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It was Jihoon’s first time bottoming.
And God, he thought he might die from it.
He was burning. Every muscle in his body shivered, twitching beneath the taut stretch of sinew as his back arched off the mattress, toes digging into the sheets, fists clawing at air. His breath caught somewhere in his throat, choked and ragged, and his eyes rolled white as the nerves in his spine exploded with heat. Logic fractured like glass underfoot, splintering, useless— and his body panicked. His hips twisted, a spasm of resistance, his thighs locking as instinct kicked and screamed against the pressure.
But then there were hands. Strong, commanding, and anchoring. One on his hip, the other flattening over his chest. A deep voice murmured something low and soothing.
Sanghyeok was there.
Jihoon had asked for this, begged for it, even—but his brain didn’t care. All it knew was that it was being taken, and that it wasn’t ready. He cried out, a strangled half-sob of helpless, helpless want. His skin was flushed with panic, but his cock betrayed him— hard, twitching, aching where it lay against his belly, smeared already with precum. His legs jerked, tried to close, but Sanghyeok’s weight held them wide, firm thighs bracketing his.
The fingers inside him moved again— slow and deliberate. Jihoon nearly convulsed. “Ah-ahhh, f-fuck…” he whined, throwing his head back. Every nerve ending lit like a fuse.
Sanghyeok didn’t flinch. His fingers kept moving, shallow, careful thrusts. Coaxing. Teasing. Stretching Jihoon open, not to hurt him, but to prepare him. And that, somehow, was worse.
Kindness like a razor. Love like a dagger. Jihoon wanted to scream.
His chest heaved. He forgot how to breathe again, and again, until Sanghyeok leaned down, brushed his lips against Jihoon’s ear and whispered, "Breathe. Jihoon-ah. Just breathe for me."
Jihoon inhaled sharply, trembling, and the moment he did, his mind cleared a little. The pain softened—no, not pain—pressure, and he could finally feel it. The slick glide of Sanghyeok’s fingers inside him, curling gently, spreading lube through that tight heat. They weren’t cruel, they weren’t even deep yet. Just enough to make his whole body sing.
He dared to glance down.
Sanghyeok’s face was carved in reverence. His cheeks flushed, his lips slightly parted, his eyes utterly, ferociously dark with restraint. One hand still pinned Jihoon’s abdomen down, fingers splayed possessively. The other was buried to the first knuckle in Jihoon’s body, working slow and patient strokes.
Jihoon swallowed. “Hnghh… fuck…” he breathed, his voice embarrassingly high.
Sanghyeok’s fingers pulled out, glistening. The sight of them made Jihoon’s face go red to the ears. But Sanghyeok only smiled, traced those slick fingers up, dragging lube over Jihoon’s balls, over the soft space behind them, and finally kissed the tip of his cock with quiet, devout affection.
“Sanghyeok…” Jihoon gasped, shuddering. “Please…”
“Just like that,” Sanghyeok murmured. “Keep talking.”
Then his mouth dipped low, enveloping Jihoon’s cock in heat. At the same time, two fingers slid back in, deeper this time, unrelenting.
Jihoon bucked. “A-Ah-fuuuhhhck—!”
Pleasure punched him like a fist. His hips jolted upward instinctively, and Sanghyeok’s other hand moved behind him, bracing the curve of his spine, urging him to move, to grind down onto the intrusion. The rhythm started to take hold—wet and controlled. Jihoon’s breath hitched with every drag of Sanghyeok’s tongue around his crown, every curl of fingers inside him.
His body went haywire. His stomach clenched. “Nghh—Sanghyeok... Stop teasing—fuck—”
But Sanghyeok didn’t stop. If anything, he slowed. He pulled off with a slick pop, eyes wicked and sharp, and gently rocked his fingers in deeper. “You feel it?” he asked, lips still glistening. “That little swell? Right there?”
The fingers twisted.
“H-hyung—!”
The stars behind his eyes detonated. His cock jerked, a thick bead of precum leaking from the slit and sliding down his shaft. Sanghyeok watched it, mesmerized, then leaned down to catch it with his tongue. Jihoon groaned brokenly, hands scrabbling at the sheets, trying to find something to anchor him.
“That's your prostate, Jihoon,” Sanghyeok said, and Jihoon could have died from the way his name sounded in that voice.
He couldn’t respond. He was mewling now, small, high-pitched sounds, gasped into the air without permission. Every thrust sent tremors through his thighs, made his knees tremble and his toes curl. The fingers curled again— deeper, sharper— and his entire body jolted.
“Shit,” Jihoon rasped, face twisting. “Shit—hyung, I—fuck, I think I’m—"
He squeezed his eyes shut.
“I think I’m gonna-fuck, I think I’m gonna pee.”
Sanghyeok didn’t pause. Just licked a stripe up Jihoon’s inner thigh, nuzzled against the tremble in his groin. “You're not,” he said calmly. “Trust me.”
“I-I can't—"
“Breathe, Jihoon.” Sanghyeok kissed his hip, sucked hard enough to leave a mark. “Let it happen.”
He slipped his fingers out— and before Jihoon could protest, slicked them again and pushed in with three.
Jihoon wailed .
“Nghhh-nnnnh-fuck—!”
It was too much. Too fast. Too big. His body clenched and fluttered helplessly, and Sanghyeok cooed soft praise as Jihoon’s hole fluttered desperately around the stretch.
“You're doing so well, baby,” Sanghyeok murmured, pressing his cheek to Jihoon’s belly. “So fucking good. Taking me so well.”
Jihoon gasped for air. The pressure was unbearable. His whole abdomen throbbed, his cock thick and flushed dark red, drooling uncontrollably now. “W-wait—Sanghyeok... Please, I—”
He broke off into a high, frantic moan, tears suddenly springing to his eyes. His body was clenching, trembling. “Hyung, I-I'm gonna cum—no, I can't—I can't—fuck!”
“You can,” Sanghyeok whispered, voice hoarse now, his own cock straining against his thigh, so hard it hurt. “You can. Let it go.”
Then his fingers curled just right—
And Jihoon shattered.
He came, hard, but not like any orgasm he'd ever known. It wasn’t a sharp, short release—it was a convulsion, a wave of molten fire rolling through his entire being. He thrashed, hips snapping down onto Sanghyeok’s hand, his body jackknifing. A thin, stream shot from his cock, slicking his stomach, his chest, his chin, and Jihoon moaned helplessly, loudly, continuously as his body shook.
“That's it,” Sanghyeok crooned, watching him fall apart. “So fucking beautiful.”
Jihoon sobbed into the sheets, still leaking, still trembling. Sanghyeok licked the mess off his stomach slowly, deliberately. “You’re not done,” he murmured.
“Please—” Jihoon gasped. “Hyung, please, fuck me—please—”
Sanghyeok didn’t need to be told twice.
He rose, slicked himself quickly, gripped Jihoon’s thighs, and lined up. His cock throbbed as it pressed against that soaked, twitching hole.
“Tell me to stop,” Sanghyeok said lowly, hovering.
Jihoon glared as he sobbed again. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
Sanghyeok chuckled, and pushed in.
The stretch was blinding. Jihoon’s back bowed violently as Sanghyeok’s cock breached him—thick and hot. He bit down on a cry, his throat catching on the ragged moan that still forced its way free. Every inch driven into him felt like it belonged there, like it had always belonged, and his body responded like a man possessed. He gripped the sheets, desperate, sweating bullets, every muscle taut as piano wire.
Sanghyeok groaned. “F-fuck, Jihoon…” His voice broke on the name. “So tight, God—”
He sank deeper. Slowly. Watching Jihoon the whole time.
Their eyes locked.
Jihoon’s were glazed, mouth parted in pure disbelief as Sanghyeok bottomed out inside him, hips flush, balls snug against his ass. The stretch was impossibly deep, unbearable— except it wasn’t. It was too much, and yet it was all Jihoon wanted, needed. He tried to breathe, but it came out as a stuttering gasp.
“Hyung,” he whimpered. “Oh my god—move. Please, move—!”
Sanghyeok didn’t.
He kissed the inside of Jihoon’s knee, then trailed up, slow and reverent. His hips tilted forward barely an inch, testing, and Jihoon let out a high, shuddering cry. “Nnngh, again... please—”
Sanghyeok pulled out, halfway— then drove back in. Jihoon’s body flinched. Another thrust. Then another. Slow, powerful, measured like a metronome. Each time their hips met, the sound was slick and wet, laced with Jihoon’s broken moans and Sanghyeok’s tight, trembling groans.
“F-fuck, you feel that?” Sanghyeok growled, dragging his cock along Jihoon’s walls, deep and perfect. “You’re swallowing me—”
“Harder,” Jihoon gasped. “Please, I—fuck—harder!”
Sanghyeok’s control snapped like a rubber band.
He snarled. One hand clamped around Jihoon’s waist. The other wrapped around his leaking cock—and he fucked.
“Ahh-fuck, fuck, fuck, Hhnngh—Sanghyeok—!”
Jihoon screamed, body writhing in a helpless rhythm. His cock throbbed in Sanghyeok’s hand, still slick with his last orgasm, and every thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure ricocheting through his spine. His vision blurred. His hands scrabbled at Sanghyeok’s forearms, holding on for dear life.
“Jihoon, you’re perfect— fuck, you’re perfect,” Sanghyeok groaned, snapping his hips faster now, smacking wetly against Jihoon’s ass. His jaw clenched, sweat dripping down his temple as he drove into him again and again, pace turning brutal. “You were made for me, weren't you?”
Jihoon wailed, unable to answer, sobbing openly, his mouth open in a silent cry as his eyes rolled back.
Sanghyeok angled his thrusts suddenly, kissing that same nerve bundle, again and again.
The sounds coming from Jihoon’s mouth were incoherent and overwhelmed. He thrashed beneath Sanghyeok, boneless, pliant, and utterly owned . “Please, please— I can’t— Hyung—!”
“You can,” Sanghyeok panted, stroking his cock in tandem with his thrusts. “You’re gonna cum again for me. I want it. Give it to me.”
Jihoon’s body gave out.
His thighs jerked violently. His ass clenched tight. Sanghyeok groaned, loud and deep, as Jihoon spasmed beneath him, cock spurting again with no warning.
The second orgasm crashed through him harder than the first. No warning, no control— just a pure, raw eruption of white-hot ecstasy that made him convulse, his chest heaving, eyes squeezed shut as Sanghyeok fucked him through it.
“Yes, yes,” Sanghyeok moaned, slamming into him. “You’re so beautiful when you cum, Jihoon—you’re mine—”
“Yours,” Jihoon gasped, mindless. “I’m yours, I’m yours—Ohh, fuhhh-fuck me, I’m yours—”
Sanghyeok bent down, their chests pressing together, and captured Jihoon’s mouth in a dizzy, open-mouthed kiss. Tongue. Teeth. Swallowing each other's moans. Sanghyeok’s thrusts didn’t stop. If anything, they deepened, grinding up into that spot inside Jihoon that made him jolt and wail with every stroke.
“S-Sanghyeok-hyung—” he sobbed. “I can’t, I can’t stop—I’m-nghh, I’m gonna... again—”
“Yes,” Sanghyeok growled. “Cum again. Show me. Show me what hyung does to you.”
His hips pummeled downward with punishing force, and Jihoon came for the third time in a gurgling, desperate scream.
His body twitched violently, his cock spurting thin streams onto their stomachs, and this time his vision did black out. His hands dropped to the sheets. His legs trembled and refused to stop. Every nerve in his body was screaming, please, more, no, more, stop, don’t stop.
Sanghyeok’s hands cradled his face. “Still with me?”
Jihoon nodded mutely. Barely. “Please,” he whispered, voice cracked raw. “Please, more.”
Sanghyeok didn’t slow.
He pulled out all the way— only to flip Jihoon onto his front in one smooth motion. Jihoon whimpered at the loss, at the dizzy spin of movement. His legs were jelly, splayed open as Sanghyeok pulled his hips up and mounted him from behind.
The next thrust drove him flat into the mattress.
“Ung-!” Jihoon screamed into the sheets.
Sanghyeok grunted, voice ragged now. “So fucking deep like this, can you feel it?”
Jihoon couldn’t speak. He could only moan, shuddering with each slap of hips, each wet shhlck of Sanghyeok’s cock dragging inside him.
Then Sanghyeok leaned down, kissed the back of his neck, and whispered directly into his ear—
“Let’s see how many times you can cum before I do.”
Jihoon broke.
He came again.
No hands, no warning, no buildup. His body convulsed, screaming through another pathetic orgasm, his ass clamping so tight around Sanghyeok’s cock that the older man swore, loud and primal, driving himself even harder into that heat.
“God-ngh—fuck-you’re a mess, Jihoon,” Sanghyeok rasped. “You’re mine. All mine.”
Jihoon couldn’t even answer. He was drooling into the pillow, babbling, twitching.
Then, finally, Sanghyeok snapped.
His hands gripped Jihoon’s waist hard enough to bruise. He rammed into him, relentless now, cock jerking with every plunge, thighs flexing and trembling.
Jihoon couldn’t think.
There was no thought anymore, only heat, and Sanghyeok’s hands, and the impossible fullness that split him open again and again. His muscles had long since given up resisting. His arms trembled uselessly above his head, pinned in place now by Sanghyeok’s grip— one large palm curled tight around both wrists, holding him down as if claiming territory. His legs were parted wide, shaking uncontrollably, twitching with every slap of Sanghyeok’s hips into his sore, soaked entrance.
His hole ached, and still, it wanted. It pulsed and clung desperately, hungry even through the burn, fluttering around Sanghyeok’s cock as if begging to be ruined all over again.
“Still there, baby?” Sanghyeok’s voice was barely audible, thick with breath, hoarse with restraint stretched past its breaking point.
Jihoon nodded— or thought he did. His head lolled to the side, eyes unfocused, mouth open, drooling now. His voice came out in a slur of whimpers: “Y-yeah... yes, yeah, don’t— don’t stop…”
Sanghyeok leaned close, teeth dragging along the shell of his ear. “You’re crying.”
It was true. He hadn’t realized. Warm, stinging tears clung to his lashes, streaked down across his temple, soaking into the pillow beneath his head. Not from pain— no, that had passed an eternity ago— but from too much. Too much pleasure, too much sensation. His body didn’t know how to process it anymore, so it wept for him.
He could feel Sanghyeok’s cock pulsing inside him, harder now, bigger than it had any right to be, pistoning in at a punishing pace that felt both endless and accelerating. It rubbed over that same spot with perfect, vicious precision— deep, fast, and unrelenting. The bed creaked beneath them, headboard thudding dully against the wall, and the slap, slap, slap of their bodies filled the room like a drumline.
“H-Hyun-nghh, Sanghyeok-! Fuhhh-fuck, I-I can’t—I can’t again—"
“You will ,” Sanghyeok growled, nipping at his neck, and he flipped him on his back again as his hand found Jihoon’s cock— still hard, still, somehow, despite everything. It was leaking like a faucet, the tip purple-red, so sensitive that just brushing it made Jihoon scream .
“Ah-No—! f-fuck, please, hyung... Stop—”
Sanghyeok didn’t stop.
He stroked him cruelly, fingers slick with earlier release, and his other hand released Jihoon’s wrists only to reach lower, cupping under his knee and pressing his thigh even higher, opening him up wider. The new angle made Jihoon shriek , his entire body convulsing, sweat flicking off his temples as his eyes rolled back and his jaw hung slack.
“You’re still hard,” Sanghyeok hissed, voice trembling. “Still squeezing me like this. Fuck— you love it. You fucking love it, Jihoon.”
Jihoon choked on a sob. “I-I do, I do—oh god, hyung... Sanghyeok, I’m- fuck , I’m gonna—”
“Give it to me. Again. Let me see it.”
And he did.
His fifth orgasm hit him like a seizure. No fluid came this time— his body had nothing left— but his cock throbbed violently, his hole clamped down, and he wailed, fists bunching in the sheets. His whole frame locked up, shaking with the strain, nerves crackling like exposed wire.
Sanghyeok moaned loudly, shoving in deep and grinding against him, balls slapping against the ruined, swollen mess of Jihoon’s ass. “Good boy,” he gasped. “So good- so good , fuck—look at you—"
Jihoon didn’t hear him.
He was somewhere else now.
Floating.
Drifting.
Everything felt dreamlike—thick and slow and melting around the edges. The pain and pleasure had merged into one indistinguishable sensation, tidal and consuming. He whimpered softly, his voice cracked and thin, like wet paper.
He felt Sanghyeok shift, and suddenly his back was being lifted—arms scooping him up, folding him against that sweat-slick chest. Jihoon slumped into it, barely conscious, his forehead sticking to Sanghyeok’s collarbone, the side of his face smearing tears across his neck.
He was still impaled. Still being fucked.
Just in Sanghyeok’s lap now, upright, legs straddling his thighs.
The motion changed. Less speed and more depth. Sanghyeok’s hands cupped his ass, spreading him wide, lowering him slowly, agonizingly— onto the full length of his cock.
Jihoon gasped, then moaned, long and high.
“You’re doing so good,” Sanghyeok whispered, pressing kisses to his temple, his cheek, his shoulder. “Almost done, baby. Just a little more. Just one more for me, okay?”
Jihoon nodded, barely.
His body moved automatically, rising and falling in Sanghyeok’s lap, rhythm sluggish, motion sloppy but sincere. Sanghyeok helped, guiding his hips, murmuring praise, gripping him with reverent desperation.
Then he curled his hips up, hard—and Jihoon screamed again.
“Ah- ! NGHHhh- oh—!”
Sanghyeok kept going.
Rocking up, filling him to the hilt, grinding against that spot until Jihoon’s limbs started twitching again. His whole body trembled. His lips quivered, fingers scrabbling at Sanghyeok’s shoulders, as his voice gave out in staccato sobs.
“Nnno, no, hyung-hyung, I-I can’t anymore—”
“You can,” Sanghyeok panted, voice breaking now too. “You will. You’re mine. I’m gonna take you there , baby. Just let me .”
The way Jihoon trembled—shaky thighs, knotted abdomen, overstimulated and raw— Sanghyeok knew. He knew . It was pressure. The kind of pressure that didn't pulse sharp and fast like a typical climax. No, this was something deeper . Slower. A heat gathering at the core, coiling inward, then outward, then up .
Jihoon was squirming in his lap, tears dried into streaks on his cheeks, his chest rising fast, mouth open with shallow, rapid breaths.
He was close.
But not to a regular orgasm.
Not to the kind he knew.
Sanghyeok had one hand locked firm around Jihoon’s waist, guiding him down again and again onto his cock— slow, grinding strokes that ground against the front wall of his body at just the right angle. The other hand? That one was pressed flat against Jihoon’s lower stomach, his fingers splayed just below his navel.
“Relax,” Sanghyeok whispered, voice thick and low and almost sweet in how it shook with reverence. “Don’t hold it. Don’t fight it.”
Jihoon let out a high, broken sound— something like a sob, something like a moan. He was panting now. His legs wouldn’t stop twitching.
“Something’s- ahh- something’s happening,” he gasped, voice wrecked, gone, fluttering with panic. “Hyung, I-I don’t know what- fuck , I feel like I-I’m gonna—!”
His eyes blew wide.
His body jerked, clamped down hard around Sanghyeok’s cock, and he tried to twist away. “I’m-shit— I’m gonna piss , I swear, I can’t-hyung- stop , I can’t—”
Sanghyeok shushed him, kissed the side of his face. “You’re not,” he breathed. “You’re not gonna piss. It feels like that, I know. Just let it happen.”
“I-I—!”
“Let go, Jihoon,” Sanghyeok whispered. “Let me see you squirt for me.”
And with that, his hips rocked up—deep, slow, unforgiving— and his fingers pressed .
Right there. Just behind the base of Jihoon’s cock, just beneath the tremble in his belly. Gentle pressure, rhythmic, coordinated with every grind of his cock against Jihoon’s prostate.
Jihoon howled .
His voice cracked like lightning. His whole body arched , sweat dripping off his chin, his arms shaking as he grabbed at Sanghyeok’s shoulders and clung like he was about to be flung out of orbit.
Then—
Not a burst. Not a trickle.
A sudden, hot spray of fluid gushed from his cock— clear and uncontrolled— squirting up in rhythmic pulses that painted their stomachs, their chests, even Sanghyeok’s neck .
It was the loudest he’d ever been—no words, no syllables, just one long, high, wrecked cry as his entire body spasmed in Sanghyeok’s lap. His thighs convulsed, toes curled, hole clenching hard around the cock still pulsing deep inside him.
He didn’t stop squirting.
Another pulse. Another. His cock twitched and gushed, and it wasn’t cum—it was something else, wetter, more elemental, pure liquid pleasure forced out of him by relentless, direct pressure from the inside out.
“Oh-fuck,” Sanghyeok groaned , eyes wide, cock twitching at the unbelievable sight. “You’re- baby, look at you— look at what you’re doing—”
Jihoon couldn’t hear him.
He was sobbing now. Raw, half-conscious. Little hiccupped sounds poured from his mouth between desperate breaths as his hips rolled involuntarily. “No more-h-hyung, I c-can’t-I can’t—no more…”
“You can,” Sanghyeok breathed, overwhelmed. He leaned in, licking across Jihoon’s flushed cheek, voice trembling. “You just squirted for me. You squirted, Jihoon. So perfect. So fucking perfect.”
His fingers stroked down Jihoon’s trembling belly, collecting slick with each pass. The bed was soaked beneath them now—sheets dark with wet heat, puddles between their thighs. Sanghyeok kissed his forehead, kissed his lips, his collarbone, worshipful.
Sanghyeok kept going.
Rocking up, filling him to the hilt, grinding against that spot until Jihoon’s limbs started twitching again. His whole body trembled. His lips quivered, fingers scrabbling at Sanghyeok’s shoulders, as his voice gave out in staccato sobs.
The last orgasm hit without warning.
It didn’t crash• it bloomed . Huge and slow, like fire devouring paper, like stars detonating in his stomach. No spasm this time—just pure, helpless surrender. Jihoon arched backward, slack-jawed, arms falling limp as his body glowed with unbearable ecstasy.
He didn’t make a sound.
He just shook, eyes wide, body jerking softly in Sanghyeok’s arms like a man electrocuted by god.
Sanghyeok came seconds later.
With a deep groan, he shoved Jihoon down all the way, hips grinding up one last time as his cock jerked and twitched, spilling inside him. It dripped out immediately, sliding down the backs of Jihoon’s thighs, pooling between their bodies, staining everything.
Then slowly—so slowly— Sanghyeok lifted him up.
Jihoon whimpered.
Sanghyeok kissed his temple. “Just pulling out, baby. I’ve got you.”
His cock slipped free with a wet, obscene shlrrp .
Jihoon shuddered . “Nnnn…”
A rush of warmth between his cheeks. Slick and heavy.
He blinked, dizzy, and looked down— just as thick globs of Sanghyeok’s cum started oozing out of his stretched hole in lazy, viscous trails. It spilled down over his thighs, down his ass, soaking the sheets again.
Jihoon’s face flushed scarlet.
Sanghyeok groaned .
“Shit,” he whispered, transfixed, watching his own cum dribble out of that wrecked little hole. “Jihoon…”
He couldn’t help himself.
He reached down, fingers sliding through the wet mess, gathering the cum that leaked from Jihoon’s used entrance. His fingers brushed the rim and he pushed just a little, feeling the soft resistance give way with barely a protest.
Jihoon jerked .
“Hyung- stop—!”
The word cracked sharp in the air, not angry, but desperate.
Sanghyeok froze.
His fingers halted immediately, still glistening with slick. He looked up, searching Jihoon’s face.
“I’m done,” Jihoon whispered, voice small, fragile. “I-I can’t, I mean it. Please.”
The words struck like a bell.
Sanghyeok softened instantly. His hand pulled away, gentle and slow. He brought both arms around Jihoon again, gathering him close, pressing soft kisses into his damp hair.
“Okay,” he murmured. “Okay, baby. No more. I’ve got you.”
Jihoon exhaled shakily, melting into the embrace.
Eventually, Sanghyeok eased them back down, laying Jihoon out flat again, murmuring nonsense, stroking his hair. He kissed his forehead, his cheeks, his swollen, bitten lips.
“You’re okay,” he whispered. “You’re perfect.”
Jihoon didn’t answer.
He was smiling— faintly, dumbly, tear-streaked and bruised, but still smiling as his breath finally began to settle.
He’d never stop thinking about this night.
He’d never want to.
And Sanghyeok... Sanghyeok lay beside him now, chest rising and falling, one arm around his waist, the other cradling the back of his head like it might fall off without him.
"You’re unreal, Jihoon-ah.”
Jihoon couldn’t speak. He could barely breathe. But he tilted his head just enough to whisper:
“...I didn’t know it could feel like that.”
Sanghyeok lifted his head, smiling, hair plastered to his forehead. “It gets better every time.”
“Hyung…” Jihoon whispered.
“Hm?”
“…Can we do it again?”
Sanghyeok laughed, then kissed him, slow and deep and full of promise.
“Yeah, baby. We’ll do it again.”