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It’s strange to see the shop after-hours, lights dim and the neon sign in the window devoid of color. Dongju pushes through the front door, feeling a little bit like he’s committing a crime, locking it behind him.
“Hey,” he calls out, past the front desk and into the warren of back rooms. His fingertips tingle with anticipation as Hwanwoong answers from one of the rooms, light spilling out from the door left half-ajar.
“Hi, baby,” Hwanwoong greets him, taking him by the hand to hop up sideways on the padded leather chair at the center of the little room. “Excited?”
“I think so,” Dongju answers, wiggling a little in his seat, picking at his nails. Hwanwoong gives him a reassuring little smile, leaning up to draw Dongju into a slow, sensual kiss.
“I won’t get to do this,” he says between presses of their lips, “for a little while,” and he draws Dongju’s bottom lip between his teeth, “so I have to enjoy it —” there’s a touch of tongue along his Cupid’s bow that makes Dongju shiver, “— while I can.”
Dongju’s left breathless and half-tempted to throw their plans out the window and just let Hwanwoong fuck him over the tattooing chair, but he pushes Hwanwoong away with great effort.
“C’mon,” he breathes, “get on with it.”
Hwanwoong nods and licks his own lips — Dongju catches a flash of silver where his tongue pokes out, knows intimately how that feels on every part of his body. Wants it for himself.
As soon as he turns away, Hwanwoong is in full professional mode. His supplies are already set out, so it doesn’t take long to finish prepping. He drags the rolling cart close to the chair so it’s easily within reach and snaps sterile gloves onto his small, elegant fingers.
The air is heavy between them as Hwanwoong takes Dongju’s lower lip between his finger and thumb, drawing it out so the inside is exposed to the cool air. He applies a disinfectant, then draws with a marker on the skin.
It’s only when Hwanwoong unwraps the needle from its sterile packaging that Dongju’s gut twists in fear and anticipation. He’s had his ears pierced but nothing more, and it excites him as much as it frightens him.
“Ready, baby?” Hwanwoong looks like he wants to kiss Dongju badly, but that’s obviously off the table, so he settles for a reassuring smile. Dongju nods.
Hwanwoong pinches his lower lip again, drawing it forward.
“Breathe for me,” he coaxes, “and one more. And —”
And then the needle breaches his skin, the pain both worse and less intense than he’d feared. Dongju’s eyes flutter shut, breath stuttering in his chest. The pain turns from something sharp to something throbbing, radiating from his lip down his throat into his stomach. His hands clench and unclench on the leather of the chair.
“You’re done, baby,” Hwanwoong murmurs. “Open your eyes for me?”
Dongju’s strangely hazy, lashes clumping together with unshed tears as he blinks his eyes open. He catches sight of himself in the mirror and gasps slightly — the silver ring bisects his lower lip perfectly, the tiny bead resting just at the divot. He’s captivating, he thinks, and unconsciously reaches up to touch.
“Nuh-uh,” Hwanwoong chides, catching his wrist with one gloved hand. “Can’t touch that for at least a week.”
Dongju can’t stop staring at himself, tilting his head this way and that to get a better angle. Hwanwoong hums, peeling off the gloves and throwing them in the trash.
“You look beautiful,” he says, stepping into Dongju’s space and nuzzling into his neck. “I knew you would.”
Dongju realizes all at once that he’s hard, the pain trickling through his body feeding into his arousal, warm and simmering in the pit of his stomach. He grabs onto Hwanwoong’s shoulder, fingers clenching in the fabric of his t-shirt.
“I… I didn’t know…”
Hwanwoong pulls back far enough to see the flush on Dongju’s cheeks, the way he’s shifting on the chair. He smiles, at first kind and then quickly turning wicked.
“It happens all the time,” he reassures, and then puts his hand on Dongju’s thigh, thumb stroking up the inseam of his jeans. “But since the shop is closed…”
Normally at this point, Dongju would drag him into a furious kiss, answering with action rather than words. But he can’t, can’t even bite his lip. He’s forced to look Hwanwoong in the eye and nod, to say, yes, I want it.
Hwanwoong pushes him back to sit on the chair properly, using the hydraulic lever to bring it down a bit closer to the floor. It’s a testament to Dongju’s state of mind that he doesn’t make a joke about it.
He just groans instead as Hwanwoong leans back in and bites at his neck, adding fresh pain to the old. He threads fingers through Hwanwoong’s hair, multicolored strands soft against his palm, pushing him down impatiently. Hwanwoong laughs, resisting the implicit demand and instead rucking up Dongju’s shirt to expose his chest.
“Should we do these next?” he muses, flicking one nipple before taking it into his mouth. His tongue piercing catches on it for just a moment before it’s purely suction and heat. Dongju throws his head back and whines, unable to contain himself. The thought is overwhelming. He’s sensitive now, he can’t imagine what it would feel like for Hwanwoong to put a needle through that skin — the excruciating pain in the moment, how it would feel to touch them while they were still healing. How it might feel for Hwanwoong to tug them between his teeth with a pretty silver ring threaded through, so sensitive he might burst.
The way he’s pulling at Hwanwoong’s hair must be answer enough, because Hwanwoong just laughs, looking up at him with eyes full of promise.
“Someday,” he breathes, clearly affected by the idea, “I’ll put pretty jewels all over you. I promise.”
Dongju just nods, not trusting his own voice, pushing on Hwanwoong’s head to coax him downward. His lip throbs deliciously, every inhale bringing too-cold air against the open wound, every exhale too-hot.
He suddenly understands why Hwanwoong lowered the chair so much when Hwanwoong drops to his knees on the ground between his spread thighs, urging Dongju to lift his hips so he can get his jeans and underwear off.
The first touch of Hwanwoong’s mouth on his dick is almost too-much, so hot Dongju thinks he’s going to explode but still he wants more, he wants everything. He threads both hands into Hwanwoong’s hair, holding tight as Hwanwoong takes more of him, inch by inch until he’s bumping the back of his throat.
The whole way down, Dongju can feel the tease of his tongue-stud along the bottom of his dick. It drags every time Hwanwoong bobs up and back down.
“Woong, please,” he gasps, not sure what he’s asking for but sure that he needs more. Hwanwoong hums around him, pulling off and wrapping his small hand around the slick lower half of his dick, focusing on flicking his tongue around the head. His piercing catches just under the tip and it makes Dongju curl into himself and sob, hands gripping tight in Hwanwoong’s hair.
“M’close,” he manages, “please, I want— your face, can I—”
“Of course, baby.” Hwanwoong grabs Dongju’s hand, licking across the palm before guiding it to his dick. He looks beatific, kneeling there with his eyes closed, mouth slightly open. Dongju can see him palming himself through his jeans. The proof that this is turning Hwanwoong on as much as it is Dongju is what sends him over the edge, spilling all over Hwanwoong’s face, into his pretty, open mouth.
Hwanwoong finishes shortly after, whining as he shudders and presses his face into Dongju’s bare thigh. Soon, the motion of his hand ceases. They both remain panting for a long moment, reveling in the aftershocks of what they’ve done — until Hwanwoong starts laughing.
“I’m so glad I told you to come in after hours,” he says, standing slowly on shaky legs. Dongju snorts, about to run his hand through his hair before he remembers it has cum on it and thinking twice.
“Yeah... yikes,” he agrees, hopping off of the chair.
“Luckily, we have a lot of wipes around here.” Hwanwoong pulls open a drawer, tossing Dongju a damp wipe and cleaning himself up so they can both drive home with minimal stickiness.
When they’re both presentable, Hwanwoong almost goes in for a kiss before sighing and pressing his lips to Dongju’s cheek instead.
“It is going to be so hard not to do that,” he huffs. Dongju laughs, feeling a twinge as his lips stretch in a grin.
“Yeah, but it’ll be even more fun when we finally can again,” he teases, poking Hwanwoong’s cheek. Hwanwoong’s eyes go a little distant, likely imagining something obscene.
Dongju shivers with excitement, wondering absently how long is respectable to wait between new piercings.