Chapter Text
Yoonsik is a fool.
The realization crashes down on him as his opponent shatters his nose with a punishing jab. Bruised and battered, it’s too hard to raise his heavy arms to shield his face.
Yoonsik staggers, the roar of the crowd surrounding the mat growing and fading in time with the darkness pulsing at the edge of his vision.
He was a fool to think he could defeat The Dog.
With monumental effort, he raises his head to keep his lethal opponent in view.
Wide shoulders, sharp as knives bob up and down as The Dog dances lightly on his feet. His wrapped knuckles are red with Yoonsik’s blood. Sweat and blood shines on his bare torso, glistening in the shadowed light of the fighting ring. A necklace of teeth bounces against his prominent collarbones.
His dark eyes are alight with restrained bloodlust, a perpetual half smile on his wide mouth. Sweat spikes up his short black hair.
He’s so lean. Whip-thin and small-muscled. Average height. Yoonsik had watched The Dog fight many times in this very ring, wondering if the undefeated fighter’s reputation had any substance behind it. Yoonsik had stood in the crowd, arms folded and brow furrowed as he’d watched opponent after opponent go down beneath The Dog’s unrelenting assault.
Yoonsik couldn’t understand it. They were all fools, he thought, underestimating The Dog. He watched those opponents make stupid mistakes, move slowly, leave themselves open. They should have been able to snap the skinny man in half, all of them far thicker than he.
So, he was confident that he would be the one to break The Dog’s strange record.
How wrong he was.
Yoonsik gathers his strength, fights down the nausea in his stomach and breathes through his mouth. He dodges a punch, then throws his fist forward. It connects.
Yes!
Pain blooms in Yoonsik’s knuckles as he lands a solid blow to The Dog’s mouth. A smidgen of hope stings Yoonsik’s desperate heart.
The Dog stares into Yoonsik’s drooping eyes, and smiles. His grin widens, widens, widens, revealing more bloody teeth than Yoonsik thought the human mouth held.
Eyes round and crazed, The Dog laughs, a percussive sound. “Now, you’re getting it!”
Yoonsik almost drops his fists in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?” he slurs. He shakes his head and flecks of blood fly.
Light-footed on the balls of his feet, The Dog shifts sideways and jabs his knee into Yoonsik’s side.
Yoonsik doubles over.
“Aww, come on,” The Dog growls breathily. “Don’t be lame. Here. Give me another shot.”
Yoonsik blinks up to see The Dog tapping his sharp jaw. His other arm dangles at his side, body motionless for once.
Yoonsik isn’t going to question it. He swings and punches The Dog right where he’d tapped.
The Dog’s head snaps sideways and the rest of his body follows, rotating a full circle to face Yoonsik once more. Like the figurine in a creepy, haunted music box.
Yoonsik watches a shiver run down The Dog’s knobby spine and his eyes grow fever-bright. Watches his grin widen impossibly, and watches him lick his own bloody lips.
“Now, that’s the good stuff.”
What kind of freak did he get into the ring with?
Yoonsik holds The Dog’s gaze for a beat longer, and then The Dog is on him.
Sharp knuckles pound Yoonsik’s head, his ears, his neck. Knees and feet and elbows jab the rest of his battered body. The blows are so fast, so unending, that with his eyes squeezed shut, it feels like there are at least three men assaulting him.
“Come on, fight back. You tired already?”
Tired already? Hell, yes Yoonsik is tired 15 minutes into a fight. Like a normal human being. But apparently in Dog years, it’s the blink of an eye.
Yoonsik falls to his knees. The shouts of the crowd swell in excitement. A huge hand grips the top of his head and cranes it back.
“Feel free to throw a punch or something while I do this,” The Dog says casually before driving his fist against Yoonsik’s mouth.
Agony splits Yoonsik’s lips, his gums, his teeth. He grabs at The Dog’s slender arms, squeezing and scratching to no avail. The Dog’s right fist keeps up a steady rhythm of punches.
I’m going to die. I’m going to die!
There’s no tapping out, not in this underground fight ring, where people bet big money and want to see fighters beaten to a pulp. The bouts end when someone is knocked out, or dies. It’s entirely up to the victor to decide if they want to beat their opponent to death or not.
Even through Yoonsik’s blurry, darkening vision, he sees no mercy in The Dog’s manic face.
“Damn. Your teeth are really solid. You brush and floss properly or something?”
Yoonsik’s hands and feet are numb. The Dog’s words come to him as if from underwater.
“I gotta get one for my honey. He’s so creative and artistic. Makes the best jewelry. I bet he’ll love having a quality tooth to use.”
I’m dying. I’m dying , Yoonsik thinks. He would plead for mercy if he had a mouth to use. But there is only a bloody mess of pain where his mouth used to be, that unrelenting fist pounding away.
His arms drop to the side, dangling uselessly as he starts to lose consciousness.
The last thing Yoonsik feels is a tooth flying from his gums. The last thing he hears is: “Got it!” The last thing he sees is a purple smiley face painted on a tooth dangling from a silver wire around The Dog’s neck.
Then he blacks out.
***
Seungmin lets the guy fall to the floor when his eyes roll into the back of his head. It’s the one part of his face that isn’t covered in blood.
He grins down at the unconscious man. He’ll probably live. Seungmin doesn’t really care.
What he cares about is the bloody tooth in his fist and the whoop of triumph sprinkled with groans of despair from the crowd around him.
Heart pumping life and pain through him, Seungmin raises his fist and turns, silently grinning as the emcee announces with his megaphone: “And still undefeated: The Dog!”
The warehouse where they fight is huge and dim. Standing fluorescent lights shine on the center mat where the fights take place. The crowd is in shadow, standing on the floor or on the few creaky bleachers in the corners.
It’s a balmy summer night, and Seungmin’s skin feels sticky and wet. He knows it’s going to stay that way for a while.
There’s no use hosing down here when he’s going to see Felix in less than an hour. Felix hates it when he rinses off the blood and dirt from the fight. He’s punished Seungmin a few times for doing that.
Hmm…maybe Seungmin should shower, then. Felix’s punishments are spine-tingling and delicious, after all.
He strides out of the ring, swinging one leg over the coarse ropes to step barefoot onto the cold concrete floor.
“Yeah, Dog man. Awoo!”
“That’s the champ!”
“I lost so much money!”
“When’s he going to fight again?”
Seungmin lets the chatter roll over him. No one is actually brave enough to come speak to him directly. He’s heard it before: that he’s scary, unnerving. That he has the aura of a psycho.
Just as he likes it.
His knees smart and his thighs burn as he falls into an empty steel folding chair behind the betting table. Hongjoong spares him a quick glance, huge round glasses catching the light as he counts and sorts money.
“My earnings, please,” Seungmin says, mouth slick with tangy blood. Just as he likes it.
“You know it doesn’t happen that fast,” Hongjoong sing-songs, hands a blur on the money. “I have to calculate—”
“I wanna get home to Yongbok,” Seungmin says bluntly. His face is throbbing in the two spots he was hit. It stirs his gut. Makes him eager to have Yongbok in his arms.
It’s too bad he couldn’t be here today. His fights are twice as electric when Yongbok’s gaze is on him the whole time. But, he got a rush order to fill, and Seungmin is the most supportive partner. It’s hot as hell that Yongbok has his own business.
“Well, you’ll have to wait,” Hongjoong says distractedly.
“I don’t want—”
“If he’s so eager to go, he can take a cut, right?” Jongho pipes up, standing behind Hongjoong’s back like a sentinel. “Give him 2,000 and send him on his way.”
“You wanna do that, Kim?” Hongjoong asks, fingers still flying.
Seungmin tongues the inside of his cheek. There’s a cut there. He would take less than he’s due to be home sooner, if not for the Trip to Fiji he’s planning to surprise Felix with. It’s their five year anniversary in a few months, and Seungmin wants to make it special. He knows Felix just wants sex, but sex in a foreign country is always more exciting than sex at home.
“No. I’ll wait,” Seungmin grumbles, bending down to grab his bag and shoes from beneath the chair. There’s no locker rooms in this place, and other fighters might worry about having their things stolen, but not Seungmin. Ever since he started making Hongjoong’s gang a lot of money, they’ve been happy to protect his things on the rare nights that Felix doesn’t come.
Seungmin’s spine arches, knobs prominent as he tugs his socks and sneakers on. He fishes inside his backpack for his shirt, the teeth sewn into the canvas clacking as he rifles through it.
It used to be a regular backpack. Until Felix got his clever little fingers on it, and Seungmin kept bringing home grisly souvenirs from his matches.
His necklace holds the teeth of the first four people he defeated. Felix declared that any more would clutter the aesthetic of the necklace, and decided they would look better decorating his backpack.
Seungmin argued a little about it, just for fun. Just for the pleasure of seeing Felix’s cute face furrow, his sexy deep voice get louder, and frustration color his cheeks red.
And to get fucked within an inch of his life for “daring to question my sense of style,” as Felix had grunted out, mid-thrust.
Good times.
Seungmin finishes tugging on his shoes and shirt and leans back in the cold metal chair, letting the noise of the warehouse wash over him. Betters weave in and out of the crowd, some coming up to the table to collect their earnings. Some are brave enough to look him in the eye, and Seungmin turns his manic smile on all of them. Flashes of fear, or glee, or anger overcome each face, but none of them do anything.
Hongjoong still muttering beside him, Seungmin lets his gaze drift to the mat, where Yunho and San crouch over his fallen opponent. Seungmin can’t remember his name. He knew it at the beginning of the match, but now it seems stupid to remember.
He watches Yunho and San carry the man off the mat, taking him to the side of the warehouse Seungmin thinks of as the “poor fuckers” area. There’s several low cots there, and Yunho and San place the bloody body there.
Huh. So he’s alive. Dead fighters get taken to the other side of the warehouse. What Hongjoong’s crew do with them next, Seungmin has no idea.
“Here.” Hongjoong slaps a wad of cash next to Seungmin’s hand, which is resting on the table. “Thanks for the show. Let us know when you want to fight again, yeah?”
Seungmin swipes the cash and tucks it into the inner pocket of his toothy backpack. “It’ll be sooner than later, I’m sure,” he says, rising.
“It’s not a crime to take a rest, you know,” Jongho drawls.
“I know,” Seungmin says with a grin. “Which is why I won’t be.”
Jongho snorts and Hongjoong shakes his head. Seungmin waves a cocky goodbye, shouldering his bag and walking out of the warehouse. The crowd parts for him easily.
Outside, he breathes deeply. People are all around, but the night air is thick with grease and smoke, the stink of the city and the sweetness of hookers’ perfume. He tromps down the alleyway that serves as the fight ring’s entrance, winking at the women trying to get his attention like always.
“Another win, sweetheart?” says a woman called Candy, her dress shorter than Felix’s temper on a bad day. “Care to celebrate with me for once?”
Seungmin shakes his head with a smile. “I have to decline, once again. You know my husband wouldn’t be happy with that.”
Beside Candy, a black-haired beauty called Starla takes her cigarette out of her mouth and leans on Candy’s shoulder. “Bring him along! We can take two of you. Wouldn’t he like to watch?”
Seungmin laughs and inclines his head. It’s just teasing. They’re almost friends, after all. They’ve seen him and Felix walk this very alley enough times to know they’re an item.
Still, Seungmin doubts they truly understand that Felix would literally pluck their eyes from their heads if they touched Seungmin.
He’ll save their eyesight out of the goodness of his heart. And out of his absolutely non-existent desire to sleep with anyone who isn’t Felix, of course.
He walks away with one last friendly wave, merging with the foot traffic on the sidewalk in this seedy part of town.
When Seungmin’s returning from the fight alone, he likes to walk home. Even if he is rushing to get to Felix as soon as possible, the short walk always feels good after a fight. A crisp breeze picks up, cooling his skin and making the blood in his mouth taste fresh and potent, like lighting a cigarette right after brushing his teeth. As he walks, he tries to put his thoughts in order, recall every detail of the fight, because he knows how much Felix loves hearing all about it.
Just around the block from their flat, as he’s cutting through one of the backstreets, Seungmin hears a commotion. Gasps and cut-off screams, thuds and the sound of shoes scraping against asphalt.
Heart rate increasing, Seungmin dashes the final few paces, flying around the corner of a building.
His heart warms and his pupils dilate as he takes in the sight before him.
The blond of Felix’s hair catches the light of the distant streetlight, a shiny halo twirling in the night, like a fairy dancing in the moonlight.
A wicked fairy performing the dance of death.
Grunts and yelps and thuds and smacks echo, the narrow street like a canyon making the sounds bounce against the stone walls of the buildings. It’s not easy to make out the desperate shapes in the dark, but there looks to be two of them that seem to have picked, either deliberately or by random chance, a wrong person to mess with.
Just how people underestimate Seungmin in the ring, they tend to think Felix is harmless. In a way, Seungmin gets it. Felix indeed looks as harmless as a kitten—small and soft and cute. But they forget that kittens have claws too, and Seungmin’s sexy kitten has twelve years of taekwondo under his belt.
More importantly, though, is how Felix delights in inflicting pain.
As Seungmin rushes forward, he can see one attacker is already down, holding his head, with a confused look on his face, ripped jeans and grimy tee-shirt stained with the fresh blood pouring from his ear.
The remaining one is larger than Felix, and has Seungmin’s husband backed against a wall. He wears a greasy ballcap and throws a shout over his shoulder.
“Lee, you good?”
“Yeah,” Lee spits, blinking rapidly with eyes unfocused. “Can’t b-believe this fucking chick is actually a g-guy.” He rubs his head again, tries to get up, and falls back to the street. “Beat him up, dude.”
Seungmin’s stomach clenches in anticipation, little tingles firing off like champagne bubbles. These creeps have no idea what they are in for.
“I’ll show him that if he wants to dress like a girl, he can get fucked like one, too,” Ballcap smirks, advancing on the seemingly trapped Felix.
Volcanic rage replaces those champagne bubbles, and Seungmin rolls his neck, ready to kill these guys in the next two seconds if Felix doesn’t do it first.
Felix does it first.
Before Ballcap can take another step, Felix launches himself off the wall, gaining enough height to knee Ballcap in the neck. It makes Ballcap stagger, reaching up instinctively, but Felix is faster and stronger. He slots his other knee on Ballcap’s other shoulder, his little skirt bunched up to show his hard thigh muscles squeezing the man’s head from behind. His thin stockings color his shins and knees a lovely tan, stopping half-way up his thighs.
But the thing that makes Ballcap scream is Felix’s vicious little thumbs digging into his eyes.
Ballcap claws at Felix’s legs, tearing a hole in a stocking, while his buddy gapes like a fish. Felix’s sharp canines flash in the darkness as he smiles wide. He bears down, wicked strong thumbs pushing, pushing, pushing, solid despite Ballcap tugging at his wrists.
Seungmin slows his sprint to a saunter so he can admire Felix in all his glory.
His pale hair is mussed from the fight, sticking up every which way. His face spreads wide, eyebrows high over round eyes, bright with murderous glee. A sleeveless red top shows off his corded arms, his freckled skin. And, of course, his legs holding him in place, perched on this man marked for death.
Seungmin is so in love he could scream.
“Please, no! Stop! No!” Ballcap begs. Seungmin pokes his tongue into his cheek. Felix loves it when they beg.
Sure enough, Seungmin watches as Felix gives a little wiggle of happiness and twists his wrists. One eyeball finally rips free of the socket, half of it smeared on Felix’s thumb. Blood gushes, getting all over Felix’s dainty wrist and Ballcap’s face. He wails.
Felix finally notices Seungmin, and meets his gaze with a manic giggle.
“Hi, babe,” Felix says. “Nice evening we’re having, huh?”
Seungmin crosses his arms and leans against a nearby lamp-post, grinning. “Very lovely, indeed.”
On the ground, Lee has finally stumbled up to his feet, the concussion Felix no doubt gave him wreaking havoc on his balance. Still, he staggers over to his buddy, who is still standing, still trying ineffectually to get Felix off of him.
Seungmin pushes off the lamp post to intervene, but before he can, Felix wrenches his knees sideways, and Ballcap’s screams go silent as his neck breaks with a loud crack!
Felix flips off the body as it falls, little skirt fluttering up and giving Seungmin a perfect view of skimpy white panties barely containing Felix’s bulge.
Against the darkness of the night, the white silky flash of lace panties makes Seungmin’s mouth dry, his cock throbbing with interest within a split second.
Felix lands primly next to Lee, who startles as if Felix had simply popped out of thin air.
“This was fun,” he says with a cute tilt of his head. “Let’s do it again sometime.”
Before Lee can do more than blink, Felix delivers a mean jab to his solar plexus, making him hunch forward, wheezing. Felix grips Lee’s head, raises his knee, and slams Lee’s face down into it once, twice, thrice, four times in rapid succession.
Lee falls to the ground, a heap of motionless flesh.
Felix shakes his head with an annoyed huff of air, rolling his eyes, then prances over to Seungmin with a smile.
Seungmin watches him, fond and horny, drinking in his beauty. The blood painting his knee and hand, small flecks everywhere else.
Then, Felix is falling into his arms, face tilted up with a cute pucker of his lips, begging for a kiss.
Seungmin laughs and obliges, of course he does. He bends down to press his own split lip to Felix’s salty ones, and shivers when Felix licks him, slow and wet.
Just once though. Then Felix pulls back and looks at him expectantly.
Seungmin locks his arms more securely around Felix’s waist. “You okay?” Seungmin asks. It’s obvious he is. Fresh-faced and glowing like he just spent the day at the spa instead of killing two men.
But he knows his husband. Knows the inner workings of his crooked heart. So he asks anyway.
Felix nods, then pouts, batting his eyelashes as he looks up at Seungmin. “I ripped my stocking.”
“Aw no, baby,” Seungmin coos. “That’s a shame. Let me see.”
Felix lifts his leg high up and leans it against Seungmin’s shoulder. There are several runs in the hose, pale flesh peeking through the dark nylon. With gentle fingers, Seungmin touches along the straight line of his thigh. He kisses Felix’s ankle, then slowly drops down to his knees, Felix’s leg now hooked over his shoulder.
“Your poor stocking,” Seungmin says. “Ruined.”
“Mhm,” Felix hums, brushing Seungmin’s hair with his hand.
“Seeing that they’re ruined now, how about I rip the other one too?”
“Will you buy me a new pair?”
“I’ll buy you ten new pairs,” Seungmin says as he presses his lips to Felix’s other leg. He kisses the smooth soft skin, caressing the firm muscles of Felix’s thigh. Sucking gently, he moves further up, closer to that white lace that he caught a glimpse of earlier, then bites into the tender skin, catching the thin thread of Felix’s stocking between his teeth. He pulls on the delicate see-through fabrics, and even brings his hands to help, tearing the stocking with much more force than was necessary.
Felix gasps, both at the act and to feel Seungmin’s lips on his bare skin. They both watch the dark trail of blood Seungmin’s kisses left on his thigh, and Felix moans, rolling his hips into Seungmin’s face.
Seungmin chuckles, stilling Felix with gentle hands on his waist. Felix squirms, lifting his skirt and that flash of thin white lace dances before Seungmin’s eyes again.
Seungmin’s hands move lower to cup his bottom, and he squeezes, fingers going under Felix’s skirt, trailing along his thin sexy white panties. “So sexy, destroying those men. Sorry I wasn’t here to do that.”
“Yeah,” Felix huffs, already sounding affected. He looks down at Seungmin and licks his lips. “They were bothering me for so long. Followed me all the way from the metro. You were supposed to be home sooner.”
Seungmin laughs. He could have guessed it already but now he is certain. “Lee Felix. Did you orchestrate this?” If Felix took the metro home, he wouldn’t be on this street. The metro stop is the other way around the block.
“Orchestrate isn’t quite right…”
His manipulative kitten. How he loves him. Felix lured those men to this spot so Seungmin would see them on his way home. “If you wanted to see me fight you could have just come to my match.”
Felix pouts. “It’s different. It’s been ages since you fought someone for me .” He takes in Seungmin’s bloody, grit-covered state, smirking. “Though fighting for not my honor is sexy too. Sorry I couldn’t come.”
“That’s okay, baby,” Seungmin says. “There’ll be more matches. I know you were busy.”
Felix takes one of Seungmin’s large hands in both of his smaller ones, raising it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to the torn skin of his knuckles. A tiny sting of pain blooms across his skin, one that spins quickly into arousal as Felix holds his gaze and darts his tongue out.
“Will you tell me about it?” Felix asks.
“When we get home.”
“Why do I have to wait to get home to hear it?”
“Because I can’t wait to get home to do this.” He puts Felix’s leg back down on the ground and swiftly turns him around, pushing him towards the wall.
Felix grunts high in his throat, leaning his hands against the bricks, and eagerly spreads his legs.
Seungmin runs his fingers along the pretty white lace of his panties once more, then violently tears them as well, grinning at how Felix shudders.
He really couldn’t wait to get home to do this. Not with a tightness in his belly and saliva pooling in his mouth. Not with that fierce and fatal display he just witnessed.
He pulls Felix’s asscheeks apart, rubbing his face along the crack. He inhales the scent of Felix’s body, dying to taste him. A shy little hole peeks at him from between Felix’s spread cheeks, and Seungmin almost growls at the sight of it.
Felix pushes his hips back, impatient, and Seungmin would love to tease him, make him wait until he’s mindless and begging for it, but he himself is starved.
And he’s never been one to deny himself what he wants.
He kisses Felix’s asscheeks: one, then the other, then plants a trail of soft open-mouthed kisses from Felix’s lower back all the way down to his entrance, beautiful and puckered up, ready to be devoured.
Felix gasps as Seungmin’s lips brush against his little hole, the muscle in his right thigh twitching a bit. Seungmin presses his mouth harder, then gently licks around the rim. A beautiful, lingering moan spirals out of Felix, and it zings through Seungmin like lightning.
Mad with desire, Seungmin rubs his tongue along the velvety folds of flesh, savouring the way Felix trembles, his needy little sounds music to Seungmin’s ears. He loves tasting Felix like this, loves burying his tongue inside his little hole, feeling it go soft and open under his lips. Seungmin could do this for hours and never get enough of it, his hunger for taking Felix apart with just his tongue insatiable.
“Spit on it,” Felix pants. “Spank it.”
His baby seems to be in a peculiar mood tonight. Seungmin fucked him just yesterday morning, so good and hard that Felix made a show of whining and limping happily for the rest of the day, demanding to be fed in bed lying on his side instead of eating seated at their dining table.
Still, they’ve been together long enough for Seungmin to have noticed how Felix gets extra freaky and insatiable when Seungmin fights. Usually he waits to hear the details first if he wasn’t there to watch it.
Seungmin isn’t going to complain about the change of pace, though.
Seungmin is a generous and indulgent lover, which is why he is now kneeling in the dark dirty street (the pain in his knee-caps a bonus that keeps him hard), eating his husband out in plain sight for any random passerby to see. He pulls back a little, spreading Felix’s asscheeks wider with his hands and spits on his little hole, smiling when Felix whimpers.
He taps his fingers on Felix’s crack, smacking gently.
“Your little hole been naughty, baby?” he asks. “So needy that you had to set those poor suckers up just to flash your panties at me?” He rubs the tender flesh, then smacks again, harder. It’s hot beneath his fingertips. “Are you that hungry for me, baby?”
“Fucking starved,” Felix moans.
Seungmin presses the rim with his fingers, smearing his spit along the folds, then pulls Felix’s hips, making him arch his back more. He slaps Felix’s little hole with sharp strikes, delighting in the way Felix’s whines turn louder, then spits again.
He smacks Felix’s asscheeks a few times too, for good measure, then kisses the red blush of his handprint before sinking his tongue inside Felix’s sweet little hole again. He swears he can pinpoint the exact moment Felix’s knees buckle, driving him back onto Seungmin’s tongue even deeper.
Spurred on by Felix’s increasingly desperate moans that make his own cock weep, Seungmin tongue-fucks him with passionate dedication, salivating at the way Felix’s flesh opens for him, the way his little hole flutters and clenches.
When he pushes a finger inside, curling it along the walls of Felix’s spit-slick inner tunnel, Felix sobs.
“Oh god yes,” he chokes out. “There. Don’t stop.”
Seungmin grins, pushing another finger in, his mouth abandoning its task just for a moment. “Don’t worry, baby,” he says, fingers skillfully and ruthlessly pressing Felix’s sweet spot. “I’ll eat you out until you can’t stand.”
As soon as Seungmin’s dirty promise hits Felix’s ears, he comes, clawing at the brick wall in front of him. True to his word, Seungmin doesn’t stop, tongue and fingers relentless. Felix comes again, and again, and then once more, getting increasingly boneless after each time.
In the end he is hardly able to support himself, trapped between the wall and Seungmin’s hands and face. Felix sags, his voice raspy and broken from moaning, legs trembling uncontrollably.
“I could go on, you know,” Seungmin teases.
“Then you’d have to carry me home.” Felix sways on his feet. “I mean, you’ll probably have to carry me even now.”
With a burst of fond laughter, Seungmin stands up. His knees hurt deliciously from kneeling so long on the pavement, but he stretches and gently turns Felix to face him.
Felix smirks like a pampered cat, eyes shining with tender affection. He is flushed and breathless, his cheeks damp with perspiration, and he hums softly when Seungmin nuzzles at his face, kissing each and every freckle, each little bead of sweat.
Felix’s gaze drifts down, and he suddenly sighs dramatically, a big heave of his chest. “Looks like you’ve ruined yet another one of my nice clothes.”
Seungmin follows his gaze and sees the white scrap of ripped panties lying on the pavement. He grins and leans forward to whisper in Felix’s ear. “Clothes aren’t the only thing I ruin.” He skates a finger across Felix’s rim as he says it.
Felix throws his head back and laughs, full-bodied and deep, even as he slaps Seungmin’s shoulder.
Heart light and cock slowly going soft, Seungmin scoops Felix up and throws him over one broad shoulder. The quick change from deep laugh to high-pitched yelp has him smirking.
“Hey!”
“What? You said I should carry you,” Seungmin says. He bends to snatch the panties from the ground and tuck them in his pocket, then stretches his long legs to carry them to their flat.
“And I suppose having my naked ass next to your face is an accident?”
Seungmin rubs his cheek on Felix’s bare ass cheek, his little skirt only half covering him. Then he turns his head and fits his teeth into the meat there.
Another high-pitched squawk.
“You love it. Don’t pretend you don’t, yeobo,” Seungmin says. He knows Felix loves the public exposure (even if no one is around right now) and the attention to his butt.
Felix hums, going limp, legs and arms and head dangling loosely. “You’re right. I do. And so do you!”
Right as Seungmin makes it to their front door, Felix dives his treacherous little hands into the back of Seungmin’s pants, groping Seungmin’s ass with gusto.
Seungmin jerks, and Felix cackles maniacally, squeezing Seungmin’s cheeks in a rapid, pulsing rhythm.
My little freak, he thinks fondly as he opens the door and steps inside. Their kitchen is directly in front of the door, wooden table and chairs a few steps away.
He closes the door behind him and then slides Felix forward, off his shoulder. It takes Felix’s wicked hands away from his ass, which is a shame, but drags Felix’s skirt up, rubbing his bare cock on Seungmin’s chest and belly as he slides down.
Felix looks at him with mock reproach, a pout and a smile fighting for dominance of his pretty pink lips.
Seungmin knows just what will win that fight.
With a flourish, Seungmin takes out the wad of cash and puts it on the table in front of Felix. Slowly, with considerable pomp, he places the tooth on top of it.
As soon as the tooth touches the cash, Felix snatches it up, bringing it close to his face and inspecting it from all angles. His pretty fingers press into the sharp edge, the root, the sides.
His own teeth are bared in a smile as he says, “I can always count on you, babe.”
Seungmin can’t resist looping an arm around Felix’s waist and tugging him closer. His perfect husband. More excited about this grisly souvenir than money. What beautiful, bizarre creation will he make with it?
“Never doubt it.” He licks into Felix’s mouth, tracing the backs of his teeth. Then he pulls back. “I suppose you don’t want me to shower yet.”
“In the morning.” Felix pushes him roughly to the wooden kitchen chair and sits on his lap. “Tell me about the fight.”
As Seungmin recounts the fight in detail, Felix rubs his chest and shoulders, making appropriate reaction noises, interrupting every now and then to ask a question or just to kiss him.
Despite coming several times not fifteen minutes ago outside, Felix is obviously getting aroused again. He always does when Seungmin talks about his fights.
That’s why Seungmin makes sure not to miss any detail, to give every important moment the attention it deserves, using his words to paint a picture for Felix, making him experience the fight as if he was there. The violent story, as well as feeling Seungmin’s lean muscles under his fingers, and seeing up close the bruises and the cuts, all combine to make Felix slowly start to squirm in Seungmin’s lap.
Tonight is no exception. As Seungmin looks up into his love’s face, he drinks in his lidded eyes, flushed cheeks, and tongue darting out to lick his lips.
Seungmin loves seeing him like this, loves knowing what his words do to him. Most of all, he loves knowing how deeply passionate Felix is about all the deadly, brutal things Seungmin does with his hands. The hands that break people’s bones, that pummel them into a bloody mess of gore, are now so gentle as they caress Felix’s unblemished skin, his soft, beautiful body, and his angelic face.
By the time Seungmin is done recounting his fight, Felix is fully hard and eager. He gets up, taking Seungmin’s hand.
“Let’s go to the bedroom, baby,” he says, voice deep and husky. It sends a hot shiver up Seungmin’s spine. “You must be knackered. Let me give you a massage.”
Seungmin relishes Felix’s grip on his wrist, warm and soft. He can’t help the wide grin that takes over his face as Felix tugs him through their bedroom door.
Their bedroom is a mess, to put it mildly. Seungmin can’t stand it. Or, he can, because it’s all Felix’s things strewn about: headphones and clothes and knives and bones. So many bones. Seungmin jokes that there’s no point to Felix’s studio when he litters their house with his supplies anyway. Felix will either scowl and kiss him, or laugh and hit him when he says that.
Felix releases Seungmin’s hand to remove some bags and books from the bed, dropping them unceremoniously to their cluttered floor. Then he spins, eyes bright and hard cock tenting his skirt.
“C’mere, baby.”
As if Seungmin would ever deny that subsonic voice.
He drifts forward, and gasps when Felix grabs his bruised waist, flinging his sweat- and blood-smeared body onto the bed with considerable strength. Seungmin bounces, and a hot thrill pools in the base of his stomach.
“Feisty, tonight,” Seungmin says, licking his lips.
Felix grins like a shark. “Only the best for my husband.”
Seungmin giggles and laces his hands behind his head, sinking into the mattress while Felix fetches his massage supplies.
Well. Felix calls it massage. Technically, it is. Or at least it starts like that. Seungmin lies on the bed and closes his eyes as Felix returns and gently presses the hot, fragrant pouches all over his body.
Felix picked the herbs himself. He made the pouches himself too, so fucking creative. Just one in the sea of the zillion little things Seungmin loves about him, the way his dexterous little hands make magic out of nothing.
The warm scent of the herbs fills the room—overpowering the smell of tobacco that sticks to the walls of their little flat—and Seungmin feels his muscles slowly relax. The tension dissipates bit by bit, until both his body and mind are mellow, the earlier fight pushed to the faraway corners of his consciousness as if it happened in another lifetime.
When the pouches start cooling down and the sweet herbal fragrance is no longer as powerful, Seungmin smiles to himself, welcoming the flutter of anticipation shooting through him.
He knows what comes next: Felix’s hands working a different kind of magic, Seungmin’s body pliant clay under his fingertips.
The touches start gentle, Felix’s fingers slowly trailing the outlines of Seungmin’s muscles, tracing the bruises and the cuts. It takes all Seungmin’s resolve to stay still, anticipation building in his guts.
“So good for me,” Felix rumbles. “Giving me so many pretty spots to play with.”
Seungmin’s eyes slip close and he sighs when Felix presses sharply into a purple bruise over his ribs, the ache flaring deliciously. His fingers glide over to a tender spot on his shoulder and dig in.
Felix is thorough, awarding the same deliberate attention to each aching spot, making it hurt anew. Seungmin sinks into the mattress, a willing sacrifice to Felix’s art.
When Seungmin fights, pain is a perk, a fun part of the bout. It fuels him, sparking that manic wildness he loves. But he doesn’t have time to truly feel it in its full intensity, unfortunately spending some attention on his opponent.
But under Felix’s wicked ministrations, Seungmin revels in it. It’s devious and beautiful and luxurious, this pain that Felix’s fingers inflict. He basks in its sharp edges, its potent fire, the kind that makes his muscles scream and his mind sing, his heart swelling as much as his cock.
And, fuck, does his cock swell.
He revisits the fight with each vicious touch; carefully chosen bruises pressed and dug into until his brain vibrates red and hot and mad with desire. The way Felix torments his aching body makes him experience the fight the way Felix sees it.
Seungmin feels just how much and in how many devious ways Felix enjoys the agony Seungmin puts others through, and perhaps even more, the agony he himself is able to endure. He never feels more appreciated, more worshipped, than in these moments when Felix pokes at his wounds with cruel, ruthless, perverse dedication.
Felix digs his nails into the cut on Seungmin’s cheekbone, and Seungmin lets out something between a hum and a grunt. He opens his eyes, smiling to see Felix’s angelic features focused on his devilish task.
When he catches Seungmin’s gaze, Felix licks his lips. They’re red and plush and Seungmin is dying for a taste. He’s sure Felix can see his desperation.
Despite his touches being heartless, Felix himself is not, and he doesn’t deny Seungmin the wet, soft heat of his mouth. He lies on top of Seungmin, straddling him, and moans into the kiss. When Seungmin wraps his arms around him, hands squeezing his waist, then trailing lower to cup Felix’s asscheeks, Felix lets out a little whimper and starts rolling his hips.
Seungmin’s cock twitches in his pants, and he slithers his hands under Felix’s skirt, fingers stroking his smooth, bare skin.
Suddenly, Felix breaks the kiss and grips Seungmin’s jaw, sending pulses of pleasure-pain down his spine. He pushes Seungmin’s head up and licks a long stripe up his throat. Seungmin closes his eyes again as Felix peppers his collarbone with soft open-mouthed kisses, then grazes his teeth over Seungmin’s chest, slowly, carefully, until he finds a nipple and bites down hard.
Seungmin bucks his hips up, groaning in bliss.
“So eager.” Felix says lowly. “Turn around for me, baby. I want you on your stomach.”
Felix slides Seungmin’s pants off, raising an eyebrow when he finds his ripped panties in the pocket. He tucks them away somewhere with a dangerous glint in his eye.
And then Seungmin can’t see anything because his face is pressed into the mattress.
The prep is a lot more careful than the way his bruises were handled, but it’s still far from gentle. Felix is more focused on the objective ahead—stretching Seungmin open just enough as quickly as possible—than on showing mercy. He starts with two slicked up fingers at once, and Seungmin shudders. The burn of the stretch makes him gasp into the pillow. He arches, pushing back into the touches.
There is something beautiful in the way he allows himself to be vulnerable with Felix, to endure this pain without a flinch, without retaliation.
As Felix pushes the third finger inside, Seungmin delights in the way his flesh first resists then submits to the intrusion—the only assault he ever yields to is that of Felix’s nimble curious fingers.
There’s a shuffling behind him, and suddenly white lace panties, fragrant with Felix’s musk, land on Seungmin’s head, dangling in his face.
Like a starving man thrown a chunk of bread, Seungmin snatches them and presses them to his nose, inhaling deeply. His eyes roll into the back of his head as a sudden surge of heat makes his cock jump, dribbling pre-cum onto the sheets.
Felix giggles as he feels Seungmin clench around his fingers.
"You like me that much, huh? My desperate little puppy, aren't you?"
He straddles Seungmin from behind, kneading the flesh of his asscheeks. He’s still not fully open, but Seungmin doesn’t care. He is always ready for Felix, even if he’s still so tight that it has to hurt. Especially when it has to hurt.
“Finest ass in the world. All for me,” Felix says, gripping one cheek punishingly hard, spreading it to the side so far it stings.
“Just for you,” Seungmin grunts in response, arching his back even farther to entice Felix.
Felix chuckles, gravelly and villainous. The hem of his skirt brushes Seungmin’s lower back, and that feather-light touch has Seungmin jolting in burning arousal. Fuck, his husband is hot.
Finally, the head of Felix’s cock presses against his entrance, and Seungmin stills, breathing nice and slow, relaxed and silent with his face buried in the pillow. He doesn’t even move when he’s breached, waiting patiently for Felix to split him open.
Felix pushes, unrushed, but without hesitation either, making small grunts of effort. “You’re so tight, baby,” he says. “So fucking perfect.”
Seungmin shifts a little, raising his hips slightly to take him better, allowing the pain of this invasion to overwrite the soreness still burning through his body after the fight. In stoic silence, he submits, letting Felix have his way with him.
But Felix pauses, leaning down to suck the skin on Seungmin’s shoulder blade. There must be a bruise there because it hurts when his lips press against it. Felix runs his fingers through Seungmin’s hair, then tugs at the strands, close to the scalp, and pulls his head roughly up.
“I know you take the pain without a sound,” he whispers in Seungmin’s ear, as his cock sinks deeper inside. “But I want to hear you moan for me.”
Seungmin lets out a throaty laugh, but then does as he’s told, moaning loudly, just how his baby likes it.
“Oh yeah,” Felix hums, deep and guttural, and starts moving. He goes slow, pausing between the thrusts, but hard, slamming down inside with determined force.
Feeling the drag of his inner muscles each time Felix pulls back, Seungmin whimpers. He loves hurting for Felix and he’s happy to show it, knowing it drives Felix wild.
Once Seungmin’s flesh has somewhat adjusted and offers almost no resistance, Felix changes the pace, fucking in deep long thrusts, his hips rolling sensually as he drives his cock inside Seungmin, entering him anew.
Impatience swells within Seungmin. The stretch no longer burns and he yearns for that intensity. “Harder,” he demands, lifting his hips.
Felix smacks his ass sharply, then slides his hand down Seungmin’s spine, wrapping it around his neck. He squeezes. “You want it harder?”
“Yes,” Seungmin pants, the pressure on his throat increasing with each sound he makes. It fogs his mind, makes the feel of Felix pounding into him all the sharper. He loves it.
Felix’s grip tightens, making it difficult for Seungmin to swallow, and he whines through a low thrumming tone, scratchy and raspy. His orgasm suddenly builds, getting closer and closer as his vision grows darker and darker. The pressure on his throat, the pistoning inside him, it all sends him hurtling towards that edge.
Felix suddenly sits up, releasing his hold of Seungmin’s neck, and pulls out.
Seungmin gasps harshly, his orgasm fading. He shoots a glare over his shoulder, one without heat, mostly because he can barely see.
Felix’s palm strikes Seungmin’s bottom sharply. “Not yet,” he says. “Turn around, my fighter.”
When Seungmin turns around, he sees Felix grin, his eyes crinkled and sparkling with mischief. Wickedness suits Felix, perhaps because he looks so much like an angel; the contrast takes Seungmin’s breath away, and he quickly forgets about his ruined orgasm.
Gazing upon Felix, his wicked angel, makes him feel like he’s losing ground beneath his feet, like the whole world is crumbling and he’s too mesmerised by the beauty of the inferno to be bothered by the singe of the blaze. He can’t resist a kiss, surging forward with his hands outstretched. And Felix, even as wicked as he gets, never denies him one.
Seungmin hums into the soft wetness of Felix’s mouth, rubbing his tongue along the plush warmth, smiling when Felix’s teeth nip at his lips.
“I want to watch your face,” Felix says. “See how you shatter for me. So. Very. Slowly.”
Seungmin cups his cheeks, kissing his freckles gently, then pushes him to lie down on the mattress.
Felix moans when Seungmin straddles him. He carefully positions himself, lining Felix’s cock with his entrance, and clenches hard as he starts lowering himself on it. He takes the tip and pauses, delighting in the way Felix’s eyes feast on his features. Gasping, he rocks his hips back and forth, slowly sinking lower, his little hole squeezing lovingly along each inch.
“Yes, baby, just like that,” Felix says. “Milk it.”
Once he bottoms out, Seungmin waits, motionless, working his inner muscles around Felix’s girth, clenching and relaxing. Only when Felix bucks his hips up does he start moving. Even though he craves intensity, he goes slow, because that’s how Felix likes it. He rolls his body at an unhurried pace, moaning when Felix puts his hands on his thighs.
Just like in the ring, Seungmin puts on a good show for his husband. He throws his head back, licking his lips, and groans and hums with every move. Felix trails his fingers over Seungmin’s body, caressing, squeezing, pinching, his touches leaving their mark on Seungmin’s skin, making him shudder. Soon, there will be no tan left. His body is just a canvas of love and pain and power.
Felix has small hands, like a kitten. Seungmin loves how clever and capable they are, how soft and gentle. But his tender pretty hands can be harsh too, nails raking along Seungmin’s skin, fingers digging into fresh bruises, and Seungmin loves that even more.
He takes Felix’s right hand and brings it to his lips, planting a kiss on the mound of his palm, then licks a stripe to his fingers. He kisses each finger before he takes two in his mouth, sucking.
Felix smiles, pushing his fingers deeper into Seungmin’s mouth, pressing down on his tongue. Seungmin grips his wrist, pulling the hand away from his lips.
“You want your fingers inside me too?” he asks. “Or you wanna stroke my cock?”
Felix seems to think for a moment, even though Seungmin knows exactly what it’s gonna be. “I want to stroke you first,” Felix says. “You’ll get the fingers when you come. I want to feel you clench. I want to feel how tight you can get for my fingers and my cock at the same time.” He stares directly into Seungmin’s eyes, unashamed of his filthy words. As he should be.
Seungmin clenches involuntarily and grins, holding Felix’s small hand in his, and spits into Felix’s palm.
Felix gasps at the crude act, a powerful shiver running through his body.
Seungmin brings Felix’s hand to his cock. It is too small to wrap around it fully, Felix’s fingers too short, but he grips it so tight that Seungmin sees stars.
“Fuck, baby, that’s so hot,” Seungmin says.
Felix gives his cock a harsh tug, and Seungmin moans.
“Is this how tight I am around you when you fuck me?” Felix asks.
“Tighter.”
Felix squeezes harder. “Like this?”
“Tighter,” Seungmin pants.
Felix strokes his cock, making it hurt, and Seungmin’s hips start moving with more fervour. Sweat drips down his forehead, pools in the hollow of his throat and the small of his back. He rides Felix’s cock and fucks inside Felix’s clenched fist as they both moan, gazing into each other’s eyes.
When Seungmin speeds up, Felix guides his other hand to Seungmin’s ass. He gropes the firm globe of Seungmin’s asscheeks, fingers moving to where their bodies meet.
With a loud whimper, Seungmin forces his body to relax as Felix rubs his rim stretched around Felix’s cock. He presses harder, and Seungmin stills, letting Felix wiggle one finger inside.
“Oh god,” Seungmin moans.
Felix doesn’t stop with just one finger, but forces another one in. Seungmin is spread so wide, ass full of Felix’s cock and Felix’s fingers, the piercing pain so delicious.
“Go on, baby,” Felix urges. “Move for me.”
Panting with the effort, with the feeling of being stretched to his limits, Seungmin forces himself to rock his hips, grinding down on Felix. Slowly, he starts picking up tempo.
Burning, stinging, overwhelming pleasure races through him. With Felix’s hand tight around his cock, and his hole stretched taut, it grows and grows, spreading throughout his pelvis with that intensity he’s been craving.
And then, it explodes.
Through choked out sobs and loud wails, Seungmin trembles, his vision going black as a thick gush of come spurts out of his cock, spilling over Felix’s dexterous little fingers.
It seems to go on forever, wave after wave of shuddering pleasure wracking his body. It’s just like a fight, but better. Intense and unexpected and punishing to the body.
Eventually, the waves cease, and he blinks dazedly, panting from his position atop Felix. Against his will, his body goes mellow, boneless, and Felix swiftly sits up and topples him down onto the mattress. His fingers are out of Seungmin’s little hole, but his cock is still there, hard and throbbing.
Seungmin whimpers at the movement. He is sore and oversensitive, but he loves what comes next. So he allows Felix to get on top of him, and is pliant when Felix hooks his reddened knees over his shoulders, folding him in half.
He still shivers, occasional spasm of his release making his body convulse.
“That’s right, baby,” Felix coos. “So good for me.”
When Felix starts thrusting, Seungmin smiles, whispering a string of I love yous as Felix pounds him into the mattress. It’s hard and fast and ruthless and perfect. Seungmin’s eyes roll back inside his head, and he feels tears slide down his cheeks. When Felix sees that, he groans, his rhythm becoming erratic. He lowers his head and licks Seungmin’s tears, moaning in bliss, and comes with a long, loud scream.
He falls on top of Seungmin, who holds him tight in his arms, kissing his hair, humming some soft praise as Felix pants and shudders in his embrace.
Seungmin pulls the sheet over them, and Felix snuggles at his chest, making small cute sounds that make Seungmin’s heart melt.
“I love you so much,” Felix whispers. “You were great tonight. You broke that guy’s skull in the ring.”
Seungmin smiles. “I love you too, baby. And you were great tonight too. You broke this guy’s back.”
They giggle, rubbing their faces together. Tucked under the covers, with Felix warm and soft in his arms, Seungmin enjoys the way the tiredness overcomes him and the way Felix’s kisses lull him to sleep.