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Men are easy. They’re so easy that sometimes Seonghwa feels bad for taking advantage of them. But then they slide too close, breath reeking of alcohol, hands wandering a little too low, and then Seonghwa doesn’t feel bad at all.
Sometimes he’ll stop after getting a few drinks for free out of them, sometimes he’ll let them take him home and have their way with him before passing out, drunk, and with their wallets lighter than they’ll ever remember.
He’s quick with his fingers, able to slip watches, rings, even necklaces from his targets before slipping away or distracting them with a bat of his eyelashes and a flick of his tongue. His usual spot is a bar—dim lights and flowing booze help loosen everyone, make them vulnerable. And that’s the kind of men that Seonghwa likes the most. Vulnerable.
Not in the sense that they’re pushovers, but the ones who think they’re smarter than him, slyer than him, think they have a silver tongue and the biggest cock in the room and could fuck him so well that he’d come crawling back for more.
Tonight, he’s run into a few men like that while sitting at the counter of the bar in some glamorous hotel. There’s a music show going on somewhere in town, and people are flocking the area in droves. And if there’s any type of man more gullible than the denizens of Seoul, it’s men that are visiting. In their eyes, they have nothing to lose—they’re on vacation, work trips, and nothing follows them home.
Seonghwa sips on his martini as he scans over the room. Smartly dressed men occupy every table, a sight that he didn’t normally expect for a concert crowd, but judging by the location and the general appearance of them, he’d say that they’re producers mingling, networking, putting a name to a face and vice versa. A couple of them look his way, some nodding, some tipping their own drinks to him, but none take the bait and approach, too enraptured in their own conversations to spare him more mind.
He's not necessarily here just to snag a few free drinks, or even swipe fancy jewelry from unsuspecting wrists. He’s here for a quick lay, someone who’ll fuck him fast and hard and clear his head from the shitty week he’s had so that he can start again next week refreshed and energized.
After a few more scans of the room, he turns back to face the bar and downs the remainder of his drink, signaling to the bartender for another. If things don’t work out, then he knows he can find someone on a dating app. But he prefers face-to-face.
It’s halfway through his second glass that someone slides into the seat next to him. With other open stools at the bar, Seonghwa looks at the person’s reflection in the mirror behind the counter, but the various bottles prevent them from making eye contact. He looks out of the corner of his eye and sees that the man who’s sat next to him is fully faced his way.
“What’re you drinking?” a voice higher than he imagined says. Seonghwa almost rolls his eyes as he turns to face the stranger.
He’s dressed like almost every other man in the bar: black trousers, black sport jacket, and a black button-up with the top few buttons undone. His hair is dyed a reddish-orange. Not as obnoxious as some styles Seonghwa’s seen, and somehow it suits the man’s pale complexion and small face. Actually, he’s small all over, noticeably a few centimeters shorter even while sitting.
Seonghwa drags his eyes up and down the man’s frame and replies, “A martini.”
“Can I buy you another one?” the stranger asks with a confidence that Seonghwa’s all-too familiar with.
If he wasn’t so horny, he’d tell him to piss off, but he downs the rest of his drink and says, “Sure.”
As the man raises his hand to flag down the bartender, Seonghwa spies a vintage Padellone glimmer on his wrist. Gold case with a clean, pristine-white face. He doesn’t blink, and his heartrate spikes.
Surely it would be stupid of him to even try. He wasn’t planning on snagging anything tonight, but… His fingers itch as the watch disappears under the man’s sleeve as he makes his order. After he finishes, he turns his attention back to Seonghwa.
“Hongjoong,” he introduces with an outstretched hand. Not the one with the watch.
Seonghwa gulps, acutely aware of needing to introduce himself in turn, but unsure what name to use. He didn’t plan on stealing anything tonight. Giving out his real name could be dangerous.
But he can behave. He has self-control. He can keep himself in check tonight.
He takes Hongjoong’s hand and says, “Seonghwa.”
“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong repeats, the syllables rolling off his tongue like a breathless gasp. “Hwaseong.”
Seonghwa rolls his eyes. “You’re far from the first man to make that discovery.”
“Am I the first man to buy you a drink tonight?” Hongjoong asks in return. His toothy smile makes it hard for Seonghwa to feign his annoyance. It’s a little playful, like a child, and a little promiscuous. What a strange man.
On one hand, men smaller than him aren’t usually Seonghwa’s type. He prefers more muscular men, men who look like they could pick him up and pin him to the wall with ease. Hongjoong’s stature looks more like he’d struggle to do a single push up, yet there’s a glint in his eyes, devious and plotting, that draws Seonghwa in, as if the other man isn’t exactly as he seems.
“You are.”
If the confirmation shoots to his ego, Hongjoong doesn’t let it show. “You don’t look like you’re attending the festival,” he notes, taking a sip of his matching drink. Seonghwa notices the slight grimace that he tries to veil.
“Neither do you,” he shoots back. Hongjoong chuckles at his candidness. He looks at Seonghwa with a different smile this time, genuine, one that leaves his heart fluttering in different ways.
“Actually, I work as a producer for a company that some of the artists are under.”
“So you’re here on a business trip?”
“Something like that.” Hongjoong rests his chin in his hand. “What about you? What brings you to a fancy hotel bar if you’re not a guest?”
Seonghwa shrugs. “Just like to get out every now and then.”
“See who’ll buy you a drink?” Hongjoong drops his hand onto the bar—the one with the watch—and slides it closer until he’s almost touching the base of Seonghwa’s glass.
It doesn’t matter if they’re men or women. If Seonghwa’s looking for a good time, he isn’t picky. But he does have his preferences. He prefers to bottom, prefers men, prefers when they approach him first, and prefers when they’re straightforward with their advances.
Hongjoong checks all of those boxes, on top of being unexpectedly handsome. From the other side of the room, Seonghwa wouldn’t even give him a second glance, but up close like this, he can’t stop counting his individual eyelashes, or tracing the outline of his eyebrows repeatedly, or focusing on how sharp the corners of his eyes are. He’s fairly unassuming, but he looks like he has the stamina of a racehorse.
Seonghwa raises his eyebrows suggestively as he finishes the rest of his drink in one gulp.
“See who’ll buy me another,” he drawls. He tries not to smirk when Hongjoong flags down the bartender again. Easy.
He orders something different this time and something for himself. Seonghwa tries not to let his satisfaction show when Hongjoong orders him a sweet cocktail rather than the dry ones he’s been drinking tonight.
When the bartender sets the glasses down in front of them to pour them out, Seonghwa watches as a pink concoction fills his highball glass, complete with an orange wedge on the rim. As the bartender mixes Hongjoong’s drink, Seonghwa asks, “Why aren’t you with your coworkers?”
“They’re at a dinner with some investors,” Hongjoong chuckles, picking up his glass, “and I’m kind of people’d out for the day.” He raises his own cup for a toast.
Seonghwa huffs out a laugh and indulges him. “Then I should be thankful that you’ve decided to grace me with your presence.”
Their glasses chime when they touch, and Seonghwa doesn’t look away as he brings his drink to his lips. Hongjoong doesn’t either. Bold.
Just from his body language and actions alone, Seonghwa can tell that the other man has a naturally flirty personality. He’s not awkward, even if they are strangers and don’t have much to talk about, and his strange mixture of confidence and bashfulness is a little endearing. Seonghwa quite likes talking to him.
“A bar is a strange place to wind up in if you’re sick of people,” Seonghwa hums. He can taste the sugar from the alcohol on his tongue.
Hongjoong says, “The mini bar upstairs is fucking expensive. And I prefer mixed drinks.” He swirls his glass, the ice clinking around. There’s a gold signet ring on his finger, but Seonghwa is still captivated by the watch peeking out from the cuff of his jacket.
It would be so fucking stupid to try anything, especially since he was starting to lean more towards following Hongjoong upstairs if he invited him. Hotel rooms are the perfect place for a hookup. It means they’re both there temporarily, an unspoken agreement of secrecy and silence. They’ll clean up, say their goodbyes, and never see each other again.
Only this time, Seonghwa knows both of them are local. Seoul is a big city, and the chances of running into Hongjoong again are slim to none, especially because he doesn’t look like he gets out much, if the paleness of his skin is anything to go by.
Hongjoong slides his arm across the bar, fingers touching the base of Seonghwa’s glass, watch out in the open. The dulled gold shines brightly even under the dim lights. Vintage. Probably older than both of them combined. For a moment, the thought of taking something that could potentially be an heirloom makes Seonghwa hesitate. But the watch isn’t unique. Rare, sure, and a collector’s item for certain, but nothing unique.
Could he even sell it? He wouldn’t get a tenth of what it’s worth from his fence, and he couldn’t auction it without any paperwork, or even try to consign it. Why do his fingers itch so bad when he looks at something that would bring more harm than good?
His breath hitches when Hongjoong’s fingers lightly brush over his knuckles. The ginger-haired man gives him a wry smirk as he traces over the dips of his bones.
“How long were you planning on staying tonight?” Hongjoong murmurs. The timbre of his voice sends a shiver down Seonghwa’s spine. His first instinct is to say something snarky, something flirty back, but intuition tells him that that’s not what Hongjoong’s looking for here. He’s scoping him out, eyeing him up and down—debating if he’s worth it.
Seonghwa gulps. His fingers twitch as Hongjoong’s hand glides further up his wrist, the cool temperature of the case juxtaposing the heat from his body.
“Not sure.”
It comes out breathless. Hongjoong’s grin widens. Right answer.
He wraps his hand around Seonghwa’s wrist and drags him closer, lips pressed to his ear, words ready, teeth grazing ever-so-slightly.
“How about—”
Seonghwa startles when a loud crash silences the lively bar. Both him and Hongjoong and all the other patrons turn towards a table near the entrance where they see a server with a tray of knocked-down glasses and a couple next to him that looks stunned. They probably ran into each other as they were leaving.
While people continue to look on at the spectacle, Hongjoong included, Seonghwa’s mind zips back to the watch. He looks down at it as his heart races in his ears.
Now’s his chance. It would take less than a minute—no, less than a second. No one would notice, not even Hongjoong until he got up to his room for the night. Seonghwa would have to forgo everything else, which is a bit of a disappointment as he wouldn’t object to spending the night with the other man, but if he took the watch, he’d have to be gone fast.
Seonghwa blinks. Another employee scrambles to help pick up the broken glasses. Hongjoong sucks in a breath like he’s about to say something, and Seonghwa acts before he thinks.
He snatches his hand out and snakes his fingers around the strap. Hongjoong doesn’t seem to notice, still distracted by the spectacle unfolding around them. Seonghwa will have to unbuckle the band, but that shouldn’t be too big of an issue. Clasps are easier, but Hongjoong’s not paying attention. He’d never notice. Seonghwa just has to unfurl the leather and he’s in the home stretch.
He flicks his eyes up and Hongjoong is still looking away. He looks back down to where he’s almost got the watch free, and then when he looks back up, Hongjoong is looking down at his wrist.
Fuck.
Seonghwa freezes, hand stopped where his fingers are looped through the loosened leather band. Hongjoong looks over to him, expression unreadable. He fumbles for an excuse, debates recoiling his hand back. But then that would be even more suspicious.
“I-I, uh… wasn’t trying to take your watch,” Seonghwa blurts out, flustered. His mind races as he tries to think of an excuse for his hands clearly wrapped around a watch worth more than a sports car, and while booking it would’ve arguably been the best option, his brain instead settles on, “I was… just coming on to you…?”
He feels the seconds tick through the watch face beneath his finger pads.
Hongjoong’s eyes are sharp as they stare at him, unblinking, as if seeing straight to Seonghwa’s core. It makes a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck.
He could shout and make a scene, so many witnesses around them to corroborate Hongjoong’s story: that he was taken advantage of by a swindler while having an evening drink. The police would buy it, the cameras would hold concrete evidence.
But just as Seonghwa expects the worse, Hongjoong’s mouth curls into a devilish grin that makes him shiver in other ways. He leans in close and whispers into Seonghwa’s ear, “Let’s go upstairs, then.”
Without missing a beat, Hongjoong re-buckles his watch, pulls out his wallet and lays a few bills on the bar, and then he stands and offers his hand to Seonghwa. And Seonghwa can’t refuse him. He’s too intrigued. And also slightly worried that the other man may call hotel security if he leaves.
The ride up the elevator is awkward, to say the least. With mirrors on all four walls, there’s nowhere Seonghwa can look without Hongjoong being in the frame. And on top of that, while they were sitting at the bar, he couldn’t differentiate their heights that well, but now he can tell he’s a good few centimeters taller. Hongjoong doesn’t seem like he bottoms often, his aura a little too chaotic, his lips a little too mischievous.
They ride up to one of the highest floors before the elevator dings at their stop. A penthouse suite. In the back of his mind, Seonghwa wonders which company Hongjoong works for. There are a number of entertainment companies in Seoul. He must work for one of the bigger ones.
“Do you normally bring people back to your hotel room?” Seonghwa asks just to fill the silence, tense on his end, unreadable from Hongjoong’s.
Hongjoong just shoots him a wry smirk over his shoulder as he unlocks his door. Seonghwa only gets a moment to take in the interior—a long entryway, lined with mirrored closet doors and the bathroom, leading into the bedroom and sitting area—before he’s being shoved against the back of the door and kissed hard.
It takes him by surprise, but he recovers quickly. Hongjoong kisses him with all tongue and teeth, hands roaming, grasping, playing with the buttons on his shirt.
“Sweet,” he hums, and then he dives in again.
The bitterness from his drink is laden on his tongue. Normally, the taste would have Seonghwa grimacing, but Hongjoong’s hot breath makes his head feel woozy, and his fingers slipping beneath his shirt makes him shiver. He lets out a soft sigh as the urgency starts to simmer between them.
Gently, Hongjoong unbuttons Seonghwa’s shirt and wrenches it open, the cool air of the hotel room and the heat of Hongjoong’s fingers sending goosebumps all over his skin. When he leans up to kiss him again, in the back of his mind, Seonghwa imagines him standing on the tips of his toes, and the idea makes him dizzy.
He gasps high when Hongjoong dips down to kiss along his neck.
“Do you wanna top of bottom?” Hongjoong asks, traveling lower.
“Bottom,” Seonghwa says without missing a beat. He arches into the touch, body feeling light. Something about Hongjoong being shorter, something about him being smaller, something about him being cocky and demeaning and commanding and… He needs to experience this once in his life.
Hongjoong lets out a quiet chuckle and muses, “So tall. And you like to bottom?”
Seonghwa whines as Hongjoong snags a nipple between his teeth. He runs his hands down his waist.
“Greedy.”
His head is spinning, so Seonghwa doesn’t realize that they’re still standing in the entryway of the suite, half naked and half hard. Despite his cocky attitude, he can see that Hongjoong is straining against the front of his pants. It makes his mouth water a little.
How big is he? He looks a little smaller than himself.
Hongjoong peppers kisses up Seonghwa’s chest, up his neck.
“You’re going cross-eyed, baby,” he chuckles. “What’re you looking at?”
Seonghwa tugs on his belt. “Take off.”
Hongjoong laughs.
“So cute. You wanna see my dick that bad?”
“Just wanna see if I’m bigger than you,” Seonghwa hums.
Hongjoong grins crooked and snakes an arm around his waist, pulls them close together and grinds their clothed erections together, earning him a sharp hiss from Seonghwa.
“Go ahead then,” he goads. “Take them off.”
The way he says it… the way he has to look up at Seonghwa when he says it, the way he talks down to Seonghwa when he says it… Everything that’s happened since they stepped foot in Hongjoong’s hotel room has been making Seonghwa realize more and more that maybe he won’t be able to walk away unscathed from an encounter like this.
With shaking fingers, he pops the button on Hongjoong’s trousers, the silky fabric slipping easily over itself. He can’t help but lick his lips as his fingers brush over Hongjoong’s bulge and earn him a soft little gasp from the shorter man.
“Stop teasing,” Hongjoong warns, but he sounds a little breathless and a little obsessed.
Reflex tells him he should say something snarky back, something quick. But intuition has him holding his words as he nods his head in compliance.
“Good boy.”
Seonghwa shivers as he slips his hand beneath the waistband of Hongjoong’s boxer briefs.
Hot.
“Shit,” he curses as he pulls Hongjoong’s cock free. He stares at it for barely a second before dropping to his knees. Hongjoong sucks in a sharp breath.
He tastes clean, like he’d taken a shower just before heading down to the bar. Perhaps he did, but if it’s because he had every intention of trying to pick someone up, Seonghwa doesn’t worry himself with that, not when Hongjoong’s cock is hot and heavy on his tongue, thick vein felt on his lip as he swallows him down until he’s hitting the back of his throat.
“Oh fuck.” Hongjoong’s legs buckle and his hips stutter. He threads his fingers through Seonghwa’s hair uncharacteristically gentle.
Seonghwa moans and hollows his cheeks. He’s bigger than Hongjoong, that’s for sure, but he’s not disappointed in his size. If anything, he fits perfectly in Seonghwa’s mouth. His thickness is just enough to make his jaw ache in the best way possible, and he’s long enough that his tip hits the back of Seonghwa’s throat without suffocating him.
Hongjoong thrusts shallowly into his mouth, but not enough to choke him, and not nearly as rough as some other men Seonghwa’s been with. In fact, it’s almost as if he’s taking great care to be as gentle as possible.
“You’re doing good,” Hongjoong murmurs, cupping Seonghwa’s cheek and rubbing his thumb soothingly against it. “But you should stop.”
Seonghwa whines in defiance and takes him further. Hongjoong sucks in a sharp breath.
“If you keep this up then I’m gonna cum, and there’s more I wanna do to you before that happens.” He clicks his tongue. “You wanna be good, right?”
Seonghwa hates how his natural response is to whimper submissively.
He pulls off reluctantly without another word, Hongjoong’s hand now around his jaw, a thin string of spit connecting his lips to the other man’s tip. He can still taste Hongjoong on his tongue, still feel the way his mouth wants to unhinge itself to fit around him. He looks up and finds Hongjoong grinning down at him with a mixture of familiarity and satisfaction in his eyes.
Seonghwa gulps as he rises on shaky knees. Though he’s a good few centimeters taller and wider, he feels small under Hongjoong’s unyielding gaze. It’s as if he’s looking down on him.
Hongjoong’s eyes rake up and down his front. “Hands against the wall, baby. You wanna be fucked here or the bed?”
“Here.” Seonghwa shudders as he turns around and places his palms flat against the wall. He arches his back.
“Mmh. I’ll fuck you in bed after, too. Think you’ll be up for it?” He grinds himself against Seonghwa’s ass, and a lewd moan escapes both of them.
Now, all Seonghwa can picture is Hongjoong on top of him, hoisting Seonghwa’s legs over his shoulders as he pistons into him so hard Seonghwa can feel him in his throat. Hongjoong’s ginger hair is stuck to his face from sweat in his imagination, and his lips are red. His breath is hot and his cock is hitting all the right places and—
Seonghwa whimpers as Hongjoong unfastens his trousers, letting them fall to the floor. The cold air in the hotel room bites his skin, but Hongjoong runs his warm hands over his hips, tracing over Seonghwa’s curves with rapt appreciation.
“You have nice skin,” he muses, clapping the meat of his ass and kneading it. He spreads him open, and not being able to see what he’s doing leaves Seonghwa on edge in anticipation of Hongjoong’s next move. “Did you prep yourself before you came here?”
“M-mhm.”
Hongjoong blows against his hole and he gasps. He can almost hear the wicked grin that spreads across the other man’s face.
“Good,” Hongjoong says simply, and then he laves his tongue over Seonghwa’s hole, and Seonghwa cries out in surprise.
He braces himself on the wall as Hongjoong licks and sucks his puckered rim like he knows exactly how to push Seonghwa over the edge. It’s a little infuriating how good Hongjoong is at reducing him to a whining mess, but things really couldn’t have worked out better. At first, Seonghwa was afraid that he’d call security on him or get him arrested. Now, he doesn’t really care. As long as he fucks him so hard it leaves him brainless, Seonghwa doesn’t care what happens after.
And really, he’s already halfway there. When Hongjoong slips his fingers in alongside his tongue, scissors Seonghwa open and licks into him deeper, well… Seonghwa feels his brain short circuit a little. It’s so wet and obscene that he almost begs for more.
Precum drips from his tip and onto the floor, a mixture of saliva and lube clinging to the inside of his legs. Hongjoong moans as he eats him out, palming at his cock languidly as he does so.
“H-Hongjoong,” Seonghwa preens. He’s so close, but he doesn’t want Hongjoong to stop.
Hongjoong only hums in response. He slurps around Seonghwa’s hole in the lewdest of manners, and Seonghwa’s head spins, and the fire in his belly grows.
“Hongjoong. I—I—” Seonghwa grits his teeth when Hongjoong slips in a third finger beside his tongue. “W-wait. Hong—Hongjoong—ah.”
As if sensing his impending orgasm, Hongjoong pulls away but keeps his fingers inside.
“If you cum now, will you still be good?” he asks, slowly pushing his fingers in and out.
“Y-yeah. I’ll be fi—ine. Shit.”
“Good.”
Seonghwa shivers. Hongjoong eats him out like a man starved. He’s enthusiastic, moaning loudly against Seonghwa’s skin, breath hot, fingers crooked just right. The wall is barely enough support to keep Seonghwa upright. He grinds his teeth as Hongjoong’s tongue reaches deeper inside of him, feels his belly coil as he gets closer and closer to release.
“H-Hongjoong.”
Hongjoong pops off and thrusts his fingers all the way up to his knuckles. He presses down roughly against Seonghwa’s prostate, and Seonghwa gasps, hot cum spurting from his tip and onto the wall. His orgasm hits him hard as he stutters through it, Hongjoong stilling his hand and looking up at Seonghwa as if he were a disciple gazing upon his god.
“There we go,” Hongjoong coos. “Hold tight, ‘kay?”
Like Seonghwa could respond, head still spinning as he rides out the last waves of his climax.
He pants hard with his head supported against the wall as Hongjoong ventures off somewhere else, presumably to get lube.
This is crazy, right? He goes to some fancy hotel bar on the outskirts of Seoul to pick up a stranger, maybe rob him of the easiest thing he can get his hands on, and the universe delivers to him Hongjoong of all people, someone who looks easy and green and dangerous and has rose-tinted eyes and the craziest watch casually strapped on his wrist, ripe for the taking, and now Seonghwa’s all but forgotten about said watch until this very moment while waiting for—
“What’re you thinking about?” Hongjoong whispers hotly against his ear, kissing him softly.
Seonghwa shudders. “Nothin—oh!” He hitches when he feels Hongjoong’s cock slip inside of him easily, already slick with lube while Seonghwa was lost in his head.
He hears Hongjoong laugh wryly, saying, “Trick question”, before slamming into him in one rough motion.
As soon as his hips meet his ass, Seonghwa lets out a sharp gasp. He leans his body against the wall and shakes with gross anticipation as Hongjoong’s cock breaks him open.
“So fucking sexy,” Hongjoong groans. “Arch for me a little more.”
Seonghwa moans low and arches his back, rutting his hips against Hongjoong’s pelvis and grinding him deeper inside.
“O-oh fuck. Good boy,” Hongjoong moans. He throws his head back and presses the heel of his palm into the curve of Seonghwa’s back, bending him further, further. “You take me so well, baby boy.”
“H-Hongjoong,” Seonghwa begs. He’s not quite sure what he’s asking for, just knows that he doesn’t want this to end.
When he came upstairs, this was the last thing he expected from someone so small all around. He half expected Hongjoong to be a bottom, and if he wasn’t, then one of those men who get so overwhelmed during sex that it might as well be Seonghwa who’s in charge. Loud, squirrelly, tears in his eyes even though it’s his cock Seonghwa’s taking.
But he’s glad he was wrong.
The pain simmering in his belly roils on Hongjoong’s next thrust, calculated in his angle to find the bundle of nerves that’ll have Seonghwa crying out beneath him. Men don’t usually care about that. Sex feels good enough that Seonghwa always cums, but every once in a while, he’ll fall into a man’s bed who gets off on his pleasure more than just fucking him, and Seonghwa’s thankful that Hongjoong seems to be that way.
He fucks him hard against the wall, hips slamming at precise intervals, as if to an imaginary beat only Hongjoong can hear, while Seonghwa digs his nails into the hotel wallpaper in an effort to ground himself as he slips further and further to the edge. He wishes he could step out of his pants so that he wouldn’t have to worry about tripping, wishes he could take his shirt the rest of the way off before he starts sweating. But he doesn’t want any interruptions between them, not when Hongjoong finally finds what he’s looking for, a broken, high-pitched moan tumbling out of Seonghwa’s throat as his eyes roll back.
“Right there,” he gasps, meeting all of Hongjoong’s thrusts with equal fervor. Hongjoong must take it as a figurative green light, because the pace he sets is brutal.
The sound of their skin slapping and the lube squelching is obscene, and if Seonghwa were even close to being aware of his surroundings, he’d hope that the hotel had good insulation between the walls, because loud moans just fall from his lips, uncontrolled and unfiltered, and they only spur Hongjoong on.
“God, you feel fucking incredible.” Hongjoong throws his head back with a loud groan, slowing down his pace so that Seonghwa can feel the spine-tingling way his cock stretches him open. “Were you planning on going home tonight?”
“I-I—oh, fu-fuck—”
“Words, baby,” Hongjoong coos condescendingly. He angles his hips, and Seonghwa sees stars.
“I-I—”
Hongjoong punches into that sensitive bundle of nerves. Seonghwa grits his teeth. He’s unable to think without being shown any mercy, especially with how slow and precise Hongjoong’s movements are. He can almost hear the smirk on his lips, the cocky motherfucker.
“No,” he manages to gasp out just as Hongjoong’s cock brushes against his prostate. Hongjoong’s grin grows wider, crueler. Even though he can’t see it, Seonghwa still shudders.
“Good,” he sings, voice venomous. He slams in hard, knocking Seonghwa roughly against the wall and making him choke.
He oscillates between fast, harsh thrusts that have Seonghwa moaning loud and digging his nails into the wallpaper, and slow, methodical movements that have his eyes rolling to the back of his head. But through both of them, Hongjoong is pressed right up against him, skin against skin, his lips to his ear whispering soft praises or panting hot or groaning deep. He reaches so far inside him that Seonghwa can feel him in his throat.
Out of all the men he’s been with, this is the last thing he expected from Hongjoong. The man’s almost a head shorter than him, cocky personality compensating for something else, or so Seonghwa thought. As Hongjoong continues his words of affirmation mixed with a healthy dose of degradation, he reaches around to fist Seonghwa’s dick, still working its way to hardness after his last orgasm.
Seonghwa cries out from the sensitivity, knees buckling. “H-Hongjoong,” he whines, unsure if he’s begging him to stop or keep going, the pain borderline addictive. He has tears in his eyes as he slides further down the wall.
Then, just like whiplash, Hongjoong pulls out of him in a hurry and pushes him to his knees. “Suck me off,” he commands, and Seonghwa obeys.
His cheeks are wet as he opens his mouth without protest. Hongjoong slides in easily, but he’s rougher this time around. He doesn’t let Seonghwa take his time, instead fucking into his mouth like his hole, taking control of him right from the get-go. He fists his fingers through his hair and groans loudly as he hits the back of Seonghwa’s throat, then further.
“F-fuck! You’re fucking incredible, you know that?”
Seonghwa whines at the praise, more tears prickling his eyes as Hongjoong gives him some relief with a handful of shallow thrusts. He talks to him almost the entire time, too, all praise and low moans and occasionally burying himself deep down Seonghwa’s throat and letting loose a broken gasp.
In the time that he spends on his hands and knees, his cock begins to twitch in interest again. Seonghwa whines once he’s fully hard, feels more droplets slip down his cheeks. He looks up with his mouth full and his eyes teary, and already Hongjoong’s staring down at him like a starving animal.
“Get up,” he says, slipping out and pulling Seonghwa to his feet. They lose the rest of their clothes as he tugs him over to the bed and kisses him so softly that Seonghwa almost forgets this is a hookup. Something about the attention Hongjoong gives him and the heavy heat in the air makes him brave enough to think that this is more than just a one night stand for the both of them, that there’s something else lingering underneath the ecstasy of it all.
Hongjoong repositions him onto his front and dribbles more lube onto his hole as he lines back up. Seonghwa sucks in a sharp breath, feels the weight of his cockhead pressing up against him, anticipating the stretch that’ll no doubt leave him breathless and lightheaded once again.
“You ready, babe?” Hongjoong clicks his tongue and ruts against him.
“Hurry up.” Seonghwa tries to sound unbothered, but it comes out weak. He can hear the smirk on Hongjoong’s lips.
“Why the rush? We have aaall night,” Hongjoong sings as he sinks in. His fingers dig into Seonghwa’s hips as he presses deeper, deeper, so slow that it’s driving Seonghwa mad. But rather than giving him more lip, he can only choke back his moans as Hongjoong bottoms out. His cock leaks just as their skin meets.
Fuck, his head’s swimming. He’s so hard it’s painful, but Hongjoong isn’t moving. When Seonghwa tries to grind his hips, Hongjoong’s grip on him tightens.
“Say please,” he requests. Seonghwa’s just horny enough not to care anymore.
When he says it, pleads it, Hongjoong’s grin grows two times wider, and he snaps his hips so hard the headboard knocks against the wall as Seonghwa finds purchase on it.
Crazy, he thinks.
“Harder,” he begs. If there’s one thing he’s learned so far, it’s that the both of them are on the same page.
Hongjoong grunts in reply and takes a firmer hold of Seonghwa’s hips. On his next thrust, he brushes against that bundle of nerves that has Seonghwa’s mouth dropping open in a silent moan, makes his body shiver and coax for more. Hongjoong moans, too, when he tightens around him, clawing his fingers so fiercely into his skin that Seonghwa knows he’s going to have little Hongjoong-shaped bruises to remind him of this moment. It makes his head spin just thinking about it.
“God,” Hongjoong groans. He splays himself over Seonghwa’s back, sweat sticking them together. “You’re fucking gorgeous, y’know that? Prettiest boy wherever you go.”
Seonghwa mewls at the compliment as Hongjoong’s hand wraps itself around his throat and he pistons his hips harder, faster, precise in his movements.
“You were made for me. No one else, you hear?” He growls deep into Seonghwa’s ear, tightening his fingers around him. It’s just the sex, Seonghwa tells himself, but the delusional part of his brain wants to believe it, that he’s the only one for Hongjoong. No one else. No one else can have him. No one but Hongjoong.
“Hnngh, yours,” he rasps. He feels like he’s going to black out when he cums.
“All mine.”
Possessive. Seonghwa likes it, likes feeling like he belongs to someone. Hongjoong moans loudly as his hips stutter. He hasn’t finished once since they started, no doubt pent up to the point of breaking. But he works for Seonghwa’s pleasure like it’s his life’s ultimate goal, like he was put on this earth only for Seonghwa, belonging to him like Seonghwa does.
This experience will ruin him for sure. Not only because he’s certain that his legs won’t work afterwards, but just sex in general. The next time he lays with someone, he’s only going to remember the way Hongjoong fucked him and degraded him and claimed him.
Seonghwa reaches up to hold onto Hongjoong’s hand that’s wrapped securely around his throat, not to stop him, but to ground himself in the other man’s burning touch. His dick is leaking a sticky string of precum onto the bedsheets, head an angry red. He wants to cum, needs to, but for some reason, he wants to wait so that they can finish together.
He squeezes Hongjoong’s wrist, and the shorter man loosens his grip on his throat. “A-are you close?” His voice is raspy. He wishes he could see Hongjoong’s face, probably blissed out.
“Yeah.” Hongjoong sounds like he’s reaching his limit too. “Yeah, baby, m’close. Sorry. Wish I could fuck you longer, but—fuck. You feel so fucking good I can’t even think straight.”
Seonghwa hitches a high whine and clenches around him, earning him a hiss and another round of cursing as Hongjoong pounds into him.
“Seonghwa,” he groans, letting go of his throat in favor of jerking him off. “Gonna—gonna cum, shit.” He slams his hips once, twice, and then he’s spilling inside of Seonghwa with a guttural moan. Seonghwa joins him not a moment later, all thoughts dispelled as his eyes roll back and the fire in his belly climbs up his throat, painting the sheets underneath him.
The room spins around them as the sounds of their labored breaths fill the air. They collapse onto the bed in a gasping heap, Hongjoong feeling like dead weight on top of him. Seonghwa’s too hot all over but doesn’t complain, even when it feels like he’s going to pass out from the heat. There’s a ringing in his ears that slowly fizzles out as his orgasm subsides.
It’s Hongjoong who speaks first, still out of breath. “That was crazy,” he says with a little laugh. He pushes up from the bed and sits back on his knees, admiring the sight below him before falling onto the mattress beside Seonghwa with an oof! Seonghwa looks over, still coming down from his high. He watches the way Hongjoong’s chest rises and falls as he catches his breath, ginger hair stuck in a sweaty mess against his face. Hongjoong casts a glance over at him and grins crooked.
“Pretty boy,” he murmurs, sending a wave of heat up Seonghwa’s neck, to his cheeks. He whips his head the other way, embarrassed.
His legs are so sore that he knows he’s going to topple to the floor if he tries to stand, so effectively, he’s stuck in this room with Hongjoong until his body’s in working order. Could be worse. He’s attractive, he just fucked him harder than anyone else in his life, and he’s still complimenting him, though it could be the post-orgasm haze hasn’t left him yet.
This is so strange though. Usually, Seonghwa would leave. He should leave. But there’s something addicting about Hongjoong that makes him yearn for more. They could go another round, and then he’d start seriously thinking about finding a way back home.
While he’s stewing in his head, Hongjoong doesn’t stop staring at him with that sideways smile, endeared. He reaches out and traces a finger along Seonghwa’s shoulder, making him jump.
“Do you want it?” he asks.
Seonghwa’s ears perk, turning back around. “What?”
“You can have it.”
Seonghwa blinks again. Is he offering what he thinks he is?
“What conditions?” Seonghwa asks, trying not to sound opportunistic but also not wanting to sound dismissive.
Hongjoong hums and bobs his head back and forth. “Take a shower with me,” he says at last. Seonghwa makes a face.
“Are you going to get handsy?”
“That depends, do you want the watch?”
Seonghwa sucks the inside of his cheek.
“You’re cocky, you know that?”
“And you’re bold to try and snag a man’s watch right off his wrist.” Hongjoong giggles and rolls on top of him, nips at Seonghwa’s lips and takes his hand. “C’mon. I’ll scratch your back.”
Seonghwa scoffs. “How could I say no to that?” he says with a roll of his eyes.
He lets himself be led to the bathroom because, even if Hongjoong is a little cheesy, he’s sticky all over and could use a hot shower. Plus, this is probably his only chance to experience a penthouse suite. He at least needs to raid the mini bar before leaving.
Hongjoong rests him against the counter while he starts the shower warming. He wets a washcloth and starts cleaning off some of the sweat and dried cum from Seonghwa’s body.
“Sorry it’s a little cold,” he says somewhat sheepishly.
“S’okay. Feels nice.” Seonghwa swears he sees the tips of Hongjoong’s ears turn red. He even sounds a little shyer.
Seonghwa is first to hop into the shower. It’s big enough for two but it still feels intimate once Hongjoong closes the door behind him. Seonghwa hasn’t showered or even bathed with a lot of people, maybe an ex-boyfriend here and there, but definitely not with hookups. This might be a first.
“Want me to wash your hair?” Hongjoong teases.
“I think you’re a little short,” Seonghwa deadpans.
“Rude.” Hongjoong makes a face. “Actually, I don’t think I want to wash your hair anymore,” he grumbles, instead reaching for the soap. He lathers it in his palms while raking his eyes over Seonghwa’s body, takes a step closer.
Seonghwa would normally roll his eyes, but once Hongjoong’s hands are on him, he lets out a soft sigh of relief, feeling his skin prickle with little goosebumps beneath those skilled fingers that pulled him apart only a short time ago.
“Do you go on trips like this often?” he hums as Hongjoong scratches down his back, their chests pressed together.
“Mmh, sometimes. A few times a year?”
“And do you pick up men each time you go down to the hotel bar?”
“Why?” Hongjoong waggles his eyebrows. “Are you jealous?”
Seonghwa huffs. “No.”
“It’s okay if you are. I find it cute.” Hongjoong lets out a gentle laugh. “Actually, can I be honest with you?”
Seonghwa nods.
“You’re the first guy I ever picked up at a bar.”
“What?” That’s a little surprising.
“Yeah. Will you wash my hair while I suck your dick?”
Seonghwa gets whiplash by his sudden question, but he doesn’t have time to reply before Hongjoong is already slipping to his knees. The momentary abruptness he gets barely registers as the other man swallows him down without any more warning.
“O-oh shit.” Seonghwa’s knees buckle, and he leans against the shower glass for support. Hongjoong’s mouth is hot and soft, a little too small to comfortably fit his girth, but that doesn’t deter him in the slightest.
He widens his mouth and takes him all the way down, and then further, and Seonghwa chokes on a moan as Hongjoong’s throat flutters around him. He tangles his fingers in orange hair and pulls taut, Hongjoong groaning and swallowing him down more.
For a moment, Seonghwa forgets that he’s supposed to be washing his hair. He’s too cotton-brained to focus on anything except for the silky tongue that’s been whispering filth into his ears all night smooth up and down his shaft. It’s not until Hongjoong lets out a dissatisfied grunt that he remembers, much to his chagrin.
He blindly feels for the bottles pumps some shampoo into his hand and shudders when Hongjoong hollows his cheeks.
“Hah—y-you know it’s—it’s—fuck—a li-little hard to—”
Hongjoong hums again, low, sending vibrations all the way up Seonghwa’s spine.
What the fuck? Why is he so good at this? His cock, his fingers, his mouth—this is like a game to him, and he’s determined to have the highest score.
But underneath that confident façade, Seonghwa gets the feeling that Hongjoong doesn’t go out much, and doesn’t really sleep around either. So his skills are just natural, which is infuriating in a different aspect.
He whimpers when Hongjoong swallows around him, hands fisting into his wet hair. If Hongjoong’s relying on him to make sure he’s clean, that was the wrong move.
“Hongjoong…” Seonghwa whines. Fuck the shampoo.
Men are supposed to be easy. They’re supposed to be so easy, so what the fuck is wrong with Hongjoong? From the moment he walked up to him at the bar, he’s been a towering presence growing ever taller, no limits in sight. He’s managed to wring out two life-altering orgasms from Seonghwa all while keeping both of their actions carefully orchestrated with the little invisible strings attached to his fingers, and now he’s working on a third like it’s a fucking hobby he just picked up, magically good at.
Seonghwa moans loud and knocks his head against the glass, gripping fistfuls of the hair he’s supposed to be washing. But whereas Hongjoong was playing into the request earlier, now he’s seemed to forgo it entirely.
His cheeks are hollowed as he easily glides up and down Seonghwa’s shaft, lips curled just right, and tongue pressing hard on the underside of his length.
He’s a madman, Seonghwa thinks. A madman that he just might be getting addicted to. Chaotic in the best way possible, and coy like a schoolboy trying to play innocent to get his way.
“Hah, Hongjoong…” Seonghwa rolls his hips shallowly, getting lost in the way the other man’s mouth feels around him, engulfing him. It’s been awhile since anyone’s given him a blowjob. Usually it’s Seonghwa on his knees, his hookups too eager to fuck him to spend any thought on foreplay. But Hongjoong acts like they have all the time in the world. And considering that Seonghwa doesn’t even know what time it is, they might as well have.
Hongjoong pops off his dick with a soft sigh, Seonghwa whining at the loss. “Feel good?” he asks, stroking him in long movements.
“Y-yeah.” He probably won’t cum again. There’s a buzzing in his belly from arousal, but Seonghwa’s pretty sure he’s reached his limit for the night. “I don’t think I’ll finish,” he says.
“But it feels good, hm?” Seonghwa nods. “S’okay then. Just let me know when you want me to stop.” And then Hongjoong’s back on him, swallowing him down in one easy motion. A deep moan rumbles out of Seonghwa’s throat as his knees begin to shake.
He keeps thinking about the way Hongjoong praised him earlier. Pretty boy. Gorgeous. It makes his head spin.
Hongjoong jerks himself off while blowing him, little moans and whimpers making their way out of his mouth. Seonghwa doesn’t know how long he sucks him off for, but after a short time, Hongjoong chokes around him as his whole body stutters, hips kicking as he paints the floor of the shower white. He pops off with a gasp to catch his breath before looking up at Seonghwa and giving him a sideways grin, rising to his feet and kissing him hard until they’re both breathless.
“Pretty boy,” he murmurs against Seonghwa’s lips, nipping them lightly. “You didn’t wash my hair at all.”
Seonghwa scoffs and pushes his face away. “That’s not my fault!”
“Now my hair’s gonna look awful tomorrow. It’s gonna be all greasy.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have been such a brat, then.” Seonghwa rolls his eyes and tries to ignore the fond way Hongjoong’s looking at him. “And you said you’d scratch my back.”
Hongjoong lets out a loud laugh at that. He makes good on his words through the remainder of their shower while Seonghwa finishes washing his hair properly this time. Once they’re done, they towel off and Hongjoong drags him over to the bed, pulling him close as they settle beneath the blankets, cozy.
“Checkout’s at eleven,” he mumbles, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of Seonghwa’s nose. “Let me take you home. I don’t have to be at work until later, anyways.”
Seonghwa really thinks about it. Hongjoong makes it hard to see this as only a hookup, something that’s supposed to be temporary.
“Night,” he whispers quietly.
“Goodnight,” Hongjoong says back.
Two Weeks Later
When he first saw Hongjoong at the bar, the shorter man’s uncharacteristic boldness made him curious about how the night would go when he sat down. Seonghwa still thinks about it all the time. On the subway, when he’s at work, in the privacy of his dreams—he’s always thinking about it.
Even now as he waits by the window looking down at the street does he think about the coy smile Hongjoong gave him when he bought him a drink. There was something so magnetic about him that, when he dropped him off, it was Seonghwa who asked for his number, and Hongjoong happily put his contact into his phone before pecking his lips and driving away.
They’ve texted pretty much nonstop since then. The music company Hongjoong works for is only one stop away from Seonghwa’s apartment, and he’s reluctant to admit that they’ve met for lunch more than once afterwards. But that was all casual. Tonight is official.
It’s their first date, and Seonghwa would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous as hell. And you can’t blame him! It’s his first date in so long that it might as well be his first date ever. Half is closet is on his bed from trying on every outfit that seemed suitable for the occasion, and he even spent an inordinate amount of time doing his hair and makeup just for tonight. Fuck! This is ridiculous. Hongjoong’s a man—a man. What does he have to be nervous about?
As he ruminates, Hongjoong’s white sports car pulls up along the block. He watches him exit. He’s wearing all black again. Seonghwa gulps. His heart races wildly in his chest. The watch on his wrist burns his skin. The moment Hongjoong steps onto the sidewalk, Seonghwa is already out his door and rushing down to the lobby, arriving just as the other man is walking into the building.
Hongjoong gives him a wide smile. “Hi, pretty boy,” he greets. His ginger hair is pushed back by his sunglasses, giving Seonghwa a clear, unadulterated view of his face, and it makes his throat run dry just thinking about the way Hongjoong’s lips looked wrapped around his dick. “You ready?”
All Seonghwa can do is gulp and nod.
Hongjoong opens the car door for him and hurries to the driver’s side, shoots him a wry look as he starts the engine up. He settles one hand on Seonghwa’s thigh and the other on the steering wheel, and drives.