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its all in a box in the entryway. wont be there til late but my dads home just let yourself in.
The stupid text ruins Wooyoung’s entire morning. He responds as plainly as possible—“k”—and sits through his classes half despondently until he can make the trip over to his ex’s house to collect his things.
Wooyoung barely obeys traffic laws as he heads to the Kim household. He’s usually a more diligent driver, but he just wants to get this over with. After today, nothing will tie him to that asshole he decided to date. He’ll be fucking free.
The wound is still awfully tender, though. He calls Yeosang for moral support as he parks in the driveway.
“He couldn’t have dropped it off?” Yeosang complains when Wooyoung relays his location. “Fucker.”
“I know,” Wooyoung groans. Cheats on him and has the audacity to make Wooyoung drive halfway across town to retrieve the random odds and ends of his belongings? As if gas money grows on trees.
Wooyoung slams his car door shut and takes a deep breath. Whatever. At least he won’t have to see the bastard. He’s not sure if he would cry or throw a punch first.
“You should egg the place on your way out. Or hide a dead fish in his room. Oh, you could put bleach in his shampoo—”
Wooyoung snorts. “He’s not worth the effort.”
“Weirdly mature of you, but okay.”
He pushes open the door, unlocked as promised, and peers into the entryway. There’s a small box on the ground. Wooyoung kneels down to sift through the contents and make sure everything is there.
“If anything’s broken I’m going to kill him.” A few assorted articles of clothing, his spare toothbrush, a textbook, a tiny overnight bag of cleansers and skincare, a phone charger, his extra joy-cons…
“As you should.”
There’s a bottle of cologne that Wooyoung gave as a gift—as if he would want that back. To wear himself? Disgusting.
But—
“I can’t find my jacket.”
“Hm?”
“My leather jacket? I know I forgot it here last time I was over...” Wooyoung says. He checks again, but the box is the size of a milk crate, he’d hardly be able to miss his entire jacket.
“Is there a coat closet or something you could check?”
Wooyoung glances around. There’s a small hall closet right by the door, and he knows there’s a larger one just up the stairs near the bedrooms. “Ugh, his dad’s home though. I think I’d die if he saw me poking around like a creep.”
“You’re just looking for your jacket, not doing anything weird.”
“That’s true…” Wooyoung pointlessly rechecks the contents of the box. No luck, of course. He sighs. “Listen, I’ll call you when I’m heading back. I’m gonna go look upstairs.”
“Okay…” Yeosang’s voice is hesitant. “Call if you need anything. I could be there in ten minutes.”
“Thanks, Sangie. See you later.”
He ends the call. It’s eerily quiet without Yeosang in his ear. Mr. Kim is home, apparently, but Wooyoung hasn’t heard any signs of life from deeper in the house. But he’s resolved to find his fucking jacket. Leather does not come cheap and he is not going to leave without it. He takes a peek in the hallway coat closet—no luck—before glancing up the stairs towards the bedrooms.
His familiarity with the house does nothing to ease his nerves as he creeps up the stairs. He knows he’s not doing anything weird, like Yeosang said, but it is a little beyond his initial intention to pop in, grab the box, and immediately leave.
The upstairs closet door creaks way louder than anticipated as Wooyoung opens it. He wants to scream. Instead he takes a deep breath and counts to five. When he hears nothing from deeper in the house, he lets himself start digging through the closet. He pushes past old winter coats and out of season sweaters as he looks, knocking things off their hangers unintentionally. He finds nothing.
“Excuse me?” Comes a voice from behind him. It is undeniably annoyed. Wooyoung startles.
“Oh—hi, Mr. Kim…”
“Is there a reason you’re in my house?” Mr. Kim squints at him, as if trying to recall a memory. “Jung Wooyoung, right?”
Wooyoung fights the twinge of annoyance at his name barely being remembered. It’s not like he dated the guy’s son for the better part of a year.
“Yeah. I came by to pick up my stuff? But my jacket was missing, I was just trying to find it…”
Mr. Kim frowns. “You should know better than to just go looking through someone’s things without permission.”
“Uh—”
He steps closer and peers into the closet. “And making a mess, did no one ever teach you any manners?
Wooyoung seethes. He’s on his last fucking straw. “I wouldn’t even be here if your stupid fucking kid had packed up my stuff correctly!”
Mr. Kim stares him down for a moment, waiting for Wooyoung to backtrack on his words. Wooyoung holds his ground and stares back, brow furrowed.
And… huh. It’s been a while since he’s seen Mr. Kim, Wooyoung realizes. His ex-boyfriend lived with his father, who was often working late or away on business. Wooyoung only ever saw him briefly, making their home just a few minutes off campus a much more preferable overnight spot than Wooyoung’s cramped apartment.
He’s handsome, of course, good genes and expensive clothes wasted on this family of absolutely intolerable assholes. Unfair.
Mr. Kim eventually must decide he’s above staring contests with pathetic college students in the middle of his home. He rolls his eyes, looking away. Wooyoung takes it as a concession of defeat.
He gestures towards the few jackets Wooyoung had carelessly knocked to the ground in his searching. “You’ll hang those back up nicely, and then I’ll help you find your jacket. Alright?”
Wooyoung flushes but at least gives a token grumble of displeasure. He reaches down to pick up each jacket. This should really feel a lot more humiliating. The whole messy breakup, and now being scolded by his stupid ex’s father… he should be in tears, making an hurried exit with his tail between his legs in shame. But there’s a sick sort of appeal in Mr. Kim’s callous attitude, in his firm confidence.
Maybe Wooyoung bends over a little more than necessary, sue him. He definitely does not preen when he can feel Mr. Kim’s eyes on him.
Wooyoung feels thoroughly chastised once the jackets are all neatly hung up on their hangers again—Mr. Kim even makes him redo one that wasn’t to his satisfaction. He feels warm all over in a way he didn’t anticipate.
“Okay, let’s find your jacket. It’s probably in the coat closet downstairs.”
“No, I already looked there.”
Mr. Kim looks mildly annoyed again with the admission, but shakes it off. “Oh-kay then.” He thinks for a second, his perfect nose scrunching. “Could you have left it in his bedroom? We can check there.”
“Maybe?” Wooyoung says. He doesn’t have a better guess. “Thanks for helping me look, Mr. Kim.”
“You really don’t—” Mr. Kim waves his hands with a wince. “You can just use my name. Hongjoong.”
“Oh, okay.” Wooyoung smiles. “Thanks, Hongjoong.”
Hongjoong leads him down the hall to a familiar bedroom. He winces as they step in. The room’s a mess, Wooyoung can’t believe he dated someone that lives like this. Another red flag ignored.
“I’ll check the closet. You look over there.” Hongjoong gestures Wooyoung towards a pile of clothes and random shit tossed on a beanbag in the corner. “What’s the jacket look like?”
“Uh, it’s a leather jacket, like motorcycle style.”
Wooyoung winces as he digs through probably dirty clothes, carelessly tossing things to the ground. A quick sift through the pile does not procure his jacket. He spots a small wastebasket, mostly paper scraps and random packaging and definitely not big enough to have a jacket in it, but he tips that over when Hongjoong isn’t looking. In the name of being thorough, and nothing else.
He double checks the jacket slung over the desk chair—not his—before his eyes catch on a framed photo sitting on the desk.
It’s the two of them, arms around each other and smiling where they stand knee-deep in the ocean. It was Wooyoung’s 21st birthday, and way, way too cold to stay at a beach house to celebrate, but that just made it more fun. The photo can’t capture the way they were happily shivering all the way down to their toes, or the cold Wooyoung came down with a week later. Picture Wooyoung looks so content, so in love, so blissfully unaware of the humiliation and heartbreak to come.
Wooyoung fumes. The absolute fucking nerve to still have that sitting out weeks after breaking up. How cruel. How shameless. He slams the frame face down on the desk so he doesn’t have to look at it anymore.
It’s a bit louder than intended, the sound echoing in the relative quiet. The glass might have cracked.
Hongjoong turns to him with a sharp look. “Hey, easy!”
Wooyoung rolls his eyes. “Sorry.” He doesn’t mean it. “Find anything?”
“It’s not this one, is it?” Hongjoong holds up a jacket he yanked from the closet and Wooyoung gasps.
“Yes!” Wooyoung crosses the room in three big strides to claim his jacket. He holds the leather lovingly to his chest. “Oh thank god.”
Hongjoong snorts. “You’re welcome.”
“Seriously, thank you.”
“It was no problem. Sorry for the… circumstances that caused it.”
That’s a diplomatic way of putting it. Wooyoung nearly laughs. “It’s fine. Thanks.”
Hongjoong runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead. It’s all dark, save for a few silver strands near his temples. Kinda sexy, Wooyoung thinks. He’s in a fashionably oversized button-up tucked into a well tailored pair of pants, every inch of fabric hanging off him perfectly. The guy has a kid already, what business does he have looking so attractive still?
“Let me walk you out,” Hongjoong says. He doesn’t wait for a response before he takes Wooyoung by the elbow and leads him out of the room. And it’s not like Wooyoung is even being difficult about it, but his grip is firm on Wooyoung’s arm regardless.
Wooyoung unsubtly checks him out as they walk down the hallway. This really should not be doing something for him, but it’s not Wooyoung’s fault that Hongjoong is hot. He greedily drinks up the sight. He trails his eyes over Hongjoong’s body and back up to the sharp lines of his profile and feels a little stupid with it.
Wooyoung can’t tell if he’s feeling exceptionally lonely or if Hongjoong is more attractive than he ever realized. Either way, he has an incredible idea. Or quite possibly a terrible one.
“I really do appreciate it, Hongjoong. You didn’t have to go through all that trouble…” Wooyoung stops at the staircase landing and puts his hand on Hongjoong’s forearm. “Especially after I looked through your things without permission.”
“It’s really no big deal.”
“Things have just been so hard lately,” Wooyoung says, dragging out the syllables and putting on his winning pout. He can’t exactly look up at Hongjoong on account of their heights, but he bats his eyelashes regardless. “Your kindness means a lot to me… I’ve been really lonely. I’m not used to being by myself anymore…”
“Uh—I’m sure that is... difficult.” Hongjoong’s brow furrows and he takes a tiny step back.
“I’m glad I got to spend time with you, it really made today better. I’d love to spend more time with you.”
“What are you—what?” Hongjoong says. “What do you mean?”
Wooyoung rolls his eyes. He’s already sick of the act, and drops it. “Come on Hongjoong, you know. Don’t you wanna take me to bed?”
“Jesus christ—”
“I know you checked me out earlier, you’re not sneaky. I’m sexy, right? You can say it.”
Hongjoong flounders for a moment and Wooyoung is thrilled to be the cause of it. He takes a bold step closer, drags a hand down Hongjoong’s arm.
“This is inapp—”
“Don’t you want me? I want you, Mr. Kim. So badly.”
Hongjoong exhales sharply. “You are a terrible liar.”
“Let me prove I’m being honest.”
Wooyoung kisses him then, and after a tense moment, Hongjoong kisses back. Thank fuck. Wooyoung kisses harder, throwing his arms over Hongjoong’s shoulders and trying to pull him close. He’s barely even deepened the kiss before he feels a groan pulled from his throat. God, he hasn’t felt want like this for… months really, long before the breakup.
Hongjoong kisses just as forcefully as his words. He slides a hand through Wooyoung’s hair to guide him, controlling the pace and Wooyoung’s movements easily. Wooyoung practically melts as Hongjoong’s tongue dips into his mouth, tasting him thoroughly. Hongjoong’s other hand finds his waist and tugs him close.
“Do you believe me now?” Wooyoung says when he pulls away. He trails a few more wet kisses down Hongjoong’s jaw. “I think I proved myself.”
Hongjoong looks exasperated. “Did that not get,” He waves a hand vaguely, “This out of your system?”
Wooyoung frowns. “I said I want you to take me to bed, not I want you to kiss me once then leave me high and dry.”
“God, you are… something else,” Hongjoong says. Wooyoung chooses to take it as a compliment, especially when Hongjoong leads him away from the stairs and back down the hallway.
Wooyoung pounces as soon as the door to Hongjoong’s bedroom closes, tossing his jacket over a chair and immediately claiming another kiss.
It’s intoxicating to kiss Hongjoong. Usually Wooyoung feels overzealous, like he’s too intense, too much, overpowering the kiss. But Hongjoong matches him, taking and taking for himself in a way that makes Wooyoung feel so wanted. He’s felt so soul-crushingly awful since the breakup, and having every nerve alight again is dizzying.
He gives a practiced roll of his hips against Hongjoong’s, pleased at what he feels. Hongjoong’s hips work against his in return, and Wooyoung wonders if he could make him ruin those slacks. It’s a tempting thought, but he has better plans.
Wooyoung breaks the kiss to drop to his knees.
“Can I?” Wooyoung asks, tugging at Hongjoong’s belt.
“Fuck, go for it,” Hongjoong says.
Wooyoung quickly unbuckles the belt and tugs Hongjoong’s pants down. He palms Hongjoong through his boxers for a moment before tugging those down to his ankles too.
“Wow, you’re sexy here too,” Wooyoung says, stroking Hongjoong to full hardness in his hands. “Even feels nice, I can’t wait to have you inside me.”
Hongjoong cringes at the words, but fucks into Wooyoung’s hand anyways. “Enough talking.”
“What, you don’t like my voice?” Wooyoung says. Still, he obediently sinks his mouth down around Hongjoong.
“Mmh. Is this the only way to get you quiet?” Hongjoong muses. Wooyoung moans obnoxiously around the cock in his mouth in response, pornographically over-acting. Hongjoong shakes his head. “Guess not.”
Hongjoong isn’t rough when he tangles a hand in Wooyoung’s hair, but he is present. Every bob of Wooyoung’s head or stroke of his hand happens only because Hongjoong allows it, the gentle pressure against Wooyoung’s scalp keeping him tethered. Wooyoung swallows him down, breathing deeply through his nose as he takes all that he can. Wow, he missed this.
“There we go, just like that,” Hongjoong murmurs.
When Hongjoong cautiously rocks his hips forward, Wooyoung takes it easily. The moans he wrenches from Hongjoong feel well-earned and have Wooyoung painfully hard in his pants.
Wooyoung pulls off, the tip of Hongjoong’s cock resting against his lips as he speaks. “Will you please fuck me?”
Hongjoong swears colorfully. Wooyoung slides his hands up firm thighs to grab a pert ass. Damn. If Wooyoung hadn’t already been dead set on getting fucked, he might have proposed the opposite.
“Please?” Wooyoung repeats. He gives a kittenish kiss to Hongjoong’s cock.
Hongjoong shudders. “Yes, I’ll fuck you.” When Wooyoung takes a half-second too long to stand, he continues, “Come on, get on the bed.”
Wooyoung scrambles up off the floor, shamelessly stripping out of his clothes as he walks to the bed. Hongjoong hums appreciatively at the sight. When he lays himself out over the soft sheets, Hongjoong quickly ditches his pants and follows. He rummages around in the nightstand for a bottle of lube before fitting himself right between Wooyoung’s thighs, a cocky smile on his face.
“No, take this off too,” Wooyoung tugs at the shirt Hongjoong left on. Hongjoong obliges and unbuttons it, shrugging it off to reveal an undershirt. “What the hell—that too, come on.”
Hongjoong chuckles as he strips the undershirt off. He has a few tattoos, which Wooyoung considers appreciatively, but his attention is quickly drawn somewhere else.
Wooyoung grabs two handfuls of Hongjoong’s chest, marveling at his body. “Ohh my god.”
“Wh—what is wrong with you?” Hongjoong says, only half chastising as Wooyoung gropes him unabashedly.
“You’re so hot, Hongjoong. How are you built like this?” Wooyoung leans in to lick a broad stripe up the planes of Hongjoong’s chest.
Hongjoong makes a strangled noise. Oh, Wooyoung loves this. He feels Hongjoong up to his heart’s content before Hongjoong eventually dislodges him and leans down for a kiss. Wooyoung sighs into his mouth. He feels giddy with anticipation as he feels Hongjoong reach out to grab the forgotten bottle of lube.
“Want me to, or do you…?” Hongjoong gestures with the lube.
“I’ll do it.” Wooyoung takes the bottle and drenches his fingers. “Just look pretty for me.”
Hongjoong looks like he barely avoids rolling his eyes. Regardless, he sits back on his heels, perched between Wooyoung’s spread thighs, and watches raptly.
“Go on, then.”
Wooyoung doesn’t tease, as much as he’d like to. He enjoys this, could gladly draw the process out and try to drive Hongjoong crazy, but he wants so desperately right now that he can’t stand the thought. His cock aches but he doesn’t even stroke himself, his focus elsewhere as he works himself open.
Hongjoong, to his credit, puts on a nice show. His eyes don’t leave Wooyoung for a moment, trailing over his body and lingering where Wooyoung now pumps two fingers into himself. Hongjoong strokes himself, too, taking a painfully slow pace. God, if that’s the pace he likes to fuck at, Wooyoung might die.
It’s not long before he’s relaxing around three fingers. It’s efficient but he puts on as much of a show as possible too—back arched, thighs spread, chest heaving—he is every single reason Hongjoong’s eyes look so dark with lust, and it’s thrilling.
“Okay, I’m ready,” Wooyoung says. Sliding his fingers out makes him feel immediately needy for something to replace them. He wiggles his hips a bit, hooks a foot around the back of Hongjoong’s thigh to pull him closer. “Put it in, fuck me, c’mon—”
“Have some patience,” Hongjoong says. He grunts with the stretch as he reaches over into the nightstand to grab a condom.
Wooyoung snorts. “Don’t hurt yourself, old man.”
“Awfully rude for someone who was just begging to get fucked.” Hongjoong slaps the inside of Wooyoung’s thigh lightly. Just enough to sting.
“Well, you’re not fucking me yet…”
Hongjoong levels him with a look as he tears open the condom packet with his teeth—and ah, yeah, he really is sexier with that little twist of annoyance in his eyes.
“You can’t help but mouth off, can you? Hm?” Hongjoong says and swats Wooyoung’s thigh again. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for a response. Wooyoung’s mouth opens and closes wordlessly. “Ah, now he’s quiet.”
Hongjoong grabs him under the thigh and with a heave of effort, Wooyoung is being bodily turned over. He ends up sprawled out on his stomach, gasping with surprise and something else.
“Shit.”
Hongjoong laughs. “You’re predictable.”
God, this should be so embarrassing but Wooyoung is burning.
“You’re annoying,” Wooyoung manages to rasp out. Still, he pulls himself up on his knees, pressing back against Hongjoong in encouragement.
“Mmhmm,” Hongjoong hums. He slides his cock against Wooyoung’s ass, leaving a tacky smear of lube. “What was it you wanted again? For me to… something you, I can’t remember. My memory is really going. Can you remind me, Wooyoung?”
“Fuck,” Wooyoung whines. “Fuck me, please, I need it.”
“Oh, you need it?” Hongjoong makes a pleased little sound at Wooyoung’s shamelessness. “So easy, aren’t you?”
“I am, I am.” Wooyoung might cry, he really might. He looks over his shoulder at Hongjoong smirking down at him.
“Good,” Hongjoong says simply, and then he’s finally, finally sliding in.
Wooyoung sags against the sheets with a moan of relief. Hongjoong pushes in slowly, politely giving Wooyoung time to relax and acclimate to the feeling. He thankfully doesn’t draw out his teasing any longer when Wooyoung wiggles his hips back to urge him faster.
Hongjoong’s hands press hard into Wooyoung’s waist as he rolls his hips. Wooyoung only has to beg him to go harder once before Hongjoong pounds into him just right and Wooyoung feels positively out of his mind already. He really did need this.
“Yes, right there, Hongjoong, fuck.” Wooyoung knows he’s being loud but he doesn’t care. Judging by Hongjoong’s pleasured sounds behind him, he doesn’t seem to care either.
“You feel great,” Hongjoong says. His breath comes out hissed when Wooyoung arches his back and intentionally clenches around him. He smacks Wooyoung’s ass lightly. “Easy.”
Wooyoung only moans at that, clutching onto a pillow for dear life as he rocks back into Hongjoong’s movements. Fuck, he feels so good, he can’t even remember the last time he felt like this. His heart is racing and he knows his back is already damp with sweat, and it’s incredible.
Though, he eventually tires of nearly smothering himself in the sheets. He reaches behind himself to grab Hongjoong’s thigh and slow him.
“Are you alright?” Hongjoong asks.
“Mm, just wanna turn over.”
Hongjoong helps rearrange Wooyoung onto his back, and then he’s fucking into him again, easily picking up his pace from before.
It’s much better like this, Wooyoung thinks. Now he can admire Hongjoong’s body and see his face, the sweat beading on his forehead, the lip caught between his teeth in concentration. He just has to lie on his back and let Hongjoong give, and give, and give so well Wooyoung nearly forgets his own name. He can even get Hongjoong to lean down, so he can bite at Hongjoong’s lip with his own mouth instead.
Hongjoong hikes one of Wooyoung’s legs up over his shoulder, pressing in deeper, and Wooyoung almost screams. Hongjoong practically bends him in half when he leans down to take another kiss.
When Hongjoong pulls away, he reaches towards the nightstand again and extracts a slim vibrator from the drawer. “Okay if I use this on you?”
“What, don’t think you can finish the job yourself?” Wooyoung goads. He’s too breathless for it to be particularly pointed.
Hongjoong rolls his eyes. Wooyoung feels dizzy.
“One day,” Hongjoong grabs Wooyoung’s thigh and snaps his hips forward hard. Wooyoung cries out. “You’ll learn,” Another thrust. “It’s not.” Again. “A competition.”
Hongjoong gestures again with the vibrator. When Wooyoung nods, he clicks it on. Wooyoung is not prepared for the way his whole body jolts as Hongjoong slides the vibrator against his neglected cock.
“Oh—!”
“Feels good, right?”
“Y-yeah,” Wooyoung gasps. His cock is dripping against his stomach and the toy.
“See? You’re going to come your dumb little brain out, and then you’re going to say, thank you, Mr. Kim,” Hongjoong says. He cruelly presses the tip of the vibrator right under the head of Wooyoung’s cock. “Can you do that? Have you learned some manners?”
“Fuck, oh my god,” Wooyoung babbles, “Yes, yes, I can do that, I can—Hongjoong, please—”
Hongjoong laughs, which shouldn’t be possible or nearly as sexy as it is considering he’s railing Wooyoung into next week.
“You fuck me so well, ah,” Wooyoung says, nearly a growl against Hongjoong’s lips. “Please, oh god,” he babbles.
“Yeah? Best you’ve had, hm?” Hongjoong says. His cockiness would be far more infuriating if he wasn’t so right.
“Hah—yeah, the best.”
Hongjoong kisses him deeply as a reward, his hips still rolling against Wooyoung’s perfectly.
Any remaining thread of bravado Wooyoung was holding on to is long gone. All he knows is Hongjoong, Hongjoong, the tight grip of his hand on Wooyoung’s thigh, the teasing twist of his fingers with the toy, the bruising pace of his hips. Wooyoung just clings to Hongjoong and lets the pleasure wash over him.
“There we go, you’re so sweet like this,” Hongjoong says. He sounds breathless at least, not nearly as unaffected as he tries to act. His head hangs forward, hair damp with sweat and his skin flushed with exertion. He leans in to give Wooyoung a kiss that’s mostly tongue and spit and heavy panting breaths. “So perfect.”
“‘M gonna come,” Wooyoung whines against Hongjoong’s lips. His face is wet, with drool or sweat or Hongjoong’s sweat, he doesn’t know. “I’m really—oh fuck, I’m gonna—”
“Come on,” Hongjoong clicks the vibrator up a speed and Wooyoung wails. “Come for me, let go, Wooyoung.”
Wooyoung comes so hard his vision goes white. He feels his release spatter all the way up to his chest. He might see God.
“Whathefuck—” Wooyoung gasps out in a rush, words lost in the noises he can’t control the volume of. He has to bat the vibrator away almost immediately, the pain-pleasure of overstimulation coming quickly. “Oh my god.”
He still feels like he’s having an out-of-body experience as Hongjoong pulls out. He watches Hongjoong strip off the condom and stroke himself frantically over Wooyoung. Before he has his wits about him enough to offer help, Hongjoong is curling forward with a gasped-out moan and adding to the mess on Wooyoung’s skin.
“Ah, fuck,” Hongjoong breathes. His hair is a mess and he’s drenched in sweat as he tries to catch his breath; it’s so sexy Wooyoung almost thinks about going again.
Instead he pulls Hongjoong close for another kiss. It’s sticky and disgusting where their bodies touch, feels like a thousand degrees in the room too, but Wooyoung doesn’t care. Hongjoong kisses him lazy and wet and sloppy and it’s all Wooyoung wants to think about.
“Didn’t hurt yourself, did you?” Wooyoung murmurs. “I wouldn’t want to be the reason you need to move into senior care.”
“You stop being sweet as soon as there isn’t a cock in you, is that it?” Hongjoong says. His smile is sharp with a laugh against Wooyoung’s mouth.
“Exactly. You’re getting it now,” Wooyoung says. Hongjoong pinches his thigh but kisses him again anyways.
Sometime later, after Hongjoong has disposed of the condom and kindly dampened a rag for Wooyoung to clean up with, he finally remembers.
“Oh, thank you, Mr. Kim,” Wooyoung says.
“Hm?”
“You said I was gonna come my dumb brain out and thank you for it.”
Hongjoong puts his face in his hands, embarrassed as if he wasn’t the one to say those words in the first place. “You’re welcome.”
Hongjoong indulges him in the afterglow for far longer than Wooyoung thought he would, stroking a hand through his sweaty hair until Wooyoung feels like his legs work again. Eventually, Wooyoung rolls himself out of bed and retrieves his clothes from the floor.
“You’re alright?” Hongjoong asks. “Don’t answer with a joke, I mean it.”
“I am, I swear. I feel great. That was amazing, Hongjoong,” Wooyoung says honestly. Maybe good sex really is the cure for a broken heart. He redresses and grabs his jacket as Hongjoong watches. “But I should probably go.”
Hongjoong nods. He pulls on a robe instead of collecting his scattered clothes. “Yeah. I’ll walk you out at least.”
Hongjoong leads him down the stairs with a hand on his waist, and even grants Wooyoung one last kiss with his goodbye.
“Get home safe,” Hongjoong says, holding the door open as Wooyoung hauls out his box of things. “Better days ahead, hm?”
Wooyoung nods. “Thanks again, Mr. Kim.”
Hongjoong waves as Wooyoung packs the box into his car. He disappears behind the front door as Wooyoung starts up the engine.
Wooyoung smiles. It’s turned out to be a rather good day, all things considered. He can probably skip his evening routine of crying into a pint of ice cream while whichever friend has been assigned to babysit his sad ass watches in concern. Maybe he can even bother Yeosang into hitting a club or two—the post-sex endorphins have him in high spirits.
He checks his phone to see a missed call from Yeosang, and several texts.
did u find it?
???
are u on ur way home?
wooyoung
hello
do you need me to head over
Oh shit. The last text was only a few minutes old, so Yeosang probably hasn’t sent out a search party yet—Wooyoung quickly dials his number.
“Hey, I’m on my way back,” Wooyoung says as soon as the call connects.
“Ugh, Wooyoung, I was getting nervous as hell. What took so long?”
“Sorry, just got… distracted? I’m all good though, I’ll explain when I get back.”
“...Okay.” Wooyoung can practically hear Yeosang’s eye roll.
“I’ll be home in a few, okay?” Wooyoung considers the ache in his muscles and laughs. “And text the guys. I wanna go dancing tonight.”