Work Text:
When Kim pressed his plush lips against yours for the first time, cornered between a brick wall and a graffitied garbage bin near the precinct— highly unprofessional!—you nearly died right there. It was a light kiss, the tiniest bit of pressure against your own chapped lips, but it was enough for your lungs to flutter and your stomach to do backflips.
Then it was over. Kim leans back, the afternoon sun casting orange tints over his features. He licks his lips, eyes trained on your eyes for a split second before looking away. He ruffles his aerostatic pilot jacket and slides a leather hand down your chest, attempting to iron out any wrinkles on your shirt to no avail. “Khm—we should hurry. We need to report our findings before it gets dark.” He says.
You nod dumbly, chest glowing. Before he walks away, you can see a small smile on his lips. A beacon for you to follow.
It became a habit, participating in unprofessional touches during work hours. A brush by your waist when he passes by, the tickle of his mustache on your ear when he peeks over your shoulder, a quick nip on your lips when he thinks no one is looking. A Kim-of-before would be highly disapproving of such childish acts, letting himself participate in such fraternizing workplace behavior, but the Kim-of-today has been tainted by your influence. Bewitched by your greasy hair and off-putting grin. You can feel the expression creep up into your face, buried into Kim’s shoulder.
Kim never labeled your relationship together, but he doesn’t object to your romantic tendencies. He clearly knows his boundaries, swatting your hand away after it stays a second too long in public. In private though, he keeps your calloused hand in his. His gloved fingers— why doesn’t he take his gloves off?—curl between the crevices of your meaty ones. The skin of your hand starts to stick uncomfortably with his leather, but you’re hesitant to move away for even a second, as if he would disappear into pure static if you let go of him. Swept away by Autumn winds.
He shifts in your hold, eyes closed but still awake. It was a late Friday after a terrible run-off with one of your cases, who you chased down through all of Jamrock for it to be not the man-in-question, just a delinquent who cared too much about a petty offense he caused. The sun was gone hours ago and Kim invited you to his apartment. He never invited you to his apartment before, now he lays in your arms like putty on his terrible sofa. One hand holds onto yours, resting on his chest as the other drapes over your side. You took off your jacket ages ago, but he fell onto the couch with no move to change. A slip from his usual tight-knit discipline.
You stare at his face, the strands of his hair sticking out from his gel, the round glasses that's pushed awkwardly on his nose bridge. His short lashes rest against the wrinkles of his eyes, decades of labor and prejudices imposed into his body. He is undeniably handsome.
His eyes slowly blinked open, squinting to adjust to the lighting. Chocolate brown eyes watch you. “I can hear you thinking, detective.” He raises a brow.
You take a moment, gathering all the possible words to put in a sentence that encapsulates all of your thoughts into something comprehensible before fingertips grip your chin and a warm mouth reaches yours. You return the kiss vigorously, a new sense of urgency brewing in you as you groan. You are starving for his touch, and he is milking your attention ten folds. You can feel him smile, before biting your bottom lip, teasing it with his tongue.
You moan at the sensation, and his tongue darts into your mouth as a reward. It rolls along your molars and slides along your tongue, forcing saliva to fall down your mouth.
He pulls away, a whine bubbles out of you. Kim chuckles, “Impatient, are we Harry?”
“ Kimmmm ,” you pant. “You’re—you’re just so sexy.” Kim grins. He adjusts his glasses before shuffling yourself on your back and placing himself on top of your stomach, bony ass plush above your groin. He drags his hands up your abdomen slowly, folding over each bulge of fat before landing on your tie. You shiver as he rubs the fabric between his index and his thumb, before pulling the gaudy tie.
You gasp, sparks flying through your body and ending between your legs. Instinctively, you reach for his lips again, pushing your tongue out to lick his full lips but he moves again. Kim digs his nose into the meat of your shoulder and suddenly bites—hard.
“Aah!— Kim!”
“Is this okay?” He murmurs, licking the indents with care.
“Yes-please—“ you croak. Your underwear is soaked through the bones, thighs strained from rubbing them together to put pressure on your hole. You hope that Kim fucks you, milking your cunt with his slender fingers and rubs your fat dick between his knuckles like you’ve done to yourself numerous times before. Maybe he would spit in your mouth if you ask him.
“Good boy,” he hums. Your heart throbs painfully at the name. Kim’s cock lays on your stomach, layers of clothing apart. You can feel it jump when another moan tumbles out of your mouth, his teeth nipping lower onto your collarbone as he unravels your tie.
“You are…” He rubs his cheek against your chest hair. His mouth opens, but no words fall out, helplessly dumbfounded. “Mmh…” He instead smashes his lips back onto yours, teeth clacking with a wet sound. You swallow a small gasp as you rest your hands on his thin waist, still covered with his jacket and shirt.
A hand travels between you, ignoring the owner’s throbbing dick and—yes!— landing on your damp crotch. Before it stops.
Kim parts once more, despite your pathetic whine. His face is blank—he is confused—as he pats between your legs. Your leg twitches as he palms directly on your dick. The cogs in his head are moving on overdrive.
“Harry,” Kim coughs. He doesn’t know how to word this—word what?
“Um, did I do something wrong?” Panic starts to overtake you, bile building in your throat. You jolt up, hitting Kim directly in the face with your giant head. He clutches his nose, groaning. “Sorry! Fuck- we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. You don’t actually like me do you?” Voices pile up in your head, spilling out of your ears with eternal self-loathing.
“Stop,” he places a hand on your shoulder, the other still nursing his nose. “…Don’t put words in my mouth, I do like you,” There’s an unspoken ‘but.’ He adjusts himself on your lap, he hasn’t moved from your grasp at all. A pregnant pause.
“I must’ve misread the situation,” Kim finally says.
“What?” You blink, incredulous. He starts to stand up but you grab him at his wrist. He’s leaving.
“Wait!”
Kim talks first. “I don’t want this to be one-sided, detective. No need to faux pleasure for the sake of my personal satisfaction.” A flicker of embarrassment flickers through his expression before it disappears—he doesn’t like it when people deceive him, to lie to him right in front of his face. He’s feeling insecure. He thinks you’re not aroused.
“I’m not lying!” You blurted. He raises a brow. “I mean—Kim, you’re so bangable! I don’t think I’ve been so wet in my entire life.”
“...Wet?”
You’re too eager. Pushing back the dread of exposing your disgusting body, you unbutton your trousers fast, shimming it to your knees to expose your sticky underwear. You pull it down too, slick sticking to the fabric before it snaps. Kim pauses again, absorbing the handful that is your leaking cunt, the engorged dick that sits between your folds.
“Ah—“ He coughs, adjusting his glasses. “I’m, uhm—” The humid, masculine smell overwhelms his nose, ears tinting red.
He regains his composure. “I apologize, Harry. I shouldn’t have assumed you were cisgender. That was completely insensitive on my part.”
“Cis-gender?” What is that?—Nothing’s coming up, sire. Is it like homo-sexual? Another secret underground that’s so mysterious that it was a secret to yourself also?
“Yes…” Kim studies your face, trying to gauge your expression. “Do you… not remember being transgender?”
His eyes are flickering insistently from your face to your hole. You close your legs, feeling a wave of embarrassment overwhelming you. “Was I supposed to know that?” You smile, trying to seem nonchalant. You probably look terrifying—you are terrified. Is your body unusual?
A twitch at the dimple of his cheek, the muscles in his face working overtime, then a tiny huff. Kim is trying really hard not to laugh—he doesn’t want to offend you.
“Of course… retrograde amnesiac detective of Precinct 41st can can-open his life back from the Pale, but fails to remember an important aspect of his being.” Another stifled laugh slips out.
He places a single hand over your right pec, feeling the pump of your heart underneath flesh and bone. “Your body is a bit different than mine-but nevertheless I still find you very attractive, Harry.”
He squeezes your pec, drawing a surprised moan. “You find me attractive?” You say—fear siphoning out of your body as he continues pressing on your dense muscle.
“Mmh… very,” Kim hums. He sits up and removes his jacket, watching as his firm body stretches and contorts beneath the V-neck of his tank top. His ribs are visible, but padded with the decades of police work he accumulated. His dark eyes watches down at you, like a predator looking at his prey.
He makes quick work of your tie and shirt, spreading it open to reveal the expansion of dark hair on your chest and belly. His eyes glance at the pale pink scars underneath your pecs, before curling his leather fingers in your chest hair—he’s admiring the view!
“You are very… hairy,” he leans down and licks your areola. Your breath quickens. “And chubby,” his tongue reaches your hardened nipple, pulling a whine from you. “I like that,” he murmurs, before suddenly biting the hard bud.
You yelp, then moan as he suckles and nibbles on the nub before pulling off. You realize how burning red your face is, compared to the cold saliva that coats your nipple. “Please, stop teasing me or I will die,” you choked out.
“Hmm? What was that?” Kim purrs.
“Kimmmm—“ He silences you with a burning kiss, a hand tangling itself into your hair and pulling you into his hold. It hurts— it feels so good and you moan into his mouth. You can feel Kim’s dick throb in his pants. He loves controlling you.
He withdraws and removes his gloves, one by one. The sound of crisp leather pulling away from his slender hands has you watching with extreme dedication. His hands are gangly and pale, unlike your own thick and dry. You can smell the fresh sweat and old motor oil that lives in his skin.
“Khm—Forgive me, but I may need some guidance,” Kim says, placing his bare hands on your upper thighs, fingerprints feeling like hot lava against your skin. “…What would you like me to do, Harry?”
You thought of it already in your head, ways Kim can pin you against a wall, against a desk, and eat you out like no tomorrow. Him sucking and licking on your dick while he holds you down. You want him to explore his small touches at the silk mill into something heavier—but you know he wouldn’t allow it. You shrug the thought as you maneuver him fast, highly aware about how curious and eager Kim looks. It’s cute.
You settled on yourself sitting upright on the couch, all clothes shed with legs spread on the cushions as Kim kneels on a pillow on the floor. His hands rests on your ankles as he garners a full unhidden look at your cunt, a garden of dark sticky hair surrounding it. It feels rather clinical, dark eyes calculating your genitals. His brows start to worry, which struck a string in your heart.
“Kim, Kim, Kim,” you pet his thinning hair. “You’ll be okay. Just put your mouth on me and I’ll tell you what to do, okay?”
“Okay,” he nods, face softening as you pat his head. He scoots forward and finally, he licks a path between your lips, impossibly wet and slippery. It sends a pulse of electricity up your spine. His eyes flicker to your face, before closing and doing it again, and again. Feeling every soft fold that makes you quiver and moan, filling his mouth with a bitter, metallic taste that’s wholly you.
“You’re so good at this…” You groan. His tongue drifts upwards, testing licks rubbing your fat dick and you jolt hard with a loud gasp. Hot liquid throbs in your core. Kim parts away from your cunt. Your slick covers his juvenile mustache and full lips, a tongue peeking out. His face has become very red, glasses askew and foggy.
You curl your fingers that rest on his skull and push him back onto your dick, and he moans. A throaty sound that vibrates against you, his round nose resting in the bush of your pubic hair. He redoubles his efforts, bobbing and licking your swollen dick with vigor. He’s eating you like it’s his last meal, savoring the deep smell of sweat and arousal with bliss. It fits perfectly in his mouth. “Mmh,” you groan, spreading your uncomfortably spread legs even wider, “Fuck-fuck! Kim—“ You’re the wettest you’ve probably ever been in your entire life, you can feel a puddle growing underneath your ass. Your core is tensed like a bowstring, mouthy groans emitting from every lick and stroke.
Kim can barely breathe in the depths of your fatty thighs, but he loves it. Loves it embarrassingly so, the pounding of blood in his ears masks the gross suckle sound his tongue is causing against your dick. His tongue swirls around your dick, and you moan desperately and the spit-filled sound. His cock jumps in his pants. He’s mortified by his own brazen actions—but he loves it. Diligent boy.
Your cunt flexes and clenches, hole feeling very neglected during the open assault on your cock. It craves for the thin piano fingers that’s indenting in your fat thighs.
“Kim, Kim! Put a finger in me, please,” you pant, your hips following his face when he pulls off suddenly. Kim says nothing as a hand gravitates towards your heat, as if he was ready for this moment for ages. He rests his wet cheek in the crevice of your leg, eyes hazy as his index finger slides up and down your wet cunt, using it as lubricant.
Kim puts light pressure on your entrance, nibbling his bottom lip anxiously. You inhale through your teeth. “Is this… good?” He asks, seeking further directions.
“Yes, yes, yes please-god,” your voice hitches when the digit presses further until breaching your hole with little resistance, slick muscle fluttering and throbbing around the bony finger.
You can hear his breath stutter, enamored by the slick and hot grip on his digit. Kim pulls out until his last knuckle, then pushes in the entire length of his finger. White hot pleasure flashes in your core. His eyes seem to watch every ripple of muscle and soft fat that twitch and jiggle in his grasp, it’s embarrassing how much he milks you in his gaze.
You involuntarily flex your body—your hard sown muscle is still here! The glory days still exist inside you, a hot bod that Kim would very much love. It’s only hidden under the cycle of grief and abuse you caused yourself—and Kim hums pleasantly, a clinical smile on his face. You’re sloppy wet around him, his finger pushing and prodding in your pink cunt. In and out. In and out. Grunting in time with your breathy moans. Your mind turns to a wet puddle.
“Another finger—please!” You begged, and he complied. He sticks another finger into your hole, pushing in seamlessly into the heat. He continues to rub the pad of his fingers against your walls, stroking slowly through every bump and valley until he finally hits the itch deep in your core. It’s not that different from a prostate.
You wail, spit dribbling from your open mouth like a faucet. Kim leans against your face, swollen red lips against your thin ones—before he licks the edge of your slack jaw, down to the dimple of your chin.
“Please-ple-as-ee, Kim!” You whimpered. You’re so close, the vulgar wet noise filling your ears as his fingers practically punches into your spot inside you, curled perfectly in each stroke.
“Are you close, Harry?”
“Yes, yes-yes! Kimmmm—” He put his mouth back on your swollen dick and you see white.
“Fuck…fuck—!” Your jaw drops open as you cum against his face, a silent wail with a desperate, almost pained expression. Tears freely fall down your ruddy cheeks as you feel your cunt gushing and squirting against Kim’s continued attack against your core. Kim gasps in surprise by the sudden hot liquid against his face, his tongue, but he continues. You feel his hand slapping and twisting your nipple until it burns sweet red and you grab his head like a lifeline and cry—he’s not stopping. You're a flesh of pleasure.
“Ki-hii-himm!” You whine, squeezing him like a vice grip between your legs, your hole. Every pound of his fingers, every suckle and roll of your oversensitive dick along his tongue milks the stream of your hot cum against his face, drinking in your pussy.
“Ah, ah-shit…” Kim’s fingers slow its strokes inside of your cunt, pulling his face off to breathe—his face is a glowing shade of red, sopping wet from your cum, hair gel sweated out of his scalp. His thumb replaces his mouth as it rubs gentle, slippery circles around your cock, like a delicate kiss. You hiss at the sensation, legs buckling. His hot breath smells like your humid wet hole.
“Holy shit…” Kim whispers. “What…?” His pupils are blown black, hazy and unfocused—his wet glasses fell off his head ages ago, but he doesn’t care. He feels like a young man again, making you scream against his fingers, loving that the slick sticking to his skin is from you . He wants to fuck you so bad, ravish your body with his mouth, his teeth, his cock—but he doesn’t think he can even last one second inside of you before cumming prematurely.
“Fuck, fuck…” Kim removes his hand from inside you, causing you to squeal. Your breath hitched as you realized he was soaked , from v-neck tee down to the prominent wet patch in front of his torque pants. The smell of your pure essence clinged on Kim’s body like parfum, overwhelming his senses with lust.
He’s hurrying, slippery fingers fumbling with the clasp of his waist belt—you giggled at the sight—then finally tugging it off with a sharp click. He shoves his briefs down and groans, his cock finally exposed. You can smell Kim’s natural musk souring your nostrils, brown foreskin shiny from his leaking cockhead.
He immediately starts stroking the tip of his dick with his palm, tearing a broken moan from his throat. You can see your slick shine in between his knuckles, wetting his cock even more. That turns Kim on embarrasingly so. “Fuck, fuck—Harry!” He groans.
Cum jets out in between his fingers, marking your wet lips and pubic hair, your stomach—even reaching your sore chest. Your breath hitch at the warm stripes of cum, rubbing your fingers in the mess while he still milks his cockhead, twitching at the sensation. It seems like Kim even likes overstimulating himself.
Soon his hand grips your leg yet again, heaving desperately as he recovers from his most embarrassing orgasm yet. Finally, his eyes flutter open and look at you. He looks away. “Khm… I think I could’ve done better.”
“Are you joking Kim? You were amazing, I literally squirted all over you—I couldn’t even do that!”
“Ah…” Kim’s ears turn red at the idea that he was able to make you squirt, when you couldn’t do it yourself.
“Of course, I won’t stop you if you want to make me cum even harder next time. Maybe you could fuck me this time?”
Kim smiles despite himself. “Maybe we should clean up first, you and I both know we don’t have the endurance for another quarrel.”
He helps you up, almost guilty over the way your legs shake as he leads you to his bathroom. You will remember how fondly Kim looks when he helps you wash your grimy hair, fingers combing through your scalp with care. Kim will remember the sight of your naked body as you lean against his sink, talking about the homemade marmalade Trant had given you days ago. You hope he stays. Kim hopes too.