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Intak is straight.
He’s never once questioned his sexuality. He likes women. Boobs. Pussies. Soft hands and wide hips and thick thighs. Intak has always liked girls.
So why is he currently at some grimy frat house party with a pretty boy pushed against his chest, grinding hard against his cock that’s already starting to fill out in his pants? The guy’s arms are around Intak’s neck, head thrown back against his shoulder exposing the long column of his throat. Intak’s thinking about biting it. He’s thinking about how the soft stubble he can already see filling out on his chin might feel against his tongue. He’s watching rather intensely, tracing the beads of his sweat as they roll in a line down his neck, over the curve of his adam’s apple and pooling in the divots of his collarbones. He’s shiny with it. He smells like beer and vaguely of some woody cologne. Intak is barely tipsy, but the feeling of this guy’s hands in his hair as he sways his hips and rocks back against Intak is making him feel dizzy, light-headed, like he’s almost drunk with it.
Intak is straight. He knows this. It’s a fact as sure as gravity, as the sun rising in the east. He’s never doubted it, not even for a second. But right now, all those certainties feel like they’re slipping through his fingers like the sweat dampening his palms.
Why does Intak want to fuck this guy, if he’s supposed to be straight?
The guy in front of him—no, on him—was not the type of person Intak would usually find himself thinking about. But here he was, completely pinned to this gorgeous stranger, every nerve in his body tingling like it had been jolted awake. The room's heat felt suffocating, or maybe it was just the heat radiating off this guy—this pretty guy—with his body flush against Intak’s, swaying to the bass-heavy music thundering through the house.
Intak’s mind raced, trying to untangle the series of events that had brought him here. Earlier tonight, he’d shown up to this party expecting to meet up with Yeji. She’d been flirting with him in class all week, her texts full of winking emojis and half-suggestive compliments. She’d told him to come to this party, promising a fun time. But Yeji had bailed—some lame excuse about not feeling up to it. Intak had shrugged it off. Sure, he was disappointed, but it wasn’t a big deal. He liked Yeji, but he wasn’t heartbroken or anything.
“Whatever,” he’d told Jiung, who had immediately dragged him into the kitchen for a couple of shots to soften the blow. Jiung didn’t love parties like this; too many people, too loud, too chaotic. But he’d stuck around for Intak’s sake.
After downing two shots of cheap, throat-burning tequila, Intak had decided to make the most of the night anyway. He loved dancing—getting lost in the music, moving without thinking, feeling the rhythm. So he’d hit the makeshift dance floor, a stained fabric couch and a table that was currently hosting a riveting beer pong game pushed to the side to make space in the middle of the living room. He only felt a little bad leaving Jiung to the company of scattered bottles of various liquors on the kitchen countertops. It was whatever. Jiung could entertain himself.
That’s when he’d seen him.
The guy. He was hard to miss, standing out in the crowd like a spark in the dark. His tight, low-rise leather pants clung to the muscles of his thighs, and the black fishnet crop top he wore did little to hide the lean muscle underneath. He moved with a kind of confidence that made people stop and stare, and his eyes had locked onto Intak’s like he’d found his next mark. Intak had blinked, unsure if he was reading the situation right, but then the guy smirked, curling his fingers in a “come here” motion, and Intak had stepped forward before he even realized what he was doing. He’d danced with guys before. It was no big deal. Really.
Now, here they were.
The music shifted, some sultry pop beat that made the crowd grind together like they were auditioning for a raunchy music video. Intak wasn’t sure when the distance between them disappeared, but the guy was pressed so close now that Intak could feel every movement, every roll of his hips. He didn’t even know this guy’s name, but his body seemed to know exactly how to move to get under Intak’s skin.
The guy leaned his head back, his grin sharp and teasing, and Intak groaned softly at the feel of him pressing harder against his straining jeans.
“You’re such a big boy,” the guy murmured, his lips ghosting over the shell of Intak’s ear, his voice slick with amusement. “Already so worked up… you must be excited. Do you even know what to do with all that?”
Intak swallowed hard, stuttering out, “I—I mean, I know, uh, I just—” He trailed off, his head spun, which only made the guy laugh—a light, high-pitched sound that shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was. His breath was hot against Intak’s neck, and Intak had to bite back a sound that would have been embarrassingly needy.
“You’re adorable,” the guy said, and Intak wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or insulted. But then the guy reached down, taking one of Intak’s hands from his waist and guiding it lower—down over the impossibly tight pants he wore, pressing Intak’s palm firmly against him.
Intak’s breath hitched as he felt how hard he was, his fingers twitching instinctively before he caught himself. The guy leaned up again, his lips brushing against the skin below Intak’s ear as he whispered, “We could go somewhere else. Take care of each other.”
Intak’s brain felt foggy, clouded by the heat of the moment and the intoxicating way this guy was touching him. He couldn’t think, couldn’t form a coherent response. All he knew was that he wanted— wanted —and the way this guy was looking at him made it feel like wanting was okay. Like it didn’t matter if this was new or strange or unexpected.
“Yeah,” he said, the word tumbling out of his mouth before he could overthink it. His voice was breathy, a little shaky, but sure. “Let’s go.”
The guy’s grin widened, wicked and wily, and he took Intak’s hand, leading him away from the crowded dance floor. Intak followed without hesitation, his heart pounding in his chest as he wondered what the hell he’d just gotten himself into.
The guy moved like he owned the place, navigating the chaos of the party with ease. His hand in Intak’s was warm, firm, the pads of his fingers were slightly calloused, distinctly masculine in a way that Intak didn’t know he could find attractive. They weaved through the crowd, past some tabletop game that had devolved into drunken shouting, stepping over a forgotten slice of pizza lying in the middle of the hallway. Intak barely noticed; his focus was entirely on the guy in front of him—the way his crop top rode up as he moved, the pale skin of his thin waist shiny with sweat, the teasing glimpse of his taut lower back just above the waistband of those tight leather pants.
They reached the staircase, the wood creaking beneath their feet as the guy led him up two at a time. He kicked a beer can out of his way, ignoring the couple making out against the banister. Intak hesitated for half a second, but the guy tugged him along without a word. At the top of the stairs, the hallway was just as chaotic—loud voices, muffled music from behind closed doors, and some girl moaning loud enough the whole party could probably hear her.
The guy didn’t falter. He marched straight to one of the doors, banged on it with the side of his fist, and shouted, “Anyone in here?”
No answer. He turned the knob and shoved the door open, peering inside. “Perfect,” he muttered, pulling Intak in after him.
It was a bathroom—small, cramped, and just as grimey as the rest of the house. The sink was cluttered with half-used toothpaste tubes, random gels, and a toothbrush lying at an angle on the yellow stained marble that made Intak cringe. Towels were strewn across the floor in damp, wrinkled piles, and the shower curtain hanging over the tub was a sickly yellow, curling at the edges. The faint scent of mildew lingered in the air, but Intak barely had a second to process it before the door slammed shut behind them.
The guy was on him immediately.
Intak gasped as his back hit the door, the guy’s body pressing flush against his. The heat between them was immediate and overwhelming, the friction sending a jolt of electricity through Intak as the guy ground their hips together. His hands were everywhere—gripping Intak’s shoulders, sliding up into his hair, tugging just hard enough to make Intak groan. His lips found the skin of Intak’s neck, mouthing and sucking in a way that made Intak’s knees feel dangerously weak.
“Fuck,” Intak breathed, his hands hovering awkwardly at his sides, unsure where to go, what to do. His head was spinning, his body reacting instinctively even as his brain scrambled to catch up.
The guy sighed against his neck, the sound vibrating through Intak’s skin. His hands slid down, fingers deftly working at the fly of Intak’s jeans. “You’re killing me here,” he muttered.
Intak’s heart was thundering in his chest. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, too stunned by the intensity of it all—the heat, the closeness, the sheer want radiating off this guy. Finally, his hands moved on their own, threading into the guy’s hair. It was soft beneath his fingers, and he tugged gently, enough to make the guy lift his head.
Intak needed to see him. In the warm, dim light of the bathroom, he took in every detail—the strong nose, the sharp eyes, the defined jawline, the lips that were glossy and slightly parted. Is he wearing lip gloss? He wanted to taste it. He wanted to taste him.
The guy smirked, his expression sharp and full of mischief. “Like what you see?” he asked, hands still resting at the hem of Intak’s jeans.
Intak swallowed hard. He managed a choked, “Yeah–yeah, I do. Wait, though.”
The guy stilled, tilting his head, his hands pausing. “What’s wrong, big boy?” he asked, his tone playful but not unkind.
“I—” Intak stammered, his mouth dry. “I just—what’s your name?”
The guy’s grin widened, slow and vexing. He leaned in close, lips brushing against Intak’s ear as he purred, “Why? You need something to moan while I’m sucking your cock?”
Intak froze. He knew, logically, that this was where they were heading—that was the whole reason he’d let himself be dragged up here—but hearing it said out loud like that made his whole body light up with heat. His face burned as he struggled to find words.
“I—I mean, you don’t have to tell me—if you don’t want to—” Intak stammered, the words tumbling out awkwardly.
The guy laughed, pulling back just enough to look at Intak with a crooked grin. “Keeho,” he said simply, his lips a hair’s breadth from Intak’s. “And you, big boy? What’s yours?”
Intak’s chest tightened, his breath coming in shallow bursts as he replayed the name in his head— Keeho, Keeho, Keeho. A pretty name for a pretty guy. He felt something like relief flood through him, the word finally tumbling out. “Intak.”
Keeho’s grin softened slightly, his eyes shining with something warmer. “Intak,” he repeated,“Cute.”
Keeho tilted his head, studying him. “Why are you so nervous?” he asked, his voice dipping, softer now but no less teasing.
Intak licked his lips, trying to calm the storm raging in his chest. “I’ve never… I’ve never done this before,” he admitted, the words awkward and halting.
Keeho’s eyebrows shot up, his hands falling away as he stepped back slightly, looking Intak over like he was trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re a virgin?” he asked, the disbelief plain in his voice.
Intak’s face burned. “No! No, I’m not a virgin!” he blurted out. “I just—” He hesitated, looking away. “I’ve never… been with a guy before.”
Keeho’s grin returned, wider than ever, and he let out a laugh—full and boisterous, his shoulders shaking with it. Intak wanted to crawl under the sink.
“God, you’re adorable,” Keeho said, stepping close again, his hands coming up to cup Intak’s jaw, tilting his face so their eyes met. “Relax,” he said, his voice dropping to a lower octave. “I’ll make you feel better than any girl ever has. Promise.”
Intak shivered as Keeho’s gaze dropped to his lips. “Can I kiss you?” Keeho asked, softer now, more sincere.
Intak’s heart thudded painfully in his chest as he nodded. Keeho smiled as he leaned in, and their lips met in a surprisingly gentle kiss. Keeho’s lips tasted like artificial cherries, sweet and a little tacky, and Intak felt like he was floating.
Keeho was a good kisser. Too good. The kind of good that made Intak’s brain short-circuit, his body moving on instinct as if it had learned a new language it didn’t know it spoke. Keeho pressed closer, the hand still cradling Intak’s face tilting his head just so, deepening the kiss until it was messy and hot. His other hand hooked into Intak’s belt loop, tugging him forward as he crowded him even tighter against the bathroom door.
Intak whined softly—an embarrassingly helpless sound—when Keeho’s tongue flicked across his lips, teasing, asking for permission. Intak didn’t even think before he opened his mouth, and Keeho took it as an invitation. The kiss grew sloppier, wetter, Keeho tasted faintly of cherries and alcohol. Intak licked at his lips— that’s definitely lip gloss, holy shit —earning him a breathy giggle from Keeho that made his stomach twist in the most unfamiliar, thrilling way.
Keeho’s knuckles brushed bare skin where Intak’s shirt had ridden up, the casual touch sending sparks of heat up his spine. Intak’s hands were on Keeho’s chest without him even realizing it, fingers splaying across his pecs. Through the fishnet crop top, he could feel solid muscle beneath—firm, defined, different —not soft like a girl’s, but still good. Really good. He didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but his thumb brushed over one of Keeho’s nipples, flicking it through the mesh.
Keeho moaned into his mouth. It was a sound that went straight to Intak’s dick, and it felt like a small victory—a triumphant rush that made him want to do it again, to pull more sounds out of him. Keeho pressed even harder against him, grinding their hips together, and Intak groaned, realizing he was still just as hard as he was on the dance floor. Maybe worse. Definitely worse.
Keeho pulled back a little, his lips slick and shiny in the dim bathroom light. He didn’t speak, but his hands moved—finding the hem of Intak’s jeans, fingers toying with the button before pausing. Keeho tilted his head, looking at Intak with that same teasing, questioning gaze, asking permission.
Intak gulped, his heart pounding in his ears as he glanced down at Keeho’s hands poised at his fly. “Yeah,” he exhaled, breathy and a little desperate. “Yes, please.”
Keeho’s mouth quirked up into a smirk, and he chuckled softly. “Eager,” he said, the single word dripping with amusement.
The button popped open, and Intak gasped when Keeho tugged the zipper down. The cool air against the front of his boxers made him shiver, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of Keeho’s hand cupping him through the thin, damp fabric. Keeho’s palm was big, rough in a way that made Intak’s whole body hum with sensation. It was so different from the soft hands of the girls who had touched him before—so much more firm, so much more .
“Fuck,” Intak choked out, his head falling back against the door with a dull thunk as Keeho gripped him. He was leaking, dampening his boxers, and Keeho’s thumb stroked deliberately over the wet spot, teasing his head.
Keeho hummed, pleased, and leaned in close, his lips brushing Intak’s jaw as he murmured, “You really are big. Can’t wait to taste you.” He squeezed lightly, making Intak whimper. “Bet you’ll feel so good in my mouth.”
Intak’s shuddered at the words. Keeho was so straightforward, so confident, and Intak didn’t know how to handle it. He just groaned, nodding mindlessly, hips shifting forward as though begging for more.
Keeho tutted softly, his grip tightening just enough to make Intak pinch his eyes shut. His other hand came up to cradle Intak’s jaw, tilting his face back down so they were eye to eye. “Say it,” Keeho cooed, his voice low and silky, but firm enough that Intak’s chest felt tight.
“Wha—what?” Intak stammered, his thoughts scrambled by the heat pooling in his groin.
Keeho’s eyes glinted mischievously as he pressed his hand harder against Intak’s dick, his grip harsh. “Say you want it,” Keeho said, his tone a little sharper this time, a little more demanding.
Intak wheezed out a breath, his fingers gripping uselessly at Keeho’s shoulders. “Yes,” he managed, his voice strangled. “Yes, please.”
Keeho’s grip slackened slightly, just enough to make Intak gasp in frustration. “Yes, what ?” Keeho prompted, his smile turning wicked again.
Intak squeezed his eyes shut, his face burning with embarrassment. “Yes, please—please suck me off,” he choked out.
Keeho grinned, annoying smug and clearly satisfied with himself. “Good boy.”
The praise made something coil tight in Intak’s stomach—confusing, embarrassing, but so good he couldn’t bring himself to care. Keeho leaned up to kiss him again, fiercer and hungrier this time, like he was rewarding him. His lips moved against Intak’s in a way that left him lightheaded, Keeho’s teeth catching his bottom lip briefly before he pulled back. Then, without another word, he dropped to his knees right there on the filthy bathroom floor.
Intak felt like he’s going to black out. He watched, wide-eyed and panting, as Keeho looked up at him from below, his grin still playful but his eyes raking over the outline of Intak’s cock through his boxers. The sight alone was enough to make Intak’s cock twitch—Keeho, on his knees, hands bracketing Intak’s thighs as he leaned in.
“You’re gonna love this,” Keeho murmured, his fingers hooking into the waistband of Intak’s boxers, tugging them down just enough to free him.
The cool air made Intak hiss through his teeth, his hands twitching at his sides as Keeho wrapped his hand around him properly for the first time. Keeho’s thumb glided teasingly over the tip, spreading the bead of precome there, and Intak shuddered, a moan caught in the back of his throat.
"Relax," Keeho purred, his lips hovering dangerously close. "This is my favorite part."
And then Keeho leaned in, his tongue flicking out to lap at a bead of precum that was forming at the tip of Intak’s cock, looking up at him with deceptively innocent eyes, and Intak forgot how to breathe.
Intak felt distinctly awkward in a way he normally wouldn’t, unsure of what to do, where to put his hands, what to focus on. He curled his fingers into loose fists, pressing them against the sides of his jeans in a feeble attempt to steady himself.
The room felt warmer, the air heavier, like it was thickening around him. He could feel every shift of Keeho’s hands on his thighs, painfully aware of every place he was touching him.
Keeho’s mouth hovered so close, his breath ghosting against Intak’s heated skin. Intak shivered, a tiny, involuntary tremor that he hoped Keeho didn’t notice. His body felt too tight, as if something inside of him was coiling slowly, winding tighter and tighter the longer Keeho stared at him without really touching him. Teasing him. Intak wanted his mouth on him so bad he felt like he could die.
And then, Keeho’s tongue finally flicked out, licking a flat stripe against the head of his cock.
Intak gasped at the feeling of Keeho’s hot, wet tongue against his cock. It felt like so much, even though it was just teasing. It sent a ripple of heat rolling through him. His fingers twitched again, nails digging into his palms, trying to ground himself, trying to clear his head of the fog that seemed to be creeping in at the edges.
When Keeho’s lips finally wrapped around the tip, warm and wet and so soft, Intak let out a sound that was halfway between a groan and a whimper. It wasn’t loud—he was sure there was enough noise outside the bathroom to drown out anything—but to him, it felt deafening. Embarrassing. Ridiculously hot and so different than all the other blowjobs he’d gotten before.
Keeho didn’t take much at first, just the tip, his tongue curling over the head in a way that sent shocks of pleasure up Intak’s spine. His eyes stayed locked on Intak’s face, prideful and full of mischief, like he was enjoying every twitch, every shaky breath, every helpless sound Intak made. His full lips glistened as he pulled back slightly, sucking just enough to make Intak’s knees threaten to buckle.
“Holy shit,” Intak whispered, his voice cracking as his head fell back against the door. He wasn’t sure if he really meant to say it out loud or if it just spilled out, unbidden, like every other reaction Keeho was wringing out of him.
Keeho grinned around him, the curve of his lips sinful, before sliding back down. This time, he went further, his mouth enveloping more of him, tongue pressing firmly along the underside, and Intak’s vision blurred. His thighs tensed, his hips jerking forward, and Keeho didn’t seem to mind. If anything, the low hum that came from Keeho’s throat when Intak moved made his head spin even more, his dick twitching in Keeho’s mouth at the vibrations.
From this angle, Keeho looked unreal. His hair was messy now, strands falling into his eyes as he worked, unbothered by how the filthy bathroom floor pressed into his knees. The contrast between his confident posture and the submissiveness of him being on his knees—his hands gripping Intak’s thighs, his lips wrapped around his cock—made Intak feel heady, like gravity had shifted beneath him. He wanted to touch him, to do something with his hands, but he felt frozen, overwhelmed by how good this was. Already better than any blowjob he’d gotten from any of the girls he’d been with previously.
Keeho’s cheeks hollowed as he sunk down his length slowly, and Intak choked out another moan, louder this time. Keeho’s eyes flicked up, catching his, and he swore he could see the smirk even with Keeho’s mouth full. It was like Keeho could read every thought racing through his mind, every insecure, overwhelmed, desperate thing Intak felt, and he reveled in it.
Keeho pulled back, lips sliding off of him with an audible pop, leaving the cool air to brush against the wetness left behind. Intak gasped, his head tilting back against the door again, his pulse racing so fast he felt like he might pass out.
“You’re so sensitive,” Keeho murmured, his fingers tightening their grip on Intak’s thighs. “It’s cute.” His lips glistened, slightly swollen now, and Intak couldn’t stop staring. Keeho’s tongue darted out to lick the corner of his mouth, like he was savoring the taste of him, and Intak had to close his eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by the sight and the heat pooling in his stomach.
Keeho didn’t give him much time to recover. He leaned back in, his breath warm against Intak’s skin, and this time, he took him deeper. Intak’s eyes flew open, and he watched, transfixed, as Keeho sank down, inch by inch, his throat relaxing as he went. It was so much—too much—and Intak’s body shuddered, his thighs trembling as he let out a strangled moan.
“Fuck, Keeho,” he gasped, his hands finally moving on their own. One found its way into Keeho’s hair, threading through the soft strands, while the other gripped at the bathroom door for support. His grip was tentative, unsure, and Keeho hummed around him in encouragement.
Keeho looked up at him again, his eyes dark and half-lidded, and Intak swore he’d never seen anything as beautiful as this moment. His mind was a chaotic blur of sensations—the wet heat of Keeho’s mouth, the soft pressure of his tongue, the obscene sounds of sucking and licking filling the tiny bathroom. He felt like he was unraveling, coming undone at the seams with every movement of Keeho’s lips.
“Keeho—” Intak’s voice broke, his hips shifting again involuntarily. Keeho responded with a low groan, his hands sliding up Intak’s thighs to steady him, nails digging in to the plush of his thighs. The sensation was enough to pull Intak back for half a second, his heart thudding erratically as he tried to process how good this felt, how good Keeho looked, how he was the one making Intak feel like this. A guy. On his knees. Sucking Intak’s dick so good he’s dizzy. How did he get here again?
The thought vacated his mind as quickly as it came when Keeho pulled back again, slower this time, his lips dragging over Intak’s skin until just the tip remained in his mouth. His tongue flicked out, teasing, and Intak let out a noise he didn’t even know he was capable of making. Keeho chuckled, and looked up at him with that same smug grin, his lips shiny and flushed.
“You’re close already, aren’t you?” Keeho teased, his voice breathy and full of satisfaction. “You’re so easy, Intak. Do I turn you on that much?”
Intak’s chest heaved as he tried to form words, but nothing coherent came out. All he could do was nod, his body trembling as he clung helplessly to Keeho’s hair and the door behind him.
Keeho grinned like he knows exactly what he was doing to Intak, that smug look only intensifying as he slid his lips further down his length, taking him inch by inch. Intak’s jaw slackened, a sharp inhale tearing through his chest as the warmth of Keeho’s mouth enveloped him, deeper, deeper, until Intak swore Keeho was flush against the bush of hair at the base of his dick.
He didn’t even falter. There was no hesitation, no gag, just a slow, steady motion as Keeho swallowed him whole, his throat tightening briefly around Intak’s cock in a way that nearly knocked the wind from his chest.
“Holy shit—Keeho,” Intak choked out, his voice breaking, hands tugging instinctively at Keeho’s hair. His body was trembling, his head falling back against the door as a deep, keening sound spilled out of him. It felt unreal.
How does someone get this good at… at this? The question flashed briefly through Intak’s mind before Keeho’s throat spasmed again, the sensation so intense that any semblance of coherent thought was obliterated. Intak’s body jerked, his hips stuttering forward before he pulled back on Keeho’s hair in a weak attempt to stop him.
“Keeho—stop, I’m—I’m gonna—”
Keeho didn’t stop. If anything, he doubled down, pushing himself further until Intak was buried as far as he could go, his throat flexing around him. The sight alone—Keeho, on his knees, taking Intak so easily—was enough to unravel him.
Intak’s body went taut, every muscle straining as his orgasm hit like a tidal wave, crashing through him with so much force he could barely breathe. “ Fuck, ” he moaned, loud and broken, his hips jerking wildly against Keeho’s face as he came. He knew he was tugging at Keeho’s hair, probably too hard, but Keeho didn’t pull back—he groaned instead, and the vibration nearly sent Intak spiraling all over again.
Keeho swallowed everything. Everything. Not a drop escaped, and Intak’s mind spinned as he slumped boneless against the door, panting like a dog. His vision swimmed, static flickering at the edges, and it took a long moment for him to blink himself back into reality.
Keeho’s mouth slipped off him with an obscene sound, Intak’s softening cock falling from his lips as Keeho leaned back, looking far too pleased with himself. His face was flushed, his eyes slightly watery, and his lips—puffy and wet—curved into a smile. There was a streak of white at the corner of his mouth, and Intak watched, dazed, as Keeho’s tongue flicked out to catch it, lapping it up.
Intak swallowed thickly, his heart still hammering in his chest as Keeho tucked him back into his boxers, leaving his fly undone. Keeho looked smug, satisfied, and beautiful, and Intak felt insane—utterly unhinged in a way that was somehow thrilling and terrifying at once.
Keeho tilted his head, watching Intak intently. His face was glowing red, his lips well-used, and that’s when Intak noticed the straining bulge in Keeho’s leather pants. It was impossible to miss now, pressing painfully against the slick material.
Without thinking, Intak grabbed for him, his hand wrapping around Keeho’s wrist and pulling him up from the floor. Keeho let him, laughing softly as Intak crashed their mouths together, kissing him hard and messy, tasting himself on Keeho’s tongue—bitter, musky, but somehow hot in a way that sent a fresh jolt of arousal through him.
Keeho groaned against his lips, his body flush against Intak’s, but Intak was already palming at his cock, feeling the firm, heated line of him through the leather. “Can I—” Intak whispered between kisses, breathless and frantic. “Can I help you? Let me—let me get you off.”
Keeho pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes searching his face. “You don’t have to.” he murmured, though he sucked in a sharp breath when Intak squeezed him through the fabric. “You don’t owe me anything just because I sucked your cock.”
“I want to.” Intak insisted, his voice hoarse. He pressed his palm more firmly against Keeho, relishing the way Keeho’s hips twitched toward him. “Please. Let me do it. I really… I want to.”
Keeho’s expression shifted, something unreadable flickering across his face before his lips stretched into a slow, teasing smile. “You’re eager, huh?” he hummed, voice a little shaky, though he was clearly trying to sound unaffected. His hands moved to the fly of his own pants, unzipping them with deliberate slowness. “Fine. Who am I to say no to such a sweet offer?”
Intak didn’t know what he was expecting, but when Keeho finally pulled his cock free, Intak’s throat felt uncomfortably dry. Keeho was long and slender, flushed a deep pink at the tip, already slick with precum.
Intak moaned without meaning to, his own spent cock twitching weakly with interest. Since when does the sight of a hard dick turn me on?
Keeho laughed softly at his reaction, taking Intak’s hand and guiding it to wrap around him. Intak’s fingers twitched as Keeho showed him how he liked it—slow strokes at first, Keeho’s hand over his, guiding the rhythm. The weight of him was heavy in Intak’s palm, warm and wet, and it felt… good. Different, but good.
Keeho’s hand fell away after a few strokes, his head tilting back against the door as he groaned. Intak watched, entranced, as Keeho’s lips parted and his brows furrowed, every sound and expression making Intak’s stomach coil tighter. He kissed Keeho again, swallowing those soft, desperate sounds, his fist working faster now, more confident.
“Intak—fuck, yes, ” Keeho breathed, his hips beginning to rock into Intak’s hand. His voice was breathy and needy, and Intak realized how much he likes this—likes being the one to make Keeho come apart. Keeho moaned into the kiss, his thighs trembling, and Intak could feel it when he started to lose control, his cock twitching in his palm.
Keeho pulled back from the kiss suddenly, his breathing ragged, his eyes wild and desperate. “Intak,” he gasped, grabbing Intak’s wrist to still him for a moment. “Let me—let me come on your face. Please. So pretty. Been thinking about it since—Since we were on the dance floor.”
Intak’s cock twitched again, and he didn't think before he nodded, whispering, “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
Keeho’s face lit up, his grin turning feral as Intak pushed him gently back against the door before dropping to his knees. The floor was wet, and Intak didn’t think too hard about it—he couldn’t think too hard about it, because Keeho was right in front of him, stroking himself with quick, frantic movements, his gaze locked on Intak’s face.
Intak didn’t know what to do with himself, so he did the first thing that came to mind—something he’d seen girls do before. He looked up at Keeho, wide-eyed, and opened his mouth, sticking out his tongue as he batted his lashes.
“Come for me,” Intak whispered, his voice low. “Come on my face.”
Keeho’s entire body tensed, and with a low, broken moan, he spilled over.
Hot white streaks hit Intak’s forehead first, then his cheeks, his nose, and finally his tongue, a few drops landing in his open mouth. Keeho gasped through it, and Intak swallowed without thinking, the bitter taste strange but not entirely unpleasant.
Keeho slumped back against the door, chest heaving as he tucked himself back into his boxers. He looked down at Intak with a lazy, satisfied grin, his eyes raking over his face. “You look so fucking good like this,” he murmured, reaching out to cup Intak’s jaw.
Keeho swiped his thumb across Intak’s face, collecting some of the mess, and then tapped it against Intak’s lips. Intak parted them obediently, letting Keeho push his finger into his mouth, swallowing the rest of it with only a slight grimace.
Keeho cooed softly, a teasing edge to his voice. “Good boy,” he purred, pulling his hand away and helping Intak to his feet.
Intak felt off-kilter, his head hazy but his chest strangely light. Keeho smiled at him, like none of this was a big deal, and asked, “So? How was it? Your first time with a guy?”
Intak let out a breathless laugh, finally feeling relaxed. “Not bad.”
Keeho raised an eyebrow. “Not bad? That’s all?”
Intak laughed again, more genuine this time. “Okay, fine. It was… good. Really good.”
Keeho’s grin widened. “I can make it even better next time, if you want.”
Intak blinked, dumbstruck for a moment, but Keeho was hot, and Intak’s brain hadn't fully caught up with his body yet. So he bit back his hesitation and said, “Yeah. I think I’d like that.”
Keeho straightened, zipping the fly of his pants, looking unbearably smug. Intak’s head was spinning, his breath still shaky, when Keeho reached out a hand, palm open.
“Phone,” Keeho said, that same smug, demanding aura that he started with finally returning.
“What?” Intak blinked at him.
“Your phone, big boy,” Keeho repeated, eyes glinting with that same teasing mischief as before. “I’ll be offended if you leave without giving me a way to find you again.”
Intak didn’t even question it—didn’t think how is this happening or why is this happening —because his hands were already moving to fish his phone out of his jeans pocket. He unlocked it quickly with shaky fingers, the screen glowing bright white in the yellow bathroom light before he handed it over to Keeho.
Keeho took it with a grin, already focused on the screen as his thumb moved deftly over the keyboard.
“Clean yourself up,” Keeho said distractedly, jerking his chin toward the sink as he typed. “As good as you look right now, you can’t go back oht there like that. People will talk.”
Intak felt heat rush to his face—because he does probably look wrecked, and Keeho saying it out loud made him want to crawl into a hole. He shuffled awkwardly to the sink, gripping the edges as the dirty porcelain creaked beneath his hands. The faucet sputtered when he turned it on, the water ice cold as he splashed it onto his face and through his hair.
It did nothing to cool the lingering flush on his cheeks. When he straightened up again, dripping slightly as he patted himself down with a damp paper towel, Keeho was still grinning like he knew exactly what was running through Intak’s head. He held the phone out, his thumb swiping one last time before he handed it back.
“I saved myself under something special.” Keeho’s tone was almost sing-song, like he was delighted with himself.
Intak hesitated before taking his phone back, narrowing his eyes as he glanced at the screen. He gawked at Keeho when he saw the contact name.
Best Blowjob Of My Life.
“What the fuck,” Intak muttered under his breath, his voice a little strangled. “Are you serious?”
Keeho winked, utterly unbothered. “Accurate, don’t you think? I texted myself too, so now I’ve got your number. Don’t leave me on read, big boy.”
Intak opened his mouth to respond— to say what, though? —but Keeho didn’t wait for a reply. He adjusted his crop top, straightened the waistband of his leather pants, and sauntered to the bathroom door. Before he left, he paused, glancing back at Intak with that same damn grin.
“Text me.” And then he was gone, slipping out into the chaos of the party like a phantom, leaving the door swinging slightly behind him.
For a moment, Intak just stood there in silence, the only sound was his breathing and the distant thrum of music from the house. He stared at himself in the streaked mirror—his rumpled shirt, the mussed state of his hair, his jeans still sitting awkwardly after being tugged back on. He looked… undone.
He groaned, running a hand down his face, and quickly turned back to the sink to rinse himself off again, smoothing his hair down and swiping at his shirt to make himself look halfway presentable.
Act normal. Just act normal.
Once he was done, he tugged at his shirt one last time and slipped his phone into his pocket before stepping out of the bathroom and weaving back through the crowd. The party hadn’t changed; it was still too loud, too chaotic, a blur of voices and bass-heavy music. Somehow, though, everything felt different now.
By the time he stepped into the kitchen, his pulse had settled somewhat, though his mind still reeled. Jiung’s back was turned, his phone held loosely in one hand as he leaned lazily against the counter, scrolling aimlessly.
“Jiung,” Intak called, trying to sound as casual as possible. His voice still came out rougher than he intended, and he cleared his throat.
Jiung glanced up, brows pinching together in a scowl as he tucked his phone into his hoodie pocket. “Dude, where the hell have you been? You disappeared on me for, like, half an hour—”
Jiung trailed off mid-sentence, his scowl morphing into something else entirely. His brow furrowed as he tilted his head, his gaze narrowing in on Intak.
“What?” Intak asked, his voice hitching nervously. He tugged self-consciously at his shirt, checking himself over, but Jiung didn't answer. Instead, he snorted—once, loud—and then burst into full-on laughter.
Jiung threw his head back, his shoulders shaking as he laughed so hard he had to grip the counter for balance.
“ What? ” Intak repeated, more flustered now. “What’s so funny?”
Jiung finally managed to collect himself just enough to march up to Intak, still wheezing with laughter, and pointed a finger square at his chest. “You—you’ve got a cumstain on your shirt, dude. Holy shit.”
Intak froze, his stomach plummeting. “What?” He looked down in panic, and there it was—a faint, telltale stain near the hem of his collar. “No—I mean—”
“Oh my god, ” Jiung howled, doubling over again. “You whore. I didn’t know you got around like that. Who was it? Wait, don’t tell me—actually, no, I need to know.”
Intak’s face burned hotter than ever. “Shut up! It’s not like that!”
Jiung straightened up, wiping tears from his eyes and smirking. “Sure, man. Not like that. You just… what? Took a tumble in some questionable yogurt?”
Intak felt like he was going to die. “Shut up, Jiung! It’s not like that!”
Jiung raised his hands in mock surrender, but his grin was still taunting. “Hey, man, no judgment here. You do you. Just maybe… check your shirt next time?”
Intak groaned, burying his face in his hands as Jiung collapsed into another fit of giggles. He couldn’t even think of a decent comeback; his brain was still scrambled, his body still buzzing, and Jiung’s teasing wasn't helping.
And yet, as Intak dragged his hands down his face, a thought snuck in, unbidden but not unwelcome.
He was kind of glad Yeji bailed on him.
Because if she hadn’t… Well, he wouldn’t have been here, hazy and flustered, cheeks burning as Jiung laughed at him. He wouldn’t have had Keeho saved in his phone under Best Blowjob Of My Life, and he definitely wouldn’t have still felt the phantom press of Keeho’s lips and hands all over him.
And maybe it was the post-orgasm haze, or the fact his jeans were still sitting weird, but Intak realized something else:
He didn’t even know he liked guys. But now, he definitely knew he liked one guy—one very attractive, very annoying guy, at least.
Intak shook the thought off as quickly as it came, clearing his throat and turning to glare at Jiung. “I hate you.”
Jiung just grinned wider, punching his shoulder lightly. “No, you don’t. You’re too busy being grateful for whoever that was.”
Intak rolled his eyes, tugging at the hem of his stained shirt with a sigh. He hated that Jiung might actually be right.
Maybe he should text Keeho.