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Dalgona.
In-ho never thought the biggest turning point in his life would be something as seemingly innocent as a childhood treat.
The image of Player 456 using his tongue to fight for his life was seared into his brain as soon as he saw it. The resultant unbidden rush of arousal had been an anomaly after so many years - it only proved that he was still alive, his base instincts reacting to suggestive visual stimuli, despite his best attempts to kill the urges for good. Player 456 was most likely going to die on his knees in the sand, the last minutes of his miserable life wasted on humiliating himself. Just an anomaly, barely worth his attention.
Oh, how the Fates like to fuck with Hwang In-ho. Their vendetta has to be personal in nature.
The red of his tongue is even more vivid in person as it’s dragged across the length of In-ho’s straining cock. The same intensity accompanying the action is still there, only this time more flagrantly enthusiastic, the gloomy despair in his eyes replaced with mirth.
In-ho’s fingers weave into the curly hair as the flat of Gihun’s tongue meets the head of his cock again, slathering it with his saliva. Their eyes connect just as Gihun laps at the wetness on the slit, the corners of his mouth curling at the hiss In-ho can’t prevent from slipping out. The unfiltered glee on his face is a strong contrast to the heavy collar around his neck, but he wears it with insolent arrogance, as if he knows who should be wearing it instead.
The whole situation is teetering on the edge of danger. In-ho had imagined relaxing in the armchair, guiding and instructing with a tight fist clenched in his mop of hair, Gihun flustered and uncertain - but the complete opposite has taken over, and In-ho is struggling to remain still, all muscles pulled taut as he’s teased and manipulated in the most playful manner possible. In-ho releases the hair and returns his arm to rest on the back of the chair, needing minimal contact to restore his self-control. Gihun is shameless, eager to play with the boundaries he has set; only the false innocence he’s wearing betrays his true intentions.
He pulls off after a final sloppy kiss to the tip, but before In-ho can protest, another mouth traces the same path across his cock from the opposite side. It isn’t as elaborate or languid, but the wet heat of his mouth is undeniable in its effectiveness. Even without the notable changes in his appearance, the sullen demeanor alone is almost enough to convince In-ho that it’s not a version of the same man, flanking his legs from the left.
Gi-hun’s eyebrows are knit together as always, the begrudging aura very tangible as he insistently keeps his eyes closed, preferring to ignore the man whose cock he’s tasting. In-ho strokes his gloved fingers down the thick leather of the collar, earning a hint of teeth grazing against his dick. If the Gihun from the past wears the collar like a clever dog presented with a challenge, this one is like a cunning cat plotting to take his revenge at the first opportune moment.
When he reaches the tip, Gi-hun skips the teasing and tries to pull back the same as his counterpart, but In-ho pushes down on his neck, keeping him in place. His mouth forms a tight line, but the hesitance doesn’t last long as he returns to his earlier spot, separating his lips, tongue out to meet the heated flesh. Even Gihun seems amused by the display of stubborn defiance, and when he leans closer to join in, it’s too much for In-ho’s brain.
His thoughts twist into a knot as he tries to simultaneously process the sight and sensations, a shuddering moan exposing how weak he has been rendered by the two of them. The same mouth twice over licking and nibbling, the identical lips only separated by the girth of his cock. In-ho is almost grateful for Gihun’s fingers tightening around the base; he desperately needs all the help he can get not to ruin this prematurely.
He's completely entranced, the stimulation almost secondary to the impact of what he’s witnessing. It’s Gihun, from the first time In-ho recognized him as a potential threat to his sanity, and the present, when he haunts every waking second of his life, never giving him the freedom to be alone with his thoughts. Both now solely focused on worshipping his cock, his pleasure only heightened by the unadulterated enjoyment of one, and the nonchalant submission of the other.
In-ho’s rushed breathing could only be described as panting, but it halts suddenly when both players move inadvertently in-sync, their lips brushing together over the tip of his cock. Predictably, Gi-hun draws back, eyes wary, but he’s quickly pulled into an eager kiss with a hand on his cheek.
It’s not a shy peck or a little tease targeted at all three, but vigorous and earnest - In-ho can even catch glimpses of tongue between the smacks of lips. The bolder Gihun glances at In-ho, gauging his reaction, smug about whatever unguarded and dumbfounded expression he finds on his face.
As intoxicating as the strangely narcissistic sight is, there’s an unpleasant tug in In-ho’s chest. It's not just the feeling of being reduced to the audience and losing the intense attention, there's also a flare of anger - his possessions are forgetting their place and his claim on them. All that pleasure, all the sensations and expressions associated with it belong to him and are rightfully his to command.
In-ho curls his fingers into the ring of Gihun's collar, pulling on it until he is forced to let go of his victim and face his master. There are peals of laughter, Gihun so convinced that whatever game they’re playing, he’s on the winning streak. In-ho moves his hand from the collar to his lips, thumbing them open. Gihun raises his eyebrows as In-ho feeds him two of his leather-covered fingers, and he easily accepts, eyes never leaving his.
The moment Gihun starts sucking on his fingers, he feels his cock being enveloped by searing heat - an eerie reminder that he's not dealing with similar people, but two versions of the same man. Whatever point he was hoping to make gets crushed instantaneously as In-ho is again distracted by the pleasure wracking every nerve ending, his body tensing up, a groan pulled out of his chest. It’s almost humiliating, being witnessed so openly by one of them.
In-ho struggles to maintain his composure as the warmth of his cock changes to tight sucking, tongue cushioned against the underside. He only means to glance at Gi-hun, but is unable to tear his eyes away, greedily taking in the details - the flushed cheeks hollowed in, the tension in his forehead gone due to the concentration on his task, the eyelashes fluttering in place.
He has a slow pace, devouring his cock only half-way before returning to the very tip. In-ho’s other hand finds the short strands of hair before he even realizes he’s doing so - he’s even more surprised when Gihun’s fingers brush against his.
In-ho’s heart threatens to shoot out of his chest when Gihun pushes hard on his counterpart’s head, forcing more of the cock down his throat until his lips touch the very root of it. Taken by surprise, Gi-hun gags, but his attempts to pull off are prevented - but not by In-ho.
As In-ho tries to recover from the sensation of Gi-hun swallowing around his cock, Gihun looks sheepish, a little too pleased with himself. In-ho shoves his fingers deeper into his mouth, but it’s not enough to disrupt the very knowing twinkle in his eyes - like both his twin and In-ho are open books to him. To rub it in, Gihun playfully bites the fingers, the gesture poorly hiding his smile.
In-ho’s hips buck in response to it, ripping a tortured moan out of him as Gi-hun wetly gags again, drool soaking the fabric of his trousers, his hand wrapped tight around In-ho’s thigh. Finally, Gihun eases his punishing hold, allowing Gi-hun to pull back, coughing. His furious eyes snap first to In-ho, then himself. He would be almost intimidating if it weren’t for the spit-slicked and swollen lips and the dark reddish hue spread across his cheeks.
Gihun pushes his future self back towards the straining erection, earning a heated glare and an annoyed huff for it. Despite the reluctance, Gi-hun rolls his tongue around the head until In-ho shudders, then welcomes more into his mouth, letting it bulge the soft wall of his cheek instead of taking it down his throat.
In-ho's fingers slip out of Gihun’s mouth, and the man immediately leans closer to his counterpart, obscenely licking the bulge of his cock through the flushed cheek. In-ho’s vision whites out briefly and he makes a shocked, incomprehensible noise.
Even with the filthy display, it's still a hellish tease after having been stimulated so thoroughly. He runs his hand through the short-cropped hair, and Gi-hun lets the cock slip from his mouth as he leans into the touch. It’s a strikingly beautiful sight, his eyes barely open in unfocused relaxation as he licks his lips. He wears submission so much better than the stubborn determination that has clung to his face for years.
His past self doesn’t hesitate to take over, nuzzling his face against the hardness, tongue lazily lolling along it. In-ho is constantly being touched, yet it feels elusive, the satisfaction always getting interrupted just as it begins to build up deliciously. It’s frustrating, finally breaking him out of his trance.
“Enough.”
To his credit, Gihun doesn’t argue back. Instead he moves, spreading In-ho’s thighs further apart and shuffling on his knees to settle between his legs. With a final brash glance at In-ho, he parts his lips and swallows all of him with very little effort. There are no signs of choking, no discomfort, just a smooth slide down his throat, not even his face twitching to reveal the slightest resistance. It’s a little too easy.
Unnervingly so.
In-ho rocks his hips, deciding that there’s no need for delicateness or politeness. He sets the pace and depth, but Gihun takes it, outrageous enough to moan around the intrusion down his throat, the vibrations of it echoing throughout In-ho’s body. It feeds all the unwanted thoughts in his head, about how Gihun has become so comfortable with the degrading act and why his future self seems to lack the polished skill. All the things he has done to entertain himself without a care in the world, even with the inevitable doom in his future.
In-ho had thought the collars to be a temporary experiment, but that would be wasted on Gihun. In-ho needs to find a chain, one with as few links as he can procure, and use it to connect the collar to the buckle of his belt - an unconventional prison that would leave Gihun no other choice but to keep his throat stuffed, reduced to a helpless cock warmer. The thought sinks deep, and he groans as he sharply thrusts into the wet heat, finally earning a frown and choked sound.
It feels like a victory, filling In-ho’s head with intoxicating triumph. He grabs onto the back of Gihun’s collar, using it to roughly guide him, occasionally stopping with his nose pressed to his pelvis and waiting until he starts squirming. If he’s so eager to whore himself, In-ho won’t hesitate to give him what he so desperately craves.
His future counterpart, on the other hand, watches the display with an almost nonchalant air. Uncaring about the rough treatment, he prefers to lean into In-ho’s fingers still massaging his scalp, lost in thoughts he has no hope of deciphering. In-ho has never been more tempted to kiss him, to coax him into unraveling his mind for him.
All of it finally begins to overwhelm him, his endurance pushed to the limits. He can’t stop the gasps and moans spilling from his lips, his body greedily trying to pull him over the brink, hips rocking indiscriminately into the searing hot tightness around his heavy cock. He desperately tries to fight it, wanting it to last, but the pleasure has taken over, all his senses rebelling against his will. He’s trembling, the electrifying stimulation wrecking him layer by layer, until all he can focus on is the intoxicating thrum of pleasure looping endlessly throughout his body.
He watches the repetitive slide of his cock into the willing mouth, before making the mistake of glancing at Gi-hun - whose eyes are now focused on In-ho’s face, eagerly tracking the process of him becoming undone. It’s the final push, and In-ho struggles to contain himself as his ecstasy peaks.
It takes what feels like a small forever for In-ho to remember his surroundings. His mind threatens to instantly abandon him again when he opens his eyes only to see Gihun pulling back, tongue out, showing off the remains of his release spread on it. As if that wasn’t enough, he pulls his future self into a kiss, sloppily and enthusiastically sharing the reward of his work.
As much as In-ho enjoys the depravity, the scene needs to be stopped - and the behavior corrected later. Gi-hun isn’t surprised when In-ho grabs him by the arm and pulls him forward, leaving him awkwardly balancing over his thigh and the armrest. He moans when In-ho sucks on the swollen lips before invading his mouth, eager to entwine their tongues, even with the obscene taste of himself spreading onto his.
The kiss falls apart when he feels a wet slide on his softening cock.
Shockingly, it’s Gi-hun who presses a hand to his chest and reunites their mouths, failing to conceal what the distraction is about. When the sensation returns and In-ho’s body instinctively tries to escape it, Gi-hun shifts, trapping him underneath his weight. The menace between his legs secures In-ho’s other leg by wrapping his arm around the thigh.
“We’re not done yet,” Gi-hun whispers against his lips. Whatever In-ho tries to say in protest is lost when Gi-hun cradles his head and slips his tongue inside his mouth to meet his.
The kiss is almost identical to the treatment his cock is receiving, lips caressing and nibbling, slick tongue exploring and tasting. His cock is trying valiantly to harden, but unable to comply so soon. It's a bizarre sensation, too much and too little at the same time, his body confused on whether to welcome or fight it.
Despite the conflict, it’s terribly easy to get lost in it, especially when he feels the hardness in Gi-hun’s own pants bump into him as he relaxes into the never-ending kiss. There's a rush of ideas and visuals in his head of all the things he wants to do to him.
In-ho sneaks a hand under the player shirt, moaning at the thrill of touching bare skin, reminding him of his plans to explore every single part of Gi-hun with his hands and mouth, finding and cataloging every hint of weakness and sensitive spot. He wants to memorize him wholly until he can recognize him regardless of sense, whether it’s the softness of his skin, the most silent gasp, or the taste of his sweat.
The mouth on his cock is teasing at best, but it still easily crosses to the wrong side of sensitivity. Suddenly, the agonizing overload is back, his body struggling to tell pain and pleasure apart. It doesn’t go unnoticed by his tormentors
“Say please,” Gi-hun urges, carding his fingers into In-ho’s hair. He responds by moving his own hand to the collar, tugging on it, but it only serves to amuse his pet. “We’re not in a hurry, this could take hours.”
It’s followed by a particularly torturous drag of tongue across his overly sensitive skin, the warmth of it searing in intensity. Just as In-ho adjusts to it with a shaky gasp, he feels heat return, enveloping his cock once more, and his entire body jolts despite the weight on him. Then it only escalates when Gihun hums, the vibrations travelling down his cock and spreading like a chill all over his body, from skin, to tissue, to deeper into the muscles and bones.
Coherence is becoming taxing, nearly impossible, his thoughts reduced to an increasingly desperate chant of ‘Gihun, Gi-hun, Gihun’. He can only pray that he’s not mumbling it all aloud. His eyes have slipped shut, his mind unable to handle any more stimuli than can be helped. When he feels merciless suction on his cock, he barely succeeds in stifling a scream, his hand finding the curly hair again, tugging harshly on it, only for the warning to go unheeded.
“Say it,” Gi-hun coaxes him gently, kissing his cheek. In-ho won’t obey, he still has his pride - or at least the shreds of it. “Stop.”
In-ho's momentarily confused by the command, until the heat on his cock withdraws and he moans in relief. But the lingering effects of arousal are quick to settle in, and it’s not the satisfying reprieve he had hoped for. It’s bittersweet, and he still can’t think. His soft cock rests against his thigh, twitching hopefully, as the cool air of the room prickles the bare skin.
He dares to open his eyes, immediately focusing on the unfaltering determination on Gi-hun’s face. The man kisses the side of his mouth as he patiently waits, offering him very little sympathy for his dilemma. In-ho feels the other’s mouth hover over his cock, breath tingling the sensitive, spit-covered flesh. The anticipation is killing him, but when he stares at Gi-hun, his expression is sternly unforgiving. If he's looking for mercy, he won't find it here.
“Please,” In-ho breathes out.
Gi-hun considers him for a moment, squinting at him, and just as In-ho is about to burst into more reckless pleading, he leans closer, tracing his upper lip with his tongue. Then Gihun’s mouth returns to his cock, hungrily consuming him, and In-ho’s sob drowns in the deepening kiss.
It feels like there’s fire simmering right under his skin, flames of it flicking deeper in such a way that In-ho can’t tell if he’s warm or freezing. His senses are drunk, the swarm of conflicting information confusing them, his mind obsessively taking in details and trying to find a way to hold onto them for good.
“In-ho,” Gi-hun whispers almost reverently against his mouth, brushing their lips together in the softest caress.
It’s only afterwards that he’s capable of comprehending what happened, his body forced into another devastating orgasm. There’s wetness blurring his vision as he tries to make sense of the world. His lungs are struggling, his body shuddering in a way that makes him feel partially disoriented, like both his body and mind are trying to split in half. His head is filled with fluff, thoughts sticky and nonsensical. He vaguely wonders if it’s the closest thing to death he can experience.
“Five.”
His sluggish attention turns to the blurry figure resting on his thigh. Both Gihuns are looking at each other, appraising and calculating.
“That's pushing it,” Gi-hun declares. “Three, four at most.”
The realization is ruthless when it hits In-ho. It’s not over yet, this may be the longest break he will be granted for quite some time.
“But after that,” Gihun grins and kisses Inho's thigh through the trousers, mirth glittering in his eyes as he looks up at him. “It will be our turn.”
In-ho isn’t entirely sure if he will survive it. He looks at Gi-hun, who meets his gaze with a challenging, skeptical look.
With a grunt of assent that's more like a whimper, he can only pull Gi-hun back in for a kiss, and try to prepare himself for the rest.