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[You’re absolutely lovely like this. A star without any need for glamor or editing.]
Kim Soleum released a noise from the back of his throat—a warble, something akin to the song of a bird. “Ahhhhh.”
A tear ran down his red-hot cheek, dripping to his chin, and running down his neck. He was in absolute bliss, yet it felt like too much. His entire body was on fire. His skin felt raw. He was exposed too much, laid bare for all to see, but he was also overheated while in Braun’s hold.
He felt Braun’s overly large fingers wrap around his throat, his hand easily encasing Kim Soleum’s thin neck, making Kim Soleum feel so tiny in comparison.
He was nothing but a toy in Braun’s hands, something thin, fragile, and breakable.
[There you are. My friend, you look most divine when you’re like this.]
It was like Braun’s voice was projected straight into his head. It was not coming from a speaker; it was more intimate and louder than that.
With Braun inside him, he felt like a sleeve or a puppet. Braun was the one in control of him—Kim Soleum had no rights to his body. Braun was his only reason for existing, the only reason why Kim Soleum could live in this state without fear.
[Open your eyes, will you?]
His eyelids felt too heavy to blink open. His lashes were clumped together with tears and sweat.
How long had he been out here? He had other work to do to help the late-night television show. He had other interviews to schedule.
There was only a single camera and a chair in this room. Braun sat in the chair, and Kim Soleum sat on Braun. The camera was on, yet Kim Soleum knew that it was not a live recording. He was aware that Braun was too possessive to share what he saw in this room.
He was sticky and abused, his hole gaping and red. His body was filthy and covered in marks that Braun had made by being too rough with his human exterior.
Kim Soleum felt Braun’s fingers around his throat, large and misplaced, unsure of where to hold.
Braun was careful about the oddest things, never wanting to push too hard or else he’d see Kim Soleum break apart. It’s not like there was much else left to do.
Kim Soleum had been ruined since the first time Braun suggested they meet in this room after the show.
[Friend, won’t you look at me?]
Kim Soleum wanted to listen to Braun. He peeled his eyes open forcefully, and met Braun’s gaze. Or what could be considered his eyes.
The television flickered, and then an emote of pleading eyes stared him in the face.
[One more.]
There would always be another. One more, one more, one more. This was Braun’s third one more, and Kim Soleum knew it would not be the last.
Kim Soleum would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it every time. He felt at home when Braun was shoving his cock in him, burying himself inside until Kim Soleum didn’t feel any pain.
“Br– Braun,” he croaked when he looked at the pale yellow emote.
Braun’s hand, which was resting on his back, rubbed gently at his shoulders, soothing him. It was humane, companionable. It was affectionate despite how monstrous his stamina was.
“It’s—” Too much, he wanted to say.
The words never left him. Some part of him wanted more. He needed more than this. One time was the least of what he needed. A few more times was what he should have asked instead.
A few more times, and then he could rest. He would fall asleep with Braun inside him, pass out while covered in fluids, and then wake up in Braun’s bed, feeling more refreshed than he had in days.
[I know what you need.]
Braun’s fingers tightened around his throat. Kim Soleum breathed in through his nose, but no air filled his lungs. His eyes widened, a flicker of fear making him shiver in place. His dark eyes reflected Braun’s screen as his emote disappeared, only leaving the black, gray, and white snow in its place.
[This Braun will fulfill his friend’s desires.]
Kim Soleum did not know what was happening at first. His vision became blurry— the room faded around him, the noise in the air became nearly nonexistent, and his eyes slowly drooped close.
And then he was suddenly gasping for air, like he had been dragged out of water and given life again. Braun lifted him off, not allowing Kim Soleum to sit any longer in his lap. His rest was over.
Braun lifted Kim Soleum by the neck and then pushed him back down in the same way. Kim Soleum gurgled, his stomach muscles twitching as he was plunged back on Braun’s girth. It filled him wholly and completely.
The grip around his neck became looser, but no less in control or dominant. Braun left marks that Kim Soleum would bare for weeks, his thumb leaving a particularly deep divot beneath his chin.
In the morning, Kim Soleum’s body would be littered with purple marks, a claim to show that he was still Braun’s, even if other ghost entities showed up and took an interest in him.
Kim Soleum had been pierced. He had been slain. He felt the way he enveloped Braun’s cock, and he moaned nonsensically as he wondered how much of the girth was protruding and showing. Kim Soleum was so small in comparison, after all.
If he looked down, would Braun’s girth have a clear outline on his stomach?
Kim Soleum tried to look down, but Braun’s fingers were too large. He couldn’t tilt his head down far enough to look between them, or even attempt to see how they were connected.
Drool dripped from the side of his mouth, spilling down his chin, some of it smearing across his cheek when Braun patted him fondly.
Braun could read every single thought he had, couldn’t he? Kim Soleum looked at Braun, delirious from pleasure. His eyes were half-lidded, his lips raw from being bitten when he first held back his moans. Now, he did not bother to hide.
He was performing for Braun, here. A show only for the two of them, and whenever Braun rewound the tape in the future to look back at how they could have been for all eternity.
There was no reason to stop the way he whined as Braun lifted him off of his cock, and then pushed him back down.
Kim Soleum’s body went with the movements, his wobbly knees trying to help in any way possible, all with the need to be filled and to feel Braun scrape at his insides. He was thick and large, something he designed himself. He was hot, too, burning Kim Soleum from the inside out. His wiring overheated as time went on and on without pause.
The way that Braun dragged it out was rough. He was slow, watching with satisfaction as Kim Soleum impatiently groaned for more. He wanted it. He needed it.
“Braun,” he wept, pleading. He had never been above begging when it came to Braun. “I need it.”
Braun’s hand dropped from his neck, to fall to his side and grip Kim Soleum tightly. His other hand stayed in place on his back, keeping Kim Soleum up. His muscles were overused by now, abused from it all. His thighs shook with effort as he tried to meet Braun's thrusts, to be filled further, to become numb.
[I am here. Never worry. I will give you everything you need.]
Kim Soleum only showed the faintest smile in relief before he was choking on a moan. Braun thrust in him, and pushed Kim Soleum’s body until they could have been mistaken for one being, melded together and formed as one.
Braun used Kim Soleum until he could not see, until he could not feel. He was lost in the pleasure, a sobbing mess of fluids and want. Kim Soleum’s voice was scratchy as he moaned with his release, Braun pounding into him gently through it as he lost his goddamn mind.
Kim Soleum didn't know when he fell unconscious, but when he awoke, it was to a blank white room.
Braun was patting him on the head. His fingers ran through Kim Soleum’s hair, and the emote on his screen had pink cheeks, like he was embarrassed to be caught.
He smiled fondly up at Braun, and asked, “What needs to be done for tonight’s show?”
They had been so busy after the show, that it turned into morning. It was now time to rehearse for the segments tonight.
Braun hummed, the static filling the air. He removed his hand from Kim Soleum after a long moment, folding his hands together. Kim Soleum sat up on the bed, and prepared to get ready for a busy day.