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“Bum, stop fussing! You look cute.” Jisoo scolds, nudging Bum with her shoulder and covering his hand with hers. The skin of her palm is warm and butter-soft. She fits her thin fingers into the spaces between his and closes their hands into a fist, squeezing around the back of his hand. He’d been bouncing his legs, fingers plucking at the fabric of his jeans. He squeezes her back and smiles out across the room, scanning faces in the crowd.
They’re sitting mid-way up the stairs at someone’s house, he doesn’t know whose. From here, they have a good view of the party that spreads through the living room and kitchen, spilling through the sliding glass door out onto the deck and the lawn below.
Music thrums through a set of fancy speakers and the bass buzzes through the soles of Bum’s tennis shoes, making his skin itch. He doesn’t really like loud music, he hates having to speak up. Luckily it’s just him and Jisoo, squashed close enough on the carpeted stairs that he doesn’t have to shout to be heard.
“Sorry,” he says, smiling softly as his eyes flick up to hers before darting back to the cup that sits untouched in his free hand.
“Cheers,” Jisoo says, leaning into his vision and reaching across his lap to bump her solo cup against his. Her chest brushes up against his thigh but he ignores it. Tits don’t really do it for him anymore. He’s not sure if they truly ever did. The liquid from their cups sloshes but doesn’t spill. He can smell the perfume from her neck; soft, feminine, and floral. Plumeria, maybe.
“To?” He asks, turning to face her as she pulls back, cup paused halfway to her mouth.
“Tooooo what?” She asks slowly, smiling as the cup falls just a little.
“I dunno, but aren’t you supposed to cheers to something?”
“Thennnn… cheers to you Bumi!” She says happily, raising her cup once more. “And to hoping you finally get laid tonight!”
Bum takes a sip of his drink and blushes. It’s nothing but red sugar against his tongue, so sweet he can barely taste the alcohol. His eyes swoop across the crowd from over the rim of his cup and it’s then that he sees him come in through the patio door, walking up to the island where the punch bowl sits, some friends fanning out beside him.
“It hasn’t been that long,” he mumbles into his drink.
Jisoo turns back to him and then follows his gaze across the room. “Ah,” she says knowingly. “Well, you sure know how to pick ‘em.”
Even Bum doesn’t miss the sarcasm in her voice.
“What?” He coughs over the taste of fruit punch. “He’s hot.”
“Yeah he’s gorgeous but he’s a fucking asshole, Bum!” Jisoo laughs, nudging him with her shoulder again.
Bum gives her a flat look.
“Alright, alright I get it. Like I should talk…” She rolls her eyes. She’s smiling, but she tugs at the end of her long sleeves with jerky fingers. Bum knows there aren’t any bruises to hide, but his heart still pangs for his friend. Jisoo clears her throat and her smile turns a bit brighter. “Well if you’re going to go after a straight guy, you’re going to have to drink up, babe.”
She emphasizes the point by putting one manicured pointer finger on the bottom of his cup, lifting it until it hits his lips. She keeps pushing until the cup tilts back, leaving her finger there while he swallows a few big mouthfuls.
“Good boy!” She chirps happily.
He lowers the cup when she takes her fingertip away, licking sugar off his top lip.
“Cute,” She hums, warm brown eyes sparkling while she looks at Bum. She reaches up and fingers some hair across his forehead, brushing it out of his eyes. She glances out across the room before looking back to Bum, the flick of her eyes slow and quick at the same time. “Don’t look,” she mumbles, just barely audible above the music, “he’s watching.”
“Yeah, watching you ,” Bum insists, turning his face into his shoulder, eyes down.
“No baby, not me.” She hooks a finger under his chin and lifts his face to hers. She gives him a reassuring smile and then turns his face forward.
His eyes raise slowly, tentatively. He’s afraid that he’s being watched, but even more afraid that he’s not. His heart stutters in his chest. Across the room Sangwoo stares back at him, cup raised to his mouth as dark, unreadable eyes observe him with a dull intensity. Beside him, Donggyu prattles on about something, his voice so loud Bum can hear the tone of it from where he sits, though the words are unintelligible. It’s clear Sangwoo isn’t listening.
Bum swallows, toes curling in his shoes as his right leg starts to bounce under his and Jisoo’s intertwined hands.
“See?” She whispers in his ear, warm breath brushing against his cheek.
Satisfaction rolls through him. The corner of Bum’s lips twitch in a smile. His knee stops bouncing.
Slowly, Sangwoo lowers the cup and it’s hard to tell from here, but Bum swears there’s a smirk pulling at his mouth. His tongue rolls against his bottom lip and it makes Bum’s stomach do a backflip before his view is suddenly cut off by a pink shirt, low cut and stretched tight to show off manufactured cleavage.
Jisoo makes an annoyed noise in the back of her throat. He blinks and lifts his eyes, looking up into the painfully beautiful face in front of him. His stomach drops, confidence evaporating.
“Hey, Jieun,” Jisoo says, voice devoid of any warmth.
“Jisoo,” the other responds casually, flipping long, chocolate hair over her shoulder and shifting her weight over one hip, popping it to the side. Her eyes narrow slightly as she sucks on her cheeks, brightly colored fingernails tapping the side of her solo cup as her face splits into a wide, condescending smile. Bum focuses on the freckle underneath her right eye rather than meet her gaze. “What are you guys up to? It’s a little creepy, you two just sitting up here staring at everyone.”
“We’re hanging out, having a drink. Just like everyone else.” Jisoo responds, a coolness in her tone that makes Bum want to cringe and apologize, even though he knows that it’s stupid.
Jieun ignores her, turning over her shoulder to look across the room. When she turns back, there’s a nasty kind of smile on her face.
“Saw you checking out Sangwoo. Do you want to fuck him?”
Bum feels his eyes widen, but Jieun isn’t looking at him. Of course not. She’s looking at Jisoo, sneering as she lifts her drink to her lips. They stare at each other for a moment before Jieun snorts, licking her lips and flipping her hair again before sitting herself down onto the stair beneath them. She leans her back against the wall, slim legs spread out in front of her and the toes of her boots tapping against the wall. Her skirt is short enough that Bum can see right up it; when he realizes he looks away, eyes darting down to the cup in his hand. Jieun laughs, fingernails rapping on plastic again.
He brings the cup to his lips and forces himself to swallow without looking at her.
“Well,” Jieun says, voice barbed, “If you are, I should warn you. Apparently, he can’t keep it up for most girls.”
“Well, you would know, right?” Jisoo asks, eyes glinting with steel.
“Oh, no, of course not. Those are only rumors! That hasn’t been my experience.”
“Of course not,” Jisoo says, airy and light. Again her eyes don’t match her voice and it makes Bum a little nervous. He doesn’t get how to play this game. He hates conflict. When Jisoo speaks again it’s with the same tone.
“I didn’t know you guys were exclusive. Who’s starting all those rumors?”
Jieun smiles but it doesn’t hide the anger from her eyes. “No, we’re not like that, it’s just casual. I mean you’re welcome to my sloppy seconds, but there’s a reason he always crawls back to me.”
Bum chokes on his drink. He manages to swallow it down, but has to cough into his fist, the smell of punch and soju burning his nose. Jisoo pats him on the back unhelpfully.
“S-sorry,” he stutters, face warm and eyes watering.
Jieun finally turns to look at him. She’s wearing an exaggerated pout on her lips, using a mockingly cute voice when she says, “Awe, the little rabbit is drinking tonight? That’s rare. What’s the occasion, Bunny? Looking to get laid?” She raises her cup and takes a sip, eyes laughing and trained on Bum. She’s mocking him.
“Jesus, Jieun,” comes a low voice, “Is that really any of your business? Since when did you get so nosy… Unless you're asking because you want to volunteer?”
Three heads snap down to where Sangwoo stands, foot up on the edge of the second stair, holding onto the railing with one hand, the palm of his other hand pressed flat to the wall. He takes up the whole space both physically and with his presence. It makes Bum a little dizzy.
“Sangwoo!” Jieun calls, hopping to her feet and bouncing down the last few steps, throwing an arm around his neck. One of his arms curls around her waist and the other still clutches the banister. She looks so small in his arms, easily fitting against the length of his forearm. Even standing on her tip-toes one step up, she’s only barely taller than him.
Jieun is small, but Bum is smaller. He wonders what he would look like in Sangwoo’s arms like that. How small and delicate he’d seem. How safe and warm and special he might feel.
“You drunk, Jieun? Someone should cut you off,” Sangwoo teases, straightening up and pushing her back slightly. He reaches for the cup in her hand, taking it despite her protests. She tries to swipe it back, but he holds her away with a hand on her head, ruffling her hair playfully.
“Ah, ah, I know you don’t like to share Jieun, but I’m doing you a favor.”
She acts put out, crossing her arms and pouting cutely, but her eyes are trained on Sangwoo, watching as he takes a deep sip from her cup. His own eyes bore into hers as he swallows. He’s flirting. Even Bum can see that.
“Good girl Jieun, you share so well,” He smiles, patting her head affectionately until she shoves him off. She lunges for the cup again, this time coming away with it.
Bum doesn’t realize he’s on his feet until Sangwoo looks up at him, eyes dark and unreadable, his mouth curled into a smile. He wore his hair down over his forehead tonight, perfectly and stylishly unkempt. He looks devastating in a black turtleneck, bomber jacket, dark jeans, and boots. To stop from openly starting, Bum looks down at his cup and notices it’s empty.
“I think I need a drink.” His voice is loud even to his ears. Jisoo stands next to him and Bum grabs the banister with a light touch, making his way carefully down the stairs.
Sangwoo pushes himself off the railing and steps to the side, placing a hand on Jieun’s hips to guide her out of the way. From the corner of his eye, Bum sees her press herself into the wall, curling into Sangwoo’s chest as her eyes bore into the side of his head.
“Come on, I want to show you something,” Jieun says loudly to Sangwoo as Bum passes by them. She grabs the hand he has on her waist, and tugs, pulling him further up the stairs.
On his way up, Sangwoo bumps gently into Bum, his bicep brushing against Bum’s shoulder.
“Have fun,” Jisoo says unkindly, laying her hand flat between Bum’s shoulder blades and guiding him forward.
At the bottom of the staircase, he pauses, turning around to watch as Sangwoo is dragged up to the second floor. On the landing, he turns around. Their eyes lock and there’s a suspended moment where they just stare at one another before Sangwoo smirks, giving Bum a wink before he allows himself to be led down the hall.
“Sorry Bumi,” Jisoo says softly behind him, squeezing his shoulder. “Maybe you could pick someone easier this time?”
He didn’t have the guts to say that it could only be Sangwoo.
– - – - –
Bum is on the couch nursing his second cup of punch when Sangwoo appears back at the top of the stairs. From his corner seat, squashed beside Jisoo and sinking into overly plush cushions, he tracks Sangwoo as subtly as he can, but he’s staring, he knows he is. As if Sangwoo can feel when Bum’s eyes are on him, he glances over now and then to catch Bum in the act. He’ll give an amused snort, eyes hard, before turning back to his friends.
He’s laughing at a joke some soccer player says when he looks across the room, meeting Bum’s eyes full-on. It’s easy for him to pretend that Sangwoo is smiling at him .
Bum looks away first, cheeks flushing with heat. When he glances back at Sangwoo he’s still staring. Though the smile has fallen from his lips, it still hangs around the corner of his eyes, haughty and arrogant.
Movement from the left draws Bum’s attention and he watches Jieun coming down the stairs. Maybe it’s his imagination, but she looks a little less pretty than she did before; her makeup has started to run under her eyes, and her hair seems a little less perfect.
Bum’s eyes flick back to Sangwoo. He’s stopped looking at Bum in favor of watching her. The two of them share a look and Bum turns away before he can read what’s on their faces. A sharp pain radiates through his chest and he rubs absently at his sternum, the friction against the cotton of his sweater warms his fingertips. He’s trying not to think about how badly he wants to go home when a shadow stretches over him.
“Hey Bum,” Sangwoo says, plopping down onto the arm of the couch so that his hip presses into Bum’s shoulder. “What are you nursing over here, juice?” He jokes, reaching and grabbing Bum’s cup from where it sits in his lap.
“Are you even old enough to drink, hyung ?”
Bum turns his head and looks up at Sangwoo. He’s smiling down at him, wolfish and charming, and Bum has to swallow hard over a pathetic, needy whine. He sees Jieun move over to a group of girls nearby, her eyes fixed on Sangwoo. He doesn't seem to notice her staring.
“What are you Bum, like 48 kilos? I bet I could bench you with one arm!” He lifts the cup to his lips but stops short to say, “You should slow down there. You’re so small I bet you can’t handle your alcohol, right? Bet you’re a lightweight who gets too drunk too quick. Don’t make someone have to look after you.”
Someone laughs, high and mean. He’s sure it's Jieun, by the chorus of giggles that follow.
Sangwoo’s mouth finally touches down on the lip of his cup and he takes a deep sip, eyes cutting through Bum like a knife.
He’s flirting , Bum realizes, with me!
It doesn’t matter who is laughing or why, because Sangwoo is flirting with him just like he’d flirted with her . Bum’s reality seems to refocus, the rest of the room falling away as he smiles up at Sangwoo and watches as his lips, still wrapped around the rim of Bum’s cup, twitch.
“Sangwooooo,” Jieun slurs, stumbling over to them and breaking the spell. She sounds drunk and it’s obvious that she’s unhappy. She moves like she’s going to hop into Sangwoo’s lap but at the last moment her foot catches and she’s pitching forward.
“Shit Ji—!”
Sangwoo manages to move his cup out of the way but it doesn’t matter. Jieun stumbles into him, falling half in his lap, the drink in her hand tipping and drenching the front of Bum’s sweater and his lap. The drink is cool, quickly seeping through his clothes to sting at his skin. He winces at the sensation but otherwise stays silent.
Next to him Jisoo shouts and jumps to her feet, moving out of the danger zone.
“Jesus fucking—Jieun are you joking?” Sangwoo bites, using one arm to help steady her.
“Oh, sorry Bum,” She says, eyes hard and smile sharp. Her face hangs close to his, hair long enough to brush against his arm. Her breath might smell like fruit punch and mint, but she suddenly doesn’t look half as drunk as she did before.
“Shit, Bum, are you alright?” Jisoo asks, her voice filled with concern.
And Bum gets it. He’s glad she’s concerned. Jisoo is a good friend. But part of him can’t help but feel a little proud. Delighted that he wasn’t the only one who saw the way Sangwoo looked at him—the way he had flirted with him. Bum’s cheeks flush and he laughs lightly to himself, hands twisting in his lap, brushing against the soaked denim.
“Bumi?” Jisoo asks, bending forward to put a hand on his shoulder.
He looks up at her worried face to assure her it’s fine, he’s okay—happy, even—but it’s then that he registers all the eyes on him. All around him, people are looking and laughing; their faces are filled with pity and contempt, eyes wide and vicious. They’re all looking at him and it makes his stomach twist painfully. His chest grows tight and the fidgeting of his hands gets worse, grip tensing until it hurts.
He stands, ice falling from where it’s collected in the folds of his clothing and a few more people snicker.
“Bum—”
“S-sorry…”
“Bum, what are you apologizing for?” It’s Jisoo who asks.
“Sorry, I’ll um… excuse me…” he mumbles, rushing off towards the hall with hurried steps.
Eyes prick at the skin of his back making him recoil, shoulders hunched. It feels like the whole party is watching him flee to the bathroom. It makes him move quicker, more rushed. His hands start to shake when he pulls at the handle for the door and whoever is inside shouts at him to wait. But the air is starting to get thin and Bum can feel his eyes sting with unshed tears; the last thing he wants is to let anyone see him cry. He’s terrified and embarrassed and it makes his skin itch with nervous sweat.
He keeps his eyes glued to the floor as he makes his way back into the main room and up the stairs, gripping the banister so he doesn’t trip and fall. The hum of the party clashes with the loud music and somehow all Bum can hear is laughter. They’re all laughing at him. He tries to move faster but the toe of his sneaker catches the edge of the stair and he pitches forward, just barely able to stop himself with his hold on the railing. He wants to cover his ears but he knows how weird it will look, so he just tries to move faster instead. If he can just get somewhere quiet… somewhere where he can be alone…
He rushes across the landing and lunges at the first door he finds, but it’s locked too. The second door he tries is a bedroom but people are in there. There’s a girl on her knees, head bobbing in Donggyu’s lap. His chin is tilted back just slightly, eyes slitted and lazy. His glazed eyes don’t even widen as he registers bum. He snorts, derisive, smirking when he speaks to Bum.
“Get the fuck out, Bum. Jesus.”
His sorry gets eaten up by the sound of the door snapping closed.
The next door is a linen closet and the fourth is locked. His chest heaves with desperation and he’s afraid he's going to have to curl up in a ball right here on the hallway floor where anyone could see him when finally the last door on the left gives and he stumbles into a dark, quiet room.
He closes the door behind him and the noise of the party is instantly muted. He leans against the wood, barely controlling his fall as he slides down to the floor. He hugs his thighs to his chest, tucking his forehead to his knees, and tries to steady his breath, fingers digging into his calves. He tries to count in, hold, and breathe out, counting out the seconds the way Dr. Kim told him to. After some time it starts to work, the knot in his chest loosening, though not coming completely untangled.
When he can breathe easier, he wipes his cheeks on his jeans and straightens out his legs, getting slowly off the ground in the dark. He feels along the wall with trembling hands until his fingers find and flip the light switch. He instantly realizes why it was left empty.
The room is pink from floor to ceiling with white only on the baseboards. There’s a small bed covered with a floral comforter and white frilly pillows are buried behind a big stack of plushies, all stacked together so that it’s impossible to distinguish all of them. Bum can see a white bear, a lavender unicorn, a tan teddy bear, and a small green frog; a few strange little creatures don’t look like animals at all. Faerie lights glow on the wall behind the bed and to his right, there's a bookshelf overflowing with kids' titles and more stuffed animals. Beside it, plugged into the socket low on the wall, is a night light shaped like a snowflake.
It’s a little girl’s room.
There’s a door in the far corner and it leads Bum into a small, en suite bathroom. He turns on the light and grabs a hand towel from a rack on the wall, wetting it in the sink, and using it to dab at the stain on his sweater. Luckily both his jeans and his sweater are dark enough, but he still hopes it won't leave a lasting stain. He’s not too keen on smelling like alcohol and fruit punch either.
He rubs at this shirt absently, still working through his breathing exercises to help calm himself down. In the small bathroom, far away from judging eyes, amidst white towels, fruity hand soap, and a pink toothbrush sitting in a little, iridescent white cup, Bum begins to restabilize.
He drapes the towel over the edge of the sink and lays his hands flat on the counter, leaning in close to the mirror to get a good look at himself. His face is pale and glistening and he wipes away some of the cool sweat with his sleeves. His hair is still styled from earlier, parted just slightly off center and blowdried for some volume. Jisoo had helped him do it. He smiles fondly and pinches his cheeks to bring some color back into his face. He thinks he looks a little nicer with a blush.
Without having to worry about all those eyes, Bum’s mind goes back to where he’d been sitting on that couch, looking up at Sangwoo smiling down at him. He had flirted with Bum, and it’d been obvious enough that—
Bum is giggling to himself when he hears the door creek open.
“Bum?”
Bum sucks in a breath and his stomach explodes into a flurry of butterflies at the sound of Sangwoo’s voice. He wipes his sweating palms on the front of his jeans, too excited to notice how wet they still are, before stepping out of the bathroom.
“H-hi.”
“I knew I’d find you in here,” Sangwoo says, closing the door behind him and flipping the lock.
“You were looking for me?”
Sangwoo doesn’t answer, but pokes his cheek with his tongue, eyes narrowing slightly.
“How bad is it?” He asks instead, crossing the room and getting close enough that Bum imagines he can feel Sangwoo’s warmth radiate across the distance and through his damp clothes, straight into his cold skin.
“N-not too bad.”
“Don’t lie, Bum. Jieun is such a bitch,” Sangwoo says, rolling his eyes. “I hate girls like that.” He reaches out and touches the bottom of Bum’s sweater, pinching some of the wet fabric between his fingers.
“Then why do you give her attention?” Bum asks, looking up at him.
“Because she’s hot,” Sangwoo says with a shrug, dropping his hand. “You should take that off, you’re going to catch a cold.”
“I’m okay, it’s fine, really….” Bum says, hugging himself.
“I said take it off, Bum.”
“But, but I’m fine!”
Sangwoo steps in closer and Bum takes a step back out of habit, knocking his shoulder into the bookshelf. “What are you doing here?” he asks, looking up at Sangwoo and trying not to shiver.
“Oh you know,” He drawls, looking down and to the side as if he were considering something. But his eyes snap up to Bum’s before he speaks again.
“Guess I just wanted an excuse to do this,” Sangwoo says, stepping towards Bum and grabbing the hem of his sweater. He tugs at it a little roughly, pulling it up over Bum’s head and his raised arms.
He pauses for a moment to watch Bum’s expression before brushing past him and into the bathroom. Bum follows him, hands twisting nervously in front of his pants, and watches Sangwoo drape his wet sweater over the towel rack so it can dry. The gesture makes Bum’s chest warm.
When he’s done, Sangwoo turns his face to Bum and looks him up and down, eyes lingering on his stomach and the jut of his hip bones. Bum drops his hands and presses the inside of his arms to his sides, hiding them out of habit. Sangwoo doesn’t seem to notice.
The silence drags on, and Sangwoo just stares at Bum. He never really looks at Bum’s face, his eyes drifting around to linger on his thighs and his hips, even his chest. Eventually, he crosses the bathroom and forces Bum to step back into the bedroom, back and back until the back of one knee catches the mattress. Bum stumbles, thinking he might fall, but Sangwoo grabs him by the arm, easily helping to keep him on his feet. They’re close enough that Bum’s sure Sangwoo can hear him swallow so he tries not to.
Sangwoo’s hand drops from his arm, fingers catching inside the waistband of his jeans. He drags them slowly along the inside of the fabric and then with two hands he works the button open, the fabric giving a light pop as it gives. The zipper sighs and then Bum’s jeans are being pulled roughly down his thighs. They catch on his underwear and Bum’s fingers fly to the elastic band to keep them in place as he steps for the denim pooling around his skinny ankles. Sangwoo takes his jeans into the bathroom and presumably hangs them up as well. Bum doesn’t follow him this time, instinctively understanding Sangwoo wants him to stand still.
“Turn around,” Sangwoo says, voice low, as he comes out of the bathroom. He walks across the room, leaning his back against the bookshelf and crossing his arms over his chest.
Bum obeys, turning to face the mattress, his back to Sangwoo. His eyes drift up the bed and he stares at the stuffed animals. He counts them to try and distract himself.
“You look good tonight, Bum,” Sangwoo says lightly.
“I-I do?”
“Yeah, those jeans make your ass look good.”
“R-really?”
“Yeah, now bend forward. Put your hands flat on the mattress. Don’t talk.”
Bum shivers a little and then obeys, repositioning himself so he’s centered at the foot of the bed and then leans forward, laying his palms on the bedspread, a dainty pink floral pattern with white ruffles sewn into the edges. Bum hears the flutter of clothes, the hiss of a zipper, the drag of fabric against skin. Then, there’s a long moment of silence before the nearly imperceptible sound of skin dragging on skin. Sangwoo moans quietly, nearly inaudible. He’s masturbating behind Bum, jerking off while looking at him . He wants to turn around so badly.
“Fuck you have such a hot ass,” Sangwoo hisses out.
Bum quivers at the words.
“You have legs just like a girl… so skinny...”
Bum sucks in a breath.
“But fuck you’ve got the best ass out of any girl I’ve fucked around with.”
“I’m not a girl.” Bum says suddenly, turning his face just slightly before he thinks better of it.
“Eyes forward,” Sangwoo says sharply. Bum locks eyes with the little frog plush and stares at it, hard. There’s a beat of silence, the sound of his hand picking up speed, and then a sigh. “But you’re my bitch, right Bum? I’m not gay, but you’re my bitch.”
Bum doesn’t say anything, his legs are starting to get tired from the position he’s in and he shifts around, looking for some relief.
“Put your feet together,” Sangwoo orders, low and casual. Like he’s bored. It sends a thrill of shame up Bum’s spine.
He obeys, wordlessly. The only noise in the room is the quiet shlick of Sangwoo’s hand running over his dick. Sangwoo moans and the sound of his hand picks up, moving faster, sounding wetter. Bum gasps in return, feeling a single lick of heat climb his gut. He’s hard and he hasn’t even touched himself. It’s pathetic actually. He’s so pathe—
Fingertips dig into Bum’s hips and he cries out at the sudden contact. Sangwoo shoves his dick between the gap at the top of his thighs, roughly pushing against his balls and pulling at the skin at the inside of his legs.
“God this sucks dry,” Sangwoo mumbles.
He thrusts a few more times, fingers flexing absently into Bum’s hipbone. Without warning, he hooks a thumb into the bottom of Bum’s underwear, yanking the fabric up only to bring his hand down firmly onto the exposed skin. Bum’s back arches, belly pulled towards the mattress as he yelps.
“Oh, that was kinda hot,” Sangwoo says, still sounding uninterested. He does it again and Bum whimpers, biting down on his lower lip. It stings, but it’s not too bad. He’s had worse.
Sangwoo’s hand comes down on him for a third time, and this time he doesn’t make a sound at all.
“I like it better when you cry.”
“I-I can do it again?”
Thwack . Bum gasps out, forgetting to make noise. He grits his jaw and stares at the stuffed animals, this time focusing on the little dog. Bum makes sure to get it right on the next one, yelping pathetically when Sangwoo’s palm comes down on his bare ass. His hand is big enough that fingertips curl down to crack against the top of Bum’s thigh and it aches more than stings. But Bum feels the way Sangwoo twitches hard between his thighs and he smiles across the bed at their little audience. He tucks his face in his shoulder, hiding his expression in the hollow of his clavicle.
Bum cries out, five… seven… twelve more times; tears stream steadily down his cheeks before Sangwoo stops. When it’s over his ears ring in the silence and his ass stings so sharply that Bum swears he’d burn Sangwoo’s hand if he were to touch him again. He knows his skin must be stained a bright red; he’s taken so many hits he’s sure he won’t even be able to see a distinct handprint anymore. That’s okay, maybe another time.
Sangwoo is rock hard, cushioned in the gap at the top of Bum’s thighs and pressing against his small, tight balls. He’s too nervous to speak and Sangwoo doesn’t say anything either, doesn’t do anything but pant into the quiet room, trying to catch his breath. His spare hand is still loosely holding the bone of Bum’s hip. Bum takes a chance and twists slightly, lifting his eyes to look over his shoulder.
Sangwoo seems to tower over him, eyes shadowed and dark. It exaggerates the bags under his eyes, the hook of his nose, and the swell of his bottom lip. His chest rises and falls with deep breaths, lidded eyes looking down on him with a terrifying glint. Something about it doesn’t feel quite sane, quite human.
Bum’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, his eyes dropping down Sangwoo’s body. The curve of his chest, the cuts of his abdomen, the veins that run alongside the inside of his hips, down his pelvis where the rest of him disappears behind Bum. His backside throbs with each thump of his heart and he arches to take a look. The area is just as red as he thought it would be, bright enough it nearly glows neon against the rest of his milky skin.
Bum’s eyes crawl back up to Sangwoo’s face. His expression has changed somewhat, head tilted ever so slightly to the side. His eyes are still dark and intimidating, but now the corner of his mouth twitches in and out of a grin.
“Don’t look at me like that Bum. You’ll make me do something you’ll regret.”
“I won’t regret it.” He says, rushed and eager.
Sangwoo’s head dips further to the side, both corners of his mouth lifting into a handsome smile.
“But you don’t even know what it is yet?”
Sangwoo bends forward, draping himself over Bum’s back, lining up their shoulders and placing his hands atop Bum’s on the mattress. They’re so large that they cover his completely.
“How can you say you won’t regret it if you don’t even know what it is?” He sing-songs into his ear. “I could hurt you Bumi. I could take you home and tie you up and nobody would ever know, right? I could break your legs. I could make you into a girl. I could make you mine. I could even kill you.” He speaks the last words while nosing at the shell of Bum’s ear, ruffling into his hair before his teeth sink into the cartilage hard enough to make Bum wince.
“I won’t.”
“You won’t?”
“No, I wouldn’t regret anything you do for me.”
“Not even if I strung you up and fucked you like a chick?”
“N–n…” Bum’s tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth.
“Too bad you’re not a girl, Bum. Too bad I can’t stick it in right here.”
“I—I could make it wet for you…” Bum offers, pleading.
Sangwoo freezes, his lips pressed to the little patch of skin right behind Bum’s ear. Despite the heat radiating into Bum’s back, goosebumps travel up his arms and across the back of his neck. “Sangwoo, I could… I could suck your dick. I’m good at it. Really good.”
“I’ve already told you, I’m not gay.”
“I know, but it doesn’t have to be like that.” Bum insists, fingers curling into fists beneath Sangwoo’s palms. He speaks the next words to the mattress, too embarrassed to look at the toys.
“I’d j-just be sucking your dick. A mouth is a mouth, right? Doesn’t matter if I’m a guy, they all feel the same right? I’ll make it good for you, I promise.”
“How many dicks have you sucked, Bum?” There’s an edge to Sangwoo’s voice that makes his blood sing. It sounds like jealousy. It sounds like possessiveness. It sounds like insecurity. It makes Bum happy.
“Not a lot. Just a few. Mostly the same one over and over.”
“Just a few? Are you a whore, Bum? Going around offering to suck straight guys' dicks? Trying to turn us gay?”
“No…”
“No, what? No, you’re not trying to make me gay?”
“No, I don’t go around offering.”
“So I’m the first?”
Bum tucks his chin and smiles, “Yeah, you’re the first.”
“Then show me what you got, Bum.” Sangwoo purrs into his ear, putting a hand on Bum’s hip and pushing him so that he falls onto the bed.
Bum rights himself, sitting up with his feet on the floor, and comes face to face with Sangwoo’s cock. It’s cut, thick, and a decent length; he wants it so bad that he doesn’t spend the time to think about how unfair that is. Bum’s own small dick kicks between his legs and he reaches his hands out, but Sangwoo catches him short by the wrists.
“Ah, ah, don’t be so greedy. I wanna see something first,” He scolds, tossing his head to the side to flick hair out of his eyes.
He keeps hold of Bum’s wrists in one hand, grip tight. The thought of being broken into pieces by Sangwoo makes him shiver with want. But Bum is pulled from his fuzzy thoughts when Sangwoo presses a thumb into Bum’s mouth, roughly forcing his jaw open. He switches fingers, shoving his index and middle fingers deep enough to make him gag.
“You’ve got a small mouth, Bum…how can this even be of any use? You sure I’m gonna fit?”
Bum waits until the fingers are pulled from his mouth to answer. “Ye-yeah.”
“You’re not going to choke on it?”
Bum shakes his head.
“You better not. Have you ever taken someone this big?” Sangwoo asks, his smile cocky as he runs his hand up and down his length for good measure.
“N-no,” He says honestly.
Sangwoo takes his hand off his dick, pushing three fingers back into Bum’s mouth. This time he takes a deep breath to stop himself from heaving.
Sangwoo pumps his fingers a few times, pressing on Bum’s tongue and shoving them back to the knuckle, but he doesn’t gag again. When he’s satisfied, Sangwoo pulls his hand out, wiping the spit onto Bum’s naked shoulder.
“Alright then, go ahead.”
Bum considers for a moment, thinking about what Sangwoo might like, and then he smiles a little, mostly to himself. The bed is low and Sangwoo is tall. They’re lucky for the good angle. He tugs one of his wrists free and reaches out a hand, wrapping it around the base of Sangwoo’s cock, holding it steady as he scoots forward on the bed. He takes a deep breath in and then leans in.
…There’s a reason he always crawls back to me.
Bum’s stomach flutters in satisfaction as the seam of his lips ghost at the tip of Sangwoo’s cock.
Jieun is a liar.
Sangwoo hasn’t fucked her in months. Bum knows because Sangwoo spends most nights with him.
The funny thing is, they’ve done this so many times and every time Bum acts like it’s the first time because that’s what Sangwoo wants. It’s one of the fun little games they play. Sangwoo likes to pretend that he doesn’t have his dick down Bum’s throat three times a week. Likes to ignore the fact that he’s the one who always calls. Likes to assert that he doesn’t like men even as he’s moaning and cursing and coming undone all because of Bum’s mouth. Bum is happy to play along if it means this is his. If it means he gets to suck and stare and eat up all the noises that tumble from Sangwoos lust-addled brain. If it means he gets to curl up on the futon next to him and sleep safely, tucked in next to Mr. Popular, the guy all the girls want to fuck them.
Bum pushes away a smile by letting his tongue loll out. Sangwoo drops his other wrist and Bum lets it fall into his lap, the heel of his palm flexing into the tops of his thigh. He looks up at Sangwoo as his tip touches down on the flat of his tongue, staring into onyx eyes that watch him back—void and endless, like an abyss. Eyes so shadowed beneath a mop of ashy blonde hair, they might as well not be there at all; like empty sockets.
Bum’s hand tightens reflexively on Sangwoos dick at the same time he pulls back.
“Did you fuck her?”
“Who?”
And that’s probably a good enough indicator that he didn’t, but Bum plays dumb anyway.
“Jieun.”
“Tonight? No.”
“You know I’ll know the truth once I taste you.”
Sangwoo smiles almost benevolently, “Then stop talking about it and do it already, Bum.”
Finally, Bum leans forward and wraps his lips around Sangwoo, sinking slowly down onto his cock until he has to move his hand out of the way. He presses until his throat constricts, threatening to spasm and make him gag. While he still can, he takes a deep breath through his nose. He sinks down until there’s nothing left of Sangwoo for him to swallow, dark curls tickling his lips and nose.
He tastes only like sweat and pre; salty and a little bitter. If Bum could smile, he would.
Sangwoo’s hands twitch at his sides and a noise halfway between a moan and a laugh crawls up from his gut. He fills up Bum’s throat, making it impossible to breathe, but that’s alright, it’s long since stopped making him panic. Bum’s learned that he can hold his breath for a long time.
He starts small, just short movements back and forth, allowing Sangwoo to dip in and out of his throat. But after he gets used to the feeling he starts to have a little fun, pulling back to catch his breath and mouth playfully at the tip. Sangwoo likes when he uses little kitten licks at his slit, groaning while Bum licks up beads of precum as they form before sinking back down to the hilt.
Eventually Sangwoo loses some of his cool, putting his foot up on the mattress and grabbing Bum by the back of the head. Bum’s neck and jaw go slack, his hands coming to rest on the front of Sangwoo’s thighs on reflex, but Bum doesn’t stop him. He probably never will. He’d rather the discomfort if it meant Sangwoo was getting off using him. He lets Sangwoo hold his head while he fucks his face doing his best to breathe when he can.
“You feel so good,” Sangwoo moans into the room. His eyes are closed, jaw unhinged just slightly. Bum worries he’s not actually talking to him, that instead he’s talking to whoever exists inside his head. But it doesn’t matter much to Bum as long as Sangwoo keeps coming back.
Bum's fingers flex into Sangwoo’s thighs but they barely sink into the skin. No piece of Sangwoo is soft, every inch of him tough and unforgiving. But sometimes, when they’re like this, he slips up. His eyes open, and they stare at each other.
Sangwoo’s hips stutter to a stop.
“Am I hurting you, Bum?” Sangwoo asks, voice worried. Before Bum can answer, Sangwoo continues, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just got carried away.”
Bum pulls back and Sangwoo’s hands fall to hang limply at his sides. He looks away from Bum, eyes cast down and to the side.
“That’s okay, you didn’t hurt me,” Bum insists, tone as soft as he can manage. He places a small hand flat on the inside of Sangwoo’s hip, his thumb gently stroking the warm skin.
“Really?” Sangwoo asks, eyes lighting up as they snap back to Bum’s face.
“Really, I swear,” Bum promises, tilting his head back to smile up at Sangwoo. “Here, why don’t you lay down and let me take care of you?”
“Okay, yeah okay.”
Bum tugs at Sangwoo’s hand with two of his own, helping him lay down on the bed, clearing away the stuffed animals and making sure one of the pillows, white and frilly, fits comfortably behind his head. He kisses his way down Sangwoo’s chest, over the ridges of his stomach, past where his lingering summer tan fades away. Sangwoo squirms a little under his ministrations, but he doesn’t say anything, his eyes trained up on the ceiling as his hands twitch restlessly on the sheets.
“Look at me, Sangwoo.”
Sangwoo’s head lifts off the pillow and he watches as Bum takes him in his mouth again.
He watches for a decent amount of time, a pretty blush creeping onto the high planes of his cheeks, before his head falls back on the pillow. His hands fist the blanket and his hips buck, ever so slightly. Bum can tell he’s working hard to keep in those reedy little wines Bum wants to hear so badly.
Bum sucks down Sangwoo over and over while his hand drifts between his own legs, down the front of his underwear so he can touch himself for some relief. His fingers slip further back and tug and Bum groans before he can stop himself. Suddenly he feels so empty.
Sangwoo’s hand tangles in the hair at the crown of his head, tugging once before it slips away to land on Bum’s shoulder, thumb pressing into the space just under his clavicle. Bum lifts his eyes and is surprised to see that Sangwoo is watching him again.
“B-bum. You look really pretty like that.”
Bum pulls away and sits back on his heels.
“I do?”
Sangwoo follows him, sitting up and wrapping his hands around Bum’s waist. He stares at them for a beat, enamored, before he looks up into Bum’s face.
“Yeah. You have pretty eyes, such long lashes. Your tits are cute too.”
“My tits—?” But Bum’s confused response is cut off when Sangwoo surges forward, pressing his cheek to the center of his chest.
“The big ones are fun to play with, but they’re so distracting… yours are nice…” he trails off, nosing his way over to one of Bum’s nipples and pulling it into his mouth. Bum gasps quietly in response. “Girls love when you suck on their tits.”
Do they? It doesn’t really feel like that much to Bum, but just being touched is nice; just having Sangwoo’s mouth on him, hot and soft is enough to make Bum want to beg for more, arms wrapping around Sangwoo’s shoulders to hold him close.
It figures when Bum starts getting used to the sensation Sangwoo grows bored, biting deep into the skin around one nipple and forcing a cry from Bum before nibbling his way up to his neck, pausing with his nose to the base of Bum’s throat. He doesn’t say anything for a long moment and then he pulls back, sitting up with a straight back. So that they’re nearly eye-to-eye.
“You’re really cute. You know that, Bum?”
“Cuter than Jieun?”
“No,” Sangwoo says plainly. “But I like you better anyway.”
“Why?” Bum asks, feeling both stung and smug.
“You don’t just want me,” Sangwoo says, leaning back onto his hands with a cocky smile. His eyes rake over Bum, starting from the hands pressed into his thighs, the slight bulge between his legs, up his ribs to his skinny neck, and finally up to his sharp, little face. “You need me.”
Bum nods, crawling into Sangwoo’s space and placing his small hands beside his larger ones on top of the covers. He takes a minute to admire how good they look before turning back to Sangwoo, meeting his eyes briefly before dropping his gaze to Sangwoo’s mouth. Bum licks his lips, hungry, and whispers, “I do, I need you.”
He breathes in once before pressing in until their lips connect.
They’ve kissed a few times, but only when Sangwoo initiated it, rough and demanding. This time it’s at Bum’s pace: sloppy and desperate and needy. Every time Sangwoo tries to take control, Bum slows him down by pulling back, forcing Sangwoo to chase him
They kiss until Bum is pressed so tightly to Sangwoo that he has to lie down. Bum follows quickly, draping himself over Sangwoo. He licks his hand, slipping it between their bodies to grab ahold of him, silky and hot. Bum lazily he jerks him off, more focused on their intertwining tongues than the dick on his hand.
“I’m never going to cum from a hand job,” Sangwoo says, tone flat and expectant.
Bum doesn’t respond, but changes his grip. He reaches behind him, over his thigh, grabbing the base of Sangwoo’s cock and angling it up. He rolls his hips a little, rubbing himself up and down Sangwoo’s length, twitching a little when he feels the head catch against his rim.
“Bum…” Sangwoo says, voice warning.
Bum sits up and shoves his underwear down, just far enough so that his ass is exposed. He leans back in and kisses Sangwoo. He’s tense now, but Bum ignores it, pushing past the fright that crawls up from the back of his mind, black and tangled.
“Bum, how many times do I have to tell you I’m not ga—“
“But I’m so wet for you,” Bum whispers, voice shaking because he’s so nervous, “Look.”
He taps Sangwoo’s dick against his hole, tacky with the lube that spills out of him. Sangwoo sucks in a breath and Bum rocks his hips, letting the thick cock slide through the slick collecting in the cleft of his ass.
“See Sangwoo? Y-you make me so wet.”
For a moment Sangwoo doesn’t say anything, the only sign that he’s even heard Bum is the fact that his hands flex into Bum’s sides so hard that it borders on being painful.
“I need you,” Bum begs, suddenly unbearably needy. Tears sting behind his eyes with how badly he needs to be carved open. “IneedyouIneedyou.”
“Oh, Bum. You’re that wet and I haven’t even touched you yet?” Sangwoo asks, voice quiet and soft, yet undeniably arrogant.
“Yeah.”
“You're such a fucking slut,” Sangwoo mocks, an airy little laugh to his words.
“I’m a fucking slut,” he parrots, dazed but happy.
Bum knows that if he were a girl he’d be dripping, that being called names would make him so much wetter than he is now.
“God that’s hot.” Sangwoo laughs, tossing his head back into the pillow. “Alright, go ahead and fuck me up, baby.”
Bum giggles, tears drying on his cheeks as he leans in to kiss Sangwoo. He lines himself up, knowing it’s going to hurt. He’d hoped for it, actually. He pushes his weight back and feels the pressure of Sangwoo trying to slip inside. For a moment he’s worried that Sangwoo really won’t fit, but he clenches his jaw and doubles down. With a cry his body gives, taking a few inches, his rim burning and stretching.
“Ss-so big,” He slurs, hanging his head to hide it in Sangwoo’s neck.
“Do you need some help, Bumi?” Sangwoo asks, voice quiet. Bum’s not sure if he’s teasing or being gentle, all he can focus on is the ache and the relief it brings.
“Y-yeah.”
“It might hurt. But you’re nice and wet so it shouldn’t matter, right?”
“I want it to hurt,” Bum admits, licking at Sangwoo’s neck affectionately.
He doesn’t give any other warning, grabbing Bum by the hips and pushing him down while he flexes his hips forward. It aches, and it burns, but by now Bum can’t get off if it doesn’t.
“Fuck you’re so tight,” Sangwoo says, voice strained.
After that Bum lets Sangwoo fuck him for a little, thrusting up into him until the movements glide a little easier. Until Sangwoo’s cock is coated in the lube he fingered into himself earlier. Until it’s squelching a little in the quiet room.
“Close your eyes,” Bum whispers into his ear, pushing himself up with his hands on Sangwoo’s chest.
He watches Sangwoo obey, feeling a little heady as he tries to get more comfortable, sitting up a little higher on his knees. Every movement sends a jolt of pain up his spine, but when he finds the right spot, sinking down feels good, full .
He starts slowly by rocking forward onto his hands and then back onto his hips, watching, rapt, the way Sangwoo’s eyebrows twitch in response. As he gains confidence, Bum lifts onto his knees a little more, pulling up and off Sangwoo’s cock just to fall back down onto it.
“You feel so good, Sangwoo.” Bum moans, to the ceiling.
It’s then that Sangwoo opens his eyes. At first they’re a little hazy, clouded over with want, but then they widen for a split second and his expression is scared. As if Sangwoo were terrified of him. His cock throbs hard inside Bum, but his expression stays the same.
“No!” Sangwoo says, sitting up and knocking Bum off his lap as he jumps from the bed, chest heaving. “Not like that. N-not like that.”
“Sangwoo?” Bum asks, stomach curdling. He tries to ignore the way his body screams from being forcibly stretched and then abandoned so quickly. Sangwoo had seemed so into it, but now he radiates so much rage, fear, and disgust that it makes Bum cower, skin prickling in terror.
It would be all too easy for Sangwoo to hurt him. To wrap those hands around Bum’s neck and squeeze; to lose his temper and crush his bones with heavy fists. He watches as Sangwoo pulls in a deep breath, hands clenching into tight fists at his sides. When he lets it out, calm ripples through his posture.
It’s even more terrifying than the rage.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing, Bum?” He growls out, making Bum flinch.
“I’m s-so s-sorry! Sangwoo I’m s-s—”
“Get on your hands and knees,” he orders, voice steadier now. “I wanna fuck you like a bitch.”
Bum swallows once and then obeys, turning on his hands and knees and crawling up the mattress. He chews his lip as he stares at the pillow, counting the little holes stitched into the ruffles to keep himself from spiraling. His body still feels afraid, but his mind wants to run with the fact that Sangwoo still wants to fuck him. He still wants him .
Bum feels the bed dip behind him and looks back to see Sangwoo’s knees sink beside his own.
Hands wrap around Bum’s hips, fingertips brushing together on his belly, and Sangwoo pushes back in, sighing when his hips press to Bum’s ass. It hurts, but not as bad as before and Bum shudders with renewed want.
“So tight,” Sangwoo mutters. “So tight and wet for me, Bum. Better than any bitch.”
Bum preens. And even though Sangwoo isn’t gentle and keeps a brutal pace, hips slapping against his already bruised ass, he couldn’t be more satisfied. He presses back against Sangwoo, for as long as he can, but eventually his trembling arms give way and he falls face first into the pillow. His arms reach up the mattress, scrambling to grab at something, fingers curling into talons as he claws at the sheets.
“Big… so big…” he moans. “You’re gonna tear me up,” He whines, even if it’s not true.
“Good,” Sangwoo says. Bum can tell he’s smiling.
Sangwoo yanks down the back of Bum’s underwear until it hangs halfway down his thighs and then fixes his grip back on Bum’s waist, fingers kneading into his stomach.
“If I hit you, are you going to yell?” Sangwoo asks, voice short like he’s out of breath.
“Yes,” Bum gasps out between the breaths that are punched from his lungs.
“You better scream into that pillow, Bum.”
Bum is about to agree when Sangwhoo’s palm comes down on his tortured ass, the same side that had been slapped earlier.
He just barely manages to scream into the pillow. On the third hit Bum’s back arches and he scrambles to pull up the front of his underwear, desperate not to cum all over a twelve-year-old’s bedspread.
On the seventh hit, Sangwoo’s hips stutter again, cock throbbing as warmth floods into Bum. There’s so much it makes him squirm.
“Ah, ah,” Sangwoo scolds. “Take it all. Like a real bitch, Bum.”
Bum sags further into the mattress, panting as he’s filled to the brim, Sangwoo softening inside him.
“Keep your back arched. Don’t move or it will spill,” Sangwoo tells him as he pulls out.
He steps away from the bed and Bum would turn around to watch him, but he’s afraid that if he moves he’ll make a mess before Sangwoo can come back to clean him up.
When the bed tips again Bum sighs in relief. But Sangwoo just palms his ass for a little.
“It’s like… gaping a little…” Sangwoo says, voice sounding more impressed than disgusted.
Without warning two—no, three—fingers sink back into Bum and he twitches hard in overstimulation.
“Careful not to spill Bum,” Sangwoo scolds gently. He pumps his fingers a few more times and Bum can feel the cum drip down his ball and along his soft cock, dripping into his underwear.
“Hey Bum, did you think I wouldn’t find this? You just left it on the covers… like I wasn’t going to see it.” Sangwoo says, light and terrifying. He shoves something cold and hard into Bum’s and he yelps in surprise, breath getting caught in his throat. “What is this, Bum, a plug?”
He pulls at the end of it and Bum keens at the sucking pressure.
“Answer me,” Sangwoo orders, fucking the plug in and out of Bum a few times roughly, though he’s still careful not to make a mess.
“Yea— fuck —yeah…”
“You needed it to keep the lube in?”
Bum whines, nodding his head on the pillow. He’s going to cum again if Sangwoo doesn’t stop.
“You know, you’re fucking a lot smarter than anyone gives you credit for, Bum.” Sangwoo sighs, shoving the plug back in and slapping his hand down over the flat silver base.
Bum cries into the pillow one last time, vision exploding into stars.
A long few minutes pass while they lay in bed, Bum curled into Sangwoo’s chest. He could easily fall asleep here under the weight of Sangwoo’s arm on his hip, but eventually, their little peace has to be disturbed.
“You go first Bum. Your shit should be mostly dry by now,” Sangwoo says, voice gruff and tired-sounding.
“You… you’re not coming?” Bum asks, hopeful.
“Of course not. What the fuck will people think if they see us leave together?”
Bum should be happy with what he already got, really. He was fucked within an inch of his life and has a bruised ass full of cum to prove it. Still, the words manage to eat away at the pride filling his chest. He feels a little like a slowly deflating balloon.
“Of course,” he hisses back, feeling sullen. He gets up from the bed and makes his way to the bathroom, closing the door with an annoyed snap. He gets dressed in utter silence, alone with his self-loathing and anxiety. He looks at himself in the mirror, eyes bright and cheeks flushed, and takes a little petty satisfaction in the fact that he looks like he’s just been fucked. He sighs and turns on the tap, splashing his face with cold water.
When he comes out of the bathroom Sangwoo is in his boxers, laying on the bed with his feet on the floor. He’s holding the little frog plush aloft in his hands above his head, staring up at it thoughtfully.
Bum crosses the room and reaches for the door handle without a word. It’s Sangwoo’s voice that stops him.
“You know, this thing kinda reminds me of you, Bumi.”
He wants to be offended, but the fact that Sangwoo is thinking about him at all makes Bum pathetically happy.
“Why is that?” He asks, voice thick.
“Dunno. I guess because it’s cute.” Sangwoo says plainly. He drops his arms, spreading them across the mattress, and lets go of the plush. It rolls off the bed and bounces onto the floor.
“See you, Bum.”
Bum pulls open the door without a word, glancing down the empty hall before stepping into the cool dark and closing the bedroom door behind him. He hesitates for a moment in the hall and imagines walking back into that room and kissing Sangwoo again, asking him one more time if they can’t leave together. Nobody is there to see. But then he hears the soft click of the lock. Even with the music thrumming through the soles of his shoes, it’s deafening.
– - – - –
Bum is fidgeting in the kitchen uncomfortably, watching Jisoo say her goodbyes. His ass huts, his body aches, and he’s oversensitive to the point that the weight inside him feels both irritating and arousing at the same time. He can’t relax but he’s exhausted. He’s smitten and satisfied but still wounded. Bum always feels so many things at once; he can't distinguish what’s real and what he just imagines he might feel. He feels even the possibility of things. Dr. Kim had told him that.
Sangwoo is out on the balcony and Bum keeps sneaking glances at him through the sliding glass door. Right now, he’s staring at his phone, body turned slightly away from the group he’s with. He glances up at Bum and smirks, locking his phone and slipping it into his back pocket. A second later Bum’s phone dings.
He looks down at his phone.
Sangwoo: 1 Video Attachment .
He can feel his brow pull quizzically and he opens the notification. The preview is black and he hits play.
There’s nothing for the first few seconds. It’s as if someone were covering the lens with their hand. But when it’s suddenly removed and the scene snaps into focus, it takes Bum a few seconds to register what he’s seeing. When he finally does he’s frozen to the spot, eyes blowing wide. It’s a video of him. His ass, Sangwoo’s hand squeezing his bruised asscheek. Three fingers press easily into his body, he watches in horror as a fourth one joins after a few pumps, he hadn’t even felt that.
The fingers pull out and Sangwoo’s hand moves off-camera, reappearing with the thick, stainless steel plug in his palm. He can’t hear the audio, but he knows what it will be:
“Hey Bum, did you think I wouldn’t find this?...”
“Bum!” Jisoo cries playfully, making Bum startle and drop his phone. Thankfully he managed to lock it before it slipped between his fingers. He bends down and swipes it off the tile flooring, dropping it into his pocket.
“Wait until you get home until you watch porn! Jesus!” She teases, laughing until tears collect at the corner of her eyes.
“Shh, Jisoo! Keep it down, please!”
She tosses an arm around his shoulders and pulls him to her side affectionately.
“Ready to go, Bumi?”
Bum turns around and looks at Sangwoo through the glass door. He’s watching Bum carefully, only one corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. He raises his cup, tilts his head, and takes a drink, staring at Bum with knowing eyes. It feels like a secret; it feels like flirting. Bum’s stomach flips and he returns Sangwoo’s smile with one of his own.
They’ve been playing this game all night, heated glances and bold stares communicating the things they can’t say aloud. Things Sangwoo won’t say at all. This tunnel vision is bound to get them in trouble, but for now Bum is satisfied with taking what he can get.
“Yeah, let’s go Ji-yah.”
A few minutes later he’s lowering himself gingerly into Jisoo’s car when another text comes through.
He pulls out his phone and looks at the screen. A grin too big to hide grows across his face.
“Jisoo, could you take me somewhere? I’ll tell you the way.”
“Oh, a spicy hook-up? You got it, Bum!”
Jisoo pulls up to a nice, single-family home in an extremely quiet part of town. Cars line either side of the street, security cameras blinking red from nearly every windshield. The house seems familiar, and the feeling nags at her for a few moments until suddenly, it hits her.
“Bum… isn’t this… Sangwoo’s house?” She asks slowly, eyebrows raised. Her eyes drop from the second-floor balcony to Bum. He’s smiling so big she can’t help but swallow the doubtful words and warnings that want to come out. It’s so rare to see Bum smile like that. Like he’s truly, deeply happy.
“Love you, Ji! Thanks for driving me!” Bum says, eyes wrinkling at the corners as he leans across the center console to give her a peck on the cheek.
He hops from the car still smiling and closes the door gently behind him. When he’s at the gate a thought occurs to her and Jisoo rolls down the window.
“Hey! Do you want me to wait with you? You shouldn’t just hang around in an area like this!”
Bum turns around and smiles at her, shaking his head before he turns back around and makes his way across the small front yard.
Over the top of the gate, Jisoo watches him punch in the security code and push open the front door. From the threshold he turns and waves, blowing her a kiss before he disappears into the dark, lonely-looking home.