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Halloween is the one night a year when people can dress like a total clown and no other people can say anything about it. It’s the time when children come trick or treating until their teeth rot from the sweetness of factory candies, and high schoolers waste entire rolls of toilet paper redecorating the mansions on the rich side of town. But for college students, it's the chance to dress like a total slut.
Well, at least that’s what Juntae told him.
Yeon Sieun has never been a fan of halloween, let alone mingle with strangers who probably will catch hypothermia from all the skin they’re showing in this cold weather. He didn’t get the hype of the festivity, and he’d really rather stay in his dorm room rewatching his favorite crime series than socialize. But of course, his friends would never make that happen.
Ever since he became friends with Humin, Hyuntak, and Juntane, silence became a luxury for him. They were so full of life and energy, radiating like the sun and stars combined. Nonetheless, despite his display of annoyance at them, he was grateful for their presence and persistence in getting him out of his dorm.
For this year’s annual Halloween party spearheaded by Oh Beomseok, the group decided to go as different variants of Britney Spears. The idea stemmed from Baku, who got the idea after listening to every album of the said artists, which was then fully supported by Juntae, claiming that Britney Spears is an icon and should remain as an icon.
“Remind me again why we agreed to this?” Gotak grumbled as he uncomfortably adjusted his red latex suit. With no other choice, and after a week of bribing, he decided to wear Britney’s iconic Oops!..I Did It Again red latex suit that was too tight on his body. “I can barely breathe in this, fuck.”
A boisterous laugh escaped past Baku’s mouth as he ran his fingers through his hair, staring at the mirror. He was wearing a baby pink top that was tied above his belly button and silver pants that were too blinding once it caught light. Quoting Kim Kardashian, “Cause it’s iconic, and I love doing iconic shit.”
They were impossible, Sieun concluded as he sat and stared off into space. His mind wandered through his choices in life and how he ended up here. He was so lost in his thoughts that he could barely process anything as Gotak threw him a paper bag containing his costume. Staring up at the latter, he narrowed his eyes at him.
“Just do it man,” Gotak said, patting his shoulders before returning to his phone. For someone who was dreading the idea, he sure looked like he was enjoying it as time passed by. He was even taking selfies!
Juntae, on the other hand, was embracing his costume. Dressed as Britney in her Baby One More Time outfit—black miniskirt, tied up white long sleeve, and gray cardigan, and paired it off with a pair of knee socks and black shoes, he was smiling as he twirled in front of the mirror.
“Oh my,” he began, posing with his hand on his hip and the other holding up his skirt. “This is pretty cute, I must say.”
Baku made a sound of agreement, “We’re gonna be headturners! If there’s a contest, we’re gonna win.”
"If the contest will be about who’ll get hypothermia first, I’m sure we’ll win.” Sieun rolled his eyes as he stood up to go to the bathroom to change.
Begrudgingly, he began to strip off as soon as he clicked the door lock. In his mind, he was already in his bed bundled up in some fluffy blanket, and laptop on with his favorite crime series on display. But since his friends were pushovers, here he was, pulling on his pair of black flare pants that were too tight on his thighs and ass. He was so sure Juntae got this from the women’s section.
“Fucking hell, this is too tight,” Sieun complained as he tried to squat down to ease the tightness. “I’m not gonna last all night.”
The next thing he pulled from the paper bag Gotak gave was a black leather corset that was too small. He almost laughed ridiculously at the thought of how he was gonna fit in this. Luckily, there was also a white sleeveless top that was too sheer and left no room for imagination.
He pulled the top over his body before he creaked the door open, “Juntae, can you help me?”
Juntae was quick to come over and helped Sieun put on the corset, but like he thought, it was too small. Sweat began to build on their foreheads as Sieun held each end closer, while Juntae tried to pull the laces together like his life depended on it. The leather creaked in protest, and at one point, Sieun swore he heard a thread snap.
“Jesus, how tight is this supposed to be?” Juntae grunted, knee braced against the back of Sieun’s chair for leverage.
“I think I’m losing circulation,” Sieun hissed, hands turning numb from gripping too tightly.
“Beauty is pain,” Juntae replied breathlessly, pulling one last time before the corset finally snapped into place with a satisfying click.
They both froze. Sieun was afraid to move, while Juntae was afraid it might explode off him like a slingshot.
When Sieun dared to look in the mirror, he was speechless. The white top clung to him like a second skin, the corset cinching his waist in a way that made him look, well, let’s just say it wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when Gotak said “costume.” He was a walking hourglass.
Juntae stepped back, hands on his hips, admiring his work. “You look hot, Sieunnie!”
“Don’t.” Sieun glared, cheeks heating as he reached for the paper bag again. “I am already embarrassed.”
Embarrassing was an exaggeration. Sieun knew he looked too good. The pants made his ass look more defined and curved, and his waist was cinched to make it smaller courtesy of the corset. He wonders if his internal organs were alright.
Sighing, he made his way outside and two of his remaining friends were gobsmacked once they saw his outfit. Like a habit he can’t break, he rolled his eyes at them.
Gotak whistled, nodding in approval as he gave Sieun a thumbs up. “You look good, man. I’m sure you’re gonna bag someone hot later.”
“The only bag I want is a bag of Baku’s body.” Sieun said, flat as ever, and Juntae snorted so loudly it sounded like a coughing fit.
Gotak laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Oh, savage. Love that for you.”
“Wah, Sieunnie,” Baku exclaimed, gripping Sieun’s shoulders and grinned so wide. “You look amazing, sweetie!”
Sweetie? Sieun gave him a disgusting look. Baku was way too in his costume that it had morphed into his system and became his personality for the night. God help his friend.
Juntae sat on the bed, a worried look plastered on his face. “What if they say we’re queerbaiting? You know it's a serious matter, right?”
But Baku only gave him a look, “Sweetheart, we are queers.”
“Touche.”
“God, you’re both insufferable,” Sieun sighed, but there was a faint curve on his lips he couldn’t quite hide. He watched as Baku fixed the hem of his shirt, which looked one wrong move away from becoming public indecency, and then turned back to him with that same bright grin.
“Come on, Sieunnie, mirror selfies!” Baku chirped, already pulling his phone out. “We look too good tonight not to document the slay.”
“I’m not taking selfies,” Sieun said immediately, tone clipped and final. He only gave him a side eye.
“Too bad,” Gotak replied, already grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him closer to the full length mirror propped up against the dorm wall. Juntae scrambled to join them, muttering something about posterity while fixing his hair in the reflection.
Within seconds, they were all crowded together, the mirror barely wide enough to fit them. Baku stood in the middle, phone held high, striking a pose like he was born under a spotlight. Gotak leaned in from behind, flexing just to annoy him. Juntae flashed a peace sign, and smiled. And Sieun, who was caught between their shoulders, stood stiff as a mannequin.
“Loosen up,” Baku teased, elbowing him lightly. “You look like you’re about to take your passport photo.”
“Maybe I should. At least I’ll look decent in that,” Sieun muttered, but then Baku turned the camera toward him and the flash caught his reflection—the sheer top, the black corset hugging his frame, and his cheeks that were glowing with pink glittery blush on, and for a moment, he almost didn’t recognize himself.
“There!” Baku grinned, shoving the screen into his face. “You look hot. Like, unreasonably hot.”
“By the way,” Juntae trailed off, straightening his outfit. “Who do you think would go later?”
Oh Beomseok’s Halloween parties were the kind of event people circled in red on their calendars weeks in advance. He was filthy rich, and everyone wanted to be invited to see his mansion. Last year was the first time they were invited, and they weren’t disappointed to say the least. Everything was bright and loud, and even had a mini haunted house in the backyard.
“I heard Beomseok invited that MMA guy—what was his name again?” Gotak asked, trying to recall a name. “Suno?”
“Han Suno?” Baku shrugged his shoulders, “I just know he’s in my class and he’s a man of few words. Some people are weirded out by him but they still want a chance to bed him.”
“Ahn Suho!” Juntae corrected them. “His name is Ahn Suho, I think?”
The name was familiar, and the way Baku described him was familiar to Sieun. He had heard about the weird MMA guy in the Sports Management department and how he was a bit of an oddball; serious, intense, and didn’t talk much. He hasn’t actually seen the guy but he’s heard countless rumors about how he’s hot and the whole university population wanted to bag him despite being dubbed as weird. Apparently, he only hung around Kang Wooyoung and Oh Beomseok, which made him something of a mystery in the social scene.
“I heard Park Na-eun slept with him,” Juntae laughed. “Then proceeded to spread how he’s lousy when it comes to fucking.”
“Bro, I don’t think that’s true,” Gotak chimed in, fixing his hair in front of the mirror for the hundredth time that night. “She was already dating someone so Suho rejected her, but she got upset and spread that shit.”
That caught Sieun’s attention. He’d never liked how easy it was for people to throw around words, to twist stories just because their pride got bruised. He didn’t know this Ahn Suho personally, but he felt a pang of sympathy for him. This guy probably only wanted a peaceful life without people like Park Na-eun disrupting it.
After a trillion photos and too many takes of a Tiktok video of them lipsyncing to a Mean Girls audio, they all lined up before Gotak’s car.
Gotak, ever the responsible driver and unofficial group dad for that night, jingled his car keys like a victory bell. “Alright, my vain little divas, wrap it up. We’re gonna be late.”
“Let’s rock this bitch!”
Baku was practically bouncing with anticipation by the time they arrived. Oh Beomseok’s mansion loomed ahead, drenched in neon light and pulsing with bass that could probably be felt three streets away. The entire estate was decorated with top of the line decorations, leaving no area dull and plain.
Students from different degree programs were littered on the wide lawn with red solo cups in their hands. They were dressed in classic costumes, not really caring as long as they got to be in this party. Some were even indecent enough to make out by the fountain.
This was a nightmare for Sieun. Not even a minute inside and he already wants to go home. He glanced at his friends, who were excitedly talking, and sighed.
This was gonna be a long night.
If they were marveled by the exterior of the mansion, they couldn’t hide their astonishment once they stepped foot inside. It looked straight out of a magazine. The floors were marble with a hint of gold, and it was so polished that they could see their reflections. A massive chandelier hung overhead and along the huge staircase, its crystals glinting like spilled stars, and beneath it, people danced to music that made the walls hum.
Every corner of the room screamed luxury and old money. It was too fancy to be a college party. Not to mention the food area where finger foods lined up ranging from sliders to candies, each meticulously designed and prepared by their head chefs.
He wasn’t one for parties, but even he had to admit it was impressive. Overwhelming, but impressive.
Baku gasped, pointing to a huge bar by the dining hall. “Oh my god. Is that an open bar?”
“Please tell me it’s not just cheap beer,” Juntae muttered, craning his neck.
Gotak laughed, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “Beomseok’s rich. The man probably bathes in whiskey.”
Sieun could feel the stares from people, but they weren’t even stares of ridicule. Instead, people looked at them like they were royalty, and he knew it was because of Baku. The boy was too friendly, and to others, scary. Everyone knew him, and everyone wanted to be him.
“Let’s go get drinks!” Gotak yelled through the loudness of the music.
The walk to the bar was messy as people began to part to let them go through. Baku waved at each one of the people, giving high fives, and complimenting them along the way. It was ridiculous but Sieun was thankful as it made their route faster.
The bass pounded against Sieun’s ribs, making his chest thrum like he was part of the sound system itself. His head hurts from watching drunk people dance, and Juntae yapping beside him about how excited he was to drink.
“Sir, can you give us some Bacardi and Jaeger please?” Baku asked the bartender, who looked at him weirdly because of the drink of choice. “What? Those are the classics.”
“Jaeger as a shot and Bacardi as chaser? Yeah, we’re not making it out alive.” Gotak groaned, massaging his temples and contemplating his life choices. “I’ll only drink one shot ‘cause I’ll be driving us back.”
Juntae looked giddy, “I’m gonna get shit faced drunk!”
Someone brushed past Sieun a little too closely, the sticky fabric of their shirt grazing his bare arm, but before Sieun could react, Baku casually draped an arm over his shoulder. It wasn’t protective exactly, but it was enough to make whoever had bumped into him stumble back with a nervous laugh.
“Sorry, man!”
Sieun shifted his weight, trying not to look too uncomfortable. His outfit already drew too much attention, and he could feel eyes crawling over his skin. He hated that kind of attention. Baku, on the other hand, basked in it like sunlight.
When their drinks were ready, each one of them grabbed a shot glass that was filled to the brim with Jaegermeister.
Sieun made a face the moment he brought it close to his nose to smell. He was starting to regret it.
“On three,” Baku hollered, raising his shot glass to the air, the other three following right after.
“One!” Sieun closed his eyes, envisioning his state tomorrow morning.
“Two!” This time, he prayed for a time machine so he could go back into time and not befriend these idiots.
“Three!” Death.
It tasted like death the moment Sieun downed the shot. The liquor scorched its way down Sieun’s throat, thick and medicinal with a hint of licorice that made his whole body shiver. He winced hard, jaw tightening, and his chest felt like it was burning.
“Now drink the chaser.” Baku ordered, and like always, they followed.
It was even worse. Bacardi as chaser was like drinking acid. Who said this was a good idea? Sieun’s eyes closed the moment he finished drinking. The bile in his throat rose and he had to pinch himself from vomiting.
“Oh, god,” Sieun rasped, coughing into his fist as the aftertaste coated his tongue. “Why does anyone willingly drink that?”
“Because it’s fun!” Gotak yelled, thumping him on the back so hard Sieun stumbled forward.
Sieun’s idea of fun didn’t involve killing oneself with hard liquor. He was sure he was gonna regret ever listening to his friends.
The second round was already being poured. Someone behind the bar shouted Baku’s name, and suddenly a small crowd was cheering them on, clinking their own glasses in the air like this was some sort of competition.
Everyone was so into what was happening that Sieun took it as his chance to sneak off to somewhere quiet. Juntae was halfway through another shot, face flushed and eyes glassy while Gotak hovered beside him, wagging a finger and trying to talk sense into him. Baku, on the other hand, was already the center of attention, arm wrestling a senior while the surrounding crowd cheered his name.
No one noticed when Sieun turned on his heel and walked off.
He pushed through the crowd, stopping himself from getting annoyed at the people who gawked at him. When someone tried to touch him, one glare was all it took for them to cower away.
He passed by a room with the door half open, peeked inside, and saw a few people making out on the couch—someone’s lipstick smeared on someone else’s neck. He clicked his tongue, shut the door, and moved on.
Further down the hall, he found another door but this one was closed. The handle was cold against his palm as he turned it, and to his relief, it opened without resistance.
It was a study, or maybe a private lounge, dimly lit by a single lamp in the corner. Heavy curtains blocked most of the noise from outside, and Kendrick Lamar’s Not Like Us felt miles away now. There was a black leather couch, a mahogany desk, and shelves lined with books that probably hadn’t been touched in years.
Sieun exhaled, long and slow. The quiet felt almost sacred after the chaos outside. His fingers skimmed through the line of books, inhaling the scent of old paper. It was therapeutic for him, and it eased his nerves.
He was so lost in the moment that he didn’t notice another presence in the room until he turned around and almost shrieked when he saw someone leaning against one of the shelves. The person looked like they had been there the whole time.
“What the fuck!” Sieun clutched his chest. His voice came out higher than he intended, and he immediately cursed under his breath, trying to even his breathing.
The person in front of him was tall, broad shouldered, and toned muscled. He was wearing a black top that almost looked like his second skin from being too tight and fitting, muscles bulging, and black denim jeans to pair off. But what caught Sieun’s attention was his mask.
Ghostface mask.
The white of it gleamed eerily under the yellow lamp, that infamous distorted grin looking right at him.
Sieun’s brows knitted, and despite his quickening heartbeat, he hissed. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
He normally wasn’t a chatty person but his interests were suddenly piqued.
But the man didn’t answer, only tilting his head. This made Sieun more curious, and when he’s curious, it never ended well for him.
Sieun pursed his lips. One thing he liked about curiosity is the danger and thrill that comes with it. The feeling of not knowing but taking a leap of faith and seeking it anyway. He liked the feeling of his pulse quickening with every second of the unknown. When answers didn’t exist yet, everything felt possible.
He studied the figure in front of him, eyes raking from his ghost face mask and down to his lower body. Ghostface—Sieun decided to call him as—had taken the liberty to sit on the leather sofa, legs sprawled like he was inviting Sieun to crawl over to him.
For all he knows, Ghostface could be an actual serial killer on the loose, or maybe a pervert out to get him. Sieun knew he should probably run away, dash to the door and find his friends, but curiosity and challenge gnawed at his core.
“Are you friends with Beomseok?” Sieun began, leaning against the table, hands gripping the edge for support. “Hello?”
His skin crawled when Ghostface only leaned back against the couch, elbows resting behind him. His chest was rising and falling, and Sieun stared at the way his biceps flexed. Ghostface sat there like a statue brought to life, legs still sprawled, gaze heavy even through the hollow eyeholes.
“I see,” Sieun took it as a challenge. “You’re a real talker, aren’t you?”
He took a slow breath and straightened from the table, the wood creaking faintly under his palms. His curiosity was a wicked little thing—it lived in the corners of his mind, whispering what ifs until his better judgment drowned beneath it.
“You won’t answer?” There’s a twinkle in his eyes as he slowly saunters to the other. “Fine. I’ll make you answer me.”
Ghostface’s head tilted slightly, clearly amused despite the mask covering his expression, placing a hand on his thigh. Sieun had gone crazy when he got turned on at the sight. He wasn’t sure if he was still sane or the one shot of Jaegermeister and Bacardi had caused this.
There was just something about Ghostface that made Sieun’s knees weak. He had watched dozens of crime documentaries to know that this situation is dangerous and concerning, but it seemed like his feet were glued to the ground of the study.
Sieun stopped in front of Ghostface, “You really won’t talk?”
Like always, Ghostface remained stoic. He just leaned back again on the couch, arms stretched across the backrest. The mask stared up at him, unblinking, patient. It felt like a dare.
“Hmm, let’s see who’s the coward behind this mask of yours.” Sieun went to reach for the mask, but before he could, Ghostface snatched his wrist, grip tight but not enough to hurt.
He really should’ve been startled, but the touch made him melt. It was so strong, and so grounding that it made him grin, which was unusual for him. He freed his wrist from the grip, rolling his eyes from amusement and sat beside him.
“Scared are you?”
The air was thick with tension and it could be cut by a knife. Sieun sat still staring at Ghostface, while the latter just sat back without uttering any other word. He thought of ways he could make him talk or even make a noise, but every idea that crossed his mind were just…filthy.
Sighing, Sieun wanted to try out something. He reached out and poked at the man’s bicep. It was hard and huge, and Sieun wondered if his biceps alone could crush his skull. He kept poking but not a word or sound of protest came from Ghostface. He was getting frustrated, not liking it when people don’t respond to him.
He thought of how ridiculous this was, and how invested he had become. He blames it on the alcohol but he only had one shot. Then he proceeds to blame it on boredom but still, it doesn’t sit right.
“You still won’t talk, huh?” That was it, Sieun was frustrated. He only had little to no patience, and it was wearing thin.
Ghostface only shook his head, clearly loving the frustrated look on Sieun’s face. But he stopped when Sieun’s palm rested on his thigh.
The sudden stillness of Ghostface made Sieun’s lip curved up. A small reaction is still a reaction, and for him, it was a point. He stared at the mask, hand still hovering the clothed flesh. The change in the air was undeniable. The easy, arrogant composure that cloaked him cracked just enough for Sieun to notice.
Sieun could feel the faint tensing of muscle beneath his palm, the tiny, involuntary shift of breath beneath the mask. It was like pressing a finger against a fault line and feeling the tremor building beneath the surface.
“Oh?” Sieun breathed out, an octave higher. “So you can react.”
He saw how Ghostface’s shoulders lifted a little, and tried to cover up his reaction from earlier, but Sieun wasn’t having it. It was a triumph on his end. “You enjoy this, don’t you? Watching me get irritated.”
Sieun proceeded to poke on his thigh, but it was a weak attempt. When he saw no reaction, in a fit of irritation mixed with curiosity, his hand inched higher and higher until it rested beside the zipper. His throat bobbed as he heard Ghostface inhale sharply.
“You like that?” He proceeded to move his hand up and down his thigh, getting dangerously closer to the center. Sieun’s body was as warm as the sun, and it wasn’t because of the corset. The tension and the thrill of the unknown made him hard, and it was sick of him to imagine how Ghostface’s hand could feel on him.
Wanting to draw more from him, Sieun’s hand wrapped around Ghostface’s neck, testing the waters before he applied pressure. The sound he emitted was barely audible, but it was enough to push Sieun even more. He bit his lip as his hand went down until his fingers went beneath the shirt, caressing the soft skin.
By now, Sieun went to kneel in front of Ghostface, body trapped in between each of his thighs. His hands went to either side and slowly crawled until it reached the hem of his shirt. “This okay?”
The only reaction he got was a hand on his head, gripping his hair lightly. Sieun leaned back and almost moaned at the touch. The man didn’t need to speak; his silence alone was oppressive, heavy, intentional. It was like every breath Sieun took now belonged to him.
He stopped when Ghostface’s thumb brushed the side of his neck, right where his pulse throbbed fast and wild. A shiver coursed down Sieun’s spine. The mask tilted slightly, watching, studying. It was unnerving how quiet he stayed, how present he felt without saying a single word.
“You’re a fucking pervert.”
Sieun swallowed hard, squeezing his legs shut. The urge to test him again burned in his chest, to see what it would take to drag another sound out of him. His hands moved again beneath the shirt, tracing up the sides of Ghostface’s torso. He was chiseled, built like Phidias himself carved his body, and the warmth of his skin pulled Sieun closer. He wanted to see if he could push him further, if he could break that stoicness completely.
Looking up through his lashes, Sieun’s fingers went to the pair of nipples, teasing and grazing over the perked up buds. This got a reaction from Ghostface.
Though, it was just a shift of his legs, closing the distance between them, trapping Sieun fully in place. Every breath that escaped the mask was shallow, his hand stayed tangled in Sieun’s hair, but the pressure grew enough to make him gasp.
Sieun was incredibly hard by now, straining his pants that were too tight and suffocating. He loved it when someone was rough with his hair. “Ah,” He breathed out, that smirk finding its way back to his lips. “So you do like this.”
Ghostface didn’t nod or shake his head either. He only leaned down until the cold edge of the mask hovered just above Sieun’s face.
Sieun found himself pushing Ghostface back on the couch, a new surge of feeling in his chest as he pushed the top up to his chest, exposing the taller man’s chest. He glanced down at the bulge, licking his lips.
He looks big. He thought to himself. I’m so fucking sick for this.
Instead of cowering away with the humiliating fact of being on his knees for a masked stranger, Sieun basked in it. He loved it. He savored the burn of shame that crawled up his neck, the way it twisted into something darkly addictive. It was pathetic—he was pathetic. A maddening, gnawing need born from too many nights spent untouched, unseen.
He hoisted himself a little bit until his face hovered the masked man’s chest, breathing directly on one of his nipples. The man beneath him buckled, hand going down to grip Sieun’s nape. At the touch, Sieun took it as an invitation to attach his lips on one of the buds, tongue circling around it while his hand played with the other.
Still, the only reaction he got was the tightening of Ghostface’s grip on his neck, and the shifting of hips. Wanting more, Sieun hollowed his cheeks and sucked, leaving a purple bruise on the flesh. His hand tugged the other nipple, before he switched to sucking it.
Ghostface’s chest was smeared with hickeys and saliva as Sieun was still relentless, abusing both nipples with his mouth and hands. The burning desire in Sieun was ignited more as Ghostface pulled him off by his hair, faces hovering.
It was sick as fuck, the way Sieun wanted more. Despite the mask that separated their faces, he leaned up to mouth at the gap of the mask, feeling Ghostface’s actual lips. He traced it with his tongue before he pulled back and mouthed on the other’s abdomen, licking down up to the waist band of his pants.
“Can I?”
Ghostface answered him by unbuckling his pants, lifting himself up as Sieun let the fabric pool his ankles and discarding it elsewhere along with his boxers.
To say Ghostface was big was an understatement. Sieun’s eyes almost bulged from his eyesockets the moment he got a clearer view of the other man’s cock. It was thick, long, and the tip was glistening with precum. His mouth was watering, and he immediately wrapped his fingers around it.
“You’re big, huh,” Sieun said, astonished and in awe, pumping slowly to get a reaction from him but a hitch of breath was all he got. “I wonder how it’ll fit me.”
He leaned forward, hand still moving up and down the length as he dipped his tongue on the slit. Saltiness entered his tastebuds, but it was delicious and unlike any other. His lips finally closed on the tip, tongue swirling and tracing around it.
Ghostface remained calm and composed, hands pliant to the side as he watched Sieun work on his cock. The smaller boy hollowed his cheeks and spat on the cock, smearing the wetness along the length before he took him by his mouth.
The heavy feeling of having his mouth stuffed with a big cock was addictive. He bobbed his head up and down, his hand moving along the rhythm while the other cupped and massaged on the other man’s balls. It was so filthy and obscene, the sounds emitting from the lascivious act sent heat pooling his stomach. He drank every precum that oozed out like it was wine, and he was drunk off of it.
He tongued on the tip, pausing as he looked up with wet eyes. Ghostface was still silent, but his chest was heaving and sweat began to cover his body. Every time Sieun would hollow and suck extra hard on the tip, the veins in his arms emerged visible.
The room was filled with wet noises, and sometimes, Sieun would take him deep, the tip of his cock hitting the back of his throat, while the smaller boy’s nose pressed against his pelvis. His throat would close up on the length, and his airway would get constricted. It made him crazy and turned on as hell, moving his head at a much faster pace until tears began to stream down his face.
Sieun pulled back with a pop, gasping, lips wet with precum and his own saliva. “Can I sit on your cock? Or do you want to bend me over and fuck my brain outs, Mr Serial Killer?”
Suddenly, Ghostface’s hands held Sieun’s head and thrusted his cock inside the latter’s mouth. Sieun was caught by surprise as the other man lifted his hips and fucked up in his mouth. He let the other man use his mouth as a cocksleeve, the humiliation of being used made him more aroused. The gurgling noise filled his ears as Ghostface continued to fuck his face.
The tears in his eyes fell like waterfalls. It would’ve been alarming if it weren’t for the moans that escaped past Sieun’s lips. Ghostface angled his hips, thrusting up hard and pausing, a groan finally leaving his lips as Sieun’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, mouth filled with his cock.
“You talk too much.” Ghostface finally rasped out, voice hoarse and raw from not speaking for so long.
Sieun whimpered at the voice, lips still stretched over Ghostface’s cock. The hardness between his thighs twitched like it was liking the way the other man’s voice sounded. Even the voice was attractive, surely his face was too, he thought to himself. He squeezed his eyes shut as Ghostface resumed to fucking his face.
“You think you’re in control?” The tip of his cock pressed against the back of Sieun’s throat, sliding back and penetrating once more in a much harder move. “Think again.”
The loss of pressure in his mouth made Sieun whine, but before he could protest and beg for more, Ghostface was pulling him up to his lap. Each of his thighs straddled the other, still clothed but the bulge and wet patch on his pants gave out how he was so into it. His ass sat directly on the man’s cock, and he was so close to begging.
“You’re fucking wet just from sucking me,” Ghostface said, hands gripping his waist, moving his hips along his cock. “Do you like it when a stranger fucks your mouth? When someone stuffs your mouth so you can shut the fuck up?”
A loud crack echoed throughout the room as Ghostface lifted his palm and struck it on Sieun’s ass. The moan that left Sieun was almost inhumane, eyes screwed shut as the pain and pleasure morphed into one. He bucked his hips against the other.
“Cat got your tongue?” Ghostface chuckled, striking another slap on his behind. “You’re so fucking nosey, can’t keep your mouth shut.”
Control and power were the things Sieun treasured the most. But now, he was at the mercy of a mask man.
“Please—ah!” His body trembled as a wave of pleasure hit him when the other man rolled his hips, creating friction against the heat of their bodies. He gripped Ghostface’s broad shoulders, throwing his head back as he mimicked the action.
“Strip.” Was all Ghostface said before he let Sieun go.
He didn’t need to be told twice, and in his horny state, he was desperate. His pants were the first to go, struggling to get it off from how thick his thighs were, and all that’s left was his sheer white top, tight corset, and red laced thong. In his defense, it was only due to how thin and tight his pants were, so he opted to buy a thong for his comfort.
He smirked as Ghostface went silent, but he knew the man was gawking at him. It was undeniable that he looked ravishing standing in front of a man he didn’t know the face of; his waist appeared smaller in contrast to his thick thighs, and the string of the thong was so tight that it nestled between his flesh.
“Cat got your tongue?” Sieun was now the one holding the reign.
As he was about to remove his thong, Ghostface spoke, “Leave it on and come here.”
Just as quickly as he got back his control, Sieun completely discarded it and went down on all fours, crawling slowly. His palms pressed against the cold floor, spine curved in quiet defiance. In that moment, he wasn’t giving in; he was offering himself to the unknown.
Sieun crawled forward, inch by inch, his eyes locked on Ghostface. The mask stared back at him—expressionless, eternal, like a god waiting to be worshipped or a monster waiting to devour. He stopped just in front of Ghostface’s knees, breath shaky, the edge of his lip curling up.
He looked beautiful on his knees, and the other man looked like a divinity.
Ghostface’s hand caressed his cheek, thumb grazing over his lips before pushing it inside. His lips parted, warm tongue enveloped the intrusion, sucking and licking like he would with his cock.
“You look so good on your knees,” The other man said, retracting his thumb and replacing it with two of his fingers. “That’s where you belong.”
Sieun wanted to protest, to tell him he was more than just this sicko who kneels for a stranger, but he knew he would be lying. In this very room, with the music muffled and footsteps passing by outside, Sieun knelt like he was worshipping; him as a devotee and the other man his altar.
Words were foreign to him, and all he could do was willingly take in the fingers and suck on them. He coated it with his spit, humming as he does so. His head bobbed back and forth, the thick and long fingers touching every corner of his mouth.
“Come sit on my lap,” Ghostface commanded, leaving no room for argument. “Sit on your throne.”
Sieun obliged, cock twitching at the sound of his voice. Was it even possible to orgasm just from his voice alone? He wondered, straddling Ghostface, and gripping on his shoulders. His ass was pressed against the hard cock, rolling his hips.
“Patience,” Ghostface muttered, slick fingers reaching behind Sieun, the sudden touch grazing the latter’s hole. He pushed the thong aside, circling the rim and feeling it flutter. “Your hole is so tight but so eager to get filled, yeah?”
Sieun cried out when a finger was inserted, the sting was automatic but the pleasure overtook as Ghostface began to curl the finger, doing a beckoning motion. His nails dug into the skin of the other man’s shoulders, body in complete state of pleasure as another finger was inserted.
“You’re loosening up quick, darling,” Ghostface chuckled, pulling his fingers out before diving back in, rough and fast. His pacing made Sieun’s eyes roll to the back of his head, a certain thrust pressing over his sweet spot over and over again. “What a fucking slut.”
“Ah, ah, fuck!” Were all Sieun could repeat as he was stretched open, hole abused and tender. His hips moved to meet every thrust, riding the other man’s fingers like no tomorrow. His toes curled as Ghostface curled against a certain spot, slowing down to do a beckoning motion. His own cock was wetting the front of his red lacy thong with precum, twitching completely untouched.
“You think you’re ready for my cock, hmm?” Ghostface groaned, fisting his own cock as he watched Sieun ride his fingers. Every jab was intentional, scissoring the boy open until he was a quivering mess. “You were so mouthy before but now you could barely use proper words, sweetheart.”
Sieun was overwhelmed with pleasure, slumping against the other man’s chest. He was hiccuping as his head nuzzled on the other’s neck, chest heaving. He could feel the familiar heat of his orgasm in the pit of his stomach.
“S-stop, I’m gonna cum if–fuck,” Sieun tried to push the man’s hand off but failed to do so as his hole was inserted another finger, stretching his hole wider. His mouth was agape, the feeling of fullness nearly brought him to the edge.
“You think you deserve to cum?” Ghostface teased, thrusting three of his fingers inside, the warm muscle devouring everything he offered. His paced quickened, fucking Sieun with his fingers like a man on a mission, the latter taking it all. “Answer me, darling.”
“Yes…’ Sieun didn’t know how to address him. Hyung? Ahjussi? Ghostface? For all he knows this man could be twice his age. “Yes, yes, h-hyung!”
“Cum for me, doll.” Ghostface urged him, his fingers merciless in Sieun’s hole, jamming and thrusting like a jackhammer. “Cum for hyung.”
Sieun’s vision turned white before spots of colors appeared, his cock spurted out streaks of cum in his thong. Pleasure racked through every cell of his body, quivering as he hit his orgasm. His eyes were closed, tearstained red cheeks, and lips parted. His flustered body was covered with sweat, glistening even in the dim light.
“You just creamed in your thong,” Ghostface tsked, shaking his head in disapproval before he removed his fingers. “Still with me, darling?”
Sieun came down from his high, breath still uneven as he tried to calm himself down. But he was insatiable. He needed more than just that. His hole clenched against nothing, the feeling of emptiness made him pout. “Yes, hyung, fuck.”
Suddenly, Ghostface gripped his thighs and manhandled him until he was bent over the mahogany desk. Sieun gasped as the cold texture pressed against his skin. His bare ass was on display for the other man, parting his legs a little to expose his stretched out hole. His hands rested on the stack of paper on the desk, not even caring if they were crumpled or tossed aside.
He felt a hand on his left cheek, kneading the flesh before a sharp pain hit him. Sieun bit his lip, a moan threatening to spill. “P-please, fuck me.”
Another hit but this time, to his right cheek. The slaps surely left red handprints, and it’ll probably sting tomorrow, but god did it make him arch his back for more. “Hyung, please.”
“You like it when hyung slaps your ass?” Ghostface struck his ass again, harder this time. “What a fucking minx.”
Sieun pushed his body back, reeling under the harsh touch. “Fuck me, please. I can’t take i–”
Ghostface cut him off by thrusting just the tip inside, lubed up. “That’ll shut you up.”
The tip alone stung, thicker than the fingers that were inside him awhile ago. But he was hungry for more, pushing his hips back and taking more of the other man’s cock. His breath was knocked out from his lungs as Ghostface thrusted full force, pausing just to give him time to adjust.
It was maddening; the way the other man’s thick cock nestled so deeply into him that he could feel it in his stomach. His hole was stretched out and filled to the brim with the stranger’s cock, and the thrilling thought of the unknown aroused him more. His cock hardened again, sandwiched between his thong and the desk.
“You’re so tight and warm, I should’ve fucked you ages ago,” Ghostface grunted, both hands gripping each ass cheek and kneading them like dough. “Should’ve known you’d spread your legs for me this easily.”
His words made Sieun squirm, “M-move, hyung! Use me as you please, fuck, fuck, fuc—”
Ghostface didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled out, leaving the tip in before he thrusted back in. His hips moved like he was a man possessed, erratic and hard, leaving Sieun gasping for air. His hands found its way to the smaller boy’s corseted waist, gripping tightly that it would leave bruises after, and fucking into him deeper. He watched as his cock disappeared into the warm heat, each thrust creating sounds that were music to their ears.
“So good for me,” Ghostface angled his hips, hitting that spot again that made Sieun see the whole constellation. His stamina was to be applauded, fucking like he was in rut. “You like being used, hmm? A cocksleeve? A cumslut?”
Sieun absentmindedly nodded, feeling like he was on cloud nine with the way he was being fucked. “Y-yes, hyung! Love getting used, love your cock in me.” He was a blabbering mess, crying like he was hurt, but in reality, he felt too good that he didn’t want it to stop.
Ghostface snapped his hips back, before he thrusted again, burying his cock deeper into Sieun’s hole. He leaned down, hips pressing on Sieun’s ass. His hand supported his weight while the other snaked its way to curl on Sieun’s neck, headlocking him as he continues to fuck deeper and faster.
Sieun was sure everyone at the mansion could hear him now. His cries grew and his dick oozed with too much precum despite having orgasmed just earlier. He could feel the other man tighten his arm around his neck, restricting his airways. But he loved it. He loved it so much that he could feel the familiar heat in his belly again.
The mask felt cold against his ear as Ghostface leaned closer to the side of his face, “Say my name, Sieun-ah.”
The way his name rolled off from the man sent shivers down his spine. He didn’t bother asking why he knew his name, instead he let himself be fucked more roughly until he could feel nothing but the heat going in and out of him. He was choking, but that made him even wetter.
“Say my name, doll,” Ghostface repeated, breathing heavily against his ear as he continued to plunge his cock in Sieun’s abused hole. “Say Ahn Suho.”
Ahn Suho. The name alone made Sieun cum undone beneath the man, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he hit another orgasm, the name rolling from his tongue like he was calling out a divine entity.
“Suho-ya!” His toes curled, going limp, as he tainted the mahogany desk with spurts of cum. He was out of breath, chest heaving heavily, and eyes screwed shut. He was surprised he could even produce tears from all the crying he’s been doing.
His body fell on the desk, head pressed to the side. Exhaustion was an understatement to what Sieun felt but Ghostface—Suho, was still relentless, still fucking him like there’s no tomorrow. He let himself be used, crying out from oversensitivity, but it fell deaf to Suho’s ears.
All of a sudden, Sieun felt Suho halt his movements, thinking the man was finished but he was suddenly grabbed by the hair, though it was gentle, it still made Sieun groan. From behind, Suho’s cock was still nestled deep into him, still connecting their bodies. But a phone was suddenly in front of his face, and he understood the assignment.
“Pose for the camera, baby,” Suho said, one hand gripping Sieun’s hair, and the other holding his phone, back camera to them.
As soon as Suho clicked the shutter, Sieun smiled and stuck his tongue out, eyes lidded with post orgasm exhaustion, and tears still cascading. The flash almost blinded his eyes, but it was worth it. He knew he looked completely fucked out, like he had been used over and over again.
He whined when Suho pulled out, clenching on nothing but air, but he was suddenly turned to his back. The ghostface mask was still on, and he wanted to pull it off to see Suho’s handsome face. And that’s when it clicked to him that this was the infamous Ahn Suho.
Ahn Suho who was dubbed as an oddball who was too silent yet too dangerous to even reach. The same person whom everyone thought was lousy in bed, but fuck, Sieun can attest that this was the best fuck of his life and they weren’t even done yet.
“Suho-ya,” Sieun whimpered, hand fisting his cock beneath the lacy thong, which was damped with his own cum. It twitched in response as he felt himself get hard again. More, more, more.
Suho shook his head in amazement, fingers gripping each of his thighs as he folded Sieun in half. “You’re so eager to get fucked you’d spread your legs so quick.”
Sieun arched his back as Suho guided his cock to his hole. He spread his legs wider, inviting Suho to feast on him, to devour him like a wolf would to its lamb. “Please, fuck me again until I can’t even walk.”
The humiliation burned in his chest. Here he was, offering himself like he was nothing more than just a cumdumpster. But desperation won the battle, and he let himself be fucked again. Suho’s muscles looked good under the dim light, flexing without even trying to, and Sieun wished he could stay here forever admiring him.
Without any other word, Suho pushed inside, penetrating Sieun once more and not even letting him adjust. His thrust were intense, the new position allowing himself to fuck into the smaller boy even more. The thong was pushed to the side once more, though the front still strained Sieun’s cum covered cock.
Suho’s hand went to grip Sieun’s chin, forcing him to make eye contact. He pulled out before he slammed back in, ramming until he could only hear Sieun’s throaty cries, and the sound of skin slapping.
“You’re so tight for a slut, Sieun-ah,” Suho groaned, shifting his hips to press against that spot that made Sieun cry out loud. He stared at Sieun’s body and the way it looked underneath him. “You’re made to take my cock.”
Sieun’s hole gripped his cock like glove, eyes rolling back as Suho fucks into him in a new pace—deeper, faster, and sharper. He was like a ragdoll; legs spread open, body bent in half, and his face held tightly by Suho. He was in euphoria. Every drag of Suho’s cock in him sent him straight to heaven.
Suho wrapped a hand around Sieun’s throat, closing on his airways. He was getting closed, movements turned sloppy, while the other boy was fighting for his life, pleasure and oversensitivity taking over his senses.
“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum inside you,” Suho rambled, regaining his momentum. “Want me to cum in your hole? Fill you and knock you up?”
Sieun wanted to tell him that it wasn’t biologically possible, but in his fuck out state, “Yes, yes, hyung, fill me with your cum. I want it so bad, please, please.”
Suho’s thrusts turned frantic as he chased his high, his hand still putting pressure on Sieun’s throat. He screwed his eyes shut, “You belong to me, Yeon Sieun—fuck! Your hole belongs to me.”
Suho pulled off his mask revealing his face that was glistened with sweat, and from seeing that face alone, Sieun came, whimpering out a weak moan as he orgasmed for the third time that night. His back arched, and he gripped Suho’s arm that was on his throat. His cock leaked out little drips of cum, twitching one last time before he went still, trying to even his breathing.
“You’re so pretty when you cum, darling.” Suho moaned, chasing his orgasm, movements turning sloppy. With one last thrust, he spilled inside Sieun with a loud groan, filling him up with cum.
The air smelled like sweat and sex, and Sieun could still hear the party downstairs. But in his current state, he could only lay and wait for Suho to pull out. He could feel cum trickling down his hole, and he wanted to do nothing more but keep it plunge in him.
Warm lips pressed to his, and Sieun realised it was their first kiss. Their lips moved until it morphed into one, tongues sliding against each other. They explored every corner of their mouths, leaving no part untouched. His fingers locked on Suho’s hair, while his other arm draped on his nape, pulling him closer.
Suho’s tongue traced his bottom lip, urging him to open more. The taller man’s finger gripped his chin and propped his mouth to part even more before dipping his tongue and swirling against the heat. A whine left Sieun as Suho began to suck on his tongue.
Kissing Suho felt like the world burst into colors that he didn’t know existed. The taste of his mouth and the warmth of his breath were like drugs to him. His body pressed to his made him sick with desire, hands exploring him like a map.
Every part of him, Sieun wanted to consume.
When they pulled away, they were both breathless. A grin had found its way on Suho’s face, flushed with what they had done earlier. Sieun, on the other hand, was silent as Suho cleaned him up first, wincing when cum leaked out of him.
Sieun could feel his body tremble with bonedeep exhaustion as Suho quietly helped him back into his clothes. The world felt dim and far away, softened by the way Suho’s calloused hands smoothed fabric over his skin. The gesture was enough to make his heart flutter. He hadn’t expected this gentleness after experiencing the beast in the quiet body of Ahn Suho.
When he was finally dressed and presentable enough, he collapsed on the couch where everything began. Only then was he finally allowed to stare and admire Ahn Suho.
Under the faint light, Suho stood with his head slightly bowed, chest still rising and falling from the aftershocks of what they’d shared. His hair was a little messy, his lips red, his eyes softer than Sieun had ever seen them. His ghostface mask was discarded somewhere, and a blush crept up on his cheeks as he remembered himself getting turned on by it.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Suho suddenly spoke up, fully dressed but without the mask. He looked devastatingly handsome and hot that Sieun forgot to breathe. If he knew Suho fucked and looked like this, he would’ve slept with him sooner.
Suho tilted his head. “What? Cat got your tongue?”
But before Sieun could respond, the door burst open. The sudden sound made both of them jolt. Sieun’s head snapped toward the doorway, heart dropping straight into his stomach.
Juntae stood frozen in the threshold, hand still gripping the knob. His eyes darted from Suho to Sieun, who was sitting on the couch with his hair tousled, and skin still faintly flushed. It was obvious that they fucked.
“Oh my god,” Juntae finally managed, his voice a mix of disbelief and horror. “What the hell did I just walk into?”
Sieun felt every trace of color drain from his face. Suho, meanwhile, had the audacity to grin. “Close the door, kid.”
Juntae blinked, hesitating, eyes wide as if trying to decide whether to make a scene or run for his life. But Suho’s tone, or maybe the way he stood, shoulders squared and gaze steady, made him think twice. He shut his mouth before he stepped back and pulled the door closed behind him.
Sieun blinked, worried that his best friend would blabber about what he saw. But before he could indulge into his overthinking, he felt Suho sit beside him, pulling him on his lap.
“Hey—” Sieun started, but Suho’s arm circled his waist, pulling him in closer.
“Relax,” Suho began, trying to soothe the smaller boy’s back. “Your friend won’t spill.”
“You don’t know that,” Sieun muttered, though the words came softer than he intended. His fingers gripped Suho’s shirt, feeling the warmth beneath. “He’s my best friend. He’s probably freaking out right now.”
“Maybe,” Suho shrugged his shoulders, one hand coming up to the back of Sieun’s neck, thumb drawing lazy circles. “But he’s your friend. He’ll protect you before he hurts you.”
Silence pressed onto them, but Sieun didn’t mind. In fact, he liked how silence felt between the two of them. It hadn’t even sink into him that they fucked, let alone the fact that Sieun fucked him before even knowing who he was behind the mask.
Filthy, just pure filthy. He was lucky it was Suho and not someone else.
“Ahn Suho,” Sieun trailed off, taking a good look at the other boy, a smirk displayed on his face. “That Na-eun girl was wrong.”
Suho arched an eyebrow, “Who?”
“You can actually fuck.” Sieun said, feeling proud that he could be a testament to Suho’s abilities.
But a confused look was still etched on Suho’s face, “When have I ever been incompetent in sex?”
Sieun shrugged, he wasn’t going to explain to him about the ongoing rumors about him. But now he could confirm that they were indeed rumors, nothing more. One thing is for sure, Suho fucks like he has a gun to his head, and Sieun willingly let him.
Suho’s arm slipped around his waist, pulling him closer, “Wanna get out of here?”
“Wanna fuck again?”
Halloween was truly the one night of the year when you could dress like a total slut and no one can say anything about it. It’s the time when children come trick or treating until their teeth rot from the sweetness of factory candies, and high schoolers waste entire rolls of toilet paper redecorating the mansions on the rich side of town.
But for Yeon Sieun, it became the night he got fucked by Ghostface.