraying onto the film. Yellow lines peak on Jeongguk’s computer, but neither of them could care less about the state of the equipment, greedily lost in each other. The younger of the two sneaks in quick kisses to Taehyung’s hair, his shoulders, his neck, whatever he can reach with his mouth.
Jeongguk pulses inside him and Taehyung’s cock twitches in response, both of them near their orgasms. Taehyung whines out, hands searching for Jeongguk and curling around his fingers tenderly, seeking stability. Still, though, he looks at himself, eyes firmly locked at the scene in front of him during such a sinful act, tasting himself through moans.
“You gonna come for me, baby?” Jeongguk asks, voice dripping lust into his ear.
“Yes,” Taehyung chokes out, the hand not currently gripping Jeongguk planted firmly on the end of the desk, knuckles flooding a blinding white with mere force.
“Come for me, then. Don’t hold back.” He whispers the words, biting Taehyung’s earlobe and his hand reciprocating the hold Taehyung has him in. He locks their fingers and tenderly guides his hips. “Look at yourself.” If he can’t position his head, then he’ll command him to watch the way his own face contorts into a massive tension and, finally, a relief. “Look at yourself when you come on my dick. Call out my name.”
He struggles for a moment to reach the edge and get out all his building pleasures, but once he does, it’s unforgettable.
Taehyung clenches, muscles tightening around nothing which causes him to curl into the desk, legs shaking so much that for a moment he’s afraid he’ll actually fall to the floor with how good he feels. Jeongguk fucks into him fast and Taehyung fucks back onto him faster. His boyfriend milks every lovely sound out of his weak body. He trembles with joy. His eyes gloss over certainly, staring at how his eyelashes flutter and his mouth opens, tongue running across his upper front teeth. He hadn’t really noticed that habit of his. Unsureness clouds him. Does he look at himself or Jeongguk, who is groaning into his neck, palming at his restless hips?
His gut kicks powerfully and he knows that’s it. That’s the one. It comes overwhelming and with a hint of pain and hotness unknown to him. He calls out for Jeongguk now, moans his name in one long melody. At some point after, everything becomes a bit much for him—his head pounds, eyes barely open and filled with tears. The computer is alight with an amber color due to his heavy breathing; his cock spurts dollops of salty cum on the desk and himself; his back arches painfully to grant Jeongguk easier access. He chants, quietly pleads to his boyfriend when he begins coming down from it.
Jeongguk knows his presence isn’t really felt right now by Taehyung who’s climaxing, but he leaves open-mouthed kisses to Taehyung’s shoulders nonetheless. He stays inside him throughout it, following his movements, although it gets difficult to hold back from his own high when Taehyung clenches around him like that. So impossibly tight.
His boyfriend looks purely blissful when he comes, he notices. His lips part, spit glossing them red and fresh. Those dark, strong eyebrows of his that would usually look intimidating in other scenarios in his professional life now look weak and boyish. Like he’s stripped himself of the title of a Greek God and backed down from his throne to peel at his skin and reveal the inner flesh of a human—flawed and beautiful and curious and all.
Taehyung and Jeongguk breathe to a similar beat for a moment.
“Are you okay?” Jeongguk coaxes him to talk, shakes his hand through his. Deciding that he has recuperated enough, he moves his hold away from his waist to stroke at his hair, comb through any possible knots.
“More than.” All the breath has been knocked out of him, so he solely relies on short-lived wind to speak. He’s shaky, as is his voice, and he can’t properly move.
When Taehyung taps on Jeongguk’s wrist he readjusts, straightens himself from his hunched position. He holds Taehyung down for a moment. His hand shakily visits the space between Taehyung and himself to palm at the base of his cock, grip it, and slowly slide it out, inch by inch, making sure he doesn’t accidentally hurt the man. Asking, baby, baby, does it hurt? Is it okay if I keep going? To which Taehyung would respond exhaustedly doesn’t hurt, just keep going. I don’t mind it.
Taehyung’s mind is wonderfully clear and dancing, hot blood pounds in his ears loudly, going bu-bum… bu-bum… bu-bum… like a well-timed bass. Hands clear up the space in front of him (or so he thinks, he can’t really see much, either) and guide him to lay down, pulling up a familiar cologne-wafted leather chair to rest his legs on.
Jeongguk moves back, leaning over his desk to eye the screen and pause the masterpiece of a recording. He rewinds the audio to the highest peak, letting Taehyung’s loud, wanton moans spill over the room like fog over a forest bed. They reach the part where Taehyung comes, the sound so lovely that Jeongguk has to rewind five times to get the full effect. The boy that is perched in the chair shyly grins into his arms, nuzzling into the soft skin of his elbow.
“Will you stop it?” He teases, having sufficiently regained the energy to stand and walk and tease. Taehyung comes up behind him, chin tucking over his shoulder fondly, watching Jeongguk’s reaction to the…audio…through the faux mirror. Ears twitching and with slight embarrassment, he listens too—listens to his pretty and lewd whines that still feel fresh off his tongue.
“Hm,” a chuckle comes in response, “for someone who’s asking me to stop the playback, you do seem to like it a lot…? Or am I wrong?” There’s a pause to the noise and Jeongguk turns, cupping Taehyung’s waist with one hand and his face in the other.
“You’re not wrong at all.”
He’s pulled close, noses touching, breathing into each other slowly, eyelashes fluttering shut with expectancy. They savor a sweet kiss after not being able to for so long. Taehyung tastes a bit like strawberry cake, but blame Jeongguk for being so disgustingly infatuated with his boyfriend. Their lips mold together perfectly, no rush or even desperation in them—just a simple, lingering touch of their lips against each other’s in love (although Jeongguk wishes there was a more powerful word than love). Love is too condensed of a word, four letters, four letters to describe why colors explode past his eyelids when Taehyung kisses him like that, why butterflies erupt in his stomach like a pre-teen when Taehyung caresses him like that, why his heart skips a beat when Taehyung bites his bottom lip seductively, a fast hand coming up to grip his hair like…that.
“You were good,” Jeongguk mumbles between the smothers of Taehyung’s lips. “Did it like you do this often…” A pair of teeth come down to meet Jeongguk’s top lip, biting hard, punishing—a warning—as if Taehyung calls the shots here. “Like it’s your life’s duty.”
A strong palm separates him from Taehyung and the warmth of lips leaves him cold. “You should only dirty-talk me after an orgasm if you want me to go another round with you.”
He sees it now, the assertiveness in those eyebrows that everyone so casually labels intimidating.
“Guilty as charged.”
Another breath is knocked out of him when Taehyung pushes him into the chair, climbing on top of him, and conveniently sitting himself on Jeongguk’s erection. He pushes him into it like he calls the shots here. And—you know what? Jeongguk likes it. Likes his assertiveness, likes when he takes control over what little he has to take control of, including Jeongguk and his mood when he likes to fuck. He likes it. Likes it a lot.
“You gonna fuck me, baby boy? Gonna fuck me with that big dick?”
“To quote you, ‘you’ve got a mouth on you tonight.’” Taehyung goes back to leaving hickeys on him, swinging the red shorts off his ankle. They land somewhere across the room. “Can you stay focused? Wanna hear you talk dirty to me…why don’t you finish what you started and fuck me?”
Jeongguk can feel on his stomach what he started for Taehyung.
“Well, before you so rudely pushed me into my own chair—”
“You seemed to like it, though,” he mutters through a roll of his eyes.
“—I was gonna say you sounded like a pornstar when you came.” He takes his sweet time placing his hands on Taehyung’s ass, spreading and lightly spanking. “Like you randomly get fucked and record it just to hear how pretty you sound. Like you’re…like you’re turning yourself on.”
That earns him an open mouth kiss to his neck, to his collarbones and down. Down. Down.
“You should do this more often, Tae, with me.”
“And then what?” He raises a brow, cups Jeongguk’s face and pulls him close to coax his mouth open and gently suck at his tongue. Once he’s sufficiently tasted him, he adds, “And then make homemade porn?”
“Would love it if this advanced to porn.” Two touching fingers—his middle and ring finger—trail down the small of Taehyung’s shaking back. They only break apart to circle Taehyung’s hole and rest there temporarily. “To be able to see you getting pounded by me any time I like…to relive it any time I like… Well, that’s dangerous, baby.”
“Then your cock would really be addicted to me. I swear I wouldn’t be able to move an inch without you knocking me up.” Taehyung sucks at him harder, his hand wrapping around Jeongguk’s cock and jerking in soft motions.
“Don’t even joke about that—”
“I’m not, I’m not,” the little devil giggles when his dick twitches in his hand, drools a bit more than usual. “I’m just saying we wouldn’t get anything done if you recorded me getting fucked by you. You would probably rack up a collection.”
Jeongguk fucks into his hand, sucks back and creates a thin line of spit that connects their lips.
“Are you asking for another round? Is that what you’re trying to do?”
He’s coy when he responds. “Maybe.”
“Still horny, huh?” He whispers tenderly, pushing his fingers into Taehyung’s sore and puffy skin. Precome gushes out obscenely, and for a moment, Jeongguk thinks this is too dirty and too personal for him to see, regardless of whether or not Taehyung is his boyfriend. “You’re really trying to wear me out before bed. Can’t have me leaving without having thoroughly fucked my cum into you?” It’s getting hot again. He presses “record” on his mic. “Wanna know a secret?” He holds Taehyung’s shoulders, feels him shake between his hands, and presses a tender kiss to his lips, absolutely mocking him when Taehyung pulls forward for another and he pulls away. “Kinda wanna fuck you one more time.”
This time it’s turn for Taehyung to chuckle. “Not surprised. You held back for me to make me come twice.” He sits up straight, leaving one final kiss on Jeongguk’s cheek and stands with straight, albeit shaky legs. “Was this always your plan?”
“Yeah,” Jeongguk admits, standing up to face Taehyung. His hands naturally gravitate towards his waist. “But you almost ruined it when you came. You looked so pretty. Was about a second away from coming inside you.”
“Mmm, you should have.”
“Yeah?” Jeongguk yanks the microphone from its position and places it on a little ledge close to the window. He leads Taehyung with his hands, cages him against it, then touches his thighs, sliding them down so slowly…and Taehyung gets the picture, jumps. He catches him easily and pulls him up like a feather, and Taehyung is throwing his head back, elated at the feeling of being so light in the latter’s arms. An embarrassing whimper escapes him at once. He can’t differentiate it between a whimper of pleasure or surprise—all he knows is that it was completely out of his control. A knowing smile appears on his face when he holds Taehyung steady.
“Yeah.” He proceeds to wrap his legs around Jeongguk’s waist and his arms around his neck.
“Luckily for me, I get another chance to.”
The concept of time melts away, and before his eyes stands Jeongguk mouthing something but no noise coming out. It’s not really his fault. Taehyung’s ears can’t stop ringing when Jeongguk has him like this—pinned against the window, sweat dripping from his face, hard cock poking at his thigh. However, he does know that his words are husky and low, a mere growl in his chest, especially when he’s in between Taehyung’s thighs, the man under his complete control.
And that’s something that Taehyung, despite his very expansive experience with other men, surprised him the most about Jeongguk. He could treat him like nothing more than a toy in the bedroom and he’ll still come with ribbons of white. He never thought that being manhandled and tossed around in bed would turn him on more than it does. But Jeongguk has that effect on him, and has a tendency to discover things about Taehyung that he didn’t even know himself. Everything he does spills with such tantalization that he can’t help but be pliant and awaiting Jeongguk’s touches.
…Like now.
Jeongguk takes in the sweet scene, grabbing onto Taehyung’s arched back, slowly lifting him far up the wall, feet floating far above the air. Taehyung pretends to not feel that familiar tingling in his stomach.
The younger takes his time stroking himself under Taehyung’s thighs, getting ready to penetrate him when Taehyung begins whining and playfully hitting him, telling him to hurry up. When he finally feeds him every inch of his cock, the reaction is explosive, to say the least. The mic picks him up clearly thanks to his learned shamelessness. His voice raises in pitch and there’s nothing left to muffle him besides breathing into Jeongguk’s shoulder.
“That feel good inside you?”
“Yes.” He hears the squelching and immediately, a thought comes to him that makes him place a hand on Jeongguk’s chest before he can lose himself. “Stop. What are we gonna do if the wall gets all dirty?”
That endears Jeongguk far beyond belief.
“I’ll clean it,” Jeongguk reassures Taehyung, experimentally thrusting into him at a slow, tender pace that has Taehyung sighing softly, a faint smile on his lips.
He grabs Taehyung’s thighs, slowly lifting the boy up and then back down on him, burying his face into the junction of the elder’s neck and collarbones. Above him, Taehyung breathes into his ear, moaning from the overstimulation, every sound traveling straight down to Jeongguk’s hard cock. With every unsteady breath, he clenches around him, fingernails digging into his broad shoulders.
Taehyung feels him flush against him and with this angle, Jeongguk penetrates him what feels like so much deeper, hitting the hilt inside his boyfriend. He’s a little looser now that he’s been fucked. He feels magnificent, which is why Jeongguk presses him into the wall, pulling back and slamming up into him, the glass around the elder’s body beginning to fog up with the heat of their breaths. His knuckles turn pink against the shiny surface with the strain of his grip on Taehyung. Once he gets a hold on him, though, he falls into the steady rhythm of fucking Taehyung with a perfect mixture of strength, depth, and speed with the help of Taehyung’s moans. His hips angle to find Taehyung’s prostate.
“Fuck—how do you, how do you find it so easily…?” His arms sling around his shoulders tighter, eyeing the mic and intentionally keeping his voice low. “I swear I can’t even find it with my own fingers and you just, you just…”
“Took a lot of practice.” He switches to holding Taehyung with one hand, using the window as leverage. “You should reward me by kissing me if you’re that impressed.”
“Cheesy...”
But that’s really all it takes for Taehyung to part his lips and Jeongguk to unbury himself from the crook of his neck, pressing a long kiss against his lips. It’s all teeth and tongue. Taehyung fights a losing battle for dominance in it, giving up when Jeongguk successfully sucks hard on the wet muscle. He submits in Jeongguk’s hold and lets him control the pace at which his mouth moves—and that pace is starved.
“Open.” The younger fucks his tongue into every crevice of his wet mouth, searching and craving the sweetness that comes from his saliva and his very core. He tastes of…vanilla ice cream and cherry sorbet. Of strong vodka on those lazy, lonely nights they spend together to sober the silence, taking up each other’s company. And then on nights like this, Taehyung tastes of Jeongguk himself, his ivory skin that tastes warm and like home, his cocoa butter lip balm that he kisses off his lips, his wet cock, his salty come—every piece of him. He likes devouring him until he’s all his to keep.
Taehyung’s hands roam all over his body as the kiss deepens, pressing shaking fingers into his muscles, the ones that expand on his back, those biceps he loves so much, the ones hard on his chest he loves to kiss and feel up (mostly because he can hear his heartbeat). And it’s messy, his hands sliding with sweat, nothing neat about this round with the way they’re needy for each other. Jeongguk groans into Taehyung’s heavenly mouth.
He makes a quick note to himself as a reminder: fuck Taehyung’s mouth later.
“Ggukie,” Taehyung hisses between his teeth, his head thrown back, “You feel so…” he can’t even figure out the word, instead grits out, “good. So good.” Perfect. All-encompassing.
Jeongguk plants kisses down his neck, over his chest as he slams Taehyung into the window by his hips.
There’s nothing they love more than a little risk. The environment they fuck in right now is a new level to exhibitionism. In the past, they’d rent out hotel rooms and open the blinds that look over the city lights and make love to each other over them. They’ve gone so far as to fuck in front of an office with one-way mirrors and this is still something else entirely.
It’s clear Taehyung’s enjoying it, if the way his body moves gracefully against the wall or his moans are anything to go by. He wraps his arms weakly around Jeongguk’s neck and crosses them, fingertips tracing shapes into his skin and nails leaving crescents. Jeongguk picks up the pace, manhandling Taehyung’s thighs harshly to meet him halfway, and Taehyung’s legs tighten around his waist subsequently.
Jeongguk is helplessly lost in the moment, mind racing and in an ecstasy-filled mind which has him moaning and clinging onto his boyfriend, who arches his back against the window and stares at Jeongguk with wide, teary eyes. Red, wet eyes that never fail to make Jeongguk groan and speed up, cock going further and further until there’s nowhere to go but back and forth. A true indication that he’s fucking Taehyung good, so good, in fact, that it renders him speechless for a minute.
It’s okay. Taehyung renders him speechless, too, in his own way. For starters, he’s plush and wet, far better than Jeongguk could have merely imagined him to feel like. The lack of words come into play when trying to describe how Taehyung feels when he’s wrapped up tight around him. But maybe he can start by saying that Taehyung is soft, lovely and erotic, just like his mouth and the sensitive skin between his thighs. He’s wet—always is—with squelching sounds echoing throughout the room. His moans sound like angels singing and when he riles him up by talking back, by talking dirty and taking control, well, it’s mind-blowingly sexy. Everything combined together and into one flawless experience, added with how unbelievably tight he is, makes the grind and slide of Jeongguk’s cock delicious. Just absolutely mouth-watering.
“So good, so good,” Taehyung gasps, trying to move with him, “don’t stop. Please, baby, don’t stop.”
Like he was ever planning to.
By no means are they strangers when it comes to overstimulation. Taehyung plopped onto the younger’s lap one day, shyly curled into himself in the annoyingly cute way he always does, and asked if Jeongguk could make him come twice in one night. A week of sexual tension and build-up later (thank their busy schedules), Taehyung’s smile is wiped off his face and he’s biting at his own pillows, breathless and coming dry with his second orgasm. Jeongguk came into a condom then ate him out, gripping his sweet thighs. Since then, they’ve tested Taehyung’s limits and eventually going two rounds was the norm for them.
On those rare days when Jeongguk is far too tired for another round, Taehyung will complain, whining into his shoulder about how the second one is always so much better, Gguk. Wanna feel with me? And then, like the tease he is, will finish himself off in front of Jeongguk with his ass up and face down, shoving a dildo up himself. Or riding Jeongguk until his thighs ache and the younger just gives up and gives into his temptations and thrusts up into him. Take, take, take, until they’re exhausted and passed out on their bed.
It seems like tonight is no exception. Jeongguk is riled up, energized and enthusiastic as he fucks into his boyfriend. He’s ruthless, his care slipping when he focuses on Taehyung’s hole swallowing him up so pliantly and invitingly. With that comes loud, wet sounds of precome dripping out of him.
“Messy,” he scoffs, grinning at Taehyung with lazy eyes. Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut with slight embarrassment, not even looking at his boyfriend. “Wouldn’t want the hyungs to see this—” he smacks his ass— “right?”
Instantly: “No, no—” his words stumble out, adjusting himself against the slick surface with strike after strike to his prostate— “don’t want them to see you.”
“Me?” Jeongguk’s eyes narrow, the corner of his lip tugging up into a smug smile. “Wouldn’t you mind it if they saw you like this? Basically drooling on me and taking me twice, on the wall…?” He lands another firm spank to his ass, hand colliding and eyes going down to watch the way his skin bounces and jiggles from their constant movements. “Do you not mind it at all?”
“Mhm,” Taehyung nods his head weakly, lips slightly pursed in determination. “Don’t care if they see me, honestly. Just don’t want anyone to see you ‘cause I’m the only one that gets to.”
Jeongguk hisses and fucks into him faster, his legs beginning to shake with the force of it. His hands tighten their grip on Taehyung’s soft thighs, squishing them and squeezing the flesh with the hope of punishment. The joints of his veiny hands curl to press his fingernails into the fat of his skin, and Taehyung bites his lip at the action of him leaving marks as a reminder of their time together.
Jesus. Taehyung can’t just say shit like that. He can’t just spit obscenities wrapped in possessiveness and lust and expect Jeongguk to not want to pound him until he’s fucking crying. He really shouldn’t be allowed to say that. Jeongguk has decided for once in his life that Taehyung needs to shut up, just shut the fuck up, for his own good or else he’ll come too quickly inside him. For someone who’s so soft and innocent outside of sex, Taehyung sure as hell surprises him sometimes.
“God, baby boy,” Jeongguk spits out, spanking him again. “You’re dirty. Bet my cock isn’t even enough for you, bet you need my fat fuckin’ cock in your mouth right now, don’t you, Tae?”
Admittedly, he gets possessive. Jeongguk makes sure everyone knows Taehyung is his and will always be. When Taehyung has the occasional accidental (and, sometimes, occasional intentional) wardrobe malfunction that results in his chest being exposed and he doesn’t have the chance to fix it himself without causing a frenzy, suddenly every person’s eyes that linger for too long are sent daggers. Backstage, he’ll yank his boyfriend by the collar and fix the slip-up for him before a stylist could even notice. Then, usually, he’ll touch Taehyung to remind him of who he belongs to.
Or that time when Jeongguk left for an important solo business trip for two weeks. When he came home, all his longing spilled out of him at night by fucking him until he was basically senseless. It was one of the times Jeongguk had fucked him hard enough to leave Taehyung genuinely speechless, and for someone who is always talkative during sex, it was quite the impressive merit. Actually, all he could do was sob with how deep Jeongguk was hitting him and then coming inside him until he was round and bloated. Jeongguk used and used him until the sun rose and, really, he wouldn’t have had it any other way. It became something to look forward to after long periods of time of separation.
“Yeah, yeah, yours, only yours—”
“So dirty. Gotta fuck it out of you, dumb fucking slut.” Jeongguk swears he sees red with how goddamn horny and mad he is. Mad at how unusually erotic Taehyung is today. He flicks at Taehyung’s long, hard, and twitching cock. “Whatcha’ gonna do with this big thing anyways?” He accentuates his point by landing a firm slap on his cock. “So fucking useless.”
Taehyung either curls into himself or chokes on a sob, he can’t tell. “Harder.”
Jeongguk grits, “You speak so dirty, gotta shut you up. Should slap you to teach you a lesson—”
“—Yeah, please, fuck me, slap me—”
A hand comes up and then it comes down. It arrives with force, with power, with strength, with anger and lust mixed together. Taehyung’s voice breaks over a moan of Jeongguk’s name, a single tear going down his right eye. The ring of it echoes in both his ears and in the room. Jeongguk panics for a second, thinking he’s seriously hurt Taehyung, but then he’s clenching around him tight and that’s how he knows. Taehyung likes being slapped.
Still, he massages the reddened skin there, the peach fuzz on his cheeks softer than the blankets they sleep on every night.
“Shit, so good,” Taehyung pants, thighs squeezing around Jeongguk’s waist tighter. “Wish I could have your cock in my mouth, though. Really wish I could have you everywhere.”
He loves every slap, every second that Jeongguk takes to degrade him. As much as he loves slow, gentle sex with Jeongguk, he craves this just as much. The harsh, unforgiving pace that leaves his lungs empty. The slaps to his soft skin. The visible outcome of their time together: all the hickeys, Jeongguk’s handprints against his ass, the long crimson scratches down Jeongguk’s spine. Even the words that linger inside his mind for weeks until they fuck again.
“Want me everywhere?”
“Yes, I want my mouth filled.” And then Taehyung opens his mouth, tongue out, and Jeongguk plops two of his fingers there.
He sucks happily on them. The more he mulls it over, the more he takes in all the gratifying sensations around him, the clearer it becomes that Jeongguk is the most attentive to him. He does not mind giving for Taehyung to take. Taehyung’s sensitivity and Jeongguk’s merciless way of pushing him around creates a perfect blend in bed. Jeongguk knows his boyfriend’s body as if it was his own, and his knowledge over it is so apparent when he shoves his cock inside at a perfectly calculated angle no matter the position, abusing his prostate so accurately that he feels like he could physically melt into a puddle. His attentiveness makes Taehyung jump in his seat on Jeongguk’s cock.
“Hah—Ggukie!” His moans become louder and more broken despite how muffled they are with the presence of Jeongguk’s fingers in his mouth. He tries to keep up with the way he thrusts them down his throat, lips closing and swallowing, trying to emulate how he sucks Jeongguk. “Pleasepleaseplease.” Nails claw down Jeongguk’s back in pure delight.
Even after two years, seeing Taehyung weak and begging for his orgasm will always be hot to him. “That’s not my name. What’s my name, sweetheart?”
Oh, it’s one of those nights…
Taehyung flushes in embarrassment, temporarily coming back down to Earth, shaking his head against Jeongguk’s chest when he realizes what he’s alluding to.
“Don’t,” Taehyung spits Jeongguk out of his mouth, pushing his hand away. “I’m not calling you that,” he huffs, pouting, head slowly coaxed into falling back against the wall and up by Jeongguk’s rock-hard cock pushing past his rim.
“That’s such a shame, baby.” Jeongguk’s hand teasingly comes down, slick fingers positioning themselves in a circular shape around the base of Taehyung’s cock along with his warm palm. It has Taehyung shivering and ready to thrust up, and for a moment he does try only to find that Jeongguk pushes his own hand away whenever he does. Jeongguk sends him a glare that tells him to not even try. “Guess I’ll just use your pretty little hole for tonight. You can fuck yourself on your fingers after, since you want to be a brat.”
Taehyung’s eyes narrow when he looks at the younger, his knees hitting the man’s fast paced hips.
“What do you think? I can stuff my cum inside you and leave you to fuck yourself with it. You just had to be a brat, hm? Could’ve come with me.” Jeongguk sighs, cock throbbing inside Taehyung, so fucking close to the brink. “Anything to say to me, angel?”
First and foremost, Taehyung regrets ever saying it as a joke in the first place. Secondly, he regrets making that joke ongoing. But most of all, he regrets ever letting it feed into Jeongguk’s kink (and if it’s his, too, then that’s no one else’s business). He had called him it during dinner with the band, of all places. Jeongguk had been too kind to him, honestly. He passed him the salt, passed him napkins, pressed a delicate hand over the small of his back when he got up to go to the bathroom, and all with a kind smile on his face. The one that makes his eyes crinkle first, then his lips curl second. So, naturally, when Jeongguk picks the spicy mangos off his plate for him, knowing he is adamantly anti-spicy food, Taehyung just says, “Thank you—”
“—Hyung.” He finds himself moaning, Adam’s apple bobs up and down with it, swallowing hard. He needs to moan it, he just really needs to get off right now, and the thought of being neglected an orgasm is unbearable. He doesn’t even care that Jeongguk will more than likely jerk off to the sound of it later. “Please let me come, I’m gonna come.”
Actually, when he thinks about meanwhile getting fucked six ways to Sunday, it hadn’t been the last time he had called Jeongguk ‘hyung’. Initially, he had laughed it off. A few weeks after the incident at dinner, Taehyung had said it at a concert, then at home, then…during bed. As a joke, of course, but to his dismay Jeongguk had wrapped a hand around his throat and then one around his own cock and jerked off and came on Taehyung. Since then, his boyfriend had been demanding him to call him that during bed when he’s in a mood, The Mood.
Jeongguk curses under his unruly breath, tongue lavishing the taste of sweat on Taehyung’s neck in simple, quick swirls of his tongue. His gut kicks, eyelids lowering into crescents, lazy, bedroom eyes that he can’t elevate. Mouth open, low rumbles of his chest escaping him.
“Fuck, you’re so hot, Tae,” he curses one last time, hips snapping at a brutal pace while Taehyung slowly slouches on the wall, their grips become shakier but tighter. “Hyung will give you what you want, okay?” One hand supports Taehyung’s back while the other wraps around his cock, jerking him off to the speed he fucks him at.
Taehyung twitches, his moans rising. Only ten thrusts later and a few jerks to his cock, he’s coming all over himself, his mouth parting into another cry of Jeongguk’s name. A very loud, very obscene moan that feels like it shakes the room. It hits him just as powerfully as the last, maybe a little bit stronger. He desperately clings onto Jeongguk, his legs kicking the space behind Jeongguk as his toes curl with elation. His kicks and full-body trembles eventually become weak, and with that weakness comes one final shutter of his body before he is engulfed in pleasure and relaxation. The skin that connects Taehyung to Jeongguk tightens, rim squeezing, and Jeongguk groans and holds him closer as Taehyung begins feeling the aftermath of the peak. His spine tingles, his eyes do not even dare to close although they so badly want to, so they resort to half-mast, and he cannot speak. He pants. Tears pull past the brink of his eyes and spill past his tinted red cheeks.
Jeongguk watches as Taehyung makes a mess of himself, his cock twitching in front of him and at a perfect angle to coat his soft stomach and brown nipples. He swears that as he fucks into Taehyung, he is unable to stop at all, hips moving like they are purely automatic. He can’t take this anymore, can’t hold back, his dick so fucking wet inside his Taehyung like he’s already come and he’s twitching like he’s about a second away from doing just that.
And it turns out he is, because only a few seconds later of instinctual thrusts of his hips, he’s coming inside his Taehyung, his hot cum filling him up wonderfully. His eyebrows furrow and his mouth opens to whimper Taehyung’s name into his ear, holding his ass tight against him to cum deep inside. He can’t even think, mind blissfully blank, and what keeps him coming is the sight of a sweaty, teary-eyed, and hickey-covered Taehyung under him and clinging onto him with cum on his belly, his legs spread to accommodate him. Sweat drips down the line of Jeongguk’s chest and he swears he can feel every little thing overtaking his body.
Jeongguk’s face melts with rapture, deep and intense and absolutely chilling with the way it runs down his whole body, then back up, then like puddles rippling across his muscles. He must feel really good, Taehyung thinks, because eventually he starts chuckling and tonguing at his cheek. He sighs and throws his head back, giving Taehyung a full view of his neck littered with his small, mild hickeys. Taehyung is about to giggle too when Jeongguk suddenly and without warning thrusts back, his cock softening as it meets Taehyung’s cum-filled hole, some of it spilling and drooling out of his hole.
“So good, baby…” he sighs as he fucks into him a little more. He faces Taehyung and he looks just about as wrecked as Taehyung feels. His eyes are glazed-over, his lips are swollen and red from all their kissing, and his abs shine with sweat. He looks nothing short of a God. “So fuckin’ good.”
His grip on Taehyung loosens and he brings him up again to steady him on his feet. Taehyung holds his forearms tightly until he can feel like he can stand on his own again.
They catch each other’s eyes in an endearing, shy look, smiles appearing on their faces.
“Oh, Tae, you have—” he holds his face between his hands— “you accidentally got some cum on your cheek.” Any other day he would absolutely take the opportunity to be dirty, but his dick is just starting to go down and Taehyung is too dangerous, and would probably keep seducing him until it’s two A.M. and it starts feeling fucking broken. So, he settles. He wipes it off with his thumb and rubs it away on his thigh. Whatever, though. He still takes the time to be a gentleman and kisses him on that very spot, then lifts up his hand to do the same.
“Thanks, Ggukie,” he whispers with sincerity.
Jeongguk slowly backs away, looking at his boyfriend with fondness one more time (he promises he’ll break his addiction soon), and presses a nimble, heartfelt peck on his lips. He knows how much it means for Taehyung to be kissed after getting fucked that rough. It shows when Taehyung returns the sentiment by kissing him square on the lips through spit-coated lips, smiling into it. Their lips fall into it airy and light, and Taehyung thumbs lightly at the scar on Jeongguk’s cheek, massaging it. He always takes his time after sex to quietly admire Jeongguk’s imperfections that oxymoronically make him perfect. His fingers twirl in Jeongguk’s hair and for the first time in a long time, amid busy schedules and unavoidable controversies regarding information gathered by stalkers, he feels safe. He feels human.
Jeongguk does not treat him like a plaything up for display, he treats him the way a constant in your life is treated. With the utmost protection and safety. Which gets him wondering…
“You didn’t actually leave the door unlocked, right?” He asks, still whispering, his mouth only parting a few centimeters from Jeongguk’s own that are restless and eager.
“No,” he confesses through a slight chuckle, grabbing Taehyung by the waist again—another thing he needs to work on because it has formed into a terrible, grand addiction.
“Good.” He knew Jeongguk would be smart enough to not actually put their relationship at risk. Jeongguk leans in to continue kissing him and Taehyung relents, letting their lips lazily move against each other for just a few more seconds before Taehyung places a gentle hand on his chest, motioning him to stop. “We should probably put our clothes back on.”
They spend the next few minutes looking for clothes and finding them in inconvenient places (e.g. Jeongguk’s Clavin Kleins under his desk, Taehyung’s panties somewhere along with the boxers, his red shorts sitting pretty way by the door, their shirts on a speaker, and Jeongguk’s pants all bunched up between a spare chair in the back and a bookshelf). They laugh together at the placement of the fabric and hand them back to each other, taking their sweet time with doing so because they know that when they leave the music studio they’ll be met with empty halls and have to take the long, grueling, thirty-two minute long drive all the way back home to Taehyung’s apartment. Technically, they could go to the dorms. They’re not quite ready to explain why their clothes are all sweaty and why Taehyung has white stains all over his shorts, though.
They talk steadily and in hushed voices about their arrangements after “work”: if they should go back to Jeongguk’s apartment instead; if they should have a special meal prepared for dinner; if Taehyung wants a bath and a massage for his now sore thighs. He says “yes” to it all. Think of it as an early celebration for Jeongguk nearly completing his mixtape.
Once Jeongguk has successfully collected this evening’s jackets and keeps Taehyung’s hovered in the space in front of his arms, Taehyung spills, pushing Jeongguk by the chest only an inch. “Brat.”
“What? What did I do?” He asks, taking little offense to whatever he’s just been accused of.
“Don’t ask me to call you ‘hyung’ ever again, Jeongguk-ah,” his cute boyfriend scolds, holding him between his shoulders and shaking lightly, his tone feisty enough to garner a sharp edge to his voice but not enough to pose an actual threat. “I’m the hyung here. Learn to respect your elders,” he says after putting his large jacket on and crossing his arms.
“Mm,” Jeongguk pretends to ponder, “I think you loved it, though…” He puts his own on.
Taehyung just skrunkles his nose, huffing and shuffling his feet to the door. So, Jeongguk follows him, hand on the knob.
“And you love me, too,” the younger whispers, a hand gently curling into Taehyung’s hair. He kisses the side of his head, landing somewhere between fluffy hair.
“Yeah, whatever. I guess I do.” And Jeongguk just gives him that smile that makes him give up his bratty facade and uncross his arms, relax his face and look Jeongguk in the eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
He opens the door. They walk out hand-in-hand.