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“Wooyoung, calm down.” Seonghwa gently reprimands, placing his palm over the younger boy's own quivering hand wrapped loosely around a foggy glass in order to stabilise his nerves.
Wooyoung sucks in a breath, brows furrowing as his glossy eyes dart over to Seonghwa’s relaxed form. “Dude, I can’t. You didn’t tell me he was coming.” Wooyoung gestures to the man in the crowd who seems to have some sort of angelical glow emanating from him…though that may just be copious amounts of body glitter. Semantics.
Seonghwa rolls his eyes slightly, turning his body to face Wooyoung completely, leaning his hip against the counter of the bar.
“You could just, I don’t know, talk to him. He’s just a guy, Wooyoung.”
Wooyoung balks. “Kim Hongjoong is not just a guy, Hwa. He’s the guy I’ve been trying to bone for, like, the better half of our college career. He’s like this fuckin’ untouchable deity and my dick totally freaks out if i’m even,” he waves his hands in the air to show his desperation.
“Five feet within the guy. It’s ridiculous, I’ve never wanted to suck a dick so badly in my life, man.”
Yunho, who is standing idly to the side of the duo, eyeing a particular body on the dance floor, lets out a breathy chuckle. “Exactly. Which is why it’s time for you to either make your move or get over it. Do you know how sad my dick is to hear you pine over some twink? ‘Oh look at Hongjoong’s ass in those overpriced vintage Wet Seal jeans, is that a bedazzled ass pocke-”
Yunho’s mocking is cut off by Wooyoung throwing the lime slice of his margarita at his cheek with a wet slap, the former giggling and shoving the younger boy with his shoulder, Wooyoung blows him a raspberry.
Wooyoung scoffs. “I do not sound like that.” Seonghwa and Yunho share a look over Wooyoung’s shoulder, before Yunho claps his hands together and rubs his palms against one another, eerily mimicking an evil fly, Wooyoung thinks.
“Sure, babe. Well, I’m gonna go find that one cutie he’s friends with, one of us should be getting laid tonight.” Yunho wastes no time throwing back a shot and sauntering his way to the gaggle of sweaty bodies littering the dance floor of the club, effectively leaving Wooyoung to stew in his many unspoken rebuttals. Traitor.
“He’s right, babe. You totally need to get over this dry spell, maybe try to sleep with someone else? You look too hot for it to go to waste.” Seonghwa gestures to the strappy black bodysuit tucked securely into a pair of light wash low waisted baggy jeans that Wooyoung is currently wearing.
Wooyoung blows out air, “I’ve tried, I literally compare every dude to him. Did you know I accidentally called Yeonjun ‘Hongjoong’ when he ate me out last semester? He still hasn’t responded to my apology texts…”
Seonghwa hums in pity, Wooyoung briefly wants to die.
“Oh, honey…”
Wooyoung’s reply is cut off by a voice yelling over the sound of the bass, a very drunk Mingi squawking for the two to join him and the rest of the group on the dance floor. Mingi is standing just a few feet from the object of Wooyoung’s lust- who is sensually grinding against a mysterious face- and Wooyoung’s stomach swirls with butterflies at the prospect of being that near him. He eyes Hongjoong for a moment, watching the way his hips roll against the man he’s dancing with. He hears a ringing in his ears.
“Uh, you go ahead. I’ll just hit the bathroom real quick.” Wooyoung mutters to Seonghwa.
“You sure?”
Wooyoung nods with a clipped yep!, and Seonghwa shrugs, turning to disappear into the crowd with the rest of their friends. A sigh leaves Wooyoung, and he fists a few crumpled up bills from his clutch to drop on the sticky bar, ignoring the irritated look the bartender sends his way at the damaged money. It’s quieter in the bathroom, muffled, and Wooyoung washes his hands quickly with the room temperature water in an attempt to chill the fuck out. He curses when he finds there are no paper towels, so he swipes his hands against the denim fabric covering his ass and chooses to waste his anxiety on picking apart his appearance in the mirrow before him.
As he’s touching up the smudged glitter underneath his eyelids, the door swings open roughly, making him jolt in his place. But whose face meets him in the mirror practically has him jumping out of his skin, because of course it would be him.
Hongjoong stops in his tracks when he sees someone standing at the sink within eyeline of the door, their eyes meeting in the reflection of the glass, and Wooyoung swears he sees his lips tugging slightly upon seeing that it’s him. Maybe that’s the tequila.
“Oh, hi.”
Hongjoong’s voice is sin, confident. Addictive. Wooyoung wants it moaning his name.
He shakes his head to dismiss the thoughts. Wooyoung swallows.
“Hey, uh. Come to use the bathroom?” Such a stupid question. Wooyoung mentally kicks himself.
Hongjoong walks forward to the sink just adjacent to Wooyoung. “Hm, no. Just wanted fresh air. You?”
Hongjoong seems amused. Wooyoung wants that mouth around his-
“Hah, same.”
It goes quiet, too quiet, and Wooyoung itches to say something to fill the silence, but he’s unsure he has anything of substance to say to the man other than how bad he yearns for him. Hongjoong flips the tap on and lathers his hands with soap, the slippery sounds make Wooyoung’s eyes twitch. Their eyes meet a few too many times in the mirror to pass as not insufferably awkward, and Wooyoung feels the embarrassment weighing his tummy down. He wishes he wasn’t so uncomfortable in the man's presence. It’s like his brain turns to horny, perverted mush and all his flirting skills fly right out the fucking window.
Wooyoung swipes his thumbs underneath his eye a bit too roughly in the midst of his internal dilemma, effectively smudging the black of his glittery eyeliner far worse than before, he curses underneath his breath and rapidly scrubs the pads of his fingers to try and diffuse the black ink before Hongjoong sees.
The water stops, and Wooyoung turns his head to find Hongjoong standing much closer than before, peering at the smeared makeup whilst swiping his wet hands on his own denim.
“Want me to help?” He leaves Wooyoung no time to answer before swiping his tongue across the tip of his thumb and wiping it a few times underneath Wooyoung’s eye, Wooyoung’s cheeks light with a rosy hue.
Typically, Wooyoung would be grossed out at the action of someone wiping their spit on his face but right now…right now he’s trying to fight the lump in his throat and the swelling of his traitorous dick in his jeans.
There are gems in the corners of Hongjoong’s eyes, his cheeks are free of blush leaving a chiseled effect and his lips are perfectly smooth, Wooyoung thinks he’s never seen someone so beautiful. There's not a damn flaw on the man’s skin, his pores are miniscule. God.
“There. All good.” Hongjoong’s siren eyes rise to meet Wooyoung’s glossy ones, the silence is palpable and amidst the bass reverberating some hyperpop song through the bathroom tiles, Wooyoung practically feels himself vibrating from something completely unrelated.
“Thanks.”
But Hongjoong doesn’t move from his place just inches from Wooyoung’s body, it all becomes too much. The heat, the heady smell of Hongjoong’s cologne. It’s a sickening amber scent, Wooyoung wants to bathe in it.
And then, as if his body is possessed, Wooyoung’s mouth is opening to spew five words that have him immediately wanting to lie on this cheap linoleum floor and beg the world to open up and swallow him whole. He’s never had a filter, but combined with the sheer lust coursing through his veins right now and the tequila singing his tongue with misplaced word vomit, he finds it's a feature he direly wishes he could change about himself.
“Can I suck your dick?”
Wooyoung pauses. What the fuck was in that margarita? he can’t believe he just propositioned his crush to club head.
He fully expects the man to scoff, to slap him and storm out of the club bathroom only to block his number and never speak to the friend group ever again. Wooyoung is momentarily mortified.
But he’s shocked to instead see Hongjoong’s lips quirk with his signature sinister smirk and duck his eyes to scan them up the expanse of Wooyoung’s body, and the latter suddenly seems much more exposed, despite being decently clothed.
“Excuse me?”
Wooyoung flounders, panicking.
“Well, you know, it’s just that you’re really hot and I’ve been infatuated by you for like, ever. And I’m really good at giving head so,”
Wooyoung wants to slap himself. But it’s far too late to back out now and Wooyoung isn’t a quitter.
It’s quiet, then.
“Okay.”
Oh. Oh. Okay.
Wooyoung has died, and gone to gay heaven, he must have. But, his mother taught him to never pass up opportunities so he wastes no time basking in the surrealism of the situation, instead wrapping his fingers around the slim wrist of his crush and pulling him hastily into the largest stall at the furthest corner from the door, all while trying to convince himself he was genuinely about to have his mouth wrapped around the only cock he’s ever wanted this badly.
After clicking the lock shut- with shaky fingers he might add- Wooyoung turns and his hands find their way around Hongjoong’s waist like they belonged there, and they may as well have with how perfectly they fit around the toned muscle. He rotates them so Hongjoong’s back is shoved to the stall door with a slight oof leaving his lips.
“Eager?” Hongjoong quips, Wooyoung hums in response, flitting his fingertips over the covered expanse of the other man’s stomach, marvelling at how firm he was for being so small.
“You have no idea.” Wooyoung then sinks to his knees and hurriedly begins undoing Hongjoong’s belt, studded with pink rhinestones, and he distantly thinks it’s an entirely unfitting shade for the man.
“Cute belt.”
Hongjoong’s hands join Wooyoung’s clumsy ones in undoing the belt, pulling the bedazzled leather free from their loops with a clanking metal sound that has Wooyoung buzzing with excitement.
Once the belt is undone, Wooyoung palms over the soft bulge in Hongjoong’s underwear.
“You do this for every man you have a little crush on?” Hongjoong breathes, voice strained at the contact of Wooyoung’s eager palm, wincing at a particular firm massage against his balls.
Wooyoung whines, darting forward to mouth the fabric covering the head of Hongjoong’s length, which is currently growing harder under Wooyoung’s ministrations.
“Jus’ you.” He mutters hotly against Hongjoong. His tongue darts out to soak the material with a few rapid kitten licks, Hongjoong white-knuckle grips the metal bar behind him at the sight of Wooyoung’s silky pink tongue so close to his crotch. He’d barely spoken twenty words to the man in their entire time knowing each other, yet Wooyoung was so desperate for him. It kind of sent him reeling, an uncharacteristic streak of possession taking hold of him.
“Take me out.”
Wooyoung shakily complies, threading his fingers beneath the waistband of Hongjoong’s jeans and yanking them to his knees. He does the same with the fabric of his boxers until the length is free for Wooyoung to marvel. He’s face level with Hongjoong’s cock and the first thing he notices is it’s pretty. It’s perfectly pink, and only half hard but it makes Wooyoung’s tongue tingle all the same. Wooyoung swallows his drool and shoots Hongjoong a heated look under hooded lashes.
“You like knowing you’re the only one I'm this horny for?”
Wooyoung teases to cover his nerves, wrapping his palm around the hardening length to massage it to full hardness. Hongjoong hisses at the touch, hisses around a smug laugh.
“How ‘bout you get your mouth around me and we’ll find out?”
Okay, so he’s a cocky little thing, Wooyoung thinks to himself. That’s fine, makes it more fun for Wooyoung to prove his worth.
Wooyoung removes his palm to spit on it, then wraps it around Hongjoong once more. The slick makes it much easier to work Hongjoong’s length until it’s throbbing and stiff, and it’s Wooyoung’s only hint that Hongjoong is actually affected aside from the occasional choppy breath. The man is very stoic, though Wooyoung knew that already. And Wooyoung was nothing if not eager to take the man apart.
It’s sudden that Wooyoung attaches his lips to the tip, mouthing at the pearly dew forming at the slit. Hongjoong jolts in surprise.
“Easy-” Wooyoung hums around a smile, forming his lips into a pucker and gently sucking at the flesh. Hongjoong’s grip tightens on the metal bar, squeaking under the pressure of his iron grip. He lets out a squeak, caught off guard when Wooyoung detaches his lips from the head to tongue his tightened balls.
“How long?”
He mutters into the quiet of the stall, eyebrows furrowing at the lewd sounds of Wooyoung's hot and bothered moans. Wooyoung’s eyes meet Hongjoongs, then he’s detaching with a sick pop. He knows what’s being asked of him, he doesn’t need clarification.
“Since orientation.” He flicks his wrist, thumb rolling against the tip. He’s fascinated by the silky feeling of the man’s skin, and the heady taste.
Hongjoong scoffs.
“Three years?” He means for it to sound condescending, but it’s difficult to pin a bite to his words with the way Wooyoung looks so endearing palming him. Wooyoung licks a bold stripe up the length of Hongjoong’s cock in lieu of an answer, then, he sinks forward until his nose is buried in the small patch of pubic hair above the base of Hongjoong’s shaft, his throat convulses around a gag in protest but he exhales through his nose and flicks his tongue against the veins in order to soothe his screaming esophagus.
“Fuck-”
When Hongjoong’s hips surge forward at the sudden heat, hitting his tip against Wooyoung’s uvula, Wooyoung shoves his hips back against the stall door, firmly pinning him against it, pinching his thigh in a warning. His mouth moves in tandem against Hongjoong, slobbering and sucking until his lips are swollen and glossy with Hongjoong’s precome. Hongjoong whines deep in his throat, Wooyoung thinks he sounds adorable and practically sings with the newfound accomplishment of making Hongjoong feel good.
Wooyoung once again takes Hongjoong down his throat, tears pricking at his eyes, but his throat is much more relaxed this time around, the intrusion welcome. He swallows.
“God your throat is insane.”
Hongjoong sighs, head thudding against the stall door when he throws it back in unadulterated pleasure. His hands find themselves threading through the oreo tresses of Wooyoung’s hair, and if it were anyone else, Wooyoung would be pissed at the prospect of his perfectly styled hair being ruined. But he doesn’t care in the slightest seeing that it’s Hongjoong.
A hot tear beads down his cheek, and Wooyoung briefly wants to laugh at the irony of Hongjoong fixing his smudged eyeliner just moments prior, only to fuck it up by choking Wooyoung on his dick.
Wooyoung bobs his head in a steady rhythm, palm flattening against his own growing bulge in his pants to stifle some of the agonizing pleasure. The hands in his hair tighten against his scalp, then, Hongjoong is using the anchorage to shallowly thrust his hips further into the cavern of Wooyoung’s mouth, past the ring of his throat, down the pipe of his esophagus. If Wooyoung were to move, he’d fully choke, so he does his best to stay perfectly still and allow Hongjoong to fuck his throat to his hearts content.
He lets out a deep groan, mouth opening into a perfect circle. Wooyoung looks up through his blurry tears to burn the sight into his memory.
“Fu-ck…”
Hongjoong gasps wetly, hips erratically chasing his high and Wooyoung slackens his jaw so wide it aches deep, but he simply goes limp against Hongjoong’s grip in his hair, arms slumping into his lap. He probably looks like a cheap whore, glitter eyeshadow and eyeliner streaking his cheeks and plump pink lips stretched around a thick cock, but this is where he belongs, he knows he looks good.
Hongjoong’s hips stutter, and Wooyoung knows he must be close, so he bats Hongjoong’s hands away hurriedly and flattens his palms against his asscheeks, gripping the generous flesh and he uses the grip to surge forward. He stills against Hongjoong’s pubic bone and swallows repeatedly around the length, massaging Hongjoong with the warm walls of his pharynx. He goes cross eyed at the lack of oxygen, but by some miracle he stays conscious enough to hear the gargled way Hongjoong falls apart.
“Cu-mming-”
Is Wooyoung’s only warning before he feels the flooding heat of Hongjoong’s seed spilling down his throat. He lazily rolls Hongjoong’s balls in his palm to egg on the climax. There’s so much and Wooyoung does his best to swallow every last drop, milking Hongjoong’s balls dry until the violent throbs gradually slow and Hongjoong sags against the door.
“Holy fuck.”
Wooyoung pulls back with a pop, gasping in a generous breath and wiping the corner of his puffy lip where drool has pooled. Hongjoong’s chest is heaving, Wooyoung is flattered.
“Good?” His voice cracks. Hongjoong can only nod dumbly in response.
“You’re so hot.”
Wooyoung whines, rising to his feet slowly, swaying slightly after sitting on them for so long. He helps pull the denim of Hongjoong’s jeans up the length of his legs, and stuffs his now softening cock into the fabric of his boxers. He leaves the belt undone, leaving his mark, so to speak. Hongjoong watches him with sated, hooded eyes, then, he connects their lips in a clashing kiss once Wooyoung is done.
A moan leaves Wooyoung at the sudden contact, and Hongjoong wastes no time licking behind his teeth to taste himself. The smacks reverberate through the bathroom as Hongjoong sucks Wooyoung’s tongue clean of every residual drop of release, Wooyoung thinks it’s gross but then again he’s never been harder so what does that say about him?
The two jolt apart in surprise when the bathroom door swings open and thuds against the wall, an impatient voice filling the otherwise empty bathroom.
“Jung Wooyoung, are you in here? Did you die taking a shit or something? What is taking you so lon-” Seonghwa yells, concerned.
Hongjoong unlocks the stall door to peek his head out sheepishly in order to peer at the older man, who immediately cuts himself off upon seeing a man that is very much not Wooyoung. His eyes fall beneath the stall in which he finds not one pair of feet…but two. His eyes widen in realisation, his cheeks redden.
“Oh…um.”
Wooyoung tucks his lips between his teeth to hide his smile at Seonghwa’s embarrassed tone. Serves him right for interrupting.
“Well then! Congrats Wooyoung for finally…uh, you know. Hurry up and finish…whatever it is you’re doing, Mingi is trying to suck Yunho’s face off to some Pitbull song.”
He rushes out. As he turns to walk out the door, he throws over his shoulder, a quick jab at Wooyoung and his previous perverted deeds just for good measure,
“And wash your hands!”